#pepper potts x y/n | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

artficlly · 2 days ago

Text

sweetpea [one-shot]

post-apocalyptic marvel au

retired!hero!bucky x fem!reader After the Riftborn War, Bucky Barnes seeks to retire from his past as a hero and settle down, you might just be the peace he’s been looking for all along.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, p in v, against tree sex, outdoor sex, no protection, vague primal vibes, very consensual, kissing, underwear ripping, if you squint, there's some plot, teeth-rotting fluff, it's so cute, bucky barnes is the sweetest, beefy bucky, yelena meddles, steve rogers is horrified, spring festivals, paganism, masks, drinking, mentions of past violence, death and war, mentions of readers previous relationships, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8.9k

A/N: hello! it's nearly my birthday so heres a treat for you all. i've been sitting on this idea for AGES. i've been working hard on the daughter of the rotsál first draft, so i decided to take a break from the angst for some fluffy, cute smut!! please let me know if you enjoy and your thoughts! sorry for any typos - not proof read. permanent tag list: @globetrotter28

main masterlist

Being fucked over the table was not unwelcome but rather surprisingly pleasant, even if it derailed your breakfast plans.

Leif had always been a rather attentive lover, skilled at pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your needy cunt. He possessed stamina and a hint of roughness that stirred warmth within you, yet something still felt absent. This elusive quality lingered throughout your year together—an unexpressed awareness that simmered between you. Leif was kind, diligent, attractive, and strong. He was considerate, often surprising you with gifts and regularly praising your looks and cooking. Your friends approved of him.

So even if that brief and passionate session had been perfect, him thrusting into you from behind so intensely that your toes curled and you had to press your face against the wooden surface to keep from screaming—you realised it was all somewhat melancholic. The thing that was missing between you and your Springbond was that fabled spark.

The decision to part ways had hurt, but you both knew it was right. A week before you had made the decision, on Mayflame he would move out, and the both of you would be single once more. The morning sex had been a goodbye of sorts, in typical Leif style. Even if you aligned perfectly, you inevitably amassed a long list of differences that broke the perfect illusion. You desired to settle down, concentrate on your work and home, and build connections with those nearby.

In contrast, Leif craved adventure and excitement—obviously, the Bleeding Age hadn’t brought enough danger and activity into his life. He later confessed that he was eager to sleep around more, as he was still a young man exploring his possibilities. This revelation didn’t necessarily shock or hurt you; you had captured his attention for the entire year, far beyond your predictions. Yet, you couldn’t help but wonder... were you boring?

After years of undue stress, survival, and several near-death experiences, you were eager to take advantage of the calm that followed the defeat of the Riftborn and the end of the Bleeding Age. You had to remind yourself—somewhat bitterly—that Leif was not the first and would not be the last.

“Did you see who that was?” Yelena exclaimed from beside you, her hand gripping your forearm tightly. You nearly leapt in surprise, abruptly pulled from your thoughts. Your head turned as you looked back, tracking Yelena’s gaze. “I swear to the fucking gods that was Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes—”

You squinted at the backs of the two men who had passed you by.

They walked like soldiers—steady, assured, their movements streamlined but commanding. No hesitation, no wasted motion, just the certainty of men who had spent years on battlefields, who had fought and bled and survived when others hadn’t. They were massive, even under their coats, their broad shoulders and thick arms unmistakable beneath the heavy fabric. Towering over the people around them, they carried themselves with the kind of presence that didn’t demand attention but took it anyway.

“The captain and the sergeant?” You shot back, doubt curling around your words as your brow furrowed. “I thought they were stationed in Stonebrook until the village was built.”

“They were… but last I heard, Stonebrook’s finished.” Yelena’s voice had an eager edge; her gaze locked onto the two figures even as they disappeared around a street corner, swallowed by the cobbled streets. “They were invited back for the Mayflame celebrations. The word is that they want to retire from the soldier business now the war is over.”

You rolled your eyes, tugging at her arm with a huff. “Come on, we’re going to be late—”

“But do you think they’ll run in Mayflame?” Yelena pressed, barely budging under your pull.

“I mean, gods, can you imagine if Steve Rogers was your Springbond?” She exhaled, almost breathless at the thought, her fingers tightening around your sleeve as if the mere idea was enough to set her heart racing.

You grit your teeth, heat rising in your face—not from excitement but from secondhand embarrassment. A group of older women lingered outside your destination, snickering between themselves at Yelena’s loud ponderings. With a sharp yank, you pulled her off the street and into the village hall, the heavy wooden doors thudding shut behind you, sealing away the crisp morning air and her starry-eyed ramblings.

“There you two are! I need all the hands I can get!”

A flustered-looking Pepper Potts intercepted you and Yelena before you could fully step inside, already ushering you towards a large pile of decorations. Her sleeves were rolled to her elbows, auburn hair pinned haphazardly at the nape of her neck, a sure sign that she had been running herself ragged in preparation for the festival.

“I’ve got half the boys working on the course and the bonfire,” she said, exhaling sharply. “Can you please cart these down and get started on the flowers?”

“Of course,” you replied with a quick nod, already sizing up the pile, considering how best to carry everything down in as few trips as possible.

Yelena, however, had other priorities. “Pepper, are the captain and sergeant joining the Mayflame?” She asked shamelessly, barely masking the anticipation in her tone.

But Pepper had already turned, swept away by the tide of arriving villagers, barking orders as she moved—clearly too busy to entertain Yelena’s curiosity.

You scoffed, sinking your hands into a collection of freshly cut flowers, their stems already bundled neatly for easy transport. You had grown and picked them yourself, much to Pepper’s praise. In recent years, you found comfort in your gardens and flowerbeds. The scent of wild blooms filled your nose, the petals soft against your fingers as you began sorting through them. “Yelena, stop meddling and help me.”

“Fine, but you are no fun!” Yelena groaned, throwing herself down beside you with dramatic flair. Then, as if compelled by some unseen force, she added with a wistful sigh, “I know you’re upset about Leif, but at least let me dream of a raunchy, hero-filled Mayflame.”

Her voice carried farther than she likely intended. Several nearby villagers—some heaving chairs, others hauling tables—stopped mid-task, casting curious glances in your direction.

Mortified, you didn’t dignify her with a response.

—

“I mean, you keep saying you’re not upset about Leif, but you’re obviously upset.”

Yelena’s voice drifted up from below, thick with scepticism. She was not taking her duty of stabilising the ladder very seriously. The wooden rungs wobbled beneath your feet, shifting with every careless movement she made. A quick glance down confirmed your suspicions. She was barely gripping the beams, more occupied with craning her neck up the hill, no doubt hoping for another glimpse of the fabled Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes.

You sighed, your arms burning from the strain. You had foolishly volunteered for the painstaking task of weaving flowers through the towering wooden archways that framed the festival’s entrances. The Mayflame decorations were meant to be intricate and beautiful—braided vines, bundles of wildflowers, bright ribbons fluttering in the evening breeze—but at this rate, you’d be lucky if you made it out of this task without breaking a limb.

“I’m not upset,” you grumbled, though your voice lacked conviction. You worked the soft stems of sweetpeas and baby’s breath into a sturdy braid, securing them with twine against the wooden frame. “We made a mutual decision. It wasn’t working. Just a Mayflame fling...”

Yelena snorted from below, unimpressed. The ladder swayed as she shifted, and you tightened your grip, heart stuttering. “You two lived together for a year. I think it was a little more than a fling.”

You exhaled sharply, your fingers tightening around the flowers. “If he wants to run off, sleep around, and travel, who am I to hold him back, Lena? He wanted something different than I did. It never would have worked.”

“I just…” Yelena hesitated. “I just don’t like thinking about you living up on that farm by yourself.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes as you reached for another bundle of flowers. “Then come visit me more often instead of spending all your nights at the tavern, bothering Nat. I need all the help I can get wrangling those weeds—”

The words barely left your mouth before the ladder jerked violently beneath you.

Your stomach lurched as you wobbled. You instinctively reached for the wooden arch to steady yourself but overcorrected. The shift in weight sent the ladder tilting dangerously, its legs twisting beneath you. The basket of flowers on your hip slipped free, tumbling towards the grass below in a flurry of petals.

“Yelena! The ladder—!”

“There’s a bee in my hair!” Yelena shrieked, her grip altogether abandoning the wooden beams as she flailed wildly. “Gods, if it stings me, I swear—”

You had no time to process her nonsense. The world lurched violently as the ladder lost its precarious balance, tipping sideways with terrifying speed.

Air whipped at your cheeks as you plunged downward. Your arms shot up in a feeble attempt to protect your head, your entire body bracing for the inevitable collision with the earth below.

But the pain never came.

Instead, you collided with something solid—something warm.

A pair of strong arms locked tightly around your middle, yanking you against a broad, muscled chest. The force of your fall sent both of you toppling over; your breath knocked from your lungs as your saviour twisted to absorb the impact. The two of you crashed into the grass in a tangled heap.

A startled squeak escaped your lips as you landed atop them, hands splayed flat against their chest. Their sheer size was dizzying—hard muscle beneath the thin fabric. The steady rise and fall of their breathing made you acutely aware of how firmly you were pressed against them.

For a long second, neither of you moved, your heart pounding as you processed what had just happened. Then, slowly, the arms around your waist loosened. A deep, low voice rumbled beneath you, quieter than you expected yet laced with a restrained amusement.

“Careful, angel. Keep this up, and people will talk.”

Your breath hitched, pulse stuttering as you realised who lay beneath you. Bucky Barnes.

A cold rush of realisation hit like a shock to the system. Your eyes widened in alarm as you took in the situation. Your hands braced against the solid plane of his chest, his body beneath yours, broad and unmoving. Worse, your legs were hooked around his hips, the warmth of him seeping through your clothes—oh gods, were you sitting on his—?

Panic jolted through you. Without a second thought, you scrambled off him in a flurry of movement, heat rushing to your face. Your hands shot up instinctively as if you could wave away the mortifying situation.

“I—I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—”

Bucky didn’t move immediately. He remained where he was, lying on the ground, one arm bent behind his head. The dappled sunlight filtering through the trees cast shadows on his face, highlighting the defined angles of his cheekbones and the depth of his blue eyes. There was no teasing smirk, no cocky remark—just a quiet, lingering patience.

Finally, with a slow, fluid motion, he pushed himself upright, his expression unreadable.

“It’s fine,” he assured, his voice smooth but low, edged with something thoughtful. Just a quiet confidence that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.

You took a hurried step back, trying to regain some semblance of composure, but the erratic beat of your heart refused to settle. You’d always known of Bucky Barnes—the colder one, the quiet one. The man whose name carried a reputation as cutting as winter’s first frost. Yet now, looking at him, the weight of that reputation felt at odds with how he carried himself.

There was something measured about his movements, deliberate and careful, as though he were wary of taking up too much space.

The silence stretched between you until his voice, softer this time, broke through. “You’ve got a little something…”

His hand shot up before you could reply—quick yet remarkably gentle. His fingers delicately moved through your hair, his careful touch igniting a familiar warmth in your gut.

You froze.

He plucked something from your hair and turned it over in his fingers. A single sweetpea, its delicate petals trembling in the breeze. Bucky studied it with quiet intensity, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

“Sweetpea,” he murmured, as if the word carried weight, his gaze flicking back to meet yours. How he looked at you—calm yet piercing—made your breath catch. For a fleeting moment, the world felt impossibly still.

Your cheeks burned. You didn’t even know why.

“I—I’m sorry,” you stammered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Something flickered across his face, subtle but there. Not quite a smile, but something close, something softer than you would have expected from a man with his reputation.

“You don’t have to apologise,” he said simply. Then, after a beat, quieter: “You could’ve hurt yourself.”

It was such a small thing. Barely even a kindness. You were glad the hero couldn’t sense the throbbing between your legs. Maybe this break-up with Leif had indeed done a number on you, lusting after the first man who showed you kindness... but there was something rather magnetic about the sergeant you couldn’t quite understand.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to focus and gather the scattered remnants of your pride. Your gaze turned to the abandoned basket of flowers at your feet, a welcome distraction.

"Right, well, thank you,” you muttered. “I should probably—”

You motioned vaguely toward the half-finished floral arch, eager to redirect the moment into something less intense. But before Bucky could respond, a sharp, frantic voice shattered the moment.

“Oh, gods! I’m so sorry, there was a bee, and I just—are you okay?” You barely had time to brace before Yelena was upon you, hands gripping your shoulders, her wide green eyes scanning your face as if she expected to find a gaping wound. You squirmed under her touch, cheeks still burning.

“I’m fine, Lena,” you mumbled, trying to pry her hands off you. “Really.”

“Yes, of course! This gentleman saved you—” Yelena cut herself off mid-sentence, her entire body freezing as she finally got a good look at him. Her eyes widened, her mouth dropping open in unfiltered shock. “Wait. You’re Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky’s expression shifted, barely, but you caught it. A flicker of something. Not quite discomfort, but something close. His posture stiffened, his fingers flexing once before settling back into stillness.

He didn’t confirm or deny it. He just gave a slow, short nod. You saw the way his throat bobbed slightly as he swallowed, the way he held himself—not defensive, exactly, but closed off as if he had already braced for whatever reaction was coming next.

Yelena’s gaze darted between you, her sharp mind working fast. Too fast. There was a feral glint in her eyes, one you knew well. You could practically see the cogs turning in her mind, a meddling scheme already in action. You held back a groan.

Before she could say something truly insufferable, a sharp, shrill voice rang out from across the unlit bonfire.

“There you are! I need more flowers—can you believe it? I thought we’d have enough with all that you grew. Please tell me you have more in that garden of yours!” You blinked, grateful for the interruption, and immediately turned towards the sound of Pepper’s voice.

“Yes, of course,” you called back, relief flooding through you. “I grew extra just in case. I had a feeling this might happen.”

“Wonderful! Oh, you’re a lifesaver today,” Pepper’s voice rose in excitement. “Leave the floral arches for now. I’ll have one of the girls help finish them up. If you could just run up to your garden—”

You didn’t need to hear the rest.

“Of course!” You cut her off a little too eagerly, desperate to get away from Yelena’s looming interrogation. It was almost like an escape route had opened, and you weren’t about to hesitate. Pepper barely seemed to notice your enthusiasm as she continued.

“Oh, but you won’t be able to carry them all alone, will you? Yelena, you’ll help her, won’t you? And, oh, Bucky, I didn’t realise you were down here already. If I send you and Steve up as well, can you help these lovely ladies?”

You turned towards him instinctively, almost uncertain of what to expect. Bucky, who had been silent throughout the exchange, lifted his head slightly. His eyes jumped towards Pepper, then towards you. His blue eyes were unreadable, his expression impossible to decipher.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“Yeah.”

That was it. No unnecessary words, no wasted breath. Just a quiet, steady answer, the same way he seemed to carry himself, like a man who only spoke when it was worth speaking.

Yelena, on the other hand, was already on you like a hawk, latched onto your arm, nails digging through even your clothing as she grinned in excitement. Instead, you held back any protest that wanted to bubble to the surface, donning a hesitant smile. You couldn’t shake the feeling that the afternoon was about to take a turn for the absurd.

There was no way out of this now.

—

The sun sat high in the sky as the four of you climbed the hill towards the garden. The path was uneven, the dirt packed down from years of footsteps, the scent of wildflowers and earth thick in the warm air. You focused ahead, gripping the empty basket, determined not to meet anyone’s gaze—especially not Bucky’s.

Of course, Yelena had no such reservations. She walked beside Steve, hands clasped behind her back, the picture of feigned innocence. You could feel the question brewing before she even opened her mouth.

“So,” she began, her tone laced with a familiar mischief. “You two were some of the great heroes of the Blooded Age.”

Steve huffed a small, almost bashful laugh. “I wouldn’t call us heroes.”

“Really?” Yelena raised a brow. “Because I’ve heard plenty of stories that say otherwise. You fought monsters, saved villages, built armies—sounds pretty heroic to me.”

Steve glanced at Bucky as if expecting him to jump in, but the other man remained quiet, his eyes fixed on the path ahead. Steve sighed and shrugged. “We did what needed to be done. It wasn’t about being heroes. People were dying, and the world was falling apart. We just... fought to keep it together.”

Yelena hummed, unimpressed with his humility. “And now you’re here. Retired.”

“That’s the plan.”

“You must be very tired.” She smirked. “All that fighting. Saving the world. Carrying such a heavy burden on those broad, broad shoulders.”

You choked on absolutely nothing, coughing into your hand as warmth flared in your cheeks.

Steve cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “It was time to put the war behind us.”

Yelena turned to Bucky, who had been walking a step behind, silent as ever. “And what about you, Barnes? Tired of fighting too?”

Bucky finally glanced her way, his expression unreadable.

“War doesn’t leave much room for a future.” His voice was low, quiet, but firm. “Figured it was time to start thinking about one.”

Yelena tilted her head, studying him like a puzzle she was determined to solve. “And New Fernwick is the place to do that?”

Bucky didn’t answer immediately. His attention turned to you—brief and mysterious—before he looked back at the trail. “Seems as good a place as any.”

Yelena smirked, but you reached the garden before she could push further.

“Here we are!” You announced, a little too brightly, desperate to change the subject.

You set your basket down and knelt to gather the flowers, focusing intently on the task. Yelena crouched beside you, plucking a few stems with ease. Steve busied himself as well, his hands surprisingly gentle as he worked.

Bucky, however, remained standing with his arms crossed as he surveyed the field of blooms. After a brief pause, he crouched, reaching for a flower near your basket. You watched as his fingers brushed over the petals carefully and deliberately.

Yelena noticed too. “Didn’t peg you for a flower guy, Barnes.”

Bucky plucked the stem and twirled it between his fingers, his expression unreadable. “You learn to appreciate the small things when you don’t see ‘em for a long time.”

The words were simple, but they settled in your chest, something unspoken lingering beneath them.

Yelena, for once, said nothing.

The silence stretched as the four of you worked, the baskets gradually filling, until until Yelena, as always, shattered it with a single sentence—one that made your stomach drop the moment it left her mouth.

“So, are you two going to do the Mayflame Run?”

Your fingers tightened around the delicate stems of the flowers in your hands, nearly crushing them. Heat flared up your neck, and you snapped your head towards her. “Yelena.”

She only grinned, tilting her head in mock innocence. “What?”

She batted her lashes. “It’s a fair question.”

Bucky and Steve glanced up from where they were crouched, picking through the wildflowers. The question had caught them off guard. Steve’s brow furrowed, curiosity laced with hesitation.

“What exactly is the Mayflame Run?” he asked.

You parted your lips, scrambling for a way to downplay it, but Yelena was already launching into her favourite pastime—oversharing.

“It’s a spring festival all about welcoming in the new season... new life... fertility and all that.” She wiggled her fingers for emphasis, an impish smirk tugging at her lips.

Steve blinked, his expression shifting into one of wary understanding. “Right…”

The mischief in Yelena’s eyes deepened as she continued.

“The main event is the run. We call it the Springbond Run, but let’s be honest—everyone knows what it’s really about. See, after the Blooded Age, people kind of… forgot how to date. Or just didn’t bother.” She waved a hand as if brushing aside years of devastation. “War, famine, monsters—it put a real damper on romance. And, well, people aren’t exactly repopulating at the rate they should be, so...”

She shot Steve a pointed look. “The elders decided to encourage things.”

Steve still looked uncertain. "And how does it work?”

You exhaled through your nose, adjusting your basket.

“The women carry torches and run through the dark forest,” you explained, keeping your voice even as possible. “The goal is to reach the clearing on the other side and light the bonfire.”

You hesitated, dreading the next part. “The men chase them.”

Steve’s brows lifted. “They chase them?”

You nodded stiffly, but Yelena was the one who answered.

“If you get caught,” she said breezily, “you have to date the guy who caught you for a week. You’re now each other’s Springbond. After that, you decide if you want to keep seeing each other or go your separate ways. Most end up sticking it out. Either for marriage or, at the very least, some fun.”

Your stomach twisted as Bucky’s gaze flickered towards you. He hadn’t spoken yet or reacted outwardly, but you felt the weight of his attention pressing against your skin like an unspoken question.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, clearly processing the information. “And what happens to the women who manage to light the bonfire?”

“Oh, then they get to choose who they spend the week with,” Yelena said. "Which honestly makes the whole thing even more exciting. It’s so dark, you don’t always know who’s chasing you until they’re right on top of you, pinning you to the ground—”

Steve choked on his own breath, shifting awkwardly. You clamped your eyes shut, pressing your fingers to your temples.

“Yelena.”

“What?” she said, all false innocence.

“It’s true. And let’s be real, some people don’t even wait until after the run to start celebrating.” She smirked. “All that adrenaline, all that tension, out there all alone in the woods—”

Steve made another strangled sound, and you wished, for the first time in your life, that you had the power to smite Yelena where she stood.

“And this is normal?” he asked weakly.

You let out a long breath. “Yes. It’s… tradition.”

Yelena’s smirk stretched wider, and a pit of dread opened in your stomach just before she delivered the final blow.

“Oh, she would know,” she said airily. “She’s done it three times.”

Silence.

You felt the shift in the air before you even looked up. Steve was already glancing away politely, but Bucky—Bucky’s gaze was steady, unyielding, waiting. His expression was unreadable, but there was something sharp beneath it, something that made your pulse stutter.

Your mouth went dry. “I—uh—yeah.”

Yelena cackled, delighted. “And she had quite the reputation for it, too. She and Leif turned it into a year-long one-night stand."

Your stomach dropped. Heat flared at your ears, mortification wrapping around your ribs like a vice. Steve coughed into his fist, visibly uncomfortable, but Bucky—Bucky still hadn’t looked away. The weight of his silence pressed against you, heavier than any words could be. He didn’t flinch, didn’t frown, didn’t even raise a damn eyebrow. He just watched as if waiting for you to offer something. An explanation. A reaction.

You swallowed hard.

Yelena, meanwhile, had absolutely no shame.

“Some people take the week actually to get to know each other,” she continued with a smirk. “Others treat it like a festival fling. A week-long one-night stand, if you will.”

She turned to Bucky then, eyes glinting. “You seem like the type who’d do a Mayflame run.”

Bucky finally exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. “You get that from watching me pick flowers?”

Yelena leant in. “No, I got it from watching you look at her.”

Your breath hitched.

Bucky didn’t flinch. Didn’t react at all. He just held her gaze for a long moment before standing, dusting the dirt from his hands with deliberate ease.

“We should get these back,” he said.

That was it. No denial.

Your pulse thrummed in your ears as Yelena shot you a triumphant look, nudging your arm with her elbow. You shoved her back harder than necessary, grabbing your basket with too much force.

—

You had braided sweetpeas into your hair, their delicate petals—a cascade of soft pinks, purples, and whites—woven carefully through your strands. The fragrance clung to you, sweet and fleeting, barely noticeable except when the wind stirred just right. You didn’t know why you had done it. Maybe it was a whim, an idle distraction while you got ready for the Mayflame. Maybe it was some quiet hope you refused to name, a foolish sentiment born from the strange afternoon. Or maybe, worse than all of that, it was the loneliness of returning to an empty house.

Leif had left while you were gone. You hadn’t seen him pack or even heard the door shut behind him. Just silence, so much silence. His absence had been waiting for you like a ghost when you stepped inside. No trace of him remained, save for a few scuff marks on the wooden floor and a half-finished bottle of cider in the kitchen. You had stared at it for a long time before scrubbing the house clean in a fit of confused energy as if sweeping away the dust might sweep away the ache in your chest.

Did you even want to run tonight? If it always turned out this way?

Leif had been inevitable—his leaving, even more so. The one before him barely lasted the week. And the first... gods, the first. You didn’t let yourself think about that one.

Yet here you were, standing in the dark forest, a burning torch in your hand.

The other women huddled together, whispering in excited clusters, their laughter soft and secretive beneath the trees. The firelight flickered over their masked faces, catching on the gilded edges and painted symbols of the goddess of spring. Yelena was causing trouble somewhere in the throng, as always, her voice carrying through the dark.

“I swear, I can pick them out. I just need a second,” she was saying.

You sighed, already knowing exactly what she was up to.

“It’s a useless pursuit,” you had reminded her earlier. “They’ll be masked, everyone will. That’s the whole point.”

And yet, she was determined. You caught a glimpse of her through the shifting bodies, her blonde hair twisted into an elaborate crown braid behind her fox mask, taunting the gathered men. They stood on the opposite side of the clearing, a sea of darkened figures illuminated only by flickering torchlight. The line between hunter and hunted might have blurred if not for their masks.

You fiddled with the edges of your own mask, adjusting it once more against your face. Each mask bore the likeness of a creature of the forest—the women had prey animals: deer, rabbits, and foxes. You had chosen a wide-eyed doe, its carved wooden surface smooth against your fingertips. The men, in contrast, wore the guises of predators: wolves, bears, and great hunting birds.

A shiver trailed down your spine as you scanned their ranks, the shadows swallowing their bodies.

This was fate, they said. A tradition older than the Blooded Age. The goddess of spring would take the helm, guiding her children together.

Destiny, not choice.

You weren’t sure you believed in fate anymore.

Still, you craned your neck, searching for Yelena again before the race began. Some women had already lined up at the start, their torches raised, waiting for the signal. You pushed through the crowd, weaving past a group of masked rabbits, your torch casting long, twisting shadows over the forest floor.

Yelena stood at the edge of the men’s group, utterly unbothered, her fox mask tilted slightly as she studied them. The smirk you couldn’t see was undoubtedly plastered across her face.

“Lena,” you called lightly.

She turned towards you, still distracted. “You’d think we’d be able to recognise them even with the masks, right? They should be massive, but it’s so hard to tell in the dark—”

You grabbed her wrist, pulling her away. “Come on.”

The hairs on the back of your neck prickled.

As you turned, your torchlight swept over a lone figure standing at the edge of the men’s group. Half-shrouded in shadow, his wolf mask glinted in the firelight. His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, yet there was an unmistakable intensity in his standing and watching.

You swallowed hard and averted your gaze.

Tugging Yelena along, you stepped towards the start line.

The time was near.

You gathered your skirts with one hand, feeling the rough fabric in your fist. The cool night air licked at your skin, carrying the scent of damp earth and pine. Around you, the other women shifted in anticipation, their torches flickering like stars in the dark. Somewhere beyond the trees, the men waited. Watching.

A hush fell over the gathered crowd. Then—

The drum sounded.

The tension snapped, and you ran.

Flames bobbed wildly as the women surged forward, feet pounding against the forest floor. Laughter rang through the night, breathless and high, voices calling to one another before being swallowed by the trees.

Yelena was gone in an instant, lost in the chaos.

You barely had time to register it before you were weaving between trunks, torchlight bouncing wildly in your periphery. Your skirts whipped around your legs, the rough fabric catching on twigs and undergrowth, but you didn’t slow. The forest stretched wide before you, vast and shrouded in shadows.

Adrenaline surged through your veins, heart hammering against your ribs.

It was exhilarating.

You could hear the others somewhere to your left, their laughter spilling through the trees, echoing their footfalls blending with your own. And behind you, somewhere in the dark, the men had begun their pursuit.

The sound of movement grew. Leaves rustled, and twigs snapped.

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t dare look back.

Instead, you pushed forward, your torchlight slicing through the thick night. The distant hum of music reached your ears, the festival, just beyond the treeline. You were close. So close.

Then—impact.

A weight slammed into you from the side, knocking the air from your lungs. Your torch flew from your grasp, landing somewhere in the brush, its flame sputtering but not extinguished.

You hit the ground hard, back pressing into the cool earth, the scent of moss and crushed leaves filling your senses. Above you, a broad figure loomed, breathing heavily from the chase.

The dim torchlight barely illuminated him, casting jagged shadows across the carved wolf mask that stared down at you. The smooth, wooden surface gave away nothing—no expression, no hint of who was beneath it.

Your pulse thundered.

Around you, the chase still roared on. Footsteps pounded the earth, laughter echoing as others darted past, unseen but near.

You swallowed hard, your breath coming fast, your chest rising and falling. You had been caught.

But gods, it was thrilling.

The figure above you didn’t move, as if waiting—for what, you weren’t sure. His hands were braced on either side of you, caging you in, his breath still heavy from the chase. Yet he didn’t press his advantage or seize you like the others would have. Instead, he lingered, watching.

Then, in the flickering torchlight, he reached for your hair.

You barely breathed as his fingers tangled into the strands, the movement deliberate, almost reverent. Slowly, he plucked one of the deep violet sweetpeas from your braid, twirling it between his fingers before your masked face. The petals fluttered slightly with the motion, fragile between the ridges of his calloused fingertips.

A beat of silence stretched between you. Then, finally, his voice, low, deep, rough with exertion.

“Hey, sweetpea.”

The nickname sent a shock through you, something warm curling in your chest even as your breath hitched. Recognition dawned, sharp and sudden.

“Bucky?” You murmured, stunned.

Even if surprise coursed through you, it made sense. The sheer size of the body hovering above yours, the weight of him pressing into the earth, the controlled stillness…it was him. A reversed echo of your earlier position that day.

“How did you—”

“Your hair,” he interrupted, his voice quieter now, rougher. “You put flowers in your hair. I recognised it.”

He reached up, fingers catching the edge of his mask, and in a smooth motion, he pulled it free. The last flickers of the torch beside you cast just enough light to reveal the sweat beading on his brow, the shadows cutting across his sharp features—and the unmistakable, almost feral gleam in his eye.

Something deep inside you clenched at the sight.

You exhaled a breathless laugh, your hands instinctively sliding up his broad shoulders, fingers curling around the back of his neck. Beneath your palms, his skin was hot, his pulse hammering. “I didn’t think you were running.”

“I wasn’t going to.” He hesitated, head tilting slightly as footsteps dashed past, followed by an excited shriek from one of the other women. The sound faded into the trees, leaving you in perfect darkness, only the two of you remaining in the silence. “But—”

He trailed off, his voice thick with something unspoken. His weight above you was solid, immovable, and gods, you liked it.

“Do you want this?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Instead of answering, you twisted your arm, pulling your mask off. You weren’t sure he could see the grin curling your lips in the dark, so you let your actions speak for you. Tugging him closer, your chests collided, heat blooming between you.

“Yes,” you breathed.

And then his lips crashed into yours.

The kiss was molten, searing through your veins like wildfire. He wasn’t hesitant, wasn’t uncertain—he kissed you like he had been holding himself back for far too long, like the chase had only wound him tighter, and now he was unravelling against you.

You gasped into his mouth as he shifted, his weight pressing down on you, one hand sliding to your waist, fingers digging in, anchoring you to him. His other hand tangled in your hair, gripping just enough to make your head tilt back, giving him full access. He took it eagerly, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours in a slow, devastating stroke.

Heat pooled in your stomach, your legs shifting beneath him, but then—

With shocking ease, he moved.

For a brief second, you were weightless, a startled sound escaping your lips as he lifted you effortlessly from the ground. You barely had time to react before your back hit rough bark, the solid tree trunk now bracing you. His hands were firm as they guided your legs around his waist, pinning you in place. You could already feel his cock growing hard, pressed into one of your thighs as you squirmed beneath him.

A shudder wracked through you at his sheer strength, the way he handled you like you weighed nothing. The last remnants of your composure shattered when his lips found your throat, the scrape of his teeth ghosting over sensitive skin. You gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders, the sensation overwhelming and utterly intoxicating.

"You run fast, angel," he murmured against your skin, his voice dark and teasing. His lips trailed lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw. "But not fast enough."

A breathless laugh escaped you, your fingers threading into his hair, pulling just enough to make him look at you. In the darkness, his blue eyes burned.

“I didn’t want to get away.”

Bucky’s breath hitched, and he just looked at you for a moment. Then, his grip on your waist loosened, fingers slipping beneath your skirts. He let out a deep groan as his digits navigated past your underwear, sweeping through the wetness already gathered. “You’re so wet already.”

You threw your head back at the small act of friction, your skull pressing hard into the rough bark as your chest heaved. He did one final pass, stroking through your folds. In the close distance between your faces, you could see a smirk lingering as your hips rocked involuntarily, begging for more.

Bucky brought his fingers to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours as he pressed them flat against his tongue, dragging them slowly past his lips. His eyelids fluttered briefly, his breath coming heavier as he tasted you, a low, guttural sound rumbling in his chest. “Mmm.”

Heat coiled in your stomach at the sound, something deep and electric winding tight inside you.

“Bucky—” The whine clawed unexpectedly from your throat, raw with desperation.

He smirked, his expression both teasing and dark, his hand slipping between your bodies.

“I know, sweetpea,” he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. His fingers fumbled blindly with his belt, metal clinking softly in the hush of the forest. You could feel his hunger in the way his body pressed against yours, restless, taut with restraint he was barely clinging to.

You rolled your hips against his hand, a breathless sigh spilling from your lips as friction sent a fresh wave of heat pooling between your thighs. He inhaled sharply, his head tilting slightly as if savouring the way you reacted to him.

“Tell me,” he coaxed, his voice lower now, almost commanding.

Your fingers curled against his shoulders, nails digging in. Your head tipped back against the tree's rough bark, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your lips parted around the words.

“I need you,” you whispered. “Now.”

Something snapped in his expression.

Bucky didn’t hesitate.

A sharp gasp tore from your throat as his fingers hooked into the delicate fabric of your underwear. His patience was fraying. No careful undressing, no gentle peeling away. His grip was rough and decisive, a growl slipping from his throat as he gave one sharp tug. The fabric tore effortlessly beneath his fast fingers, the sound lost beneath the hammering of your pulse in your ears. He didn’t even bother pulling them down—too impatient, too consumed by need.

You could practically feel your wetness dripping down to your thighs as he blindly lined himself up, cock pushing into your needy heat. Your head dipped, your mouth finding the top of his shoulder as you bit down lightly with a soft cry. The world beyond this moment—the festival, the music, the laughter—blurred into nothingness. The only thing that existed was the feverish press of his body, the way his fingers dug into your skin, anchoring you to him as if he never wanted to let go.

“Fuck.” He hummed low in your ear. His voice strained as he slowly rocked in and out of you. You could tell he was restraining himself, his muscles taut along his back. You hooked your legs around his waist tighter, pulling your bodies flush.

Bucky tilted his head, his lips ghosting over your jaw before finally finding your mouth, desperate and all-consuming. His pace faltered for a moment, a quiet groan slipping from his throat as you tightened around him.

“Gods, you’re so fuckin’ tight, so fuckin’ perfect—” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer. Your breath was hot against his neck and ear as you whispered. “Then don’t stop.”

Any type of restraint the hero had been holding snapped, his hips immediately jerking into action, beginning a relentless pace, withdrawing from you only to slam back inside. Each thrust sent sparks through your body, pleasure coiling tighter, overwhelming in its intensity. One of his hands roamed, sliding down your thigh to where you connected.

You let out a gasping moan into his shoulder as his thumb found your clit, the added circling motion sending a spike of pleasure up your spine. You felt your cunt tighten around him again as you jolted from the sensation, back arching inward.

“Bucky—” You groaned into his ear, head tilting as you laid hot, sloppy kisses that were all lips and tongue along his neck. You could taste salt on his skin, sweat beginning to mist both of you. The squelching and slapping sounds of your connected bodies echoed through the dark forest, the both of you barely holding back the pleasured moans and gasps.

“You gonna cum for me, angel?” Bucky growled against your throat. Your toes curled in delight. His strokes were already growing frantic and sloppy. You pushed yourself back against the trunk, chest heaving as you used your grip around his waist to grind yourself upon his thumb further. A coiling sensation grew in your gut, a knot beginning to tighten. You closed your eyes with a gasp, chasing the sensation.

“Y-Yes.” You stammered through your pants, nails digging into his shoulders as your body began to shudder around him. Bucky let out a dark chuckle, straining through his grit teeth as he continued to plough into you. His thumb circled once more, gentle but practiced. You felt your back arch involuntarily—

You moan his name as every wave of pleasure washes over you. Your hips buck and your thighs shake, but he doesn’t let up. His cock strokes inside of you at a continued relentless pace, and he moans right along with you. Bucky’s hand began to roam along your legs, gripping your flesh tighter as he chased his own release. There would be finger-shaped bruises all over your hips and thighs by the time this was over.

You’re panting above him. Eyes closed, the grip on his shoulders slackening as ropes of thick, hot cum fill you. His cock throbs, each pump releasing even more, only stopping as his hips stutter and his heated moans in your ear fade.

The two of you panted in the aftermath. Bodies still pressed together as the sounds of the forest slowly filtered back into your ears—the distant thrum of festival music, the rustling leaves overhead, the occasional laughter of those still running through the trees. Your heart hammered against your ribs.

Bucky shifted first, pressing a lingering kiss to the base of your throat, his lips warm and soft against your sweat-dampened skin. His breath fanned over your collarbone as he slowly and carefully lowered you to your feet. Your knees nearly buckled when they touched the earth, your legs trembling with exhaustion. A startled gasp left you as you clung to him for support, fingers curling into his shirt.

“Easy, sweetpea,” he murmured, a quiet chuckle rumbling in his chest as he steadied you, one strong arm wrapping around your waist. His touch was grounding and reassuring, though the heat in his gaze told you he wasn’t entirely done with you yet.

You huffed a breathless laugh, tilting your head to look at him.

“You know we have to go to the dance now, right?” Though amusement laced your tone, you could already picture the knowing smirks Yelena and the others would shoot you when you finally emerged.

Bucky smirked, eyes dark with satisfaction.

“Even better,” he murmured, leaning in until his lips brushed the shell of your ear. “All I’ll be able to think about is those little noises you make... and that mess between your legs.”

Your breath hitched, a shiver rolling down your spine despite the lingering warmth in your limbs. You swallowed hard, heat pooling low in your belly once more at the thought of his hands on you again, the way he had unravelled you so easily.

He tilted your chin up with a single finger, pressing a teasing kiss to your lips before stepping back slightly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Come on, sweetpea,” he murmured, his eyes flickering with mischief as he laced his fingers with yours. “Let’s go dance.”

—

By the time you and Bucky arrived, the festival was in full swing, the air thick with the scent of roasted meats, spiced cider, and the smoky tang of bonfires. Laughter and music filled the clearing, the rhythmic beat of drums and the sweet hum of strings carrying through the night. Couples swayed to the music, feet shuffling against the packed earth as villagers danced in loose circles, the warmth of drink and celebration evident in every movement.

You barely had time to take it all in before a chorus of knowing smirks and raised brows greeted your arrival. Yelena, seated at a long wooden table with a tankard of something strong in hand, nearly choked on her drink when she spotted you—your slightly dishevelled hair, the flush still clinging to your skin, and Bucky’s possessive grip on your waist.

“About time,” she called with a grin, eyes flicking between the two of you. “Did you get lost?”

Bucky, unbothered, merely smirked and tugged you towards the dancing. “Something like that.”

You shot her a look, but it was impossible to ignore the amused glances and hushed whispers behind you. You tried not to think about the wet mess—a combination of both your fluids nesting between your thighs. Bucky had offered you a handkerchief to clean up, but the small square of fabric had done little against the wetness dripping down your thigh. What didn’t help was the thought of that handkerchief he casually tucked back into his pocket before you could protest. Your lips parted, ready with some half-hearted excuse, but Bucky spun you into his arms before you could respond.

The moment he pulled you into the dance, the rest of the festival seemed to fade into the background. His hands found your waist, guiding you through the steps with ease, music thrumming beneath your skin. Everything was intoxicating, with the warmth of his palm against the small of your back and the gentle pressure of his fingers as he led you.

His lips dipped close to your ear as you moved, swaying to the rhythm. “So, who is this Leif guy?”

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard, but then sighed, your fingers tightening slightly against his shoulder. “Oh—just… my last Springbond.”

The words felt foreign on your tongue now, distant. “It didn’t really work out in the end.”

Bucky hummed, his thumb brushing slow, lazy circles over your hip. “Why not? Sounded like you lasted longer than a week.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, tilting your head back slightly to meet his gaze.

“Well… we just had different paths. He wanted to explore, adventure, sleep around…” You trailed off, gaze flickering to the firelight dancing in his blue eyes. “I was looking to settle. I’m just tired after everything. I feel you would understand that.”

His grip on you tightened ever so slightly, his gaze dark and steady as he murmured, “I understand you completely, angel.”

Something in the way he said it made your chest ache, warmth curling in your stomach in a way that had nothing to do with the fire or the wine or the exhilaration of the chase. He understood.

You held his gaze, the firelight dancing over his face. There was something ancient in his eyes, something heavy, worn by time and battle. You had known, of course, what he and Steve were before they arrived in New Fernwick—everyone did.

And yet, when the war ended, when the Riftborn were vanquished and peace finally settled over the world, they had simply walked away. But peace was a fickle thing, and you often wondered if it had truly found them in return.

Bucky’s fingers flexed against your waist, grounding you back in the present.

“You ever think about it?” you asked softly.

He tilted his head slightly, the movement curious. “Think about what?”

You hesitated for only a moment before speaking. “The way things used to be. Before.”

His jaw tensed, but he didn’t look away.

“Sometimes.” His voice was quieter now, thoughtful. “I don’t miss it. But it’s hard to let go of something that shaped you.”

You nodded, understanding. The past had a way of clinging to people, no matter how far they ran.

He exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“Steve took to peace like it was always meant for him. I think he’s been waiting for it his whole life. Me…” He trailed off, his lips pressing into a faint line. “I think I’m still figuring it out.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest. He deserved peace just as much as anyone else.

As the music slowed, your hands slid from his shoulders, fingers tracing the length of his arms before settling over his. His grip tightened instinctively like he knew what you were about to say.

“Come home with me.” The words were quiet, tentative, but certain.

Bucky stilled for half a beat, and then his lips parted, his breath warm against your cheek.

“Yes.”

No hesitation. No doubt. Just certainty, as if he had been waiting for you to ask.

—

The door creaked softly as you pushed it open, stepping inside with Bucky close behind you. You moved awkwardly through the space, glancing at the walls, the furniture, anything but him, as though it could distract from the knot forming in your stomach. The house felt both too small and too big now, the empty rooms amplifying the tension in the air.

Bucky stepped in after you, his boots echoing softly on the wooden floor as he glanced around. His gaze lingered on the fire's warm glow in the hearth, he seemed at ease. His eyes scanned every corner of the space, taking in the simple comforts of home. A slight smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

You shifted nervously, breaking the silence with an anxious laugh. “You don’t actually have to do the full week if you don’t want to... I mean, most people just use it as an excuse to get off work—” Your words stumbled out, and you cut yourself off, realising how ridiculous you probably sounded.

Bucky turned toward you, his eyes dark with amusement but softened with something else, a quiet intensity. He was silent for a long moment, focusing entirely on you. Finally, his lips quirked up, and his voice was low and deliberate.

“Sweetpea, I love the sound of your beautiful voice, but just shut up... and kiss me.”

Before you could respond, his hands were already pulling you close, his mouth slanting over yours in a searing kiss that left no room for hesitation. You melted against him, your body pressing into his with a soft urgency, both of you stumbling as you navigated the space towards the bed. His grip on you was firm and reassuring, yet there was a rawness to it, an unspoken need that made your heart race faster.

You fumbled through the room together, bumping into furniture. Your hands sought purchase on his broad chest or tangled in his hair as you kissed desperately, blindly. The dim light from the hearth barely illuminated the path ahead. His lips were warm and hungry, pulling at yours with an intensity that made your pulse spike.

There was a quiet reassurance in how his hands roamed over your body, the steady pressure of his touch as though he wanted to anchor you in the here and now. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t treating this like a fleeting moment. You laughed softly against his lips as you stumbled into the bed, falling together in a tangled heap of limbs and tangled sheets. For a moment, all that mattered was the warmth of his skin against yours, the unspoken understanding that this was something different, something real.

Something that could last.

295 notes · View notes

buckets-and-trees · 3 months ago

Text

Red, White & True: Manhattan & Brooklyn (1/?)

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers (future x curvy Millennial Female!Reader), Pepper Potts, Sam Wilson Word Count: 4k Summary: "There was an idea..." Words at the heart of what brought the Avengers together. Pepper Potts has persuaded Steve Rogers to step up and help again - but this time in a battle to The White House. She invites you to consider a key position.

Content/Warnings: none

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Prologue | Series

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

[MAY 15 - Manhattan, New York]

You try not to hold still while you wait in the lobby, but you’re nervous and the longer you sit, the more difficult it is to resist drumming your fingers, tapping your foot, jiggling your right leg as it’s crossed over your left, or even just chewing on your bottom lip.

You’re not anxious at all over meeting with Pepper, but what has you on alert is the possibility that you could theoretically meet Steve Rogers, former Captain America, today.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. The lobby of Stark Industries is immaculate, all sleek lines and modern design. The large windows let in plenty of natural light, making the space feel open and inviting despite its corporate purpose.

Your mind wanders back to your college days when you’d walked into a different Stark Industries lobby for the first time, a hopeful intern wanting to make a difference at the then-new Stark Foundation office. Pepper had been very involved in building the Foundation at the time, and had become a key mentor and - as the years passed and you left Stark Industries - a dear friend. She had helped fuel some of your late-night study sessions through grad school. Living in a new state, she had shown up and seen you through breakups, family drama, and the stress of putting together your thesis. Even when your paths diverged, you'd managed to stay in touch.

Back then, she’d become like the older sister you never had, seeing you through some of the difficult years figuring out how to be a real adult. Now, here you are, waiting to potentially join a presidential campaign she’s orchestrating for none other than Steve Rogers.

The receptionist's voice startles you out of your reverie. "Ms. Potts will see you now."

You stand, smoothing down your carefully chosen outfit - professional, but not stuffy. As you follow the receptionist down the hallway, your mind races with possibilities. What position could Pepper have in mind for you? Your background in political science and your years working in non-profit management seem like they could be useful, but you can't help feeling a little out of your depth.

As you approach Pepper's office, you take a deep breath to steady yourself. The door opens, and there she is - Pepper Potts, looking as poised and confident as ever in a crisp white blouse and tailored navy suit. Her strawberry blonde hair is pulled back in a neat ponytail, and her smile is warm and welcoming.

"It's so good to see you," she says, embracing you in a quick hug. "Come in, please."

You step into her spacious office, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows with a breathtaking view of the city skyline. Pepper gestures to a comfortable-looking chair across from her desk, and you sit, trying to keep your nerves in check.

"I appreciate you coming on such short notice," Pepper begins. "I know it's been a few years since we’ve been able to catch up - even before the Blip.”

You were among the half who disappeared - still such a strange concept to grasp though you were supposedly settled back in. “I was happy to come! And of course I don’t mind a trip on the Stark Industries dime,” you say with a grin.

"Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

You shake your head. "I'm fine, thanks."

Pepper settles into her chair, folding her hands on the desk. "So, I know I told you we’re putting together the campaign team for Rogers for America, but I'm sure you're wondering more specifically why I called you here."

You nod, leaning forward in your chair, eager to hear Pepper’s vision.

"We're putting together an incredible team," she begins, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "I've been reaching out to some of the brightest minds in politics, economics, and social justice. We have former White House staffers, grassroots organizers, and even a few unexpected faces from the private sector who are eager to contribute their expertise."

You are instantly intrigued, trying to imagine the caliber of people she's describing. Your mind races with possibilities - perhaps that brilliant campaign manager who orchestrated the upset victory in the last Senate race, or the economist whose revolutionary ideas about sustainable development have been making waves in academic circles.

"We've got strategists who are anticipating every move our opponents might make," Pepper continues, "and communications experts who can craft messages that will resonate with voters across the political spectrum.”

You listen intently, trying to pinpoint where you might fit into this powerhouse group.

"There's Maria Hill," Pepper continues, "who's handling security and intelligence briefings. She's got connections that'll be invaluable. Then there's Peter Parker - you might know him as Spider-Man - he's officially our youth outreach coordinator, but he's also got a brilliant scientific mind that we're tapping into for policy development."

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of Spider-Man.

Pepper leans forward, her eyes locking with yours. "But here's the thing - we're not just assembling a team of political operatives and policy experts. We need people who understand the heart of what we're trying to do, who can see the bigger picture and help keep us grounded in our core values."

Your heart begins to race as you start to realize where this might be going.

"That's where you come in," Pepper says, a warm smile spreading across her face. "I've watched your career over the years, how you've navigated the non-profit world, building coalitions and making real change happen. You have a gift for bringing people together, for seeing connections that others miss. Your experience gives you a unique perspective that we desperately need."

Your heart races as you process her words. You had assumed you might be offered some kind of advisory role, perhaps in fundraising or event planning. Maybe even appearance management or offering occasional input on strategy. But from Pepper's tone, it sounds like she has something more substantial in mind.

"Where do you see me on this team?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I've been putting a lot of thought into this," Pepper continues, her voice filled with conviction. “You know we’re doing something unconventional. Did you read the presidential plan?”

You nod. Steve’s bid for President of the United States was still technically not public knowledge. You had signed an NDA - being told only that you were receiving a proposal Pepper wanted your input and consultation on, with potential to join the team if you supported the initiative, and just silence if you didn’t.

“It’s bold, idealistic, aspirational; but it’s also unapologetic, has clear plans of action, and could be transformational in ways we haven’t seen in living memory,” you give your assessment.

“And it’s something you could see yourself being a part of?”

You take a deep breath, but smile genuinely. “I couldn’t sleep the first night after you sent it over. I couldn’t stop reading, hoping, re-reading, imagining possibilities!”

“Good,” Pepper responds. “Perfect.”

“Put me to work wherever you need me!”

“I was hoping you would say that because I have a very specific position I need to get filled, and you’re my first - and only - pick for the job.”

“Pepper, stop holding out!” A nervous and eager laugh escapes you. “Tell me!”

Her response slams into you like a freight train, knocking the air from your lungs.

“Future First Lady.”

You feel your jaw drop in shock, almost hitting the ground as your mind races with disbelief and anger. The room feels like it's spinning as you struggle to process the weight of her words.

"What?" you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. "Pepper, I... I don't understand. First Lady? But that would mean..."

Pepper holds up a hand, her expression serious. "We're not just running a campaign here. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country. Steve is an incredible man, and he needs a partner who understands the complexities of modern America, not just a trophy wife, someone who can connect with people from all walks of life."

You shake your head, still reeling. "But I'm not - I mean, Steve and I aren't even - we've never even met!"

"I know," Pepper says softly. "That's part of the plan. We want to show that leadership isn't about who you're married to or what your last name is. It's about vision, compassion, and the ability to bring people together."

Pepper leans back in her chair, her expression at least revealing some concern over your reaction. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"A lot to take in?" you interrupt, your voice rising. "Pepper, it's insane! It’s May, and the election is in November. How could I possibly be the First Lady?"

Pepper holds up a hand, trying to calm you. "I know, I know. Let me explain."

But you're on a roll now, your initial shock giving way to indignation. "Explain what? How you thought it was okay to offer me a position that requires me to be married to a stranger? Use me to score points?”

"I understand your reaction," Pepper says calmly, "but please, hear me out. This isn't about scoring political points or creating some sham marriage. We're trying to redefine what leadership looks like in this country."

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "Go on," you say, your voice tight, “because you’re still trotting out marriage.”

"We can’t outright ignore traditional expectations and polling numbers. If Steve were running as the nominee for either of the major parties, we could probably win without him being married, but since he’s running as an independent, he needs a wife. That being said, we want to move away from the traditional concept of the First Lady as just the President's wife," Pepper explains. "The vision is a First Partnership. Two people who work together. There’ve been a few First Ladies who have done more with their platform and position, and that’s what we would want for you, too.”

You chew on your lip, not persuaded yet, but a little less angry.

“We have an opportunity to show what a healthy partnership in marriage could look like to new generations. You’re my first and only choice because of your skills, experience, and the vision I know you would bring to the table. But you’re also my first and only choice because I think you two are well-suited for each other.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Pepper raises her hand to stop you.

“You and Steve don’t have to put on a show and be madly in love - that’s not what I want, that’s not what he wants or expects either.”

You frown. “What does he expect?” you ask. And then you perk up even more. “Has he agreed to this? Shouldn’t he at least be here to make the offer himself?”

Pepper sighs. “It was easier for me to convince him to run in the first place than to agree that he needed a wife.”

“But you’re telling me he did agree?”

Pepper nods. “He did.”

You unconsciously rub the empty space on your left ring finger. “Couldn’t we just get engaged and leave the question of a marriage for whether or not he wins?”

A soft laugh falls from Pepper’s mouth. “He actually asked the same thing.”

“And…?” You raise your eyes expectantly.

“The public would rake us over the coals and accuse us of only doing it as a publicity stunt. The campaign would become a gossip column on your relationship status and nothing more.”

“But isn’t it a publicity stunt?”

“We can spin a marriage that seems to appear out of nowhere. Steve’s always been a private person when it comes to his personal life. We will tell people you met through me - which is true. I thought you were well-suited for each other - which I do. When people asked why the wedding just before announcing his bid for the presidency, we tell them you two didn’t want your relationship status to become the big question on everyone’s minds so they can focus on the platforms and policies instead and that every marriage takes work regardless of the length of the courtship.”

You sit in stunned silence for a moment, trying to process everything Pepper has said. The idea of marrying someone you've never met, let alone becoming the First Lady of the United States, seems utterly surreal. And yet, there's a part of you that's intrigued by the challenge, by the opportunity to make a real difference on such a grand scale.

"I need some time to think about this," you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Pepper nods understandingly. "Of course. It's a lot to take in. But I want you to know that I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't think you were perfect for this role. Not just as a political partner, but as someone who could genuinely connect with Steve."

You raise an eyebrow. "You really think we'd be well-suited?"

"I do," Pepper says with confidence and warmth.

You rub your ring finger again, but this time you see Pepper’s eyes drop to watch your unconscious action, and you quickly stop. Her eyes, when you meet them again, are full of sympathy. You both lost husbands, but you don’t want to talk about it, yet again, and you don’t want to bring up a painful subject for her either.

She can read that in your tight-lipped smile.

So instead she says, “I can give you three days to think it over.”

You sigh and rise from your seat to go. “I don’t know if that’s long enough, but if you give me three days or three weeks, I don’t think it will change my decision I’ll land on. Give me the night to sleep on it. I think I’ll know by tomorrow morning.”

[JUNE 4 - Brooklyn, New York]

Three weeks later, your life has been packed up and put in a truck on its way to the new brownstone in Brooklyn that’s been acquired for you and Steve to move into, and you’re sitting at a table in a café a few blocks away, waiting to meet your future husband for the first time over breakfast. Every time the bell rings over the door, you dart your head to see if it’s him, but he’s evidently running late.

As you wait, checking to see if you have any messages on your phone, the bell over the door chimes once more. This time, when you look up, your breath catches in your throat. A tall, athletic man with dark skin and an easy smile has entered the café. You recognize him immediately as Sam Wilson, the new Captain America. Your heart sinks a little as you realize Steve isn't with him.

Sam spots you and makes his way over, his stride confident but casual. As he approaches, you notice the way his eyes scan the room, a habit born from years of military training and superhero work. He's dressed in civilian clothes - a leather jacket over a simple t-shirt and jeans - but there's no mistaking the aura of strength and capability that surrounds him.

"You must be the future Mrs. Rogers," Sam says with a warm smile, extending his hand. "I'm Sam Wilson. Steve asked me to come apologize and explain - and to have breakfast with you, if you’ll have me.”

You nod, forcing a smile, and shake his hand. "Of course. I understand.” You motion toward the chair across the table from you, inviting him to sit. “I know campaign prep must keep him incredibly busy."

Ever since you’d accepted the proposition to marry Steve Rogers and join him on the campaign trail to the White House, your own life had turned upside down, giving you hardly any time to breathe, and you’d been told this was only a mild version of what your own schedule was going to look like once Steve formally announced.

“Former President Bartlet agreed to meet with him, and the schedules ended up aligning this morning for Steve to go up to New Hampshire for a sit down,” Sam explains.

“President Bartlet?” you can’t help the awe in your voice. “I’d skip out on breakfast with me, too.”

“I hope I’m not a disappointment of a substitute,” Sam teases. “Since we’ll be working together as part of the senior staff, I volunteered because I was eager to finally meet you.”

His smile is genuine, and you feel the absolute truth of his sentiment. It melts away some of your disappointment and worry.

In return, your smile becomes a little warmer and easier. “I can’t help being a little disappointed - since I was hoping to finally meet my future husband - but he’s unemployed and you’re technically Captain America, so I guess it’s really an upgrade.”

Sam laughs. “Oh, I’m going to love you, I can tell.”

“Just promise me he’ll actually be at the ceremony tomorrow?” you ask. Your tone is light, but Sam calls your bluff.

His laughter fades, replaced by a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, he'll be there. Wild horses couldn't keep him away. Or androids. Or aliens. Or wizards. Or..." He trails off, realizing he might be overdoing it. "You get the idea."

You nod, appreciating Sam's attempt at humor. "I hope so. It would be pretty awkward to explain to the press why the groom was a no-show at his own wedding."

"Trust me, Steve takes this very seriously," Sam says, his tone becoming more earnest. "He may not know you yet, but he respects you and the commitment you're making. He's not the type to back out or let you down."

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. "I suppose I should get used to schedule changes and last-minute adjustments," you say, trying to keep your tone light.

"It's part of the package," Sam agrees. "But so is having a team of people who have your back, no matter what." He leans forward, his eyes meeting yours intently. "I want you to know that includes me. We're not just colleagues in this; we're family."

His words touch you deeply, and you feel a bloom of warmth in your chest, the firs time you’ve felt grounded since you agreed to do this. "Thank you, Sam," you manage to say. "That means a lot."

The waitress approaches, he orders coffee, and you both order breakfast.

As she walks away, you take a sip of the drink you’d ordered while you were waiting before, mulling over Sam's words. "Can I ask you something, Sam? You know Steve better than almost anyone. Do you think...?”

You hesitate, uncertain if you should voice your doubts to Sam. But his open, friendly demeanor encourages you to continue, and you’re going to need to learn to trust this new circle of people you’ll be surrounded with.

"Do you think this is crazy?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Marrying someone I've never even met, maybe becoming First Lady... it all feels so surreal."

Sam leans back in his chair, considering your question carefully. "Crazy? Maybe," he admits with a small smile. "But then again, I've seen a lot of crazy things in my time with the Avengers. This? This actually feels like one of the more normal things I've been part of."

You can't help but chuckle at that, some of the tension easing from your shoulders.

"Look," Sam continues, his tone becoming more serious. "I won't lie to you. It's not going to be easy. The scrutiny, the pressure, the constant demands on your time and energy - it's going to be a lot. But if anyone can handle it, it's Steve. And from what I've heard about you, I think you're up for the challenge, too."

Sam pauses as the waitress returns with your breakfasts and his coffee. Once she's gone, he continues, "Steve doesn't do anything halfway. When he commits to something, he's all in. And he's committed to this - to you, to this campaign, to trying to make a real difference."

You nod, appreciating his honesty. "And what about... us? Steve and me, I mean. Do you think we can make this work? Not just for the campaign, but as a real partnership?"

Sam's eyes soften. "Steve's one of the best men I know. He's loyal, compassionate, and has a moral compass that doesn't quit. But he's also been through a lot, and he can be... guarded. It might take some time for him to open up fully."

You absorb this information, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity about your future husband. "I appreciate your honesty, Sam," you say softly. "I guess we'll both be navigating uncharted waters."

Sam nods, taking a sip of his coffee before responding. "True, but you won't be doing it alone. Not only do you have the support of the team, but I think you and Steve might surprise yourselves. You both have a strong sense of purpose, a desire to help others. That's a solid foundation to build on."

You pick at your breakfast, mulling over Sam's words. "I just hope we can find some common ground beyond the campaign," you admit.

Sam leans in, his expression earnest. "Like I said, when Steve commits to something, he gives it his all. That includes relationships. He may be reserved at first, but once he lets you in, you'll have his unwavering loyalty and support."

You nod, feeling a bit more reassured. "I appreciate that. I’m not some hopeless romantic, I’m not looking to be swept off my feet, but I just hope we can find some chemistry, some spark beyond just being political partners."

Sam chuckles. "Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that. Steve might be from the 1940s, but he's still a red-blooded man. And you," he gestures at you with his fork, "are definitely his type."

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. "His type?"

"Smart, independent, passionate about making a difference," Sam lists off. “

Your work in non-profits, your passion for social justice - that's right up Steve's alley. Plus, you've got that whole 'take no crap' vibe that he needs. I have a sense about these things, and you have it.”

You laugh, feeling some of the tension dissipate. "Well, I'll take your word for it. Though I have to admit, the idea of being Steve Rogers' 'type' is a bit surreal."

Sam grins. "Trust me, once you two actually meet, you'll see what I mean. Just don't let that 'aw shucks' routine fool you. He might look like an all-American boy scout, but there's a lot more going on under the surface."

You raise an eyebrow. "Oh? Do tell."

Sam shakes his head, still smiling. "Nah, I'll let you discover that for yourself. Where's the fun if I spoil all the surprises?"

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. "Fine, keep your secrets. But seriously, Sam, thank you. For breakfast, for the pep talk, for everything. I'm really glad I got to meet you before tomorrow."

"Me too," Sam says, raising his coffee mug in a mock toast. "To new beginnings and unexpected partnerships."

You clink your own mug against his, feeling a surge of warmth and camaraderie. As you finish your breakfast, the conversation flows easily between you and Sam. He regales you with stories of his adventures with Steve, carefully omitting any classified details but painting a vivid picture of the man you're about to marry.

You learn about Steve's dry sense of humor, his unwavering loyalty to his friends, and his surprising skill at sketching. Sam describes missions where Steve's quick thinking saved the day, but also quieter moments - movie nights with the team, intense debates over board games, and Steve's ongoing struggle to catch up on pop culture.

As Sam talks, you find yourself leaning in, captivated by these glimpses of reality, getting to know more about the man behind the myth. And even if the next twenty-four hours will be a whirlwind of you choosing and getting fitted for your wedding dress; interviewing candidates that have been vetted for your personal staff - assistant, pr strategist, stylist, initiative director; and a bachelorette party; you feel like you’ll be able to face it all with the bit of reassurance you’ve gained by spending this time with Sam.

next part: LAS VEGAS & CLEVELAND

↠ 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!

This story will have 3-4 chapters, depending on where I split up the narrative. I anticipate about a chapter a week, usually posted on Fridays.

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x yn #red white & true #aspen wrote something #pepper potts #sam wilson

268 notes · View notes

imtryingbuck · 10 months ago

Text

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

638 notes · View notes

creative-caramel-coffee · 10 months ago

Text

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 3

Summary: Reader meets the team.

Tw: mentions of sickness, teasing

Words: 2.8K

A/n: Thanks for all the support this series has been getting :) If anyone has any suggestions for things that could happen in this series lemme know and I’ll see what I think. No smut though I don’t write that here.

The next day you woke to knocking on the bedroom door. Sitting up in bed you quietly called for whoever it was to enter.

A moment later Wanda poked her head through the door. Seeing you awake or at least semi-awake she slipped through the small space she had created.

“Good morning.” She smiled coming to sit beside you on the bed. “Did you sleep well?” She asked pressed her hand to your forehead.

“Mmm.” You hummed still half asleep.

“You don’t feel warm anymore.” She smiled at this achievement as if she was proud of you. “How are you feeling today?” She asked moving her hands to rest in her lap again.

“Tired, but that’s probably because I just woke up.” You smiled.

“Nat sent me to wake you up. She wanted to know if your well enough to meet the others today.” Wanda explained looking slightly guilty.

“I mean, I’m game if you are. Where’s Nat?” You asked coving a yawn.

“Nat’s training with steve. And not so fast, I want to know more about how you're feeling. No more headache? Cough? Wheezing? Give me something.” She grinned.

“My headaches gone, no more cough, maybe a slight wheeze I’m not too sure.” You begun and Wanda’s brow furrowed slightly at the mention of your wheezing. “I’m like ninety-nine percent sure my fever is gone, and I feel pretty good all things aside.” You finished.

“That’s good. Maybe keep your inhaler on you today just in case. And after the meeting I’ll see if I can get Bruce to give us a few spares, just in case.” Wanda said softly.

“You really don’t have to.” You said shyly toying with a loose thread on the sheets.

“Its no problem. I would make me feel better. Breathing is important.” Wanda teased easing your concerns.

“So, when’s the meeting?” You asked.

“Well, I think Nat wanted to do it as soon as possible. Like straight after training and then I’m going to make you some pancakes for brunch.” Wanda said poking your side. “But for now, hop up, get dressed and I’ll be back soon to show you where the meeting room is.” Wanda said, standing up and heading for the door.

Once wanda had left, probably to go and find Nat to call the meeting, you crawled out of bed. Rifling through your backpack you changed out your sleepshirt and shorts for a pair of black track pants and a pale-yellow t-shirt. Throwing on some goofy socks and lacing up your black converse high tops you braided your hair sat in front of the mirror and threw on some deodorant.

Once you were ready and had been to the bathroom to wash your face and go through your morning routine, you sat at peters desk.

Picking up your backpack you went through it until finding what you were looking for.

Pulling out the black sketchbook you opened it to a fresh page and began mindlessly doodling things you could see around peters room and the cityscape beyond the open curtains.

Just as you were getting into the details of the New York skyline you heard a knock on the door.

Lowering your pencil, you sat a little straighter.

“Come in.” You called your voice sounding better than it had in days. And surprisingly good for someone who had spent hours coughing and wheezing for days on end.

Wanda opened the door and smiled seeing you up and about for the first time.

“You look much better.” She commented coming to stand by your shoulder. “Wow, you’re an amazing artist.” She smiled looking at your drawings.

“Oh, um … thanks.” You smiled still a little awkward when it came to compliments. “So, what’s the news?” You asked.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” Wanda said looking up from where she had been inspecting your sketchbook. “Nat called Fury. He’s kinda the boss. He’s given the go ahead if steve and tony sign off on it. Nat then called a meeting and I’m going to bring you to the room where you're going to meet the team.” She explained.

“I have two questions.” You said.

“Shoot.” Wanda said pulling you up and gesturing to follow her out the door.

“One, is peter going to be at this meeting?” You asked as Wanda lead you down some seemingly endless corridors.

“Yes.” Wanda nodded, pressing the button to call the lift.

“And two, this Fury guy said yes? Just like that?” You asked sounding slightly confused.

“Yes and no.” Wanda begun, stepping onto the lift with you beside her. “Nat asked Jarvis, Tony’s AI assistant to pull up all CCTV footage of spider-man and separate footage based on bio-signatures. So, she could differentiate between when it was peter and when it was you in the suit. She sent Fury the files and after he reviewed them, he approved you a place on the team. If you want it and the others agree.” Wanda explained.

“Okay.” You said slowly. “Seems like a good plan.” You smiled.

And the lift dinged softly as it slowed to a stop.

“This is us.” Wanda said and you followed her out of the open doors. Walking beside her down a hallway she stopped in front of a door and paused to look at you. “You ready?” She asked, her hand on the door handle.

“Yep.” You nodded swollowing down your nerves. “Ready as I’ll even be.”

“You’ll be great. Just be yourself and they’ll love you.” Wanda said and pushed the door open.

Nat was stood at the head of the table, a screen behind her queued up with spider-man videos. She smiled at you and wanda as the rest of the people turned to face you.

Seeing the people you had only ever seen on Tv in real life was a little overwhelming at first but wanda squeezed your hand and lead you into the room to stand at the front with her and Nat.

Peter smiled at you from where he was sat beside Tony. Looking proud of you just for standing in front of the avengers.

You stood there silent for a second simply making eye contact with your shoes before Natasha spoke up.

“This is Y/n.” Nat begun, and you gave a small half wave with an awkward smile. Tony was staring you down with an unreadable expression. He looked like he was analysing your face mentally. Most likely already having connected you to Peter.

“Hi I’m Y/n Parker.” You said lifting your eyes to meet a few smiling faces around the room a fair few of them sporting shocked looks.

“Parker?” Tony echoed sounding smaller than you had ever heard from his times on Tv.

“Y/n Parker is Peters sister.” Wanda explained.

“Kid?” Tony looked hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me there were two of you?” He asked looking sad.

Peter looked slightly sick at the open disappointment his mentor was showing right now and so you stepped in before peter had a panic attack.

“Mr Stark, Sir, it was my decision to keep myself out of the spotlight. And to do that I needed to maintain a low profile. Which is harder to do when the avengers know of your existence. No offence.” You explained. And the team exchanged a few glances as they noted how you had come to Peter’s aid almost immediately.

“That’s alright, I’m sure Pete will open up now you’re here.” Tony said with a grin as he ruffled Peters hair, “Won’t-cha kiddo?” He asked with his usual charismatic charm and Peter gave a small nod and smile while he ducked his head not liking the attention.

“So, anyone have anymore questions?” You asked drawing the attention off of Peter once more much to your brothers' relief.

Looking away from the small smile he sent you as thanks you laughed, seeing every hand in the room up with a question for you, bar Nat, Peter and Wanda of course.

You looked to your left and nodded to Steve.

“Hi, nice to meet you kid.” Steve said. “I have a question though, if Peter’s identity is secret, why did you need to stay away from us?” He asked looking confused, and his statement drew a few nods around the room.

“If Tony scares you honey, I can assure you that the man would forget his own shoes without me.” Someone you recognised as Pepper Potts said with a smile causing Tony to grumble to himself. How Nat had managed to wrangle the CEO of Stark industries into this meeting you didn’t know.

Little did you know that all it took was ‘There’s something you should know, it has to do with Peter’ and she was on her way.

“Actually,” Wanda said drawing the gaze of the room to her, “This should explain it. Jarvis play the video.” She said and the lights dimmed as the Tv showed a compilation of some of your best moves in the spider-suit.

When the video ended the lights retuned to their normal brightness and everyone still looked confused.

“How exactly does a compilation of Peter doing tricks explain that?” Bruce asked.

“Um…” You said looking slightly nervous. “That was me.” You said in a small voice and the room was silent for a second.

“Sick moves kid. Peter your sister’s awesome.” Sam said and a few people laughed at his perfect comedic timing.

“Prove it.” Tony said and you paled slightly.

“Tony.” Pepper said placing her hand on his arm and shooting him a look.

“No, its ok pepper.” Nat said. “Jarvis?” Nat called to the ceiling. “Was that peter in the suit for those videos?” She asked.

“The height and weight as well as body stature and proportions do not match Master Parker.” Jarvis said.

“Ok,” Nat continued, “Who do those body descriptors match in this room?” She asked.

“The person in the suit does match the body of Miss Parker.” Jarvis said and Tony frowned.

“Do the sticky thing.” Bucky called drawing a few smiles. You rolled your eyes and put a hand up, splaying your fingers before jumping in the air and touching the ceiling where you stayed stuck.

“Crawl around.” Sam said and you glared at his heckling.

“No.” You said and you saw Peter doing his puppy eyes at you. “Fine.” You sighed.

Jumping up you did a flip and stuck your legs out, now standing on the ceiling upside down and making eye contact with Sam before looking to Bucky.

“Better?” You asked sarcastically.

“Much.” Sam grinned and you rolled your eyes again.

“Ok. Get down Y/n.” Nat said sounding part annoyed part amused at the display.

“Yes ma’am.” You said before detaching from the roof and doing a flip to landing back where you were before.

“Show off.” Peter murmured under his breath and you huffed a small laugh as his ears went red, not having expected you to hear him. Dumb super-hearing.

“Well, now we’re done with the party tricks. What are we thinking?” You asked brushing off invisible dirt from your clothes.

“Well…” Tony said. “I think its time you got your own suit.” He grinned and you smiled back. “What colours do you want kiddo?” He asked.

“Um… maybe something like purple, white and red?” You said and he nodded already sketching down ideas on a pad of paper pepper had brought with her from a meeting.

“You’re also getting an AI.” Tony added and you looked a peter who simply smiled proudly of you.

“Well, if that’s everything Y/n’s also gonna need a room.” Wanda said and Tony nodded.

“There’s a spare room on Natasha and Wanda’s floor if you want to move in with the girls. Do I need to send some movers to grab your things?” Tony asked and you looked at your shoes and shook your head.

“Not much to move.” You mumbled.

“Y/n’s apartment was taken out in the last battle. She’s been hiding out in Peter’s room for now. That’s how we met actually.” Natasha said shooting you a reassuring smile.

“Well, it sounds like I’m going to be funding yet another shopping trip.” Tony sighed and Wanda grinned at you mischievously.

“We’ll make it a girl's day.” Wanda said shooting a look at pepper.

“I’d love to.” Pepper agreed and Nat clapped her hands together.

“Alright then.” The assassin said. “I should probably tell Fury we have another spider on the team.” Nat grinned and you smiled at her.

“Great, now we have three spiders.” Tony said rolling his eyes and ducking as Pepper aimed a pretty good swing to the back of his head.

“Knock it off Tony, don’t act like you're not secretly overjoyed to have another Parker around.” Pepper said.

“Just wondering,” Bruce said looking mildly nervous as the room turned to look at him.

“Yes?” You prompted him to continue.

“Are you…” He begun before pausing, “I guess theres no real nice way to put it.” Bruce said and Tony jumped in.

“I think Brucie-bear wants to know if you come with the Parker Brain Package.” Tony said and Pepper glared at him.

“Tony.” She warned, glaring at him while you cleared your throat.

“If you’re asking about how smart I am, let’s just say I designed the original prototype for the web-shooters and chemical makeup of the fluid.” You said and Tony nodded seemingly satisfied with that small tidbit of information for now.

“Well, if nobody had anything else to say, Wanda and I are going to take Y/n for a tour of the compound.” Nat said before turning to look at Clint. “And you, have to make dinner. You lost our bet.” Nat said and then dragged you and Wanda out of the room by your sleeves.

After a very long and very comprehensive tour by Natasha and Wanda, you were shown back to the communal kitchen where most of the team ate together when they weren’t on missions.

You walked into the dining room attached to the kitchen to be hit with the smell of burnt food pungent in the air.

You looked at Nat confused, and she grinned as she heard cursing coming from the kitchen. Wanda looked like she was itching to go help but sad she pulled away Nat grabbed her sleeve at the very last second to hold her back.

“Can someone explain whats going on for me?” You asked.

“Well, Clint and Natasha can’t cook if their lives depended on it.” Wanda begun, only to shush Nat when she went to speak up. “So naturally they made a bet, loser had to cook the team dinner, naturally Clint lost so Nat is enjoying his public humiliation. And I normally cook if we aren’t getting takeout so it's causing me pain to hear whats going on in there.”

“Oh, calm down. Clints not blowing anything up.” Nat said rolling her eyes as Wanda shot her a look. “Ok that was one time.” Nat amended.

Not twenty minutes later you were sat at a table with the avengers with a plate of very burnt stake and watery mash potatoes.

“What is it?” Tony asked poking his steak.

Clint grinned. “A masterpiece.” He said.

“More like a mistake.” Nat muttered judging her steak while poking it with her knife as if she was expecting it to start moving of its own accord.

“I say we have newbie try it.” Tony posed and you rolled your eyes.

Cutting off a piece of the very tough steak with your knife you raised it to your lips and put it in your mouth.

It was tough and kind of disgusting. But you smiled anyway.

Finding the meat tougher than you had been expecting, you made the switch as you called you fangs up. Your canines sharpened as you chewed managing to decimate the meat. Swallowing you looked at Clint.

“Not the worst thing I’ve every eaten.” You said with a smirk and Tony who had been watching you closely squeaked.

“Jeez kid you didn’t tell me your sister was a vampire.” Tony said turning to Peter.

By this point most of they eyes were on you, so you hid your teeth and retracted the fangs out of embarrassment.

“She’s not. It’s a spider thing she got.” Peter said coming yo your defence.

“Either way her new name is fangs.” Tony said with a grin.

This time you glared at him.

“For the record i think they’re awesome.” Wanda said sensing your embarrassment.

“Seconded.” Nat said her spy training honing in on your body language to see you were insecure about it.

“I gotta admit it’s a cool trick doll.” Bucky said.

“Pretty neat.” Steve agreed with a smile.

“Badass.” Sam nodded flicking a still frozen pea at Bucky. “Alright, now that y/n probably has food poisoning, who wants pizza?” Nat asked with a grin. Cheers came from all sides of the table as Clint slumped dejectedly in his seat.

PART 4

473 notes · View notes

amethystarachnid · 4 months ago

Text

MRS. STARK

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 8k

ᯓ★ TW(s): mentions of kids, mentions of pregnancy (only at the end), paparazzis are a pain in the ass

ᯓ★ Timeline: not in a defined timeline, more like an AU

ᯓ★ Request: Tony stark × marriage of convenience au Tony loses his company reputation because of his playboy reputation. The board of directors demands that he fix this. Pepper suggests an arranged marriage for this. At that moment, he meets reader who is evicted from her home and needs money and proposes. In time, love develops between them. (@binsan)

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo (requests open)

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

You pace the small, dingy room you’ve called home for the past few years, the weight of eviction papers heavy in your hand. The landlord's voice echoes in your mind—“You’ve got two weeks. I can’t do this anymore.” It’s not as though you didn’t see this coming. The bills have piled up, and opportunities have been scarce. With no family to turn to and nowhere to go, you wonder how much lower things can get.

As you sit on the fraying edge of your sofa, rubbing your temples, you wonder what your next move could be. The clock ticks steadily, matching the racing thoughts in your mind. I need a miracle, you think, feeling the weight of your situation press down on you.

Meanwhile, across the city, Tony Stark is having his own personal crisis.

Tony lounges in a sleek leather chair in his office at Stark Industries, the weight of the boardroom conversation still lingering in the air. His playboy reputation, once charming and even beneficial to his image, has started to backfire. The board of directors is growing impatient—no, they’re furious—and they’ve made it crystal clear that his antics are ruining the company’s reputation. Something needs to change. Immediately.

Pepper Potts, his ever-practical assistant, stands across from him, arms crossed as she regards him with a mixture of sympathy and exasperation.

“We need damage control,” she says, her voice steady but firm. “The media is eating up every single party, every single fling. They don’t take you seriously anymore, and frankly, neither does the board.”

Tony raises an eyebrow, taking a casual sip of whiskey. “What’s your plan, Potts? A heartfelt apology tour? I’ll have to fit that between saving the world and engineering cutting-edge tech, you know.”

Pepper doesn’t flinch. “You need stability. Something solid, responsible. The kind of image that reassures people you’re not just a billionaire playboy. You need…” She hesitates, as if weighing her next words carefully. “…a wife.”

Tony nearly chokes on his drink, coughing out a laugh. “A wife? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious, Tony.” Pepper’s eyes narrow. “The board will back off if they see you’ve settled down. It shows commitment. That you're thinking long-term. And if the right woman is involved—someone respectable—then maybe people will start seeing you as the man behind the genius, not just the man at the party.”

Tony leans back, considering her words more seriously than he expected to. Marriage had never been on his radar—it’s never even been a blip. But this is different. A strategic move. A necessary one.

“Alright, say I’m interested,” he says slowly. “Where do you propose I find a wife willing to marry me for show?”

Pepper sighs. “There are plenty of women—”

“I’m not interested in one of those society climbers, Pepper. I don’t need anyone looking for a fifteen-minute spotlight or a big payout.”

Just as Tony is about to dismiss the entire conversation, the door to his office swings open. You stand there, slightly out of breath, a bundle of papers clutched to your chest.

Pepper blinks in surprise, but Tony just arches an eyebrow. “And you are?”

“I’m—” You pause, taking a breath. “I need to talk to someone. My home—” you stammer, fumbling with the words, "—I was told to come here. You helped my mother years ago. She said—if I ever needed anything—”

Tony watches you, his expression unreadable, though his eyes flicker with curiosity.

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place for help,” he says, his tone shifting from mild annoyance to sudden interest. “Why don’t you sit down? Let’s talk.”

You cautiously take a seat across from him, feeling out of place in his luxurious office. You’ve heard the stories about Tony Stark—the genius, the billionaire, the womanizer. But in this moment, you can’t afford to care about any of that. You need help, and he’s your last shot.

“Let me guess,” Tony says, leaning forward. “You’re about to lose your home. You need money. And you have nowhere to turn.”

You glance at Pepper, who looks back at you with quiet understanding, then back at Tony. “Yes,” you whisper, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on you.

He leans back again, studying you for a long moment before something shifts in his expression. A thought flickers across his mind—a spark of an idea. And then, he smiles.

“Let’s make a deal,” Tony says suddenly. His voice is calm, calculated. “I need a wife. You need a home. How do you feel about an arrangement that benefits both of us?”

Your heart stutters in your chest. “A wife?”

Tony nods. “It’s purely business. You marry me, I’ll make sure you never have to worry about money again. You’ll have everything you need—home, security, whatever. And in return, I get the board off my back. Simple.”

You blink at him, trying to process the whirlwind offer that’s just been thrown at you. It sounds insane. But then again, your whole life has become a series of impossible situations lately. And this one…well, this one comes with a solution, even if it’s wrapped in the strangest of packages.

Tony leans in, eyes locked with yours, a hint of a challenge in his voice. “What do you say?”

You sit there, staring at him as though he’s just suggested you rob a bank together. His words hang heavy in the air, and your mind races to catch up. A wife? Marry Tony Stark? The idea sounds absurd, but as your thoughts turn back to your eviction notice, you realize you might not have a choice. Desperation has a way of forcing your hand, and this—this could be your way out.

Tony watches you, his expression still unreadable, though there’s a glint in his eyes that makes you wonder if he’s enjoying your discomfort a little too much. He’s waiting for your answer, clearly expecting you to be as quick and sharp as he is.

“You’re serious?” you manage to say, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Dead serious,” Tony replies, the smirk on his face both charming and infuriating at the same time. “It’s a win-win situation. You get stability, I get a new image. We play the part for the public, keep the board happy, and in a year or two, we go our separate ways. Clean and simple.”

You stare at him, searching for any sign that this is some kind of joke, some twisted billionaire’s game. But there’s nothing playful about his gaze now. Tony Stark might be a lot of things—reckless, arrogant, brilliant—but he’s not someone who wastes time.

“What’s in it for you, really?” you ask, folding your arms defensively. “Why me? You could marry anyone—some model or socialite who would be more than happy to play the part. Why pick a random woman off the street?”

“Because you’re not a model or a socialite,” he says simply, his voice dropping a little lower. “I don’t need someone who’s after the spotlight or my bank account. I need someone who won’t get in my way. Someone who’ll keep this business.”

He pauses, watching your reaction carefully. “You don’t seem like the type to get tangled in the drama. You just need help. And that’s the kind of deal I can work with.”

You feel a lump form in your throat. It’s true—he's offering you a way out of a sinking ship. A home. Security. All the things that have been slipping through your fingers, one by one. But still, the idea of entering into a fake marriage with Tony Stark? You’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t terrify you. You’ve seen the headlines, the rumors about his womanizing ways. Could you really trust him? Could you even pull this off?

And yet, the alternative is worse. A life of uncertainty.

“Why would anyone believe it?” you ask, biting your lip as you try to find holes in the plan. “I mean…we just met. People will see through it.”

Tony chuckles softly, leaning back in his chair, a picture of relaxed confidence. “Oh, believe me, people will believe it. I’ve built an entire career on controlling the narrative. I know how to spin a story. We’ll have a whirlwind romance, some well-placed public appearances, maybe a dramatic proposal. Before you know it, the world will be eating out of our hands.”

You inhale sharply, your mind still racing. Everything about this feels so…surreal. And yet, as crazy as it sounds, it’s starting to make sense. At least from a practical standpoint.

Tony watches you closely, as though sensing the shift in your thoughts. “Look, I’m not asking you to love me, or even like me,” he says, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “This is just an arrangement. You get what you need, I get what I need. And once it’s done, you walk away with enough money to start a new life, debt-free. No strings attached.”

The words no strings attached seem to echo in your mind. You swallow hard, looking down at your hands as you twist them nervously in your lap. It’s a cold, transactional proposal. And yet…you can’t deny that it makes sense.

“What’s the catch?” you ask quietly. There has to be one. With someone like Tony Stark, there’s always a catch.

He tilts his head slightly, considering your question before shrugging. “The only catch is that for a while, you’ll be living in my world. That means the media, the attention, and probably some uncomfortable dinners with people who think they’re more important than they are. It won’t be easy.”

Your heart pounds in your chest as you weigh your options. It’s not like you have many left. The thought of staying in this small, cramped room, waiting for the inevitable eviction, is unbearable. And as much as the idea of marrying Tony Stark terrifies you, it also feels like a lifeline being thrown at the last possible second.

“So?” Tony leans forward, his gaze steady on yours. “What do you say?”

You bite your lip, the papers in your hand crinkling slightly under your grip. This might be your last chance. Your final way out.

“Alright,” you whisper, barely believing the words coming out of your mouth. “I’ll do it.”

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across Tony’s face, and he extends his hand across the desk. “Then we’ve got a deal.”

You stare at his hand for a moment before slowly reaching out to shake it, sealing the arrangement that’s about to change your life in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.

As your hand clasps his, the weight of what you've just agreed to settles in. You're about to become Mrs. Stark — at least for the world to see. And as daunting as that may be, it’s still better than the alternative.

You meet his gaze, feeling a strange mix of fear, excitement, and something else you can’t quite name.

This is only the beginning.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The next few weeks unfold in a blur of public appearances, carefully crafted smiles, and whispered conversations behind closed doors. You and Tony play the parts well, slipping into the roles of an unexpected, whirlwind romance. The media eats it up.

The first date is a public affair—dinner at a five-star restaurant in downtown Manhattan. The paparazzi are already outside when you arrive, cameras flashing like fireworks as Tony steps out of his sleek black car, offering you a hand. You take it, the warmth of his touch feeling almost foreign despite the fact you’ve grown used to his presence.

You force a smile, heart racing as you hear the shouts of photographers calling out for a picture, for a smile, for a kiss. Tony leans down, whispering in your ear, "You’re doing great. Just breathe."

It’s strange—how natural he makes it seem, how easy it is for him to slip into this version of himself, the attentive, doting boyfriend. To the world, Tony Stark is charming, smooth, and infatuated with you. And you? You’re the mystery woman who somehow captured the billionaire’s heart.

Inside the restaurant, things are a little less chaotic. You sit across from Tony, the intimate lighting making the scene feel more private than it really is. But the cameras are still there, outside the windows, snapping away.

“So,” Tony says, his voice low as he leans in, folding his hands casually on the table. “How’s the food? Pretending to enjoy yourself yet?”

You smirk, rolling your eyes as you push a piece of food around your plate. “Oh, I’m absolutely swooning. Can’t believe how lucky I am to be here with you.”

Tony chuckles, leaning back in his chair, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Good. Keep it up. The more they buy this, the less we have to deal with later.”

It’s a game. A performance. One that you both know the rules to. But as the weeks pass and the dates pile up, something shifts.

The next outing is a stroll through Central Park, and the one after that is a charity gala where Tony's hand rests on the small of your back, guiding you through a sea of high-society types who eye you curiously, wondering what you did to catch the elusive Tony Stark. And despite how staged everything is, there are moments where Tony seems less like the playboy billionaire and more…human. Moments where he cracks a joke, and you find yourself laughing a little too genuinely, or when he holds a door for you, and you catch the briefest flicker of something unguarded in his eyes.

But you’re careful to remind yourself: this is all business. You’re not here to fall for Tony Stark. You’re here to save yourself.

After weeks of these public outings, the media frenzy reaches its peak when Tony finally sets the stage for the proposal. You’ve both discussed it already—how it has to be big, dramatic, a spectacle that leaves no room for doubt.

You're dressed in a stunning gown, attending yet another high-profile charity event. The ballroom is packed, every face in the room belonging to someone rich or influential. The press is buzzing, and you can feel the weight of a thousand eyes on you.

Tony has been his usual charming self all evening, but there’s something different in the way he looks at you tonight. Almost as if this moment means something more to him. You push the thought aside, focusing on playing your part.

Just as the night seems to be winding down, Tony stands, clinking his glass to get everyone’s attention. The room falls silent, and your heart starts to pound. This is it.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Tony’s voice is smooth, his gaze never leaving yours. “I’m not usually one for speeches, but tonight, I need to break that habit. Because I have something important to say.”

The crowd watches, captivated, as Tony walks toward you, his steps slow and deliberate. Your breath catches in your throat as he stops in front of you, taking your hand.

“I’ve spent my life building things,” he says, his voice echoing through the room. “My company. My legacy. But in all that time, I never thought I’d find someone who’d make me want to build something else. Something personal. Something real.”

He drops to one knee, and for a second, the world around you seems to freeze. The gasps from the audience are barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat. He pulls out a ring, the diamond glittering under the chandeliers.

“I’m asking you, right here, in front of everyone, to make this official. Will you marry me?”

It’s all a show, of course. The practiced speech, the perfectly timed down-on-one-knee moment. But as you stare down at him, ring in hand, something about it feels too real. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, you forget that this is all a charade.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to remember the contract, the deal you made in private. This isn’t real. It never was. It’s just for the cameras, for the board, for the company. But still, you manage to smile as you nod.

“Yes,” you say softly, the word slipping from your lips like it belongs to another version of you. “I’ll marry you.”

The room erupts into applause, but you barely hear it. Tony slips the ring onto your finger, standing to pull you into an embrace. His arms wrap around you, his breath warm against your ear as he whispers, “Perfect. Now they’ll back off.”

Behind closed doors, things are starkly different. The moment you leave the public eye, Tony is already in his office, the papers spread out on his desk. You stand beside him, the diamond ring on your finger suddenly feeling heavy, reminding you of the weight of the bargain you’ve struck.

Tony flips through the pages with a calm, focused expression, glancing at you briefly. “Three years,” he says, tapping the contract. “That’s the timeline. We stay married, let the public eat it up, and after three years, we go our separate ways.”

You nod, staring at the paperwork. Your eyes catch the clause that’s been added in bold: Upon the dissolution of the marriage, Y/N will receive a sum sufficient to cover all debts and ensure financial stability for the foreseeable future.

“Once the board sees I’ve settled down, they’ll loosen their grip. By the time we’re done, you’ll have more than enough to start fresh,” Tony continues, his voice businesslike. “No strings attached. Clean break.”

You sign the papers without hesitation, feeling a strange mix of relief and something else—something you can’t quite name—as your pen scratches across the line. This is what you agreed to. It’s what you need.

But as you set the pen down, you catch Tony’s gaze, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he feels it too. The tension between what’s real and what’s part of the arrangement. The way his touch lingers a little longer than necessary when the cameras aren’t around. The way his eyes sometimes soften when they meet yours.

But before you can dwell on it, he stands, slipping the contract into a folder. “We’re good to go,” he says, his tone brisk again. “Now let’s give them the show of a lifetime.”

And so, with the contract signed and the terms laid out, you walk back into the world together—Tony Stark’s fiancée, destined for a picture-perfect marriage that will end exactly when it’s supposed to. Three years from now, you’ll walk away with everything you need.

Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

The galas become routine, a swirl of elegant gowns, expensive champagne, and the murmur of voices in rooms filled with wealth and influence. You’ve perfected the role by now—Tony’s perfect fiancée, charming, poised, always ready with a smile and the practiced story of how you two “met.”

The backstory you and Tony crafted is flawless, and it’s become second nature to you. You met at a charity event, of course. Something respectable, something that would explain why a billionaire like Tony Stark would fall for a woman like you—someone who wasn’t already a fixture of his high-society world.

Tonight’s gala is no different. The room is packed with the usual mix of celebrities, business moguls, and old-money aristocrats. You stand beside Tony, your arm linked through his as you make your way through the crowd, the warm glow of chandeliers overhead. Tony’s hand rests on the small of your back, and even though it’s all part of the act, you can’t ignore the comfort of his presence anymore.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice draws your attention, and you turn to see a woman with a dazzling smile approaching. She’s dripping in diamonds, her manicured hand clutching a flute of champagne. “You two look amazing tonight. I swear, every time I see you, you just glow more. It’s like you were made to be by Tony’s side.”

You smile graciously, the practiced ease of it making you feel a little guilty. “Thank you, that’s so kind.”

She leans in, eyes twinkling. “I just love your story. It’s so romantic! I mean, meeting at a charity gala and then falling in love like that? It’s like something out of a movie. How lucky are you?”

Lucky. You bite back the irony of that word, nodding instead. “It was unexpected, but…fate works in mysterious ways, right?”

“Oh, definitely! Tony must’ve been swept off his feet the moment he saw you,” she says with a conspiratorial wink, clearly enjoying the idea of the elusive Tony Stark being anything but untouchable.

You glance at Tony, who’s deep in conversation with some business associates nearby, the cool confidence never leaving his face. You know the truth behind that first meeting—how he found you when you were at your lowest, desperate and vulnerable. But none of these people will ever know that. To them, this is a fairy tale. And you? You’re the lucky girl who got to marry the prince.

Another couple approaches, and the cycle begins again. Compliments, questions about the wedding, and endless retellings of your "love story." You smile through it all, playing your part perfectly, while Tony occasionally sends a reassuring glance your way. He knows how exhausting these events can be, but it’s all part of the plan. You keep up the charade for the media, the board, and everyone else who needs to believe this romance is real.

The wedding comes faster than you expected. After months of public appearances, interviews, and carefully orchestrated photo ops, the big day is finally here. It’s everything the world expects it to be—grand, lavish, and utterly flawless.

The ceremony takes place in a sprawling estate, the gardens decorated with flowers that seem to stretch on for miles. The guest list is as exclusive as it gets—celebrities, politicians, business moguls. The kind of wedding that would dominate headlines for weeks, exactly as planned.

You stand in front of a full-length mirror, staring at yourself in the wedding gown. It’s breathtaking, really. The lace and silk hug your body perfectly, the veil trailing behind you like something out of a dream. It should feel like a fantasy, but there’s something surreal about the whole thing.

Pepper walks in, smiling softly at you as she adjusts your veil. “You look beautiful,” she says, her voice gentle. “Everything’s set. The press is buzzing already.”

You nod, taking a deep breath as you stare at your reflection, trying to ignore the knot in your stomach. This is it. The moment where you and Tony take your fake relationship to the next level in the eyes of the world.

Pepper gives you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder before stepping out, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The ceremony begins, and you make your way down the aisle, each step feeling heavier than the last. Your heart pounds in your chest as you see Tony standing at the altar, looking impossibly dashing in his tailored suit. His eyes meet yours, and for a brief moment, the world around you fades.

You force a smile, reminding yourself this is all part of the plan. But as you approach him, something changes. The look in his eyes is different—there’s a softness there, a vulnerability you haven’t seen before. It throws you off guard, and suddenly, you’re not so sure if this is just an act anymore.

The officiant begins, and you stand there, hand in hand with Tony, reciting the vows you both know are meant to be temporary. But with each word spoken, the lines between what’s real and what’s pretend blur just a little more.

“I, Anthony, take you, Y/N, to be my lawfully wedded wife…”

His voice is steady, but there’s something in his tone that makes your breath catch. You stare at him, searching his face for any sign that he’s just playing the part like you are. But in this moment, with the whole world watching, it almost feels like something else.

“I, Y/N, take you, Anthony, to be my lawfully wedded husband…”

The words slip from your lips, and as you say them, they feel heavier than you expected. Your heart beats faster as Tony’s thumb brushes lightly over the back of your hand. The gesture is so small, so intimate, that for a moment you forget everything—the contract, the deal, the carefully planned charade.

The officiant asks if there are any objections, and the crowd is silent, holding their collective breath. You can feel Tony’s eyes on you, and when he lifts your veil, the world seems to slow.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours, and for that brief, fleeting moment, it feels real. The kiss is soft, hesitant, as if neither of you are sure where the line between pretend and reality is anymore. The applause erupts, but all you can hear is the pounding of your own heartbeat.

You pull away, your eyes locking with his, and for just a second, there’s something unspoken between you. Something that neither of you are willing to admit.

But then the moment passes, and Tony’s signature smirk returns as he lifts your hand, showing off the ring to the crowd. The cameras flash, the guests cheer, and just like that, you’re Mrs. Stark—at least in the eyes of the world.

As the reception begins, you can’t shake the feeling that something changed between you two at that altar. Something neither of you expected. But before you can dwell on it too much, Tony is by your side, his arm slipping around your waist as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Congratulations, Mrs. Stark. You’ve officially survived the hardest part.” His tone is playful, but when you glance up at him, there’s a flicker of something deeper in his gaze.

You force a smile, nodding as you look out over the sea of guests. You’ve done it. You’ve played your part perfectly.

But deep down, you can’t help but wonder: Was it all still just an act? Or did something real happen between you and Tony in that brief, unguarded moment?

You push the thought aside, reminding yourself of the contract, of the plan. In three years, this will all be over, and you’ll walk away debt-free, just as promised.

But for now, you’re Mrs. Stark. And for better or for worse, that’s the role you have to play.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The first few months of marriage pass in a delicate dance of closeness and distance. You and Tony keep up appearances for the press and the public, playing your parts to perfection. The media can't get enough of the two of you—the glamorous, whirlwind couple that keeps everyone talking. But behind closed doors, things are changing. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, the boundaries of your arrangement begin to blur.

At home, away from the cameras and prying eyes, Tony is different. It starts with small gestures. He brings you coffee in the mornings, just the way you like it, without you ever asking. You catch him looking at you when he thinks you’re not paying attention, his expression softer than the public version of Tony Stark. It’s in the way he lingers when you pass each other in the hallway, his hand brushing yours just a little longer than necessary, his gaze lingering a little too long.

The nights spent in the massive Stark Tower feel less like a performance and more like something genuine. You find yourselves talking late into the night—about everything, about nothing. Sometimes it’s about work, other times it’s about things neither of you have shared with anyone else. Tony talks about his parents, about how lonely it was growing up despite all the wealth and success. You open up about your life before all of this, the struggles, the dreams you gave up on, and the ones you still hope for.

There are moments when it almost feels real—like you’re not playing a part anymore. Moments when Tony’s laugh is so genuine, so unguarded, that you forget this is all temporary. There are nights when he falls asleep next to you on the couch after watching some terrible movie you both made fun of the entire time, his arm slung over the back of the sofa, just barely touching you. And when he stirs in his sleep and pulls you a little closer, you don’t pull away.

You tell yourself it’s still part of the arrangement—that none of this changes the contract or the plan. But deep down, you know better. This isn’t just about saving his reputation anymore. Somewhere along the line, things got complicated.

But as the months pass, the press starts to ask questions. At first, they’re subtle—tiny, whispered headlines about the perfect couple, alluding to the next big story. “Stark Wedding Still the Talk of the Town,” they say. But then, the speculation begins to shift.

“When are the Starks Starting a Family?” The headline is plastered on the front of every tabloid, and soon it’s the only thing people want to know.

You notice it at the galas, in the way people casually ask about your future plans with a knowing smile, as if it’s only a matter of time before you announce a pregnancy.

“Any little Starks running around soon?” A woman asks you one night at an event, her voice dripping with curiosity as she sips her champagne. You force a smile, your practiced response already prepared.

“Oh, we’re just enjoying married life for now,” you say, deflecting the question as you’ve done a hundred times before. But it’s getting harder to avoid. The press is relentless, constantly speculating about why you and Tony haven’t started a family yet.

And then one night, during a quiet dinner at home, Tony brings it up.

“We need to address this,” he says, setting down his wine glass and looking at you seriously. “The whole ‘when are you having kids’ thing. It’s becoming an issue.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling a knot of tension forming in your chest. “What do you mean?”

“The press. The board. Hell, even Pepper has been asking me about it.” He leans back in his chair, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “They think if we don’t at least make it look like we’re planning to have kids, the whole marriage thing starts looking fake.”

You swallow, the weight of his words settling in. You’ve known this day would come—that eventually, people would start to question the validity of your marriage if they didn’t see the next logical step. But you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Or to feel so…complicated.

“And what do you want to do about it?” you ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

Tony looks at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. “We can’t have kids. Not under this arrangement,” he says, his voice careful, measured. “That’s too far. We’ve been keeping everything business, and that… that’s different.”

You nod, relief and something else—something like disappointment—washing over you. The idea of having a child with Tony never even crossed your mind. It would complicate everything, not just the contract but your own tangled feelings.

“But,” Tony continues, his tone shifting as if he’s trying to solve one of his impossible engineering problems, “we could make it look like we’re…trying. Just enough to keep people off our backs.”

You stare at him, feeling a strange tightness in your chest. The idea of pretending to try for a family seems too intimate, too close to something real. But you understand what he’s saying. It’s part of the performance. Just like everything else.

“And what does that look like?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Tony shrugs, but there’s an edge of discomfort to his usually confident demeanor. “We drop a few hints. Let the media speculate. Maybe mention something in an interview about how we’re not ruling it out. We don’t have to do anything drastic, just… give them something to talk about.”

You nod, knowing that it’s the logical next step. But as you sit there, staring at him across the table, you can’t shake the feeling that pretending to plan a family feels more dangerous than anything else you’ve done so far. Because even though the idea of kids has never been part of the equation, the thought of what that implies—what it means for the two of you—makes your heart race.

The truth is, things have changed between you and Tony. You’re not just business partners playing a role anymore. Somewhere along the way, you’ve become…something else. And the thought of what that might mean, of what you could become, scares you more than anything.

Tony watches you carefully, as if he’s trying to gauge your reaction. For a moment, there’s silence between you, thick with unspoken things. And then he says, almost too softly, “This isn’t what either of us signed up for. I know that. But… I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. It’s the closest either of you has come to acknowledging that things between you have become more complicated than just a contract.

“I’m okay with it,” you say quietly, though you’re not sure if that’s entirely true. But it’s the only answer you can give right now. “We can give them something to talk about. We’ve handled worse, right?”

Tony’s smile is small, almost sad, and for a brief moment, you wonder what would happen if things were different—if this weren’t just an arrangement. If the feelings that had started to bloom between you weren’t confined by the terms of a contract set to expire in three years.

But you push the thought away, telling yourself that none of this can be real. Not the lingering touches, not the late-night conversations, not the way your heart skips a beat when Tony’s gaze lingers on you a little too long.

Because it’s all still part of the plan. Isn’t it?

The press will get their story about you and Tony “trying for a family,” and you’ll continue to play your part. But behind closed doors, where the cameras can’t reach, the lines between performance and reality are growing more and more blurred.

And neither of you seems quite sure where one ends and the other begins anymore.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The media frenzy never really stops. Every event, every gala, every time you and Tony are seen in public, the question of starting a family hangs in the air like a cloud, waiting to burst. At first, you both handle it with practiced ease—hinting at possibilities, making vague remarks about enjoying married life for now. The press eats it up, but as the months drag on, the whispers grow louder.

“Are the Starks having trouble conceiving?” “Is there tension in the Stark household?”

The headlines shift from speculation about when you’ll have children to rumors about why you haven’t yet. It’s a delicate dance, one that requires both you and Tony to show the right amount of affection in public, but with subtle hints of strain.

You both knew this would happen. The plan was to invent a story, an excuse that would explain why the perfect couple—the marriage that saved Tony’s reputation—was struggling to take that next step. And so, the story was crafted. You and Tony were “trying,” but it wasn’t working out. The media took the bait, sympathy replacing the pressure, as reporters switched from prying into your marriage to speculating about the emotional toll of fertility struggles.

It’s a brilliant strategy, really. The public buys it, the board of directors remains satisfied that Tony’s personal life is still under control, and you keep the illusion alive. But behind closed doors, things are different. The tension between you and Tony isn’t from some fabricated difficulty of trying for children—it’s from the unspoken truth neither of you can fully face.

Time is running out.

Three years. That was the deal.

You and Tony sit in front of the fireplace in the penthouse one night, the crackling warmth filling the space as the two of you remain lost in your own thoughts. The contract’s expiration date is approaching, looming over both of you like a shadow.

Tony leans back in his chair, his drink untouched beside him. He’s been quieter lately, more thoughtful, but you chalk it up to the usual pressures of running Stark Industries. Or at least, you tell yourself that’s all it is. But deep down, you know something has shifted. It’s been building slowly, a subtle tension, one you can’t quite place but feel all the same.

“You know,” Tony says suddenly, breaking the silence, “we’ve been doing a hell of a job keeping this thing going.” His voice is casual, but there’s an edge to it, a seriousness that pulls at something inside you.

You nod, turning to face him. “Yeah, we have.”

“And the press,” he continues, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. “They’ve got their story. We’ve given them everything they need. Sympathy, speculation, the whole package.”

You know where this is going, and the weight in your chest tightens. He’s bringing it up—the end. The divorce. The part of the plan that always seemed so far away, until now. You’ve kept the charade alive for years, and now it’s time to walk away, just like you agreed.

“Right,” you say softly, your voice catching in your throat.

But Tony doesn’t stop there. He stands, pacing slightly, his hands shoved in his pockets. His brow is furrowed, his face caught in that thoughtful expression he gets when he’s working through something complicated.

“Look, we’ve played this game long enough. And you’ve held up your end. More than held up your end, actually.” He pauses, glancing at you. “So, we could, you know…call it.”

You stare at him, feeling the weight of the conversation settle heavily on your shoulders. This is it. The moment where everything unravels, where you go back to being two people with separate lives.

But Tony isn’t looking at you with the same confidence he usually has when he’s broaching a difficult subject. He seems…uncertain. As if he’s weighing something deeper, something he hasn’t fully admitted yet.

You take a breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yeah. That’s what we agreed on, right?”

There’s a pause. Tony walks over to the window, staring out at the city below. His reflection is visible in the glass, but his expression is unreadable.

“We did,” he says, but the conviction in his voice is missing.

You watch him, waiting for him to say something more, to tell you what’s really on his mind. The silence between you stretches, the unspoken things hanging heavy in the air. It’s as if both of you are waiting for the other to say what neither of you is ready to admit.

“Tony…” you start, but he cuts you off, turning to face you, his eyes more serious than you’ve ever seen them.

“Y/N, I don’t think I can do this.”

Your heart skips a beat. For a moment, you’re not sure what he means. “Do what?”

He steps closer, his gaze locking onto yours, intense and raw. “Divorce you. Let you go. Walk away and pretend like none of this ever happened.”

The air between you shifts, charged with a tension that’s been building for months, maybe longer. Tony’s words hang there, vulnerable and exposed, and it hits you all at once—this isn’t just about the deal anymore.

“Tony…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.

He closes the distance between you, his hands reaching for yours, his grip warm and strong. “I know this wasn’t part of the plan. I know we were supposed to walk away after three years and never look back, but…” He pauses, swallowing hard. “But I don’t want that.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Tony’s eyes search yours, his expression raw in a way you’ve never seen before. The walls he always keeps up, the armor he wears in public, are completely gone now.

“This thing between us, it’s not just for show anymore. I thought I could keep it separate—business and personal—but I can’t. I care about you. And I know we agreed that this was temporary, but it doesn’t feel temporary to me anymore.”

The truth you’ve been avoiding, denying to yourself for so long, crashes over you. It’s not just him. It’s you, too. Somewhere along the way, between the public dates and the private moments, the late-night conversations and the quiet mornings, you’ve fallen for him. Despite all your attempts to keep this arrangement strictly professional, you’ve found yourself caring more than you ever thought possible.

You stare at him, your heart racing. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” He exhales, his voice softening. “I don’t want to lose you, Y/N. I don’t want to walk away from this. From us.” He pauses, his gaze never leaving yours. “I love you.”

It feels like the world stops for a moment. His words hang in the air between you, and you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

Your hand tightens around his, your voice trembling slightly as you reply, “I love you too, Tony.”

It’s the first time either of you has admitted it, the first time you’ve said it out loud. And suddenly, everything clicks into place. This was never just an arrangement, not for either of you. Somewhere along the way, it became real.

Tony steps closer, cupping your face with his hands, his eyes soft and full of emotion. “Then let’s forget the contract. Forget the plan. Let’s do this for real.”

You nod, tears welling up in your eyes as you lean into him, his lips brushing yours in a tender, genuine kiss. The kiss feels like a promise, like the beginning of something you’ve both been building toward without even realizing it.

The contract, the public charade, the expectations—it all falls away. This isn’t about saving Tony’s reputation anymore. It’s about the two of you, finally being honest with yourselves, and with each other.

You pull back slightly, smiling through the tears. “No more pretending.”

“No more pretending,” Tony agrees, his smile mirroring yours as he kisses you again, this time with the weight of everything left unsaid now spoken. The future no longer feels like a ticking clock or an obligation to a deal. It feels like a life you’ve both chosen—together.

The night Tony confesses his love changes everything. The walls that once separated the two of you—the boundaries of your arrangement—come crashing down. That night, for the first time, everything feels real, not just in your hearts but in the way you move together, shedding the last vestiges of the deal that brought you into each other's lives.

After Tony’s confession, the two of you barely make it to the bedroom, too consumed by the need to be closer, to feel each other in a way that wasn’t hidden behind performance or pretense. His lips trace over your skin, soft but insistent, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you. You respond with equal intensity, your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as your bodies mold together effortlessly. The chemistry that’s been building for so long, simmering beneath the surface, finally explodes into something overwhelming, passionate, and real.

That night is unlike anything you’ve experienced with Tony before. It’s not about appearances or duty—it’s about desire, love, and the raw, unspoken connection you’ve always felt but never fully acknowledged. In every kiss, every touch, there’s an unspoken promise of a future you both want—a future no longer bound by a contract.

You spend the night wrapped in each other’s arms, the lines between where you end and Tony begins blurred in a way that makes you feel whole.

Months later, everything feels different. The weight of the contract, the looming deadline—it’s all gone now. You and Tony are free, not just from the obligations of your arrangement, but from the barriers you put up to protect yourselves. And it feels good. Better than good.

The press still follows your every move, but now, when you’re photographed together, it’s not an act. You’re truly in love, and it shows in every stolen glance, every casual touch.

And then, something else shifts. A few months after that unforgettable night, you notice something’s changed—within you. At first, you dismiss it, but as the signs become more obvious, the truth hits you like a tidal wave. You’re pregnant.

Telling Tony is a moment you’ll never forget. He’s in his workshop when you find him, hunched over some new project, completely immersed in his work. You’re nervous, but when you say the words, his reaction is everything you could have hoped for. He freezes for a moment, blinking as if he didn’t hear you correctly.

“Wait, what?” He straightens up, his eyes wide, his face a mixture of shock and awe. “Are you serious?”

You nod, unable to keep the smile from spreading across your face. “Yeah. We’re having a baby.”

For the first time since you’ve known him, Tony Stark is speechless. He just stares at you, his expression softening before he breaks into a grin. And then he crosses the room in two strides, scooping you up into his arms, spinning you around as he laughs—really, genuinely laughs.

“We’re having a baby,” he repeats, his voice filled with wonder.

The night of the gala is perfect. The two of you arrive hand in hand, the press buzzing around you as always, but this time there’s something different in the air. You haven’t made the announcement yet, but tonight is the night.

You wear a stunning dress, custom-made to skim over the subtle curve of your belly. It’s not obvious yet, but you know the media will spot the signs—sharp eyes never miss a detail. And when you and Tony take the stage, everyone’s watching.

Tony steps up to the microphone, his usual swagger in full effect. “So, I know you’ve all been wondering,” he starts, flashing that charming grin of his, “about when the Starks are finally going to have some big news to share.”

The crowd murmurs in anticipation, cameras flashing as the press leans in, hanging on his every word.

He turns to you, his gaze softening as he reaches for your hand. “Well, the wait’s over. Y/N and I are expecting our first child.”

The room erupts in applause, gasps and cheers filling the air as the cameras go wild. Tony pulls you into his side, kissing your temple as you both beam at the crowd, the love between you palpable.

After the announcement, the two of you make your rounds, mingling with the guests, accepting congratulations, and soaking in the joy of the moment. But later, when the two of you finally find a quiet corner, away from the crowd, Tony’s hand rests on your belly, his thumb tracing slow circles over the fabric of your dress.

“So,” he says, his voice low, filled with affection, “what do you think? Boy or girl?”

You laugh, leaning into him. “I don’t know. But I have a feeling they’re going to have your charm and your appetite for chaos.”

Tony grins, his hand moving to cradle your face. “Lucky for them, they’ll have your heart and patience to balance it out.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Let’s just hope they don’t inherit your knack for getting into trouble.”

He chuckles, pulling you closer. “Hey, trouble is part of the Stark legacy.”

You smirk, resting your hand on top of his. “Well, as long as they don’t inherit your driving skills, we’ll be fine.”

Tony gasps dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “My driving skills are impeccable! You love my driving.”

You give him a look, raising an eyebrow. “I love you, Tony. Your driving… not so much.”

He laughs, leaning in to kiss you softly, and for a moment, the world outside fades away. It’s just the two of you—together, happy, and ready for whatever comes next.

As the night winds down, Tony pulls you aside once more, his lips close to your ear as he whispers, “I can’t believe this is our life now. I can’t believe we’re doing this—for real.”

You smile, your heart swelling with love as you whisper back, “Neither can I. But I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else.”

And with that, Tony leans down, pressing a playful kiss to your belly before looking up at you with a mischievous grin. “Just so you know, the kid’s first words are totally going to be ‘Iron Man.’”

You burst out laughing, swatting his arm. “Not if I have anything to say about it!”

Tony winks, pulling you into his arms. “We’ll see about that, Mrs. Stark. We’ll see.”

I hope you liked this story! <3

148 notes · View notes

missmarveledsblog · 5 months ago

Text

It's only pretend right? ( Bucky barnes x reader ) part one

summary : bucky (more so steve) agree's to be Y/N fake boyfriend for a week at her families ranch , he discovers his best friend left out some part that not all of her family is accepting of her but bucky is gonna be there every step to show them why she the best .

warnings : none well some shitty members of family , slow fast burn , idiots in love , mutual pining ,

A.N : this has been on back burner for so long so decided to let her out , sort of goofy love story some angst thrown in but mostly fluffy our dear bucky deserves that

The sun gleamed through the sky as most of the team enjoyed the rare time off, that was until her screams rang out through the compound sending him to break out into a sprint to the noise. He moved so fast it could have been compared to pietro maximoff not that he cared for anything like that , not in these moments . Due to the universe and its cruel ongoing joke , he was expecting the worst case scenario. Was she taken? , fighting against assailants? Was she hurt? It all came to his mind as he ran toward the source of the noise and yet in an instant that fear melted away when he heard her giggles and laughs looking in with now amusement. The sight was something James Buchanan Barnes couldn’t help smile so widely at . There he watched as three avengers stood like naughty children trying not to laugh at their own actions covered in ice cream and god knows what else. .

“ Now pretty girl not so funny now is it?” Sam teased.

“ What is going on here?” Bucky crossed his arms.

“ Well little miss here thought it was funny when poor stevie here fell spilling ice cream all over himself” sam started.

“ Actually you laughed first. If I can remember , I may have given her something to laugh at. "Steve chuckled.

“ He hit him right in the face with ice cream” she fell into Steve in a burst of laughter. “ So I showed her how it felt,”Sam nudged her.

“ Literal children '' Tony rolled his eyes looking at the earth's mightiest heroes covered head to toe in a now melted sweet treat.

“ Hey in my defense I came in to make the team something to cool down. They insisted on helping” she held her hands up.

“ Well that defense goes out the window when you're the one who tripped cap” tony smirked .

“ you little..” Steve began chasing her .

“ language” she giggled, rushing to get away from the super soldier which usually wasn’t an easy feat but the ice cream that covered the floor both helped and hindered her escape.

“ Bucky help” she ran into the men's arms , a both sudden and most welcomed action.

“ Leave my doll alone punk” he carried her out chuckling when he turned his head to see her sticking her tongue out at his best friend.

“Very mature” steve copied her action.

“ Just friends my ass,” Sam called.

She didn’t hear the words , still now aimlessly talking about her sister's new dog but bucky heard. A phrase he wished he could say was fact but it wasn’t because they were just friends . How he wished he could call the most beautiful being he’s ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on in all the years he’d been alive . how even something as hearing her voice made his worst days the best. How her laugh was in his own words definitely heaven sent. In four years , 2 with shield and 2 with the team he had studied every detail of the woman at his side , first because he didn’t trust new people then it was because he actually wanted to get to know her , the more he found out the more he fell for her. All her mannerisms he knew so he could tell when she wasn’t having a great day and he made it his mission to make it better. How she bristled like a kitten at the sight of John Walker, something he found in common and found adorable all in one.

If anyone were to ask James Barnes to describe his perfect woman that description would have been Y/N L/N because to him she was perfect. How she cared so deeply about those around her friends , family or even a casualty in a mission. That soft , sweet side along with the spitfire , kickass , stubborn and oh so sarcastic side that could rival stark in every way. She was serious when it came to missions but would be the first to cheer up and make everyone laugh after the mission . so it wasn’t hard at all for Bucky to fall for the woman. What he found hard was trying to express how he felt. When he went to tell her how he truly felt, suddenly he felt like he had swapped bodies with pre-serum Steve back in the day or the spider kid. Words would sometimes fail to even come out his mouth which was better when the words jumbled or stuttered , a stumbling mess that ultimately shut him up changing the topic completely.

“ So now I got the time off and all well I have to go for like a week and need to find a date in the next 24 hours” she sighed knocking the man back to earth completely confused to what she was talking about.

“ Sorry, what doll?” he shook his head.

“ My family reunion is a big deal sort of thing , my sister and brother both proposing to their girlfriends” she laughed .

“ hey bucky can go… sorry” steve winced seeing her jumping at his sudden appearance.

“ missions ?” she rolled her eyes.

“ Thor and Loki will be here,” Steve shrugged.

“ Well then settled i’ll be your date” bucky smiled awkwardly wanting to kiss his best friend's ass .

“ wait really … oh my god thank you bucky i’ll make it up and promise not to be the world worst fake girlfriend , ok i gotta pack you should do the same, oh nat waiting for me and i need to shower” she beamed almost skipping off to her room .

“ i’ll help him out” steve called .

“ Your welcome jerk,” the blonde chuckled before walking ahead toward his best friend's room while the man in question tried computing what the hell happened .

“ what the hell happened you” nat chuckled sitting on the bed looking her best friend walking in covered in god know what.

“ food fight with cap and bird brain” she shook her now stiff hair.

“Steve tells me Bucky is going to be your fake boyfriend for the week” she wiggled her brows.

“ yeah let me shower first and freak out about that after” she ran into the ensuite heart pounding. Nerves coursing through her as she had to pretend to be in love even though she was definitely not going to fake it. Since day one of meeting James Buchanan Barnes , well had her hook line and sinker. How could he not the man would cause a nun to sin with how hot he was. Pair that up with caring , understanding and all around amazing well she never stood a chance. Now she was going to spend the week pretending , almost having a taste of what it would be like to be the one he called his . even thinking of it made her knees weak and yet she shook it from her head knowing natasha was sitting outside on her bed. Scrubbing her hair as she giggled while sprinkles fell at her feet and enjoying the mobility of her hair again .

While only across the hall Bucky Barnes was panicking as he thought of the whole thing once Steve filled him in on the conversation he missed .

“ This is perfect. I mean you could make this the week you confess and finally get your girl” the blonde beamed brightly.

“ or completely screw up and lose her completely because let's be real with my life that is the most likely option” he pulled the case out.

“ Aye my man finally got the girl '' Sam cheered as he walked into the room

'' One shut up she could hear you and two I'm a fake boyfriend” he hissed, shutting the door .

“ well put on a good show that she will want the real thing… not like that not already of the case” he mumbled .

“ ok sit we can do this, '' Steve led him to the bed, pulling out clothes and a couple of suits .

'' What if I screw this up so bad she’ll quit the team and I'll never see her again” he stood pacing while the other two men rolled their eyes .

“ or you’ll see what we see '' Steve mumbled but the man before them was too lost in his head to pay attention to the non stop hints they tried to but he never did so it wasn’t anything new .

“ ok so the clothes end will be sorted and tony agreed to the time off well he told me to tell you not to waste it” steve smirked before heading off into the bathroom . “ Clint said he can drop you both off before he heads home so flights are covered,” Sam added .

“ Ok man, think of this week , where you don’t have to hide those feelings where you can act around her like you’ve always wanted to act” Sam turned, seeing Bucky still freaked out.

“ What if I make her uncomfortable?” he asked.

“ i’m not saying bang her on the spot i mean little thing like when your trying to hide the fact you stare at her like stark looks at his suits or pepper” sam rolled his eyes.

“ he’s right Stark loves those suits and you love Y/N'' Steve teased throwing the bag of toiletries into the suitcase.

“ this can be good … or it's going to be a complete disaster” .

“ how the hell am i going to do this… is it too late to fake my death and start a new life” she asked pacing while Nat and now wanda took the task to pack her suitcase.

“ No faking your death” nat rolled her eyes as wanda giggled .

“ how the hell am i going to convince my parents i’m with bucky but not scare off my best friend… male best friend” she corrected herself after nat shot her a look.

“ Be the way you guys are already,” Wanda winked.

“ be serious here i don’t want to lose my best friend.. You know what i mean” she rolled her eyes at nat.

“ You won't ok , you couldn’t lose Bucky even if you tried. '' Nat smiled softly just like the guys, the woman before them was completely oblivious to what was in front of her.

"I'd cancel but i can’t miss my brother and sister's engagement .. to separate people we ain’t that far down south '' she clarified hearing the words coming out her mouth . “ We know what you mean , look, just use the time to get the taste of the experience” nat said.

“ Maybe your eyes will finally see,” Wanda whispered under her breath.

“ hopefully we can sell it enough so my aunts and uncles finally stop with their matchmaking and finally like me i mean one of their blind dates brought me to a strip club was fun i mean he even gave me my own ones but that doesn’t scream marry me , ”she winced as the two women fell into a fit of laughter.

“ Is that why I keep finding glitter on you?” Nat wiped tears from her eyes.

“ Yeah, that courtesy of candy , we’re friends on facebook , great gal was gonna hire her for peter's birthday next month actually ” she smiled.

“ You'll kill the kid,” Wanda snorted.

“ Hey, death by candy is a way to go,”she winked.

“ You realize she and Peter are the same age and now i don’t know if you want bucky or candy” nat teased.

“ Ok enough on my bi curiosities of my new stripper friend , how am i going to survive a week of pretending to be in love but not in love with my best friend … nat stop glaring you know what i mean” .

“ This is gonna kill me”she fell back onto the bed.

Ten minutes he must have been standing at the door paralyzed nerves taking over and words escaping his mind to why he was there.

“ Just knock man this is pitiful , to think this is the once feared winter soldier can’t even knock on chicks door” tony rolled his eyes as bucky glared at the man. “ oh for fuck sake , thank me later terminator , don’t screw it up” was all the billionaire said before thumping the door and running off a bucky stood looking down the hall to contemplate how this was his life.

“ fucking asshole should of kill him instead of how… how are you doll you busy” he caught himself as she looked puzzled at the man. He could hear the laughs before the two women came to view .

“ shes all your barnes” nat winked letting him only confirm more people were aware of his feelings .

“ Tell candy we say hello” Wanda snorted as she followed Nat down the hall. “Candy?” he arched his brow.

“ my new erm .. stripper friend .. come in “ she cleared her throat trying to ignore the glint in his eyes when she said it.

“ what… actually tell me another time I'm here to go over a back story like the way we do on missions so I don't say the wrong thing or we get caught out” he smiled softly as her own feature light up at the suggestion .

“ You clever son of a bitch” she danced excitedly. The little drawl in her voice came out more when she was either happily excited or pissed off.

“ i didn’t even think of that , i mean you’ve met my parents not my siblings so sorry for that .. you’ll understand when you meet them” she snorted leading him into the room and toward her sofa .

“ Ok so obviously we met at work which I think my mom and dad just wanna prove i am actually an avenger” she chuckled.

“ Who asked who out?” he asked softly.

“Well I mean you asked me out cause if my aunts think the other way around they will think you're desperate or held hostage they have old way of thinking on somethings” she winced.

“ Ok deal , how long have we been together?” he asked .

“ Six months it's not too long to wonder why we aint been announced and not too short for you to meet the family” she nodded.

“ PDA” he coughed, hiding the nervous break in his voice.

“ Whatever you're comfortable with, we don’t have to go full PDA so I won't jump you during family dinner” she teased . “ Well I mean we cuddle and hold hands all time so that part ain’t so hard right ” she added her cheeks flushing.

“ No, it's a fine doll, I mean it’s kinda handy knowing all about you , well I thought I did until the whole stripper thing” he laughed.

“ Hey candy is an artist and everything huh? My my bucky barnes i didn’t know you were a fan” she teased .

“ says the one with 50 pictures next to my exhibit” he countered .

“ Hey, it's not my fault bird brain can't take a good picture anyway, shut it before I can switch you out with candy” she stuck her tongue out .

“ I mean you could but do they know her like they know me” he asked .

“ unless they frequent strip clubs when they visit.. Ok i grossed myself out”she scrunched up her nose at the thought while bucky though she was the cutest thing to ever exist.

"Go on doll hit the hay Clint is bringing us so you know it’s going to be early as hell” he stood kissing her head before walking out the room while she in turn fell on to the bed knowing the star of the dreams she was going to have was just across the hall.

next part

152 notes · View notes

hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch · 7 months ago

Text

Lessons in love

Chapter 1: A new professor

Summary: You’re a new professor at Avengers U and one of the first students you meet is Wanda maximoff, when you make her stay behind your class due to her friends childishness you find out she might be more than you thought, Wanda on the other hand is a huge gay mess and can’t deal with anything you do

Paring: Professor!Y/n x college!Wanda maximoff

Warnings: 18+ only Minors DNI lots of innuendos, swearing and Nat being really annoying to Wanda (let me know if I’ve missed any)

A/n: I’ve watched Bloomington again but I’ve not followed the plot for this story but it’s inspired by it, but there will be a happy ending because I can’t end things in sadness

Wanda wasn’t in the mood, she didn’t want to be in class today and didn’t know why she was here, they were getting a new professor this year, what a waste of time, you had the same teacher for the 4 years you were here and now you’ve got someone new? Ridiculous!

“Oh sorry!” Wanda wasn’t looking where she was going and bumped into a hard body nearly knocking both her and the person over, Wanda gathered herself and looked up at the person and stood stunned “woah” she blushed and you laughed “are you okay honey? You seemed to be in quite a rush”

Wanda tore her eyes away from you and dusted herself free of the imaginary dust she had gathered “sorry sorry I’m just nearly late for class and apparently we’re getting a new teacher who’s strict on time so that means she’ll probably be a bitch and I don’t have time today”

She let out a big sigh and finally looked back up to you and you had a smile on your face “a bitch huh? Interesting, I’m pretty sure it’s just called good manners if you’re on time and ready”

She shrugged “sure and I get that but still it’s annoying when they’re like that”

You laughed “yeah I get it, I had a teacher when I was younger who was a bitch, she was hot though so I made sure I was on time, most of the time anyway, she’d keep me back after lessons and gave me a stern talking too” you winked and Wanda’s heart did a flip, why was this happening

“Oh yeah I guess but those things only happen in weird porn films and fan fictions”

You chuckled “sure, but I think the world of fantasy and fan fiction is so much better than the real world, anyway go on to your class, I hope the teacher isn’t a bitch like you say”

Wanda agreed “yeah me too, okay thanks I’ll maybe see you again”

“I think it’ll be sooner than you think”

Wanda shook her head, “unless you follow me, I don’t think I will” she laughed moving past you towards her classroom, what a coincidence, that’s where you were heading for too.

**************************************************

Wanda’s mouth hung open as the door opened and you stepped through walking to the desk and writing your name on the board behind you

“Oh my fucking god” Wanda whispered and her best friend Nat perked up from her half boredom nap “what’s up Maximoff?” She looked at you then back at Wanda and smiled wide “you like the teacher? Dude she’s old enough to be your mom”

Wanda slapped Nat on the arm “shut up Nat no she’s the woman I saw outside and told her I thought the new teacher would be a bitch, god she’s going to hate me”

Nat watched your eyes search for something and land on the distressed Wanda, you smiled and turned back to the board writing the objective down and introducing yourself and talking about what everyone would be doing today

“Wands I don’t think she’s mad at you, she’s just searched for you and smiled when she found you, you’re so going to have sex with a teacher this year and I’ve never been more proud” she wrapped Wanda into a bear hug and squeezed her hard, when she finally pulled away Wanda looked to the front seeing you sorting some papers out, you were very pretty, she thought

“Are you thinking about it?” Nat giggled and Wanda swatted her away “no, no I’m thinking about the clearly illegal age gap”

Nat scoffed “oh come off it, you’re 22 and she looks about 30 something, it’s not illegal wands”

Wanda shrugged “still feels wrong though”

“Okay sure Wanda” Nat ripped up some of the paper from her notebook, scrunched it up and threw it at your head as you turned to the board forcing you to turn around quickly “and who threw that? I didn’t know I was in a class with children”

Nat put her hand up and pointed to Wanda “it was Wanda professor, she said you looked like a bit- “Nat!!”

Wanda tried but you interjected “okay! Natalia thank you for being honest and Wanda please see me after class to talk about your behaviour” you turned back around to the board and Wanda glared at Nat with fury in her eyes

“I’m going to murder you in your sleep” she whispered and Nat just laughed “you won’t be able to kill me when your face deep in the professor”

“You’re disgusting” Wanda rolled her eyes and tried to focus on the lesson, why were you so attractive Jesus Christ, she couldn’t focus, god this was going to be long year.

*****************************************************

“Miss Maximoff don’t forget to stay behind” your voice echoed in the room and Wanda sat back down in her chair flipping Nat off as she left, the whole lesson Wanda felt like she couldn’t breathe, whenever you glanced to her her breath hitched again and her face turned the same colour as her hair.

When the room emptied and all that remained were you and Wanda, Wanda started feeling sick, what was gonna happen, she couldn’t believe it she’d definitely kill Nat later

“Wanda come to the desk please I can’t talk to you if you’re sat far away from me” your voice was stern like a police officer and Wanda just wanted to run away but she dragged herself to your desk

“So, what a start to lesson hmm? First you crashed into me in the hallway, indirectly call me a bitch and now you’ve thrown paper at me why? Because you wanted too?”

Wanda shook her head “no no no I didn’t throw the paper my friend Nat did then blamed it on me because she wanted me to stay behind!”

You quirked an eyebrow in question and Wanda blushed a deep red again at her outburst, but that didn’t bother you, students would yell at you all the time, it was comical sometimes “and why did she want you to stay back?”

Wanda stepped from foot to foot keeping her face towards the floor “Idunno”

She didn’t notice you step up and round the desk coming to stand in front of her, that was until your fingers held under her chin lifting her face up to look you in the eye “I want to be looked at when being spoken too Wanda now, tell me exactly why Natalia wanted you to stay behind”

Wanda couldn’t move, or maybe she didn’t want to move, maybe she wanted you to caress her whole face they way you were rubbing her chin in a soothing way forever, wait were you moving closer? Oh god your breath was on her cheek

“I’m waiting darling” your voice broke Wanda out of her small trance “o-oh er yeah she thinks you like me and was searching for me in class so then me staying behind means it would be a good thing….”

“Do you think I like you?” You whispered and Wanda’s breath hitched “erm”

“Actually don’t tell me, I already know the answer but I won’t push you, be a good girl and go to your next class okay?”

You let go of her chin and Wanda left the room faster than she wanted to admit and it made you smile “she’s adorable”

********************************************************

“Nat!” Wanda burst into her and Nat’s shared accommodation not noticing the scrunchie on the door so you were met with Maria hill straddling her friends waist both without shirts or bras on but to be fair she didn’t care at this point she just needed to tell Nat what happened

“Wanda! There’s a scrunchie on the door you know the rules!” Nat scrambled to get Maria and herself covered with some blankets

Wanda realised it was Maria and momentarily forgot about the intimate interaction between herself and you

“Wait Maria? I’ve seen you slap Nat a few times whenever she tried flirting with you what’s going on?”

The flustered woman held the blanket close to her chest “well Wanda that’s what happens when you get worn down and have sex at a house party, turns out Nat is good enough with her tongue to keep her around”

Nat had that stupid smug look on her face that Maria wanted to smack off of her “don’t be so smug Nat, when someone better comes along I’ll move on”

Nat faked gasped “oh nooo I’m devastated”

“Whatever, anyway Wanda don’t you have another class now?”

Wanda nodded “yeah but I couldn’t go I’m too stressed and upset and I need help!”

She slumped down onto her bed and Nat quickly jumped to her side, with a hoodie thrown to her by Maria

“Tell us red, tell your parents what happened” she rubbed Wanda’s shoulders in comfort and winked at Maria who just scoffed “I’m not anyone’s daddy thanks”

Nat stopped comforting Wanda for a second “woah woah, why would you be the daddy? Why aren’t I daddy?”

“Because you’re on your knees for me more than you are in classes so that makes me a daddy”

Nat blushed hard “hey but-

“Guys! Please I need to tell your guys what happened before I combust!”

Nat and Maria’s attention quickly went back to Wanda “okay sweetheart tell us, what happened with the new teacher”

Wanda nodded “okay, well I stayed behind and she made go to her desk to be close to her so she could talk to me and then I told her it was Nat being a bitch and wanting me to stay behind because you thought she liked me and then she held me chin and forced my head up to look at her while we talked because she said she didn’t like it when people didn’t look at her when talking then she got so close I could feel her breath on my face and then she asked if I liked her then she said she already knew the answer and sent me off to my lesson but I came straight here”

The two girls were silent, extremely unsure of what to say and Wanda got nervous “Nat? Nat say something please it’s your fault I’m in this mess”

Nat shrugged “Wands, she likes you! You’re so in, unless you felt uncomfortable because obviously that’s not good, did you feel uncomfortable? I wouldn’t but I know what you’re like”

Wanda didn’t answer, was she uncomfortable? No she didn’t think so

Maria came to sit on the opposite side of Wanda now wearing a hoodie too “how do you feel Wanda, like truly feel? If she did make you uncomfortable you could go to the dean and tell him about it, innocent flirting and such is fine but if it’s truly upsetting you-

Wanda shook her head “no no I’m not uncomfortable I’m just confused and stressed because what if she’s just being really really nice? Teachers are like that and then students get in trouble for it because we misread situations”

The three girls sat in silence for a while letting everything soak in, the silence was broken when Nat got a text message from the sorority she was in “hey Wanda we’re having a party tonight, maybe it’ll get your mind off professor hot for a while”

Wanda groaned laying back on her bed “I’m not big on partying you know that”

“Yeah but I think you need it tonight, plus no classes tomorrow it’s Saturday so it’s perfect!”

Wanda knew Nat wouldn’t let up and she didn’t mike letting her best friend down “alright fine”

Nat squealed in excitement “yay! I can’t wait to get you absolutely shitfaced drunk”

Maria rolled her eyes “I can’t believe I’m sleeping with you”

Nat shrugged “At least I’m in a sorority so I’m sorta popular”

“Thank god”

******************************************************

“There’s a sorority party tonight, perfect for a new professor to get to know everyone” Tony stark had taken you under his wing, in fact he insisted on it, you had no choice but he seemed alright and his wife was fun too so that was okay

“A party at a sorority? I’m not a spring chicken anymore Stark I can’t be seen hanging around students” you laughed but the man scoffed

“Let me tell you Y/n these guys don’t care if teachers go or not, me and pepper go every few months just to show our faces, plus pepper is amazing at beer pong, it’s a little hot actually”

Pepper slapped Tony on his shoulder to stop him talking “calm down cowboy don’t scare her off yet, but he is right, going to the party could be good, plus maybe you’ll have some fun with someone” Pepper winked

“Wouldn’t that be inappropriate Mrs stark?” You smirked and the woman just laughed “not at this party, there’s a few older sorority members that go, so you may have a chance”

Pepper offered you some chocolate which you took “actually there is someone I want to ask you about”

Tony’s ears pricked up and he slid into the chair next to you “oh? Please tell me everything, your first day and something’s already happened”

You waved him off “nothing big just, what is Wanda maximoff like in lessons? Is she shy?”

Pepper smiled “Wanda is a brilliant student, I think she’ll really excel, she is a little quiet though and it’s a shame because I think she has valid questions but she’ll only ask them after class or if her friend Nat asks for her, it’s her last year this year so maybe she’ll surprise us”

“She likes being involved in my practical experiments only because I’m so flamboyant so she doesn’t have much attention on her, why do you ask? Was she bad in your lesson? That would be exciting”

You shook your head “she wasn’t bad, Nat got her in trouble and I made her stay behind and we talked for a bit”

Pepper sensed you wanted to say more “go on Y/n”

“I know she likes me and it was adorable how she was so flustered about it”

Tony jumped up from his chair and high fived his wife “I knew Wanda was gay! You owe me $50”

Pepper shoved her husband and you both laughed when he fell over “don’t start Tony it was a silly bet I’m not paying anything to you”

“Wait you guys have bets on a student’s sexuality?”

“Doesn’t matter anyway you’re going to that party tonight and we’ll come with you, pack your party clothes”

Tony jumped up from the floor and dusted himself off “we’re going partying? Hell yeah I can bust out some dance moves tonight”

Pepper kissed him on the cheek and looked at him lovingly “if you dance at any point during the night I will divorce you and go and sleep with dean Coulson”

Tony was taken aback “oh, no dancing then got it”

“You guys are wild”

******************************************************

Taglist: @mathxa

Let me know if you want to be tagged

#marvel #wanda maximoff #mcu #wanda maximov #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #marvel au #marvel imagine #natasha romanov #Maria hill #blackhill #pepper potts #tony stark #A new professor #professor!y/n #student!wanda maximoff #college Wanda #college!wanda maximoff #marvel fic

218 notes · View notes

cece693 · 2 months ago

Text

No (Steve Rogers x GN! Reader)

I haven't been focusing on my asks (and I know I should) but this was just something I had to write about. Most Steve fics have a romantic plot, but what if I want to change that? No, I'm not killing anybody but saying no to marriage might be in Steve's book.

Summary: You loved Steve, but you weren't ready to make the big step in marrying him. Others don't understand or merely refuse to accept your reasoning.

tags: marriage proposal gone wrong, reader has their reasons, hurt Steve, Avengers meddling in things

The cozy glow of the living room bathed everything in warm hues, as if the universe itself cradled this moment. Steve Rogers stood before me, larger than life yet heartbreakingly human in the way he looked at me—with unyielding love that made my chest tighten. My heart thundered as he sank to one knee, his golden hair catching the light like a halo. His hand trembled slightly as he produced a small black box.

His smile was tender, adoring—the kind of smile you’d only see in fairy tales and classic romances.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he began, his voice steady but soft. “These past three years have been the best of my life, and that’s saying something for someone who’s lived as long as I have. You’ve given me a reason to keep going when everything else had faded. I love you. Will you do me the honor of becoming mine?”

The room fell silent. Too silent.

I didn’t need to turn around to know the Avengers were crowded against the door, holding their breath. My eyes dropped to the ring—a delicate, beautiful thing. So perfectly Steve. I could imagine him painstakingly choosing it, probably consulting Nat or Sam for advice. It was perfect. He was perfect.

And yet…

“Steve,” I whispered, my voice trembling as I struggled to form words. “I…I can’t.”

The silence turned suffocating. His smile faltered, and his bright blue eyes searched mine as though I’d just spoken a foreign language. “What?”

“I can’t say yes,” I said softly, my throat tightening around the words.

Before I could even attempt to explain, the door burst open, and the Avengers stormed in like a tidal wave of disbelief and judgment.

“Are you kidding me?” Tony’s voice was sharp, incredulous. “You rejected Steve Rogers? Captain America? What is wrong with you?”

“It’s not—” I tried, but Natasha’s icy glare stopped me in my tracks. Her expression was devoid of emotion, but the disappointment in her eyes cut deeper than words ever could. Even Thor, lovable Thor stood with his arms crossed, his brows furrowed, as though I’d committed some unspeakable crime.

“How could you?” Clint’s voice rang out next, loud and accusatory. “Do you even realize what it took for him to plan this? The time, the effort, the heart—and you just said no?”

“I didn’t mean to—” My voice broke, but they weren’t listening. Even Sam shook his head, muttering something about how I didn’t deserve Steve. I turned to him, desperate for support, for something. But Steve stayed silent. His shoulders slumped, his head bowed, his expression unreadable. He didn’t stop them. He didn’t defend me.

The weight of it all became too much.

“Enough!” I shouted, my voice cracking as I stood. The room fell silent, all eyes on me, but I didn’t care. Tears burned in my eyes as I glared at them. “You didn’t even let me explain! You’re all so quick to judge, to attack me, without even asking why I said no. Do you think I don’t love him? That I don’t care about him? You’re wrong.”

I turned on my heel, my voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “I said no because I’m not ready—not because I don’t love him, but because I do. But clearly, none of you care to understand that.”

Without another word, I stormed out of the room, ignoring their calls after me. My chest felt like it was caving in, the weight of their disappointment and Steve’s silence pressing down on me until I couldn’t breathe. I didn’t know where I was going, but I needed to get away.

Hours later, I sat on a bench at the edge of a quiet park, the cold night air biting at my skin. My hands were trembling, and I didn’t know if it was from the chill or the lingering hurt.

“Mind if I sit?”

I looked up to see Steve standing there, his expression soft but cautious. His voice was gentle, careful, as if he were afraid of saying the wrong thing. I nodded wordlessly, and he took a seat beside me. For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence stretching between us. The stillness gnawed at me until I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Why are you here, Steve?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“To listen,” he said simply. His blue eyes, tired but sincere, locked onto mine. “I should’ve done that earlier.”

I swallowed hard, my chest tightening again. “You didn’t stop them,” I said, my voice breaking slightly. “You let them say all those horrible things about me, and you didn’t stop them.”

His face fell, and he reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing his hand over mine. “I know,” he said softly. “And I'm sorry. I froze. I didn’t know how to handle it. But I don’t blame you for saying no. I could never blame you for that. I just…I was surprised.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I shook my head. “I didn’t say no because I don’t love you, Steve. I love you so much that it hurts. You’re everything, Steve. You’re kind and patient and wonderful. But this…this is forever. And I need to know I’m the best version of myself before I make that promise to you.”

His eyes softened, though the pain lingered in the corners. “I thought…after everything we’ve been through—”

“Exactly,” I cut him off gently, my voice breaking. “After everything we’ve been through, I don’t want to rush into this and risk us falling apart. I want us to last, Steve. And I need to work through my own fears and doubts to make sure I’m ready for that kind of commitment.”

His hand tightened around mine, grounding me. “Thank you for explaining things. And I respect your decision; I'll wait, as long as it takes, until you're ready to say yes."

I looked up at him, the sincerity in his eyes breaking through the wall of guilt and fear I’d built around myself. “You’re not mad?”

Steve shook his head, offering me a small, tender smile. “No. I love you too much to be mad. I just…I needed to understand. And now I do.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I leaned into him, letting him wrap his arms around me. For the first time that night, I felt like I could breathe again.

“Thank you,” I whispered. “For listening. For understanding.”

“Always.”

75 notes · View notes

mostly-marvel-musings · 10 months ago

Text

Where do we go from here - Part 1

Summary: Two funerals. Two couples. A tragedy like no other. And one big secret.

A/N: Written for @fandom-free-bingo Here’s something different, I hope you enjoy it. Leave a comment, heart and reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, F! Reader x Rhodey, Tony Stark x Reader (eventually)

Warning: 18+ angst, minors DNI, death, infidelity, smoking, mentions of self-harm and suicide. Hurt comfort.

Word count: 2764

Square filled: We deserve much better than we’ve had

Free Fandom Bingo Masterlist

Empty.

That’s how you felt. Empty and utterly exhausted. Your eyes were dried and throat scratchy from all the crying, body aching with pain and mind a foggy haze. Forty eight hours it had been since you received the news of the car crash.

James Rhodes. Your husband. Dead.

Pepper Potts. Your best friend. Dead.

You received a call from the hospital while you were wrapping James’ birthday present. A birthday that never arrived. Instead a funeral did. Two consecutive ones. You hadn’t felt grief like this ever.

The service ended, you shook hands and hugged countless people, nodding along as they offered condolences, wanting nothing more than to head home, crash in your bed and never wake up. But you couldn’t. There was another funeral you had to attend, your best friend Pepper’s, you didn’t know if you could go through it all again.

But you had to.

A couple of moments later, you managed to slip away and found yourself sitting on a bench overlooking the graves. The day was actually sunny and bright, wildflowers littered along the gravestones as a gentle breeze blew. What a day for a funeral, you thought sadly.

Not long after you sat, you smelled cigarette smoke in the air before Tony Stark took a seat next to you. Tony was one of your closest family friends, well, he was your husband’s best friend. They practically grew up together, went to school, university and eventually ended up buying houses close to each other too. By way of default, when Pepper and him got married, it brought the four of you closer. She was your best friend and James was his.

It was perfect.

Your mind went back to the last dinner the four of you had at your place, it was only three days ago. Just a day before the accident.

“Here’s to celebrating milestones in friendships!”

James raised his whiskey glass, making you, Tony and Pepper follow suit before you clinked them together with warm smiles. You had cooked a nice dinner to celebrate a year of moving into this home you shared with your loving husband. It may as well have been just an excuse to get together with your friends, which happened too often.

“Thank you for dinner, Y/N. It was delicious. And the blueberry pie too! It is Tony’s favorite.” Pepper announced, making you smile at her husband who returned it, albeit reluctantly. There was something about the way he looked at you, it made you nervous, not in a bad way, per se. It was like he could stare into soul.

“It’s Y/N’s favorite as well.” James chimed in, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

While you cleaned up in the kitchen, Pepper coaxed James to let her take the new SUV out for a spin. She had been trying to persuade Tony to get the same model but apparently he wasn’t too keen on letting his Audi R8 go.

“You think I could sneak in an extra piece of pie?” Tony’s voice took you by surprise as he entered the kitchen.

“Oh! I thought you went along with James and Pep?”

“I mean it was either a piece of pie or Pepper yapping my ear off about how my R8 isn’t exactly ‘fit to be a family car’.” he shrugged, making you chuckle as you took out the remaining pie from the fridge and cut him another slice.

You were suddenly aware of your heartbeat as Tony leaned over to grab the plate from you, the close proximity unfamiliarly welcoming. His fingers grazed over yours ever so lightly, leaving their presence to linger.

What was even going on?

Tony was a good-looking man, there wasn’t a question. He had a handsome face with an impeccably maintained beard that only seemed to suit him best. And his eyes. A light brew of your favorite coffee, the brown doe eyes held as much kindness as they held self assurance. Deep down, you felt an attraction towards the man. It was harmless, wasn’t it?

Only time would tell.

“Y/N?” Tony’s fingers snapped you back to reality, making you realize he had asked you a question.

“Yeah?”

“You went into one of your zones again, didn’t you?” He smiled, taking a bite of the pie and letting out a moan of delight.

“Sorry. One of my zones?”

“Yeah. Your mind tends to wander off when the conversation isn’t interesting for you. I’ve observed.” He wasn’t wrong. The fact that he noticed and pointed it out made your cheeks flush.

“Sorry about that. It’s nothing really. I was just thinking about the time we first got together. I—I mean the four of us.”

“Right. It was a long time ago, wasn’t it?”

“It was at one of your famous parties. I walked in looking to have a good time, you and I had one too many whiskies and the next thing I know Pepper dragged you back to your house and James ended up dropping me home. And the rest is history.”

“The rest is history.” Tony repeated with a small chuckle as memories of that evening played out in his head.

“Sometimes I wonder if…um. Nevermind.” He shrugged, cutting his sentence short leaving you to frown.

“If what? Go on.”

You saw him take in a deep breath, release it slowly before facing you fully after he kept the plate away.

“I wonder if the whole opposites attract thing truly worked out for us. Or we just settled because it was obvious.”

Tony’s words stuck with you long after that night was over. As did the look he gave you. It had longing and hints of regret. Something that reflected in your eyes as well.

You must’ve been crying again because Tony reached out to wipe tears that had escaped, offering you a cigarette which you accepted, filling your lungs with smoke and closing your eyes.

“You know, I spent half of yesterday just staring at my bottle of sleeping pills, wondering if it would hurt less if I just took them.” you murmured, staring into the distance. The void inside your chest seemed perpetual and only growing, there was no relief, no end to this pain.

Tony remained silent, he probably had the same thoughts running through his mind. But you couldn’t tell. He slid closer, placing his arm over the backrest of the bench.

“I need to speak to you about the accident, Y/N. I found out some things that you have the right to know too.” his brown eyes bore into yours, letting you know the urgency in his voice.

“Tell me now.” Shaking his head, Tony stubbed his cigarette and got up.

“Tomorrow. Come home and we’ll talk.”

“But it’s Pepper’s funeral–”

“I couldn’t care less. Trust me. Tomorrow.”

You were taken aback, watching him walk towards his car before driving off while you sat on the bench, a mess of complex emotions.

Your right foot was bouncing against the sofa as you waited for Tony, his house felt oddly quiet and dark now that Pepper was no longer around. Safe to say your own home wasn’t exactly in the best condition either. You couldn’t remember the last time you cleaned, or had a proper meal.

He returned with a familiar looking overnight bag, some papers and a phone. As he laid them out in front of you, a pit began forming in your stomach. This couldn’t be what you were thinking it could be. It couldn’t.

“This is what they recovered from the accident. The bag was in the trunk, the phone was found a few feet away and this.”

He handed you the papers first, it looked like a confirmation of a hotel booking, a hotel located just on the outskirts of the town. It was booked under James Rhodes. Why would he check into a hotel when he was supposed to be out of town for a conference?

“I don’t understand..” you trailed off, not really wanting to know the details but Tony handed you the phone next. What you read, broke your heart into a million pieces. The doubts that you tried to push down resurfaced and had materialized right in front of your eyes.

They were chats. Chats between Pepper and James. Your husband and Tony’s wife.

Your eyes burned but no tears came, you felt betrayed, hurt and angry like you hadn’t ever. It was months and months of private conversations between them, you hadn’t even noticed Pepper’s name saved with a heart emoji on James’s phone, right below was your last message to him, checking up on him to see if he reached safely.

You turned to look at Tony who sat with his arms crossed, jaw ticking and hands balled up against his sides. He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head before getting up to stand in front of the window that overlooked their huge backyard.

“Why didn’t–um, why didn’t the cops bring this to me?” you found your voice again but barely recognized it. It was hoarse from lack of use and weak, fearful of what you’d hear next.

“I asked them not to,” he replied quietly.

“Why?”

“Why? Seriously? You think you would’ve handled it well, Y/N? Given the things you said to me, I would be arranging for a third funeral right about now!” Tony didn’t mean to yell, but he did, because he shared your hurt and pain. He immediately regretted it watching you crumble on the floor, clutching the phone to your chest as you sobbed.

Dropping on his knees, he gathered you in his arms and let you cry, your tears soaked his shirt as you wept, body racking in pain while he held you. Your breath was still uneven but your tears eventually subsided, leaving behind a million questions.

“It had been going on for longer than a year, Y/N.” as if reading your mind, Tony mumbled, his voice muffled against your hair.

“I don’t want to believe it, Tony.”

He hugged you tighter, providing you the comfort you needed, wanted even, his presence grounded you, his scent calmed you.

“You’re staying here.” he declared once you separated, wiping tears from your cheeks and making you look up at him.

“I–I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. And you’re going to. You’re hurting, Y/N. We both are. I don’t think I could live with myself with you gone as well. I can’t.” Tony whispered, resting his forehead against yours, pleading you to stay.

He was right. You couldn’t bear the thought of returning to that house which you shared with James, your husband, also the man who had been cheating on you with your best friend for months. Given a choice, you would probably set it on fire to bury all the memories and destroy them. It wasn’t your happy home anymore.

“Will you stay?”

You nodded as he helped you back up, walking you up the stairs that led to the bedrooms.

“Wait, I can’t stay in the–”

“The guest bedroom is on your left. I’ve been sleeping there. I’ll take the other one. I can’t sleep in our bedroom either.” Tony’s lips were pressed in a thin line, fingers trembling before he hid them in his pockets.

Of course. It was hard for him too. You wondered if he had the same thoughts of burning the house down. You two were in the same boat, one that was drowning in a sea of sorrow, betrayal and tainted memories.

And now all you had was each other.

Moonlight streamed through the windows as you lay awake, staring at the ceiling for hours, sleep had evaded you. Checking the clock, it stated it was way past midnight, you turned to your side to attempt a small nap if your mind allowed; however a dull crash fell on your ears from downstairs, making you jump out of bed and scramble to the source.

It was Tony.

Eyes brimmed with tears, a half empty bottle of whiskey sitting atop the kitchen counter and shards of broken glass on the floor. As you stepped closer, you saw a broken picture frame as well, one that housed Tony and Pepper’s wedding day photo, both wide eyed and grinning ear to ear, now with a huge crack along the surface.

“Tony?” you treaded carefully, your voice barely over a whisper as you placed your hand on his shoulder.

His tense muscles relaxed under your touch, a sigh leaving his lips.

“She took a pregnancy test, Y/N.” he murmured so quietly you almost missed it. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you heard him. You knew Tony and Pep had been trying for a kid for a while now, Tony wanted a child more than anything.

“Oh my God.” You croaked, rubbing his back in attempts to comfort him as you saw his eyes brimming with unshed tears, your heart breaking for him.

“Now I can’t even know if it was mine. She was fucking pregnant!” He smashed the glass of whiskey on the opposite wall, the two of you watching the liquid stream down in little rivulets, joining the shattered glass.

Tony’s breaths were coming in erratic and shallow, his eyes unfocused, he was struggling to stand upright.

“Tony hey! Look at me, come on. Let’s get you over here.” You supported him until he was sitting on the barstool while you took a seat opposite him. Bringing your hands up to cup his face, you made him look into your eyes.

“Breathe for me, please. It’s okay.”

You sounded unsure but you hoped it was helping him, he was trying his level best to focus on your words but it was hard. He could feel his heartbeat in his ears, all other voices drowning as sweat lined on his forehead.

“Tony. Come on. I know you can do this. Focus. Just breathe.” You placed one of his hands on your chest, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, waiting for him to follow.

It took a few beats but eventually you succeeded in getting him back to normal. He squeezed your hand gratefully, nodding his head to let you know he was alright. You grabbed him a water before pouring yourself a glass of whiskey, neither of you bothering to clean up the mess in the kitchen.

You sat together in silence, pondering over what your lives had become in a span of a week. The alcohol definitely helped, numbed your pain and made you drowsy.

The sun was starting to rise outside, a dull, gray light filtering through the windows letting you know it was dawn. The word exhausted seemed to be synonymous with your daily routine, it was all you ever felt. You took your empty glass and were heading for the sink when Tony grabbed your wrist and stopped you.

“Where are you going?” The uncertainty in his eyes tugged at your heartstrings.

“Just to keep this. Tony, I’m right here.” You reassured the man who followed you into the kitchen, as if to make sure you wouldn’t disappear all of a sudden.

“Will you leave me?” He whispered shakily.

This wasn’t a side of Tony you had ever seen. You were used to the confident, sassy man who joked around and made you laugh.

“I can’t deal with the pain alone. Stay. Please. You’re all I have, Y/N.”

There wasn’t a muscle in your body that protested, not that you wanted to anyways. Laying his head against your chest, he hugged you, holding onto you with all his might.

“Okay, I’ll stay. I’ll stay as long as you need.”

“You will?”

He felt you nod as your fingers carded through his hair, calming his nerves and reassuring him of your presence. He didn’t know how long it would take for you both to recover, but as long as you were with him and he with you, he felt some semblance of hope. That eventually everything could be okay.

“Of course. You’re all I have too.”

#fandom free bingo #tony stark x reader #tony stark angst #tony stark x pepper potts #james rhodes x reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark #tony stark imagine #tony stark one shot #james rhodes #pepper potts #the stark squad #mostly marvel musings #marvel fanfiction #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you

189 notes · View notes

sycamorelibrary754 · 9 months ago

Text

The Doting Tree

Summary: During your visit to your grandmother at her assisted living community, you learn that Bucky has been regularly volunteering there as a part of his therapy sessions with Dr. Raynor.

Pairings: Bucky x Platonic reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: None

A/N: Who doesn't want to see Bucky healing?

"Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Stark requests your presence in his lab," Friday announced, pulling you out of your intense focus.

"Can it wait, FRIDAY? I'm swamped with overdue mission reports here," you replied, shuffling through the stack of papers on your desk.

“Mr. Stark says you have a phone call,” FRIDAY responded.

“A phone call?” you asked, puzzled, picking up your phone. “No, I don't.”

“In his lab, Ms. Y/L/N,” FRIDAY said.

"Okay,” you said as you rubbed your tired eyes. “Tell him I'm on my way.”

Walking into Tony's lab, you found the genius hunched over his desk, tinkering with one of his holographic interfaces. His phone was propped between his ear and shoulder.

“Really? I had no idea,” Tony said with a surprised look. “Y/N is so at ease on the motorcycle you would never know she didn't learn to ride a two-wheeler until she was nine.”

Your eyes widened. "Oh my God. Who are you talking to?"

"One moment, ma'am," Tony said before placing the phone against his chest.

"It’s your grandmother," Tony said. "She called the front desk trying to reach you, and they patched her through to me."

"What? Why didn't they call me?" you said, reaching for the phone as Tony pulled it away.

"Because this is way more fun," Tony smirked.

"Gimme the phone!" You snapped.

Tony placed a hand on your forehead to hold you at arm's length like an annoying older brother while putting the phone back to his ear.

"Y/G/N, your granddaughter just walked in. So, I’m going to pass you over to her," Tony said. "No, don't be silly. It's no problem. I enjoyed talking with you, too. Feel free to call back anytime. My pleasure, ma'am. Bye-bye."

You sighed as the billionaire finally handed over his phone, walking back toward the pane-glass windows for some privacy.

"Hi, Grandma," you chirped.

"Hello, dear, so good to hear your voice," your grandmother said.

"How did you end up on the phone with Mr. Stark?" you asked.

"I accidentally deleted your cell phone number, but your mom has your workplace down on this list she made, so I called information and then was connected to your lovely boss," your grandma explained.

"Ah, I see. Well, he’s not technically my boss, more like an annoying man-child who pays for everything," Smirking back at Tony and sticking your tongue out.

Your grandma asked, 'What is this I hear about you riding a motorcycle?”

"Oh, no need to worry. I’m a professional, and it's part of my job," you reassured her.

"Still," your grandma began. "I hope you're wearing a helmet."

"Always, Grandma, don't worry,” you fibbed. “So, how are you?” Doing your best to shift the conversation away from your dangerous life as an Avenger.

"I’m good, sweetheart. I'm just wondering when you're going to visit me. It's been a while since I’ve seen you,” your grandma asked.

Your heart broke at her words. Your grandma lives in an assisted living community near the compound called The Doting Tree. You did your best to see her often, but the unpredictable nature of your work made regular visits difficult.

“I know; I’m sorry. Things have been hectic lately, and I just got home from a work trip a few days ago. How about I stop by tomorrow around noon?" you asked.

“That would be great," she exclaimed. "See you then!"

"Okay, bye," you said, hanging up Tony’s phone.

You gave Tony his phone back, and he handed you a hundred-dollar bill in exchange.

“What's this for?” you asked.

“I may be an annoying man-child, but even I know you treat Grandma like a queen,” Tony quipped with a wink.

*^~^*

The following day, you joined the rest of the team for breakfast. Wanda had made her special chocolate chip pancakes and fresh orange juice for everyone. You sat beside Bucky and began squeezing Maple syrup over your pancakes.

Pepper set a plate in front of Morgan and sat beside Tony. "So, what's everyone got lined up for today?"

"Nat and I are getting the recruits up to speed," Steve replied, digging into his pancakes.

“That sounds interesting,” Pepper said.

"It would be interesting if they paid attention this time," Nat remarked, downing the last of her orange juice.

"I always paid attention," you declared confidently.

"Sure, Y/N, you ran those extra laps after training at Nat’s request just for fun," Maria teased.

"Yelena and I are off to an advanced obedience class with Lucky and Fanny," Kate said. "This week, it's all about the army crawling!"

"By the end of the training, they'll be more mission-ready than your little recruits, Natasha," Yelena teased as she cut into her pancakes.

Nat leaned over and flicked her sister's arm.

"Ow, son of a—"

"Language!" Steve interjected.

Yelena was about to retort, but then she caught Morgan's smile and shut her mouth.

"I’m supposed to meet with Secretary Ross, but I'd much rather catch the new Godzilla vs. Kong movie. Anyone up for it?" Rhodes suggested.

"I'm in!" Sam exclaimed. "How about you, Buck?"

"Can't make it; I'm tied up," Bucky replied, sipping his orange juice.

“Come on, man, how often do we blend in with the crowd?" Sam quipped.

"I can't, Sam," Bucky replied with a shrug.

"Your loss," Sam retorted. "What about you, Y/N?"

"I'd love to, but I promised my grandma a visit," you replied.

"That's thoughtful of you, Y/N," Wanda chimed in.

"Oh, that reminds me, guess who didn't learn to ride a bike until they were nine?" Tony butted in enthusiastically.

You rolled your eyes. “And that's my cue to leave," you said, getting up. "Catch you all later.”

*^~^*

You made great use of Tony's money by treating your grandma to a lovely bouquet of roses and a box of her favorite chocolates. When you arrived at The Doting Tree, the scent of Fabuloso greeted you, mixing with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee from the communal area. Passing through the lobby, you exchanged a warm smile and a wave with Joan, the friendly receptionist stationed behind the oak desk.

You knocked eagerly on the door of room 508, and the sound of your grandmother's footsteps grew louder before she swung open the door.

"Y/N!" she exclaimed.

"Hey, grandma," you greeted her with a smile. "These are for you," you said, handing her the roses and chocolates.

"Oh, you didn't have to, sweetheart," she replied, taking her gifts.

You hugged her and were instantly transported back to his childhood. Her warm embrace was a comfort you didn't know you were missing.

"Please, come on in, Y/N," she said as she broke the hug.

As your grandma whipped up a delightful batch of creamy, rich hot chocolate, the cozy aroma filled the room, enveloping you in warmth and comfort. You lost track of time, immersed in lively conversations and shared memories as you leisurely walked down memory lane. She asked about your work, and you carefully selected the most positive stories to share: the most recent Stark Gala and the Avengers community outreach efforts. You wouldn't dream of telling her about the near miss on your last mission when Nat's impressive scissor-leg neck grab saved you from a potentially fatal situation.

I can't believe how quickly time has flown by," your grandma exclaimed, glancing at the clock. "Movie night starts downstairs in fifteen minutes."

"Oh, in that case, I'll leave you to get ready," you replied, getting up.

"Nonsense," she insisted. "I'd love for you to join me. Tonight is Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, a classic from the Golden Age of Hollywood."

You quickly checked your phone and were relieved to see no missed calls or texts from Fury, Maria, or Steve.

"Great, I've never seen it, and I’m free for the rest of the day," you said.

"Wonderful, let’s go," your grandma replied.

*^~^*

When you and your grandmother arrived in the small community theater, the Doting Tree staff handed out popcorn and queued up the movie. You followed your grandma to two empty seats near the end of the row.

Hi, Y/G/N, I was hoping to see you here tonight," the brunette woman with half glasses beside her confessed.

"I wouldn't have missed this for anything. You know Jimmy Stewart is my favorite!" your grandma proclaimed. "Oh, Betty, this is my granddaughter Y/N, she's one of those Avengers!" she proudly introduced.

You felt slightly embarrassed by the attention but extended your hand to Betty. "Hi, Betty. It's great to meet you."

"It's lovely to meet you, dear. Y/G/N has told me so much about you!" Betty said.

"All good, I hope?" you joked.

"Of course. I don't know how you all do it, but thank you for everything you've done."

"It's my honor, ma'am,” you said.

"Excuse me?" a man in a sweater vest behind you said, catching your attention. "I couldn't help but overhear. You mentioned you're one of the Avengers?"

"That's right," you replied.

"Do you happen to know James? He's one of our volunteers. My buddy Walter swears he's an Avenger."

"James?" you asked, puzzled. "We don't have anyone named—"

"Alright, folks," a familiar voice interrupted.

"Bucky," you whispered to yourself in surprise.

Your friend stood at the front of the room, looking effortlessly stylish in a casual navy crew neck shirt, perfectly fitted jeans, and trendy sneakers. His beaming smile transformed his entire appearance, making him almost unrecognizable.

"Tonight's movie is one of my favorites, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington," Bucky announced, clapping his hands together. "Jimmy Stewart was one of my favorite actors when I was a kid."

"Not to mention Jean Arthur!" someone shouted from the back row, and the room erupted in laughter.

“Alright, Stacy, can you turn off the lights, please?” Bucky asked one of the staff members.

As the idealistic young Jefferson Smith was appointed to the United States Senate, your attention continually drifted to Bucky. You observed as he quietly passed a box of Nestle crunch bites down the row to one of the residents and whispered something to the woman beside him, who laughed in response.

*^~^*

When the credits rolled, and the lights came on in the theater, you lingered at the back of the room while your grandmother caught up with her friends. Perhaps it was the spy-like instincts that Natasha had instilled in you, but you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You were captivated by the transformation in his demeanor. The man who once seemed only to wear a scowl now appeared happier than you had ever seen him.

You walked over slowly as he was engrossed in conversation with a man you recognized as Richard Swanson. According to Joan, he was one of The Doting Tree’s oldest residents in time and age. Tall and slender, with a confident posture that hinted at a lifetime of discipline and care, he still boasted a thick mane of hair that belied his age. The strands, once a rich chestnut, now shimmered with a distinguished silver hue, the only overt sign of the passing years.

"What unit were you in, Barnes?" Mr. Swanson asked.

"107th Infantry Regiment, sir," Bucky replied.

"No kidding?” said Mr. Swanson. “I was in the 103rd."

"I remember that regiment," Bucky said, snapping his fingers. "You were guarding the Trisssana Bridge, right?"

"That's right," Mr. Swanson replied. “My cousin was in the 107th Regiment. Maybe you knew him? Tim Dugan.”

"Wow," Bucky sighed, his voice trailing off as he paused to reflect. "Tim Dugan. I haven't heard that name in almost 80 years," Bucky said, his eyes distant with memories. "I did know him. He was a good man," Bucky reminisced, a hint of wistfulness in his voice.

He was indeed," Mr. Swanson sighed, his tired eyes reflecting the long day he had endured. The elderly gentleman checked his antique pocket watch. "I've got to get going. It's almost past my bedtime," he chuckled softly as he patted Bucky on the shoulder with a sense of fondness. "See you next time, Barnes."

"See you, Mr. Swanson," Buck called out, his voice carrying a tinge of warmth and respect.

"Bucky?" you said softly, careful not to startle him as you approached.

He turned at the sound of your voice, his eyes meeting yours with surprise. "Y/N? What are you doing here? I thought you were visiting your grandmother today?"

"I am; she lives here," you explained, a gentle smile gracing your lips.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your curiosity piqued.

Bucky took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, the weight of his thoughts evident in the furrow of his brow. "Alright, look,” running his hand through his hair nervously. “Dr. Raynor thought it would be good for me to volunteer here. Spend some time with people from my generation," he said. "I resisted at first, but now..." he paused, looking around at the bustling activity of the assisted living community. "It's nice.”

"That's awesome, Buck. It's clear that the residents appreciate having you around, but why didn't you mention it to us?" You inquired.

"I just didn't want to deal with the inevitable jokes and questions from everyone," he explained.

"Oh, come on, Bucky. It wouldn't have been that bad. They would have been supportive," you reassured.

"After you left, Tony told the bike story and bought you a kid’s bicycle as a joke," Bucky deadpanned.

"Jackass," you remarked dryly.

"See," Bucky declared.

"But a supportive jackass, Buck. We all give each other shit, but at the end of the day, we're a family," you insisted. "Everyone would get it."

"Maybe," he mused. "When I'm here, I'm not an Avenger, The Winter Soldier, The White Wolf. Hell, I’m not even Bucky."

"I've noticed that, James," you said with a smirk.

Before he could respond, your grandma and her friend Betty strolled over to where you were standing.

“James, I just had to tell you how much I enjoyed tonight's movie. You have impeccable taste,” Betty said, touching his metal arm.

“Thanks a lot,” Bucky replied.

“Will you join us for our knitting class next week?” she asked eagerly.

“Work can be unpredictable, but I'm planning on it,” he responded.

“Wonderful!” Betty exclaimed. “I've been knitting a scarf for you, honey.”

Bucky blushed. “Oh, thank you. I can't wait to see it.”

"I see you’ve met James, Y/N,” your grandma said. “We’ve so enjoyed having him here the last few months.”

“Oh,” you said, looking between Bucky and your grandmother. “Yeah, I just had to come up and tell him how much I loved the movie, too.”

“Right,” Bucky said. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Well, I’m feeling a bit tuckered out, Y/N,” your grandmother said. I think I'll call it a night.”

“Okay,” you said. “I'll walk you back to your room.”

“Okay, goodnight, James,” your grandmother said.

“Goodnight, Y/G/N,” Bucky replied.

You turned back toward him before following your grandma out of the room and whispered, “Don’t leave. I'll be down in a few minutes.”

Bucky nodded in agreement.

*^~^*

As you stepped off the elevator and entered the lobby, the warm glow of the chandeliers illuminated the spacious communal room. Your eyes scanned the area, searching for Bucky. After a moment, you spotted him sitting on the plush sofa, engrossed in a copy of Lord of the Rings, which he had plucked from the nearby shelf.

Sitting beside him, you couldn't help but ask, "So, what do people think James does for a living?"

With a half-smile, he replied, "Well, those who don't know who I am think I’m a mechanic at that garage on Wilshire."

The image of Bucky as a mechanic made you chuckle, and you leaned in to hear more.

"The ones who do, like Mr. Swanson, don't give a damn about who I am or who I‘ve been," he continued, returning the book to the shelf. "All they care about is living each day to the fullest."

As you silently nodded, you reflected on his words, feeling the weight of the conversation settle in. "I understand, Buck," you said, patting his thigh. "I'm glad you're finding fulfillment here, and you can trust me to keep this between us."

"Thank you," he sighed, a sense of relief in his voice.

"Let’s go home," Bucky said, a hint of determination in his tone.

As you both said goodbye to Joan in the lobby, you stepped out into the refreshing early evening breeze.

"Alright, see you at home," you said, heading towards the bus stop.

"You took the bus here?" Bucky inquired.

"Yeah, just didn't feel like driving today," you replied.

“Want a ride? I've got Nat's motorcycle," he offered, nodding towards the bike.

You arched an eyebrow, "Does she know you have it?" You knew Natasha didn't just lend her bike to anyone. You had learned that the hard way during one of your early missions together.

"Yep, she allows me to borrow the motorcycle in exchange for helping with recruit training," Bucky explained as he slipped on his leather jacket.

"Alright, I'll take your word for it," you agreed.

As you were getting ready to hop on the back of the motorcycle, you spotted the extra helmet hanging on the back.

“Really?” Bucky quipped. “You never wear a helmet out in the field.”

“I know,” glancing back at The Doting Tree, “I just want to keep a promise to my grandmother,” you said with a smirk.

“Good call,” he replied with a grin.

You fastened the helmet and hopped on the back of the bike, wrapping your arms around Bucky’s waist. With a twist of the throttle, the bike roared to life as Bucky revved up the engine. Together, you both zoomed out of the parking lot, heading back toward the compound with a newfound sense of camaraderie and understanding.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #mcu #the avengers #fluff #natasha romanoff #tony stark #yelena boleva #steve rogers #maria hill #wanda maximoff #kate bishop #sam wilson #james rhodes #pepper potts #morgan stark

177 notes · View notes

literaryavenger · 1 year ago

Text

New Year's Eve

Summary: A game of two truths and a lie reveals to the team a fact about the you that Bucky can’t seem to stop thinking about.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader

Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language 'cause why not. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny. Mutual pining, idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts.

Word Count: 3.2K

A/N: Happy New Year's Eve! Thanks for all the messages when I was sick, I'm finally feeling better and I'm negative for Covid! I really wanted to post something for New Year's Eve and this came from a fever dream I had when I was sick, lol. I hope it's any good and someone enjoys it! A particular thank you to @ordelixx for helping me with this story!💘I've only started posting here about a month and a half but I'm really enjoying it and feeling more and more comfortable in my writing. I hope I'm also getting better at it. Anyway, I have big plans for the New Year that I hope you'll enjoy! This year hasn't been great for me, but I'm planning on working harder than ever to make sure the next one is a year I can be proud of. I hope you guys have a nice last day of 2023 and an amazing start of 2024! Love you all.💘

Masterlist

“Ok, your turn, Kill Bill. Two truths and a lie, go.” Tony says, referring to the fact that you fight with swords, making you roll your eyes before you join in on the laughter.

“Ok, uhm...” you try not to look at anyone so you don’t give away the answer “I have a teddy bear that I sleep with, I have bungee jumped from the top of the tower and I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

You look back up to the room and wait for their guesses.

It’s a Friday night and the people that remained in the Tower for the holidays decided to have a little game night.

Every year the same people stay around, having nowhere in particular to go, and spend Christmas together.

Clint and Scott usually spend this time with their families, this year Thor decided to go to New Asgard with Bruce and Loki to visit Val and Korg, and Peter decided to spend it with aunt May and Happy.

You usually alternate between going to visit your family and staying in the tower each year, and this one was your turn to go to your first home.

You came back the day after Christmas, never being one to miss Tony’s New Year’s Eve party that’s gonna happen in two days now.

“Well, we know she has a teddy bear.” Wanda says.

“Do we know that?” Tony turns to you, narrowing his eyes. “Do you have one?”

“Yes, she does, we’ve seen it” Natasha answers for you while you glance at Bucky, praying he doesn’t put together that they’re talking about the teddy bear he gifted you for Valentine’s Day this year along with flowers.

Natasha and Wanda were more happy than you when you told them, sustaining that he did it because he liked you until you pointed out that he gave flowers to them too, because he’s sweet and a gentleman and that’s just who he is.

They wouldn’t let up on the fact that neither of them got a teddy bear though, and you would have agreed with them but Bucky never really did anything else about it so you decided to let it go and not read too much into it.

You're brought back to the present by Tony.

“Ok, so she has one. Then it’s gotta be the New Year’s kiss, everyone has had one at least once in their life,” he was looking at your reaction very closely while talking, but you did your best to keep an easy smile and not give anything away.

“Even Captain Virgin over there had one last year.” he adds vaguely waving towards Steve’s general direction.

You crack at the nickname and at the undignified sound Steve made while blushing and glancing at Nat that shared that kiss with him.

“Tony, there’s no way that she bungee jumped from the roof without us knowing, that’s gotta be the lie.” Sam interjects, also watching you closely for any signs of a reaction that you manage not to give.

“Alright, just take your guesses, people.” You say to the group.

“New Year’s Kiss.” Tony all but yelled, Natasha and Wanda agreeing with him.

“Bungee jump.” Sam says and Steve and Bucky agree, then they all seem to hold their breath as they wait for your answer.

It’s not a surprise that even these stupid little games cause a lot of competition amongst the team.

“Neither.”-you finally said and let out a laugh when they all groan in annoyance while taking their shots for guessing wrong.

“WAIT- you bungee jumped off the ROOF? When?!” Steve seems more concerned than anything.

“Well, you know a few months ago when we happened to all be on different missions at the same time?” They nod, not knowing where you're going with this “Clint and I came back first from ours, we were bored and there was no one around to stop us from doing anything stupid so…” you trail off, shrugging while laughing.

Steve looks shocked, Sam is laughing his ass off while Tony immediately goes to look for the security footage.

They all cheered while watching you throw yourself off the roof, Clint's yells and laughter could be heard, and then Steve shakes his head while joining you in the laughter when you see Clint take his turn and scream like a little girl while you fall to the ground laughing on the video.

Once you all composed yourselves, Tony pokes Wanda’s arm “I thought you said she had a teddy bear.” he's looking at her like she brought him on a treasure hunt and then betrayed him and left him for dead on a deserted island.

“She does! She got it from-” you interrupt her before she can finish the sentence, blushing a little and avoiding Bucky’s eyes.

“I do have a teddy bear, I just don’t sleep with it.” you say, shrugging.

“Oh, come on, that’s cheating!” Natasha whines.

“It’s really not, just because I do have one it doesn’t mean I didn’t tell a lie about it” you laugh at her pout.

“Wait a minute, so you’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?” Tony looks at you like you suddenly grew two heads.

“It’s not a big deal. Funny thing is, I have had boyfriends during New Year’s Eve, I just never happen to spend the day with them.” you say absentmindedly while thinking back at all the parties you’ve been to over the years to celebrate the new year.

“Really?” it's so quiet you almost missed it, your eyes snapping up to meet Bucky’s that were already looking at you.

“Is that so hard to believe?” The room seems to go quiet as everybody looks at you two, but you're too focused on each other to notice.

“I didn’t- I mean…” his cheeks started to turn a little pink as he seemed to have trouble finishing his sentence “It’s just you’re very pretty, who wouldn’t want to kiss you?”

You didn’t know what to say to that, you start blushing too while opening and closing your mouth a couple of times, looking like a damn fish.

You settle for a quiet ‘thank you’ with a smile that he shyly returns, neither of you noticing the glances passed by everyone else.

The whole team is convinced that there’s something between you and Bucky, but both of you always deny it and don’t seem to read too much into each other’s actions, always dismissing the glances and lingering touches as friendly affection even though you’re not really that close.

But really what else could it be?

The team lets the moment end and the game goes on, everyone keeps drinking and having fun until it gets really late and you all decide to call it a night.

Bucky goes to his bedroom and gets ready for sleep but he can’t seem to focus on anything else but you.

He really doesn’t understand how can anybody see your pretty self when you’ve just woken up, no makeup and your eyes full of sleep and not want to kiss you, let alone when you are all dolled up in a pretty golden dresses like you do every New Year’s.

Every year it gets harder for him not to just grab you and kiss you, hell every day is pretty much torture to see you around the Compound and not get to be with you the way he wants to.

But he has to keep his hands to himself because there’s no way you could actually like him like that.

He’s even tried to drop hints here and there like giving you the teddy bear for Valentine’s Day but, except for the cute shade of pink that your face turned, you still didn’t seem all that interested.

Still, that didn’t stop him from thinking what it would be like if you did like him and fantasize about being your first New Year’s kiss and maybe even your last first kiss.

At the same time you were in your own room getting ready for bed while your own thoughts kept going back to the moment you shared with Bucky in the living room.

You didn’t know if you were more embarrassed because you actually told the team you’ve never had a kiss on New Year’s Eve or happy because Bucky called you pretty.

If it was anyone else you wouldn’t even think twice about it, but coming from him it just felt like you were being complimented for the first time ever.

Everytime you thought about it you felt all warm and fuzzy inside, and at this point the moment was pretty much on loop in your mind.

The more you think about it the more you feel your face heat up, sleep not coming easily as you slip into Bucky filled dreams.

The next day everybody’s hanging out in the living room, most of them nursing a hangover from last night. You get ready for a last minute shopping trip to try and find a new dress for New Year’s Eve.

When you get to the living room you see Steve grinning at a disgruntled Tony, Wanda, Sam and Natasha who are obviously very hangover and nowhere near as amused as the blonde supersoldier.

Bucky’s attention is on you as soon as you're in his field of vision and no one fails to notice it, except you of course, your own attention on Wanda and Natasha sprawled on the couch.

“Well, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come shopping with me,” you start watching from one to the other, as amused as Steve at everyone’s inability to contain themselves when drinking. “but I don’t think that’s happening.”

“Bite me, YLN.” Is all Nat says.

Wanda, on the other hand, is a little gentler. “I can come with you, if you want.” she says sweetly.

“That’s okay, Wands.” you smile at her “just rest and drink lots of water.”

You turn around, saying bye to everyone and making your way out. As soon as the doors of the elevator close, everyone turns to Bucky that's not even pretending not to be staring anymore.

Not that anyone could ignore the longing look on Bucky’s face as he watches you walk away.

“Buck,” Steve starts talking, glancing at everyone before setting his gaze back on his best friend. “we need to talk.”

“Okay…” he slowly drags out, unsure if he even wants Steve to keep going.

“Well, we’ve been noticing some things lately…” He’s unsure of how to say this. “Between you and Y/N.”

Bucky’s cheeks start to turn a slight shade of pink, but he’s still not sure where Steve’s going with this so he says nothing.

“So we thought” he gestures around at everybody. “that maybe we should-”

“We know you like her, and we want to help you get with her.” Tony interrupts Steve, quickly getting to the point.

At Steve’s glare, Tony merely raises his hands in surrender saying, “Listen, Capsicle, I’m way too hungover to take the panoramic route. Let’s just get this over with.”

“Yeah, Stark’s right.” Sam says, turning Bucky whose face is fully red now. “You have a weak ass game, man. Let us help you.”

They all look at the brunette supersoldier while waiting for his answer. He chews on his lip while looking at the expectant faces of his friends, before letting out a deep sigh.

“How would you even help me?” He says quietly, neither accepting nor denying their help just yet.

“Well, we know Y/N,” Wanda says.

“Yeah, we can tell you what turns her on.” Natasha smirked, before Wanda flicks her ear making her let out an ‘ow’ with a slight pout.

“What she means is,” she glares at Natasha “we can tell you what she likes, you know. Maybe help you get closer to her.”

Bucky shakes his head lightly “This is not a good idea. And it doesn’t even matter if she doesn’t like me.”

Wanda and Natasha seem to have a silent conversation, ending with Natasha raising her eyebrow at Wanda and Wanda just sighing with a soft ‘fine’.

“She does like you.” Wanda turns back to Bucky.

“She’s just convinced that you don’t like her like that.” Natasha says with a roll of her eyes.

Bucky still wasn’t completely convinced, but he agreed nonetheless. Maybe it was the glimmer of hope the girls gave him, but if there was even the slightest chance you could actually like him, he owed it to himself to try.

So he let the team make a plan to get you guys together, hoping to god he wouldn’t come to regret it.

You come home a few hours later, super excited to have found the perfect dress for the party the next night.

Bucky thought you were just so cute, all smiles and giggles.

Wanda and Nat talked you into having the last girls night of the year, although it didn’t really take much convincing.

And so the plan begins.

You’re relaxing on your bed, Wanda lying next to you, your head on her lap, and Nat sprawled on the love seat near the window close to your bed.

You’re wearing bathrobes, sheet masks on your faces as you watch a cheesy romcom that you’re so embarrassingly into you don’t even notice the girls exchange a look and nod at each other.

Wanda clears her throat and then begins talking, as casually as she can. “So, how come you never told us you never had a New Year’s kiss?”

They had to approach the subject somehow, right?

“I don’t know,” you say absentmindedly and then shrug, your attention still on the Tv. “didn’t think it was important.”

“Sure it isn’t.” Nat said, and her tone took your attention away from the movie for the first time since it started.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Tasha?” she simply shrugs, an innocent look in the face.

“It doesn’t mean anything” she says, her attention seemingly on the movie “I mean, if it doesn’t bother you, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Why would it bother me?” you frown, you don't understand what's so weird about this.

“Well, some people might find it a little…” Wanda trails off.

“Sad?” Natasha ends for her.

“It’s not like I’ve never kissed anyone.” you're starting to get a little defensive.

“We know that, sweetie.” Wanda coos, stroking your hair while you look up at her.

“We really didn’t mean anything by it.” Natasha ends, giving you an apologetic look.

“Yeah, whatever.” is all you say, and you turn your eyes back to the tv, your attention nowhere near it.

Natasha and Wanda can basically hear the gears turn in your head and give each other one last glance.

Part one of the plan is complete.

The next day goes through like usual, the team spending basically the whole morning together.

It’s a tradition, having the last breakfast of the year together, watching the last movie, having the last lunch and so on. Doing all the lasts together.

It’s silly, but it’s a tradition you've all come to be very fond of.

The afternoon comes and you and the girls spend it getting ready for the party, last night’s conversation almost forgotten.

Almost.

As you got to the party the music was deafening before you even stepped out of the elevator and, once you did, you were immediately immersed in a sea of perfume and cologne and, like every other Stark party extravaganza, you didn’t know about 98% of the people there.

You quickly find the team, as outgoing as most of them are, you usually spend most of the night together because it’s the last night of the year, last party and, again, it's your tradition.

You talk, you joke, you laugh but the more you drink the more you keep thinking about your conversation with the girls last night.

Was it really that sad that you’ve never started a new year with a kiss?

Midnight came sooner than you would’ve liked and your teammates decide to ask you a sobering question.

“So, who are you kissing?” Tony asks very casually.

You turn around confused, the team’s eyes all on you. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, nobody told you?” Sam says, looking around him “We’re all kissing someone tonight.”

“I- You- What?” you glance towards Bucky so quickly he almost thought he imagined it.

“Well, Romanoff is kissing Rogers, I’m obviously kissing Pepper and Wanda is kissing Wilson.” Tony said, before specifying while pointing at the last two “As friends, obviously.”

“So, you’re all kissing someone?” You look at everyone except the one person you actually want to look at.

Something inside of you just believes that he would nod too and a beautiful woman that you could never compare to would appear at his side.

“Well,” Steve starts. “not all of us…”

He trails off and, following his gaze, you land on the very pair of blue eyes you were trying to avoid.

Suddenly everyone else scatters and it was just you and Bucky. You don't know what to say, but you feel like you can't look away from him now.

What the hell is happening to you?

You’re talking before you can even stop yourself “You know, we could also kiss. As friends.” you add, realizing what you just said, your eyes wide with your own surprise.

He’s about to say something, but you don’t give him a chance to get a sound out before you’re backtracking so fast you might actually fall out the window.

“You don’t have to. Obviously. It’s not like I’d make you.” you chuckled awkwardly, but you can’t stop yourself from rambling “Unless you wanted to. But why would you want to? It’s not like you’re missing anything. I’m not anything special.”

You can hear the countdown starting, but it sounds distant to your ears as your heart pounds faster. “I mean, I’m sure you’re a good kisser. Why wouldn’t you be? Not that you’re like a lady’s man.”

Bucky glances around him, the team giving him encouraging looks as they near zero and you just keep going “But like you were, you know. Not that it’s a bad thi-”

You're thankfully interrupted abruptly by Bucky’s lips on yours just as everyone yells ‘Happy New Year’ and gold and black confetti starts falling down on you.

You can't even begin to comprehend what's happening but your body does, kissing him back almost immediately.

It feels like forever and also too soon when he pulls away, you can't even hearing the chaos around you anymore.

All that exists is you and Bucky and his eyes and his arms around your waist and yours around his neck and his lips that you wanted to kiss again and kiss forever and never stop.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that” he says after a few seconds. Or maybe days. Weeks? Hours? It doesn’t matter.

All that matters is the bright smile he gives you when you say “Me too.”

He kisses you again, but this time the spell is broken by the team’s whistles and cheers.

When you pull away you’re both blushing a little, you glance around you and see all the smug faces of the idiots you love to death, Bucky’s attention never leaving you.

“And by the way,” Bucky says, gaining your attention once more. “you have more qualities than you think,” he then pointed at your chest “You have this.”

You looked down to where he was pointing before saying “I do have great tits, yes.”

When you looked back at him he was blushing even harder and looked like he was having a hard time maintaining eye contact, while you were more relaxed now that the kiss took away all the awkwardness, but trying hard not to laugh.

“... I meant heart” he said after a few moments of silence.

“Either or.” you answered, shrugging and when you heard the snickers of the team around you, you couldn’t help but join them, followed by a still blushing Bucky.

Yep, this year is definitely gonna be an interesting one.

725 notes · View notes

dontsearchformyaccount · 10 months ago

Text

Y/n: DAD , SHE SAID YES ! I ASKED HER TO BE MY GIRLFRIEND AND SHE SAID YES!!!

Tony : Thats great .Now who is this women i have to give a dad talk to ?

Y/n: You already know her ...its Natasha

Tony:Excuse me, what ?!!!!

Tony: Altough you have great taste , dating colleagues, exspecially red heads is not allowed.

Y/n: seriously? Mum worked for you before you married her !And wtf Dad

Tony: That was differen-fair point .

If she hurts you i'll kill her .

Y/n:Yeah good luck trying that

Tony:What was that?

Y/n:Nothing !

*walks out *

Pepper:She's got a point

Tony :How long have you been standing there ?! No -you know forget it i need a drink.

Pepper:Tony No

381 notes · View notes

lokilaufeysonslove · 7 months ago

Text

Y/n: *running into living room at night* Can I have some ice cream?

Tony: What is the rule?

Y/n: *sighs* No sweets after eight.

Tony: No, that’s Pepper’s rule. Mine is to bring me some as well.

#marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #incorrect marvel quotes #incorrect quotes #tony stark #pepper potts #virginia potts #avengers x y/n #tony and pepper’s daughter #tony stark’s daughter

111 notes · View notes

arlana-likes-to-write · 3 months ago

Text

Second Chance - Chapter 16

Masterlist

Warning: nightmare, physical harm, bruises, panic attack, mention of past abusive relationship, mention of suicidal thoughts/depression, Yelena needs a hug and the reader is there to give her one.

Word Count: 4.7K

Relationship: Yelena x reader, Tony x reader (platonic), Pepper x reader (platonic)

At first, you weren’t sure what woke you up. It could have been the cold air that nipped at your skin or the unfamiliar feeling of hunger that plagued your stomach. When you woke up fully, you discovered what it was. A moan came from Yelena. Her hands clenched the sheets tightly, and beads of sweat lined her forehead. Her breathing became frantic and erratic; each inhale was sharper than the last. Another moan left Yelena’s lips, low and guttural, and it intensified into a plea for help. She was trapped in a nightmare. “Yelena,” you kept your voice steady. “Wake up. It’s a dream.” Even though you kept your movements slow, Yelena still bolted awake.

She lunged quickly, pinning your body to the bed with hers. For the first time since meeting the Black Widow, you did not recognize the look in her green eyes. Her gaze was wide and vacant, pupils blown out with fear. “No! No!” She snarled, grabbed your wrists, and put them over your head. “YA ne pozovlyu tebe prichinit’ mne bol’ (I will not let you hurt me).” You weren’t sure what she said in Russian, but her free hand went to your throat.

You gulped. The tight hold she had on your wrist was starting to hurt. “Lena,” you spoke slowly and gently. “It’s me, baby. You are safe.” You tried to break through the fog of the nightmare. It took a long, tense moment, but you saw the moment Yelena returned. Her gaze softened, confusion settling over her face as she returned to reality. Her breathing slowed. “It’s okay,” you smiled. “It’s okay.”

As fast as she pinned you to the bed, she got off you just as quickly. Her body shook as she sat at the foot of the bed and stared at you. You wanted to wrap her in a hug and tell her everything was going to be okay. “Yelena,” you moved closer to her.

“Stop,” her voice was hoarse. “Do not come near me.” Your heart broke for her. Her eyes flickered to your wrist and neck. You could tell it was starting to bruise from how hard she held you down.

“I’m okay, I promise,” you weren’t angry or upset with her.

“I need a minute. I need-”

“Okay,” you cut her off as you saw the signs of a panic attack. If you being here was causing her distress, you would leave. You kept your movement slow as you climbed out of her bed and to her door. Her eyes followed. They were glued to you as if she expected you to return to your word.

You released a deep breath when you left your room and closed the door. You moved on autopilot out of Yelena’s apartment and to your floor. Instead of going to the safety of your room, you knocked rapidly against Kate’s door. You weren’t surprised to see America on the other side. “What happened?” She asked and pulled you inside. The archer was on the couch where America took you.

“N-nothing,” you stuttered. “I-I’m fine. I’m fine.”

“Go get the bruise cream,” Kate told America—every breath you took hurt. Your chest felt incredibly tight. “Hey, I need you to breathe for me.” You shook your head.

“I can’t,” you whimpered. Kate nodded and took your hand.

“Yes, you can,” she said, placing your hand over her heart. “Feel that,” you nodded. Match it. Breathe with me.” It took some time, but your breathing matched hers. America walked over to you and sat on their coffee table.

“Can I touch your neck?” You nodded, unable to find your voice. You felt Kate move, but you held onto her tighter, not wanting her to leave. She got the message and stayed. “There is no damage, just surface bruising,” America said. She placed some of the cream on her hand and rubbed it on your neck. “Bruce and Helen designed this,” she explained. It helps speed up the healing process.” Once she was satisfied, she moved to your wrists.

“She didn’t do it on purpose,” you defended.

“We know,” you looked at the archer. “We’ve known Yelena longer than you. A nightmare, I’m guessing.” You nodded. America stood up, walked into their kitchen to wash her hands, and grabbed a water bottle.

“Are you okay?” America asked and handed you the water.

You drank half of it before answering. “Yes, it was an accident,” a playful smirk came to your face. “Not how I wanted her to pin me down, if you know what I mean.” Kate groaned, grabbed a couch pillow, and smacked you across your face. Your joint laughter filled their pace. “She asked for space, so I gave it to her, but I’m worried.”

“She will come around,” Kate said. “Her worst fear came to life,” you raised a questioning eyebrow at her. “Hurting someone, she deeply cares about. It was unintentional, but it still happened.” You sighed and finished the rest of the water.

“It will all be okay, and you guys will go back to being cute and gross together,” America mimicked kissing sounds. You were quick to grab another pillow to hit her. The girl gasped. “This is war!” America grabbed the pillow Kate hit you with and swung it at you. But you quickly doge and grab your pillow as a weapon. They kept their hits soft, but the laughter and smile on your face helped ease the pain in your wrist and neck.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After a quick shower and changing into clean clothes covering your wrists and neck, you felt better and walked to Tony’s lab. The man smiled at you but did not stop moving holograms around. You sat on the couch and pulled out your phone. “Everything okay, kid?” You playfully rolled your eyes.

“Can’t I come down here and hang out with my old man,” the billionaire gasped.

“I am not old.”

“Older than me,” you giggled. The man sighed and shook his head fondly. You returned your attention to your phone. Even though you and Yelena were going through a ‘rough patch,’ you wanted to get ideas for your date. You took what Natasha said and googled ‘dog date sports,’ but nothing good came up unless you had a dog.

“Hey, do you want to help me with something?” You threw your phone on the couch and walked over to him. He moved the holograms to the screen. You can easily see the digital makeup of the Black Widow suits. There was a list of things he wanted to add, such as a heart rate monitor and better armor. Yelena requested more pockets. You made a mental note to ask the blonde about that. “I mean, I like the old design,” Tony said. “But I think they are a little outdated, don’t you think?” You nodded, agreeing with him.

They were alright per se, and the purpose of the suits was protection, not to look good. But your mom always said you should look your best to perform at your best. “So, could you draw new suits for them?”

Wait. Pause. What did he ask you? “You want me to design new suits for Nat and Yelena?” He nodded.

“I want you to design new suits for all of us, but I figured starting with the terrorizing Black Widow duo would be a good start,” he printed a list of the things you needed to add to the new suits. “Are you up for the challenge?” You snapped the paper out of his hands and rolled your eyes.

“Please,” you sat back down on the couch. “I could draw you with my eyes closed.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Yelena grunted when your back hit the patted mat again. This was the third time in 15 minutes that Maria was able to outmaneuver her and pin her to the ground. Usually, the agent was able to get a few decent hits in, but Yelena’s mind was a million miles away - in her bed, her hands on you so tight they caused bruises. She hurt you - left bruises on your skin out of fear.

Maria stepped back, whipped the sweat off her forehead with her hand, and stared down at Yelena. The blonde could tell a talk was incoming. She came to the gym to hit or be hit - to know the man she caused you. “Okay,” Maria started. “I know I’m good, but I’m not this good. What’s going on with you?” Yelena ignored Maria’s outstretched hand and stood up on her own. She grabbed her water and sat on the edge of the boxing ring. The rope pressed against her forehead. “So you are pissed off,” Maria sat next to her. “It’s not good to keep those big feelings inside.”

“Hill,” Yelena said through gritted teeth. “I am going to kill you.”

“Your life would be boring without me,” Maria pumped her shoulder against Yelena’s. The blonde groaned and closed her eyes. Her moment of peace lasted for 5 minutes until Maria spoke again, “Is it about Stark’s kid?” The mere mention of you caused Yelena to deflate. It was noticeable to Maria. “What happened?”

“Had a nightmare,” Yelena mumbled. “Woke up, but I did not see her,” she let out a shaky breath. “I saw a Red Room guard, and I-” Her eyes squeezed tighter. “Caused bruises on her wrist and throat. I hurt her.” Maria was silent. The one time Yelena wanted Maria to speak, she was meant with silence. The agent sighed.

“Yelena, look at me,” the blonde shook her head. She felt Maria’s hands on her to move her. She had no energy to fight her. She was so sad and angry. Why was she so fucked up? Why was she so broken? “Open your eyes, Lena,” Slowly, she opened them. Maria was smiling at her. “This was not your fault.” Yelena scuffed.

“My hands put those bruises on her.” She angrily whipped away a tear.

“Yes, they did,” Maria agreed. But you were in a nightmare-induced haze. I know if you were thinking rationally, you would not hurt that girl. Your heart is too big for that.” The blonde sighed and pulled one knee to her chest. She looked towards the wall to avoid looking at Maria. What happened after you snapped out of it?”

“She said she was okay. I could tell she wanted to comfort me,” she said in disbelief. She could not wrap her mind around that. She caused you pain, and you wanted to make sure she was okay. “I asked for space, and she left.”

“Yelena,” the blonde looked back at the agent. “Y/n is not Victoria.” The mention of her ex caused her stomach to drop.

“I know that.”

“Do you?” Maria questioned. “Look, it is going to take time for you to trust her because of how Victoria treated you, but Y/n will not throw your trauma back in your face.” Yelena pulled her knee closer to her for any comfort.

“How do you know that for sure?” Yelena whispered. Her voice was so soft she almost did not recognize it.

“I don’t,” Maria admitted. That is the scary thing about love. " She placed a hand on Yelena’s shoulder and squeezed it. It could end beautifully or backfire, but whatever happens, I am here.” Yelena managed a smile.

“Thanks,” the blonde stood up. “Ready to get your ass kicked.” Maria chuckled.

“You’re on, Belova.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A gentle tap on your shoulder pulled you out of your little bubble. You looked up from your tablet and paused your music. “Hi,” you said to Yelena.

“Can we talk?” She asked. “Somewhere private.” She found you on the common floor. The team members were going about their business, but you nodded and followed Yelena to a meeting room. You put your tablet on the table and faced the blonde as she closed the door.

“I am sorry,” you both said simultaneously when Yelena turned to face you.

“Why are you apologizing?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” you giggled with a smile and sat on top of the table. “It felt right,” Yelena rolled her eyes with a playful smile and moved closer to her.

“Can I see?” She questioned. You knew what she was asking. You rolled up your sleeves, shivering as her fingers danced across the bruised skin.

“America put a cream on them,” you whispered. Her eyes flickered to yours. The sight took your breath away. There was so much guilt and sadness in her green eyes. “Hey, I’m not mad at you.”

“I did this to you,” she said. “I hurt you.” You moved closer to the edge of the table. You could feel her breath mingle with yours.

“Who did you see?” The question confused her. “Who was I in your nightmare?” She licked her lips.

“A Red Room guard,” her voice cracked. “I thought you were trying to hurt me.” You vaguely remembered a sentence she yelled at you in Russian.

All you wanted to do was take her pain away. You wanted to take all her trauma and hurt and hurt those that hurt her. “Baby,” you whispered. “I can’t imagine what you have gone through, and I will never understand it, but your trauma does not make you a bad person. You were trying to protect yourself, and you came back to me before you hurt me.” Yelena closed her eyes and rested her head against yours.

“How did you do it?” she whispered. Her hands shook as she cupped your face. “How is your heart good?” You grabbed onto your wrist. Your touch caused her eyes to open.

Truthfully, your heart felt heavy. With everything life threw at you, you wanted to succumb to the darkness. That wasn’t the answer Yelena was looking for. You kissed her softly. “If life gives you lemons, all you can do is make lemonade.” The Black Widow chuckled with a roll of her eyes.

“You made some sweet lemonade, devochka (baby girl),” you loved when Yelena spoke Russian. It made your body heat up. It felt different from the Russian, she said this morning. Her green eyes scanned you over, her lips turned up into a smirk. Yelena’s lips were on yours intensely. Her hands moved underneath your shirt. You gasped; the warmth of her hands sent a shiver down your spine. Yelena took advantage and slipped her tongue into your mouth.

Her touch was electrifying. Yelena consumed every sense. You’ve never felt this way from kissing anyone before. The burn of your lungs was irrelevant because her lips were on you. “Krasivyy (beautiful),” Yelena mumbled, moving her lips down your neck and gently kissing the bruise on your skin. “Takoy sladkiy i myagkiy (so sweet and soft.” You whimpered. Her slipping into her mother language was dizzying; a blanket of warmth covered you. She chuckled against your skin. “You like it when I speak Russian,” you nodded. “Use your words, devochka (baby girl),” she sucked on your pulse point, and you gripped onto Yelena’s shirt.

“Yelena, please,” you moaned. You weren’t sure what you were asking for, but she was turning your brain to mush.

“Seriously!” The door opened, and you jumped away from Yelena. You saw Wanda over Yelena’s shoulder. “Ugh! I hate I have to worry about walking in on you two now! " You felt your body heat up and buried your face into Yelena’s shoulder.

“Maybe you are just jealous, Wands,” Yelena teased. “You and Vis need to spice up your sex life. I can give him pointers or ty mozhesh’ prisoyedinit’sya k nam (you can join us).” Whatever Yelena said stuck a nerve with Wanda. One moment, the blonde’s arms were around you, and the next, she was flying across the room into the wall with red magic glowing around her.

“Yelena!” You said and ran over to her. The blonde groaned as she lay on the ground.

“She’ll be fine,” Wanda smiled. You looked over your shoulder as you helped Yelena up. “It will teach her to keep her mouth shut.” Damn, maybe you should have taken Russian in school. “Bye, lover birds,” Wanda left the room, keeping the door open.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“I will live,” she stretched her back. “But a kiss could help make it better.” You rolled your eyes and gave her a quick kiss. Her pout was cute when you pulled away.

“Are you free this afternoon?” You asked.

“Yeah,” she answered without hesitation.

“Good,” you kissed her cheek. “You have plans with me.” You walked to the door and grabbed your stuff before leaving. Her footsteps hurried after you.

“Can I know where we are going?”

“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’. “It’s my turn to kidnap you. Be ready in a half an hour.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were quick to figure out Yelena hated surprises. As you drove one of Tony’s cars to your destination, she could not sit still and asked a million and one questions. Even when you put your hand on her thigh, she was still anxious. “Are you okay?” you asked when you were at a red light.

“Just,” she sighed and played with the ring on your finger. “Not used to this.” You knew what she meant. You felt the same when she took you to the aquarium.

“If this gets too much, we can leave,” you turned when the light changed. “No harm, no foul, but,” you sat up and glanced at Yelena. I think you’ll like it.”

“Where are we going?” She asked again. You laughed with a shake of your head.

“We are almost there.”

It was another 10 minutes until you parked in the lot of Paws of Hope Rescue. Yelena looked confused looked confused as you got out of the car. “Just trust me,” you smiled and grabbed her hand. You grabbed her towards the building. As you walked in, you heard some dogs barking, and Yelena’s face lit up at the sound.

“Hello, you must be Miss. Stark,” It was weird going by your father’s name, but if you had to use the influence of the Starks to get what you needed, then so be it. She was around your age and named Sara, according to her name tag. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Please right this way,” she said, moving behind the desk, and you followed her to the back. You were moving away from the sound of the dogs barking, but you were getting more excited at each step. “Alright, these are the puppies that need some extra socialization.” Sara opened the door.

She brought you to a puppy play den. You climbed over the gate and heard Yelena’s gasp when she saw the dogs. There were seven of them. Sara told you over the phone that the group was of bully breeds and labs, dogs that society deemed aggressive. The floor was littered with different toys and household products. “Have fun, and please come get me if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Sara.” The woman left and closed the door behind her. As she left, a gray pittie walked over to Yelena. The blonde bent down and let the dog smell her fingers. Once the dog licked her, Yelena picked him up.

“What are we doing here?” Yelena questioned, cuddling the dog to her chest.

“Playing with some pups,” you picked up a rope toy, and a black lab ran up to you. He grabbed onto one end and started to pull it. “A Paws of Hope is a nonprofit. They rescue dogs from kill shelters, socialize them, and help them find new homes,” you shrugged and sat on the ground. “I may have called, made a sizable donation in the Avenger’s name, and asked if we could come play with some puppies.” You threw the toy, and some of the dogs raced after it. “You like dogs, so I figured you would like this.”

“You did this for me,” Yelena questioned. You smiled.

“I’d do anything to see you smile,” a light blush dusted her cheeks. “Come on, baby, let’s play.”

It was only a short time till you found yourself watching Yelena, who was throwing a small tennis ball across the room. Three of the six puppies would run after it and turn back to the blonde to start the cycle again. A white and brown pit bull took an interest in you right away. Instead of joining the other dogs playing, the little dog was content with napping in your lap. Every time you pet the dog’s head or under her chin, it seems to relax into your arms more.

Yelena’s smile was infectious. You couldn’t help but smile, too. Still, your heart felt heavy.

‘How is your heart good?’

‘Yelena leaves her heart on her sleeve.’

‘Even though you refuse treatment, that could keep you here with her.’

‘It’s Morgan.’

‘If you don’t get a bone marrow transplant, you’ll die.’

‘If I die, so be it,’ that was what you yelled at Pepper and Tony when they told you Morgan was a match. When you were younger, a blanket of heaviness trapped you some days. Not even your mom could pull you out of it. All she could do was offer space and sometimes join you under the blanket.

The blanket wasn’t as suffocating as you grew, and you learned to manage it. Then your mom died. Then, the Blip. Then, your cancer diagnosis. The heaviness was creeping out of the corner of your mind.

You’ve been close to taking your own life once. It was night as you steered your sailboat. At your destination, people were waiting for you. You were going to help build houses and teach kids the importance of caring for the ocean, but the dark color of the water made it seem more inviting. If you jumped in, it would shock your system; your core body temperature would plummet, and water would fill your lungs.

For many people, drowning was the worst way to go. The ocean scared so many people, but you found it inspiring and unpredictable. You stayed on your boat that night and made it to shore. Now, a deadly disease was running through your body, and the only cure was a 5-year-old girl, your half-sister.

You refused to use her because a deep, dark part of you wanted to die. You were too weak to do it yourself.

Soft hands touched your cheek, and you saw Yelena standing before you. Her green eyes filled with concern. “Is everything okay?” You asked her.

“Sara asked if we wanted to take some dogs for a walk,” you smiled.

“Yeah,” you stood up, and your heart broke at the small whine your friend let out when you woke up. Grabbing onto your hand, Yelena led you out of the room.

Your heart was not good. You were selfish in your relationship with Yelena. No matter how often you wanted to push her away, you held her closer.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After you returned the dogs and said goodbye to Sara, you drove to a local Italian restaurant for an early dinner. “Thank you for today,” Yelena said, ripping a piece of bread and dipping it into the oil.

“I’m glad you had fun. It was cute how excited you got with the dogs,” Yelena rolled her eyes.

“I am not cute,” you chuckled and sipped your water.

“Whatever you say, darling, whatever you say.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Back at the tower, Yelena went to see her sister, left you with a kiss on your lips, and made you promise to let her know if you needed anything. You promised. What you needed was a change of clothes that did not smell like a dog. So you changed quickly, still covering your arms and neck, and headed to Pepper’s office.

The CEO was on the phone when you walked in. She held up one finger but pointed to the empty seats before her. You were patient, and the phone call only lasted a few minutes. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I hate people.” You laughed.

“Don’t we all,” Pepper smiled and leaned back in her chair.

“I’m surprised you are here,” you looked at her with your head tilted. “I figured my daughter would have you trapped, or you would be with Yelena.”

“Wanda has your daughter, and Yelena is with Natasha,” you said. “Besides, I want to spend time with you,” her face softened. “And maybe help you with that.” You pointed to the stack of papers.

“Knock yourself out,” she laughed. You picked up the stack of papers and walked to her couch. Paperwork was annoying but a necessary evil.

You both worked in silence. Sometimes, she would ask about you and Yelena, and you didn’t miss the smirk on her face. Soon enough, you felt it, the tiredness that affected your bones. It was a long day, but you hated how useless you felt when you felt like this. You were lying on your back with a billing report in your hand. The numbers began to blur together. Pepper’s office was comforting. It was warm, smelt like cinnamon, and it was easy to fall asleep.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Pepper looked at you with a fond smile on her. For the past 5 minutes, she watched you fight the sleep that was calling you. Pepper stood up and grabbed a blanket from a drawer. Quickly, she picked up the papers you were helping her with and laid the blanket over you. You cuddled up underneath it. You were a sweetheart. Your heart was too pure for the world you were subjected to.

It had been an hour since you fell asleep, and Pepper knew you needed to wake up. That couch was not comfortable, as she had fallen asleep on it once or twice. The soft and slow fall of your chest was a comforting sight. “Sweetheart,” Pepper said. “Wake up. I bet your bed is more comfortable than my couch,” she joked, but you remained fast asleep. The CEO frowned. “FRIDAY, can you get Yelena and have her come to my office?”

“Yes, Mrs. Potts,” the AI said. Pepper sighed. It wasn’t long until the door opened, and she saw Yelena walk over to her.

“She fell asleep about an hour ago, and I tried to wake her up, but she’s out like a light.” Yelena hummed.

“Today was long,” the Black Widow whispered. “She ate an early dinner, so I will bring her to her room.” Yelena took off the blanket and lifted you, cradling you close to her chest. Pepper smiled. “What?”

“Nothing,” the CEO said. “You are good for her.” Pepper watched uncertainty flash through the Black Widow’s eyes.

“Thank you,” Yelena mumbled and stood up. Pepper held open the door for her and watched Yelena walk to the elevator. She knew Tony was worried about you with Yelena, but the man had nothing to worry about.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You started to wake up when Yelena walked out of the elevator and onto your floor. “Where am I?” You mumbled sleepily.

“On your floor,” Yelena said. “I am bringing you to bed.” You hummed and curled up closer to her. It was a cute sight, but Yelena was plagued with worry. She hated how light you felt in her arms. Yelena opened your door and made her way to your bedroom. Gently, she placed you down and pulled the blankets up to your chin.

You woke up again when Yelena tried to walk away. “Stay, please,” you weakly grabbed onto her wrist.

“I will, but I want to get you some water and food if you get hungry,” you pouted, eyebrows pinched together in disgust. Yelena bite back a laugh. “I will be right back,” you dropped the hold on your hand on her wrist.

Quickly, Yelena went into your kitchen and filled up your water bottle. She searched your cabinets to find something simple and easy on your stomach. She picked a pop tart and a protein bar. You were asleep when she returned and placed the items on the nightstand. She climbed into bed, which caused you to open your eyes again. “Hi,” you smiled. Yelena couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hi, pretty girl,” you closed your eyes and grabbed her hand.

“You think I’m pretty?” You questioned.

“The prettiest,” Yelena whispered and kissed your hand.

“I think you are pretty, too,” the blonde chuckled.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart, I will be here when you wake up.”

Taglist: @likemick, @averagetmblrusser, @wandaromamoff69, @simpforyelenabelova, @cd-4848

#yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x y/n #yelena belova x y/n stark #black widow fanfiction #tony stark x reader #tony stark x daughter #pepper potts x reader #pepper potts x daughter!reader

55 notes · View notes

creative-caramel-coffee · 8 months ago

Text

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 6

Summary: Reader goes to a stark party to meet some new people.

TW: Drinking, parties (ew), minor blood

Words: 2k

A/n Sorry for the late update my life is chaos.

Looking around at all the people you felt yourself beginning to feel a little insecure. You could pick out most of the people in the room from the TV alone. These weren’t just your average everyday people, these were superhero’s. And despite having powers yourself you still felt like you didn’t belong among legends.

Without realising it you had popped out your fangs, a small habit that displayed your nerves. You did realise it when it nicked your tongue. The coppery taste of blood in your mouth for a second before it healed.

Starting to feel a little overwhelmed Wanda placed a hand on your arm. Her touch was grounding and you were slowly being pulled back out of your own head and back to the party.

“It’s alright if it’s a bit much. It was for my first time as well. Are you ok?” Wanda said quietly to you.

You swallowed and nodded. “I’m alright. Just gimme a sec.”

Steeling your nerves and swallowing down your anxiety you stood a little taller and nodded to Wanda who was silently observing you.

After giving you a moment to adjust Wanda begun shepherding you over to a small group of people. Seemingly taking it upon herself to introduce you to people knowing if it was up to you, you would stay in the corner all night.

Before you had even realised Natasha had left your side she was handing you a drink with a cute little umbrella.

“I figure you liked it a bit fruity.” She said with a wink and your cheeks heated under the glare you shot her as she sipped her vodka martini.

As you arrived in front of the group Wanda seemed to want to introduce you to first, you took a sip of the drink, finding it to be rather good.

Looking around the group Wanda begun introducing you to it was an odd bunch.

“Y/n,” Wanda begun, gesturing to a tall blonde woman in a leather jacket. “This is Carol, or captain Marvel.” Wanda said with a teasing tone as carol rolled her eyes.

“Hi.” You said and Carol smiled warmly at you.

“Nice to meet you Y/n.” Carol said extending a hand which you took. She had a firm handshake and warm but not sweaty hands. The kind but mischievous twinkle in her eyes promised a fun kind of trouble.

“This old man is Nick Fury.” Natasha said clapping a hand on the back of a dark-skinned man with an eyepatch.

“Watch yourself Romanoff.” He said but Nat just smirked. “Nice to meet you kid.” He said extending a hand. After shaking his hand Natasha introduced you to the last person in the group.

“This is Agent Maria Hill.” Nat said elbowing her in the ribs and receiving a heatless glare in response.

“Nice to meet you.” She said giving a welcoming nod to you which you returned.

“So I hear you’re the newest spider in town?” Carol asks smiling at you as she took a swig of her beer.

“Uhhh … yeah.” You said rubbing the back of your neck.

“No need to be so nervous kid, we don’t bite. Unless you want me to.” Carol winked and you smiled back shyly not realising your fangs were out.

“Wow kid. Nice teeth.” Carol said. “Is that a spider thing?” She said looking curious.

“Yeah.” You said putting them away again.

“That’s pretty cool.” Carol said.

“We’re lucky she doesn’t bite.” Wanda said teasingly.

“I dunno,” Nat said rejoining the group with Maria. “I’d let her bite me.” She said with a wink and you choked on the sip you had just taken of your drink.

Coughing as Nat burst out laughing, Wanda pounded your back while Maria was lecturing Natasha in an amused fashion. Carol simply watched with a grin which matched Nats despite being told off.

Fury simply watched with his upper lip twitching as if it wanted to smile but wasn’t allowed which would probably have some level of accuracy to it.

When you regained your composure and your voice, your cheeks were stained with a dark blush.

“So, are you an avenger now kid?” Carol asked.

“I’m not sure.” You said.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to Stark and Rogers about that one.” Fury said looking at you for a reaction. You simply blinked looking at him and only looking away when you realised, he wasn’t going to elaborate.

“Either way, welcome to our little bunch. If you ever need anything or just to escape the compound of chaos, give me a call.” Carol said and Maria agreed.

“I’ve only ever seen Nat take a liking to something this fast once before and that was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” Maria said receiving a punch from Nat in the arm replying only with a smirk.

“So, how’d the whole spider thing happen?” Carol asked looking curious.

“I should have said this is y/n Parker.” Wanda said emphasising your last name.

“Like Peter Parker?” Carol asked.

“My little brother.” You clarified with a nod.

“So does being part spider run in the family or did you both do a deal with Satan?” Maria asks and you laughed feeling a bit less anxious now the vibe had changed and there was some alcohol in your blood.

“Peter and I both ended up on the field trip where he got his powers. I was chaperoning and he was … being Peter. Anyways Parker luck and we both got bit by the dumb spider.” You said.

“So you’ve just been keeping a low profile since?” Maria asked.

“Yeah. Something like that. I mean I would take Peter’s old suits for a spin when I could but not too often. Our powers differ a little so I had to play the part and not do some things he couldn’t.” You shrugged sipping your drink again.

“Well it sounds like your well adjusted to it all.” Carol complimented.

You snorted in response. “Adjusted, maybe. Cursed, definitely. What can I say Parker luck is real. I almost got it tattooed once.” You said shrugging.

“Well, it’s been great to see you all again, but I need to take y/n to make the rounds. Learn some new names and see some fresh faces.” Wanda said saying goodbye before dragging you away with her hand clasped tightly around your own.

Natasha lingered with her friends for a little longer while wanda and you were swallowed up into another small group as wanda didn’t want to overwhelm you with too many people at once.

When she came to a stop you were stood in front of a few couches with various familiar faces lounging around talking and laughing.

“Hi honey.” A voice said and you looked over to the blue couch to see Aunt May sat next to Pepper, both holding a glass of white wine.

“Hi Aunt May.” You said feeling a little more comfortable with her around. She always made you feel safe.

“You look amazing sweetheart.” May said.

“I love the dress.” Pepper pitched in and you nodded thanking her.

Pepper patted the seat next to her and you slid into the spot beside her as Natasha appeared from nowhere and handed you a new drink, taking the glass you hadn’t realised was empty.

“Fruity.” Natasha whispered in your ear but this time you swatted her as she disappeared laughing to get herself another drink.

“How many of those have you had?” May asked.

“Not nearly enough to be drunk with my metabolism.” You said rolling your eyes.

“You your brother will drink me out of house and home, and I already feed four enhanced people with the metabolism of fifteen people.” Tony said rolling his eyes.

“Be nice Tony. Plus, Peter can’t even drink yet.” Pepper said swatting his arm.

“Oh right. Yeah, that kids never touching alcohol. I watched him trip over his own feet too many times in the past week to count. I can’t imagine he would be able to even stand if he ever got drunk.” Tony said shaking his head at the idea making you and May laugh.

“Im afraid they both are clumsy.” May said and you groaned scrubbing a hand over your face.

“Really?” Wanda asked her curiosity peaked. “Any good stories?” She asked with a mischievous smirk on her lips.

“Oh, too many to count.” May said laughing and waving a hand to indicate how many.

“Please enlighten us.” Clint said seemingly having appeared from nowhere and plopping himself down on the couch opposite pepper and may. He slung an arm around Tony who promptly shoved him off.

“Personal space birdbrain.” Tony grumbled. “But please, do spill.” He said ignoring pepper protective glare he was receiving.

“Oh, I don’t know…” May said glancing at you as you shook your head pleading with her to drop it. “What about just the flip trip one?” She asked and you swallowed pausing for a second before nodding.

“Fine.” You grumbled as Clint and Tony cheered.

“Whats got feathers and grease monkey so happy?” Nat said sitting down next to Clint.

“Story-time about the Parker’s.” Stark said. “More importantly … embarrassing story time.” He clarified and nat looked at you with a raised brow as you just shook your head and slumped over to bury your face in Wanda’s neck. The alcohol making you slightly more confident and comfortable around them.

“Alright. Well as long as I can recall they have both been clumsy. But there was one time after the spider-bite that their spider sense made it even more interesting. Peter was going into their room and Y/n was heading to the living room. They both must have sensed it because peter tripped over his own feet and before he could land flat on his face, he did a front flip and landed in a crouch with one hand on the ground. Y/n would have been in his way, but she had hopped up and stuck to the ceiling. So, she was hanging on by her fingertips and peter was standing back up as she let go of the roof and fell on top of him.” May said with a chuckle.

Tony’s face was lit up like a kid on Christmas. Pepper was stifling a smile and Nat had snorted into her drink. Wanda was trembling slightly under you as her body shook with suppressed giggles as her hand glided softly through your hair as your face was still buried in her neck hiding.

Clint whistled lowly. “Impressive … yet also not.” He said chuckling to himself.

“ok enough of that.” You whined and May smiled at you softly.

“Alright honey. How about pepper tells us some stories about stark.” May said sharing a mischievous smirk with pepper who immediately grinned at stark who grumbled to himself about betrayal.

As pepper launched into a story about the time the great Tony stark had turned up to a meeting sans pants, May pulled you aside.

“You haven’t told them have you?” She said in a low whisper.

“Told them what?” You mumbled looking at your shoes.

“Come on Y/n. I know its different now but he’s not just your brother. I know it hurts but he’s still your-“

“I know.” You said cutting May off before she could finish and say the word that brought pain to your very soul. “But he’s not May. Not anymore … its different. I had to live without him for five years. It changes you. It changed me.“ you mumbled wishing you had grabbed your drink before this impromptu sidebar.

“They’ll see your file eventually, they will connect the dots. It would be better coming from the two of you if you told them yourselves.” May said taking on a sad almost worried voice.

“I’ll talk to Petey about it.” You said and she rubbed a hand up and down your bicep and offered as small smile.

“Good.” May said before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

As the two of you rejoined the group your eyes had a little less of a glint in them. The pain still raw from things you didn’t want to remember.

The battle against Thanos had been somewhat of a sore subject around the tower and you didn’t want to bring up the avengers failure.

The rest of the party was smooth sailing as things began to die down.

@tia-thesimp @lizzielillvr @leenasayeed @justarandomreaderxoxo @sycamorelibrary754 @dorabledewdroop @redwolfqueen19 @sadlesbeansstuff @idkwhatever580

Part 7

252 notes · View notes