#purple is the best color just ask Clint

[therulingqueen]

Tripped down the last two steps in front of my house in a very Clint Barton manner and sprained the front part of my foot pretty bad. Dr asked what color wrap I wanted. Yeah, since it was a Clint thing to do, had to have a Clint color.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

The Avengers: Part Five

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

MCU Rewrite Masterlist

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Natasha escorts you three into the bridge where a ton more people are. Computers on both sides with people working on all of them. There is a long table in the center of the room with Nick Fury and Maria Hill posted on a small platform with a control desk.

"Gentlemen. Ladies," Fury greets. Fury moves to go past Steve when your friend stops him suddenly. He pulls out a ten-dollar bill and hands it to Fury. Nick takes the money and walks over to Bruce who is still shy about everything. "Doctor, thank you for coming."

"Thank you for asking nicely." Bruce looks at you and shakes Fury's hand politely. "So, uh, how long am I staying?"

"Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you're in the clear."

"Where are you with that?"

Fury points to Phil so he can explain it to him. Natasha looks at one of the computers that has Clint's picture on it. Clint is her best friend whom she owes everything to. She's not going to go down without a fight. She is going to bring him back home.

"We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet--cellphones, laptops, tablets. If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us."

"That's still not gonna find them in time," Natasha sighs.

"You have to narrow the field. How many spectrometers do you have access to?" Bruce asks Fury.

"How many are there?"

"Call every lab you know, tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm based on cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?"

"Agent Romanoff, would you show Dr.Banner to his laboratory, please?"

Natasha walks past you without a look in your direction.

"You're gonna love it, Doc. We got all the toys."

It's going to take a while to track down Loki, and you're not needed for that. The computers will do it for you, so you decide to take a little break to gather your thoughts.

"Hey, are you okay?" Steve asks when you walk past him.

"I just need some air. I'll be back."

You walk out of the bridge and onto the long airstrip. This process is going to take all day but you'd rather enjoy the sunset from out here than in there. You're high above the clouds so that you can't see the world below you. There is nothing preventing you from seeing such a beautiful sunset. You walk to the edge of the helicarrier and sit down so that your legs dangle off the edge and right above one of the wind turbines. The sky is beaming with pink, orange, and purple colors. The clouds look like a blanket you can just walk over.

It's truly beautiful.

"They told me you were outside."

You look back to see Natasha walking out to you.

"Hi," you say and immediately get up. "I needed to get away from everyone for a bit. You know how that goes." She nods and uncomfortable silence fills the space between you two. "Nat, I am so sorry."

"What happened? You were just... gone."

"I don't know. I was sent to Asgard. I don't know why I ended up there. I tried to leave but Thor just dragged me along with him. I--I don't have an excuse. I didn't realize two years had passed. Time works differently on Asgard than it does here."

"I thought you left me like you didn't want to be with me. It's hard for me to let people in, and I thought you... I was pissed at you for a long time."

"I know. I really am sorry." Again, more uncomfortable silence. "Just because two years have passed, doesn't mean I don't think you're still gorgeous. You are."

"Does that mean...? You know, between us...?"

You fill in the missing words of her questions on your own.

"I think you're amazing. I think you deserve all the love in the world, as cheesy as that sounds. I think if given another opportunity, we can be something, but I don't think it's right now." Loki pops into your head, and you try to will it away. "I have to figure out my feelings for someone before I try to enter a new relationship. I don't want to string you along or take advantage of you. If we do date, I want you to know you have my whole heart. My heart just isn't whole right now."

"You really know how to let a girl down easy," she chuckles.

"I do really want to be your friend. Do you want to be mine?"

"Yeah," she nods with a smile.

"Good. I can't wait to tell you what I've been up to for the past two years."

"If it has anything to do with what happened in New Mexico, I kind of have an idea." You two walk back inside the bridge to see people running around like they have their heads cut off. "What's going on?"

"We got a hit. Seventy-nine percent match."

"Location?"

"Stuttgart, Germany. He's not exactly hiding."

"Captain. Y/N. You two are up," Fury says. "Y/N, we made a suit for you while you were gone. It might help with the fire and ice powers. Plus, it looks cool."

"Thanks," you say.

You've never had an issue with your clothes burning off whenever you used your fire powers, but it'll be nice to have a uniform like everyone else. It's nice to have someone who cares enough about you to make you one even after being missing for two years. It's very form-fitting but has a material that allows you to move comfortably and breathe properly though. Fury though it was funny to make the colors match your powers... kind of. 

You and Steve arrive in Germany before more people can be killed. Natasha is on standby in the Quinjet just in case she needs to be the big guns. Tony still hasn't shown up to help, and now you're not so confident Phil got through to him. If you know Tony, and you do, then he'll join this team on his terms.

When you fly in, there is a crowd of people at Loki's mercy. They are all kneeling in front of him, and he's put up illusions of himself around the perimeter to keep them in check. Even from where you are in the sky, you can see how much pain he's in. He's broken and angry and someone is manipulating him for their own selfish greed. Everyone around him is quiet as they don't know what he is going to do next, and he holds his arms out, smiling.

"Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel."

An elder German man stands up despite how fearful everyone is of Loki.

"Not to men like you."

"There are no men like me," Loki grins.

"There are always men like you."

"Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example."

Loki raises his scepter to blast the old man back when Steve comes barreling in like a hero. He slams to the ground in front of the old man and deflects the blast from the scepter. The blast ricochets off the shield and back at Loki who crumbles to the ground. You fly in next to Steve but stay in the air with your hands up in flames.

"You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing."

"The Avatar," Loki sneers and looks up at you. "The soldier. A man out of time."

"I'm not the one who's out of time."

Natasha comes swooping down with the Quinjet and a machine gun slides out of the bottom of it and points at Loki.

"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down," she says over the PA system.

Loki blasts the Quinjet but Natasha quickly maneuvers out of the way, giving Steve time to throw the shield at Loki. Loki shoots the shield with the scepter while Steve runs at him at full force. You muster up fireballs and throw them in Loki's direction, causing him to be smart about how he is fighting. Where Loki uses his scepter to fend off Steve, your best friend is using hand-to-hand combat to defeat Loki.

Still, Loki is a much more skilled fighter than Steve is and knocks him down completely. Steve is on his knees with his head bowed and Loki shoves the end of the scepter into his helmet to keep him there.

"Kneel."

"I don't think so," you say from behind Loki.

Loki turns just in time to see the shield coming right at him. You have grabbed it and are now using it to whack some sense into him. You smack the side of the shield into his body and he goes flying off to the side, freeing Steve. You hand him the shield back before walking over to Loki who is just now getting back on his feet. He quickly points the tip of the scepter to your chest to mind control you, but it doesn't go quite according to plan. When the power inside the scepter collides with the power inside you, it explodes as if they aren't meant to be mixing together. You and Loki go flying back, and you hit your head on the concrete.

Steve rushes at Loki but the God grabs your friend and tosses him to the side like he's a ragdoll. Natasha comes swooping in to try and help, but Loki has cast a bunch of illusions to make it more difficult for her to figure out which is the real him.

Suddenly, the loudspeaker on the Quinjet roars to life, and ACDC's Shoot to Thrill starts playing loudly. That can only mean one thing. Tony comes flying in like the hero he is and blasts Loki away with the repulsor on his chest. Loki smacks the stairs leading up to a building. That is enough to take him down, especially when Tony aims everything he's got at the God.

"Make your move, Reindeer Games." Loki puts his hands up in surrender, and his golden armor shimmers away. "Good move."

"Hey, Tony," you say and join the duo.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know, had to come back."

"I thought you were dead."

"I'm not."

"I can see that."

"Mr. Stark," Steve says.

"Captain."

Loki is taken as a prisoner onto the Quinjet. With him in custody, Fury wants him back at the Helicarrier as soon as possible. Natasha is piloting the aircraft, Steve and Tony are whispering to each other by the cockpit like school girls, and you're sitting next to Loki on the side... just staring at him. He can't seem to look you in the eyes now that he's forced to be with you. He can't take the heat of you burning holes in his head.

"Y/N..."

"Shut up," you immediately cut him off. "Fuck you."

He looks into your eyes, and much like before, your reality is swirling into the past.

Asgard is known for many things, but the one thing they love to uphold is their annual balls where they invite everyone in the kingdom to come and celebrate in the castle. People of all classes show up to enjoy good food and delicious wine, and to laugh among their peers. The royal family can get so many things wrong, but this is one thing that everyone looks forward to.

You obviously don't have any clothes since everything you own is back on Xenia, but Loki pulled something out of a closet that is just your size. It's a beautiful gown that reaches your feet. Even in the heels he's given you, your feet are barely visible. The color is a dark forest green that doesn't puff out like most ball gowns. While it does have a bit of volume, it's relatively close to your body. The straps are ones that you tie together like a bow, and the top of the dress is covered with even darker-colored rhinestones that seem to drip down as if it's melting.

It's perfect for someone who is Loki's date.

Once you're done getting ready, you walk over to Loki's room to see if he is. You knock once and enter without waiting for his permission. He is facing the floor-length mirror in an all-black suit including the undershirt. The jacket he's wearing over it is unbuttoned so that you can see how form-fitting the undershirt is. He is working on his tie that he can't seem to get right away. When he does, he buttons up the rest of his jacket to complete the look.

His eyes shift from his task to you, and his breath is taken away. You walk closer to him until he is forced to turn to face you in order to see things more clearly.

"You look very handsome," you grin and wrap your arms around his neck.

"You look stunning. Absolutely ravishing."

His blue eyes shine brightly against the darkness of his suit.

You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out. You shake your head in disappointment and leave his side. Steve knows how overwhelming this is for you and welcomes you into his arms. You look over at Loki to see him watching you with careful eyes.

x

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[scavengerssuccotash]

How was their first time (together)? Was it a heat of the moment thing or more thought out?

Ohh tough one!

I flip flop one this one all the time!

I love the raw crazed sexiness of it being a heat of the moment kind of thing. Maybe it’s after a difficult mission early on in their partnership and Nat refused a direct order from Clint or neglectfully put her life in a precarious situation and they’re having a heated argument when one of them snaps! It’s like two supernovas colliding into each other. Explosive. Hot. And fraught with tension. Objects are swept off surfaces with an arm, fabric tears beneath impatient fingers, buttons leap from their bodies and skip across the floor—

Oh yes! I do love the raw passion of a heat of the moment.

On the other hand…

I think Clint would be far more careful in his advances. He’s acutely aware of Natasha’s past, and as such is oh so cautious in tip-toeing around his blossoming affection. And really let’s be honest here: Sex doesn’t scare our Black Widow, but attachment, nay emotional weight, absolutely terrifies her. She knows, but perhaps doesn’t want to admit it, that when Clint turns down her misguided proposition that sex in any capacity with him isn’t just sex.

So you have these two people who are orbiting around each other, longing for a connection that is what they believe is so far out of their emotional depth that they’re forced to simply wait. Of course, it doesn’t stop them from reaching out to test the lines they’ve drawn in the sand between them. Much like a kid who is curious about the flickering flame of a candle, they’re dangerously tempted, only to flinch away from the heat.

They grow bolder with time, and comfort and soon cautious glances give way to long lingering looks. Her eyes stay fixed on his hands as he cleans his bow, which he definitely notices and repays her attention with crude phallic mimicry.

Yeah, that’s how I do it, with a twist over the top. Did you notice?

Oh, he’s very naughty, our Clint!

Natasha’s not one to take it laying down however and serves her revenge extra hot. She allows Clint to zip her up on the most elaborate dresses she can find, all with buttery soft fabrics that cling to her curves they way a fine wine stains lips. And Clint looks. Of course he looks! His eyes drip down the length of her spine. He doesn’t miss the tease of thin fragile lace, nor the color. She’s thorough, his partner, in her research. Not many people know that purple is his favorite color.

Of course this is all set up, the teasing, the back and forth. They’re testing each others resolves in the only way they know how until they finally (finally!) come to the conclusion that they will without out a doubt have sex.

But where? How? When?

Questions like these, and their answers are fertile ground for verbal and physical foreplay. It’s the first time not in the mechanics of sex, on what goes where and how, but in how to be vulnerable and raw with someone in a very sensual and caring way. Which is something that I find absolutely riveting when it comes to these two.

Which is why I’ve opted for this route for my fic Sightline!

I have a particular scene in mind where our beloved archer shows Natasha exactly what the difference is between fuckin and making love. I cannot wait to write it.

So, TLDR (because I’m a wordy bitch): they toyed with each other for a while, hinted around it, made up their minds and then proceeded to wreck the fuck out of a hotel room in Santa Monica. Best of both worlds!!

You get pining, longing, sexy word-play, and a hot fuck all in one go!

Super engaging ask, I quite enjoyed answering it so thank you for asking!!

[purple--queen]

Note: This belongs in the category: Things i have on my phone & would sink to the ground. Sunday night. short & sweet. nail polish. boys in love. It's just some domestic sweet shit.

Pairing: Clint/Marc

Warnings: none. Maybe bad grammatic and some words might be spelled wrong. I am to lazy to translate it.

It's sunday night.

Which means cheap beer. Cheap pizza. And bad reality TV. Marc dosen't know how they ended up like that, but he does not complain about it. He likes it. He likes the stupid domestic feeling. He likes that he feel like a normal dude, who can have a normal life and a normal relationship.

Well, so normal it can get, when one of them is fighting aliens doing the day time and the other fights vampires at nights.

But it works. It works horrific well.

"Which color?", Clint asks and holds up to bottles of nailpolish which looks exactly the same. He went through this with Marlene sometimes. She didn't wear nailpolish that often, but when she did she aksed him and was always annoyed, when he couldn't see the difference between the reds or the blues.

"And before you say anything. These are two different colors", Clint explains and Marc doubts it. They're both purple. Sure not as dark as the last purple Clint had on his nails, but still purple. "This looks good", he says and points at the bottle in Clint right hand. "You don't see the differnece huh?". It's a joking tone. Marlene would have rolled her eyes and saying something about men who don't care.

It is not, that he does not care.

He just doesn't matter.

He likes Clint hands no matter what color his fingernails are.

"It's both purple", Marc says and shrunks with his shoulders. "I don't blame you for not seeing it-", smiles clint. "i mean for a dude who is just wearing white 90 prozent of the time. It must be hard, to see it. Give me your hands"

And without even thinking about it Marc holds his hands toward Clint. Their is a ringing in his head, that feels familiar, but he just shakes it away. Khonshu isn't in his head anymore and he don't allow any throught about it.

Clint opens the first bottle and starts carefully to paint his nail. Their is a concentrated look in his eyes, that he normally has when he has a target to aim. Or when there is a dog he wants to pet.

It is a wierd feeling. He can feel that there is something on his nail and he wants to itch it away. It feels odd and he wonders if this feeling fades away. Clint never seems to care about that feeling. But Clint does this for a long time now, so probally he doesn't feel it anymore.

The first nail is done. Clint cloeses the bottle and opens the other one. He starts painting the other index finger. Again it is painited carefully. A calm hand and a focusing look. It flatters him, that Clint is doing his best to make it look good, even if he is going to wash it off the moment they have discussed the whole difference thing.

"And now we wait until it is dry" Clint smiles happyly and pleased with his work. "How long?" "Just a few minutes. You can shake your hands to make it faster", say Clint laughing and Marc rolles his eyes, but their is a small smirk on his face.

They start to watch the TV, with Clint complaining about the Bachelors bad decisions. By the end of the episode Clint says that he never wants to watch it again. They both know he don't mean it. He says it everytime and every Sunday he is watching it again.

"Lets see", says Clint and Marc holds up his hands. "Thats so pretty", Clint smiles and Marc sees it now. It's not a huge difference between these two, but it's enough to see it. "This one", he says wickels with his right hand. Clint smiles happyly and Marc wants to melt.

This all feels so unreal. Like a dream and at some point he will wake up in an empty bed, blood on his hands because he hadn't the energy to clean it, after coming home. He knows this won't last. He knows that Clint thinks the same. They're both terrible with relationships. But they try their best.

He watches Clint paining his own nails. The same concentrated look on his face, he had, when he did Marcs. "You want to help?", Clint asks, after finishing the left hand and gives him the bottle, without even waiting for an answer. "This won't look good", Marc complains but starts paining the thumb. "Don't worry. You can't fuck this up. I will clean it, if you color over the line", Clint laughs. "Oh good. This takes out the pressure", Marc answers. "When i started to help the girls in the circus, i would always put to much on the brush and i would hit the skin. It needed a lot of practis to get the right feeling for it."

"Of course you learned this for the girls", Marc says amusing. "Well their weren't a lot of boys who did this. I had to deal with what i was given" "Did it worked" "Well Mimi always gave me a kiss on the cheeks when i was done" "Sounds like it worked"

Clint has to fix some things and he has to clean of the polish from the skin. But their is a smile on his face that Marc wants to keep their. "You did good", says Clint happyly. "Thanks i tried my best", Marc smiles and closes the bottle.

Clint leans forward and presses a kiss on his cheek.

"Charmer".

[oldfangirl81]

So I have this idea for a Teen Wolf/Marvel crossover that has been bouncing around in my head since around '19. The only concrete ship I had was eventual WinterHawk. But the Young Avengers were going to mix with the Teen Wolf crew so lots of possibilities. This would take place in S1 of Teen Wolf. I do have casting pics on my laptop because even Kate hadn't been confirmed yet if memory serves when I started writing. I know America definitely wasn't or Patriot.

Clint cursed hitting his head yet again on the shelf in the back of his closet. He really needed to fix that as his brain probably couldn’t take much more damage and he managed to hit it every single time. The option would be find a different place to hid some of his weapons but that would be too logical. Moving quickly Clint continued to shove items into two different purple colored duffel bags. It was for the best that Tony didn’t know about these particular weapons. It would cause too many questions.

“Clint, where are you? Lucky and I are back.” But as he walked into the room Bucky paused spotting the last weapon Clint as shoving into his bag. “What is going on? Where are you going? Steve didn’t say anything about a mission when we passed in the hallway.”

“Hey, yeah, want to pretend you didn’t see me shoving weapons in a duffel bag?”

Bucky just stared at Clint with a raised eyebrow.

“Look, it isn’t a mission. Just something personal I need to do. Nothing for you to worry about,” Clint tried his best to give off an air of innocence.

Bucky got a slight hurt look at hearing something personal requiring weapons was happening and Clint didn’t ask him. Bucky had really thought they were starting to get closer. Steve certainly teased him enough about his obvious crush on the archer.

“You have clearly been hanging out with my dog too much given the puppy dog eyes you are giving me right now. Look it is seriously complicated. Like seriously complicated,” giving a heavy sigh Clint stared at the other man trying to figure out how best to break certain things to Bucky.

“Does the complication have anything to do with creatures who howl at a full moon?”

“You know about weres?”Clint’s mouth dropped in shock. The supernatural world kept away from SHIELD as much as a possible. To extent most agents never even knew it existed. There was a small division of a couple of agents who worked strictly with supernatural issues.

“Huh, guess Steve never told you why we decided on the name the Howling Commandos. That is a story for another day. What is going on, Clint?”

“Don’t think I won’t be asking about that. Look, I met this pair of siblings a few years ago. The majority of their family had just been wiped out by hunters who didn’t follow the rules. I took out the ones that followed them to New York. They went back to their hometown recently. The problem is I haven’t heard from either of them since they reached the town. I’m concerned other hunters may have finished the job. So I’m using vacation that I never take to go check on the situation.”

“Do I have time to pack before the flight?”

“First, of all a SHIELD jet is dropping me off on the way to Hawaii. Second, you are not coming with. There needs to be an adult here to keep an eye on the kids.”

“Steve is here. So is Sam. They can take over the training for a bit. I’m going with you, Barton. End of story. I thought Steve and Stark were the only ones I needed to lecture on bringing proper back up. Now where are we going so I know what to pack?” Bucky crossed his arms giving Clint a stare down that he had no chance of winning.

"Beacon Hills in northern California."

"Hale Pack territory?"

[brooooswriting]

id like to request kate bishop x reader. they’re friends and kate comes to reader after getting injured and she is all worried and patches kate up and kate is wondering why she’s so worried and feelings are revealed and they get together and kiss and it’s just cute and fluffy (:

Bestie

You and Kate have been friends for a while, you’ve been at nearly all of her archery events, you’ve been there when she destroyed the tower and you were the first person she called when she met Hawkeye. You, of course, were unbelievable happy for her, she now had a real chance of becoming an Avenger but you’ve never been more scared.

For you Kate was everything and the thought of her getting hurt killed you every night. But hey, you were just the best friend. All you could do was sit there and help her when she was hurt.

Which led to now. She sat on your couch with scratches and blood all over her face. Her suit was ripped at various places and even more blood soaked through the purple fabric turning it a dark brownish red color.

You tried to keep your tears in as you ran trough your flat to find your stuff. When you finally returned you had some tears running down your face but you continued nonetheless. You were dabbing her face with a cotton drenched in Disinfectant to clean the wound before putting band aid on it. “Now pull off your cloths so I can look at the rest of your wounds” your voice wasn’t even nearly stable as you helped her stand up. “What’s wrong y/n/n?” She asked as she pulled down the top of her suit revealing some deeper wounds. “Is that a freaking stab wound?!” You kinda screamed. “Wow calm down.. it’s not as bad as it looks ok? I’m fine” she tried to convince you as you got out some needles and other stuff to sew the wound.

“You’re Fine? You fucking need Stitches Kate!!! Stiches… You should be happy my parents force me to enroll in medicine!” You hissed while getting ready to do the stitches. “Y/n, I’m ok. What is the problem? Aren’t you happy that I’m an avenger? Or that I could at least be one? I fought some really bad guys today, they got Clint so I went to save him. It didn’t go as planned but you know what does go as planned? Nothing right?! So, and then I went…” Kate kept rambling on while you did your best not to hurt her.

“We’re all done, you should go take a shower. Have you eaten anything really today?” She mumbled a no making you shake your head and sigh. “Go shower” you demanded before walking into the kitchen. You quickly fixed some pasta and a drink before also getting some ice packs.

She came back down in sleepwear she always left at yours and wet hair. She looked as beautiful as ever to you even with all the bandaids and bruises in her face.

She settled on the couch as you gave her the food and her drink. “You really are a lifesaver. I wouldn’t know what I’d do without you” she said placing one of her hands on your thigh. You only mumbled a mhm staring into the distance.

“You should go to bed. I’ll take the couch” you said as you brought the plate in the kitchen and started to wash it. “What? That’s crazy. We always sleep in the same bed, why not now? I don’t like sleeping alone after stuff like that you know that… so what’s wrong that you don’t want to sleep in the same bed?” She asked concerned as she stood behind you. “I just don’t feel like it alright?” She nodded before making her way upstairs. What you didn’t see were the tears that were streaming down her face and her concerned look.

So here you were sleeping on your couch, well trying to sleep. Not only was the couch extremely uncomfortable but you also couldn’t really sleep without Kate after a mission like that. But you had to distance yourself if you wanted to survive this.

The archer also laid awake in your bed but soon decided that this was stupid. There was clearly something wrong so why wouldn’t you tell her? She decided to make her way downstairs to see if you were also awake. She approached the couch as quietly as she could until she saw that you’re awake.

“Hi, also can’t sleep huh?” She asked as she laid down behind you on the couch spooning you. You hated how it made your heart swoon and even more how you needed this. “Yeah…” it was barely a whisper as it left your mouth. “What is wrong? You’re hiding something and you shouldn’t. We always tell each other everything and I have the feeling that it’s hurting you. And even worse I have the feeling that it has something to do with me, so please just tell me. I can handle it. I promise.” You kept quiet first until she pressed her face into the back of your neck and pulled you even closer. You put your hand on top of the one that was on your waist before speaking. “Katie, it’s going to make things worse” you said stroking her hand. “No it will not. Just tell me. It hurts me to see you hurt” she insisted making you sigh.

“I hate to see you come here hurt every damn day. It hurts and I’m so damn scared. But I can’t say anything about it because I’m just your stupid best friend. I’m so scared that you’re going to get killed out there and I haven’t even had the chance to tell you how much I want to be with you! And so I’m sitting here every night hoping to see you in front of my door alive. It feels terrible. Especially because I know that you’ll be the greatest avenger ever, no matter what your stupid mom says, but it’s getting too much” you finally confessed and by now you were crying.

“Oh y/n why didn’t you tell me earlier? I can’t stop being me but I would very much like you as the girl I’ll come home to every night” she said which shocked you. The long pause scared Kate making her think that she misunderstood your whole monologue. “I mean only if that is what you want, I just thought you know, we like each other so this could be great. We do like each other right?”

“As Long as I’m the girl you’ll stay alive for in every mission that’s totally fine with me” you spoke out as you turned around to face her. “So you’re my girl now right?” She questioned nervously. She let out a ‘sweet’ which caused you to giggle. “Now kiss me you fool”

And oh boy, she did kiss you. She kissed you like no one has ever before. It wasn’t just a kiss it was a complete and signed love confession from the one and only Kate Bishop. “Clint is gonna be so happy about this” she grinned causing you to raise a questioning eyebrow. “The whole time I was only ever talking about you, the way you make me feel and how I want you to be mine. And now you finally are” she explained and kissed you again making you melt into her. “Only yours”

The next time Kate came home with way less injuries and Clint as she wanted her idol to meet the love of her life.

Kates life was finally going great, she didn’t need a supportive mom or a great college degree. She was going to be an avenger, she was friends with her role model and even more important she now had Y/n Y/l/n forever by her side.

I hope you have a great day :)

[unholyhelbig]

Natasha doctor fluff??

Summary: When Natasha is tasked with babysitting a young Lila, accidents are inevitable. She meets a charming young doctor in the heat of the moment.

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[A/n: Me vs trashing the front staff in medical offices when I quite literally run the front staff at a medical office.]

The text message from Clint flashed across Natasha’s screen as her muscles screamed in protest to an early rising. She held her smartphone in one hand, gripping it as she rounded the corner in the park. It was a hot day, stifling, almost. An obscure playlist blasted through headphones and sweat dripped down the small of her back.

She slowed to a trot, panting as she read the message. Clint and Laura were expected in Florida last minute for Laura’s mother, an injury, perhaps. He didn’t’ type of details. Instead, he asked if she could watch Lila.

Natasha took a few breaths, trying to catch herself. She couldn’t say no to Clint, could she? I mean, she loved Lila but figured herself as more of an ‘other people’s kids’ person. Lila was so fragile, just passing the mile marker of a year. But Clint and Laura were also two of her best friends, who had a last-minute babysitter cancellation.

Before she could overthink it, Natasha responded with a simple agreeance before continuing the second half of her run. She moved her legs faster this time, finishing at record speed fueled by babysitting fear.

She showered quickly, pulling her hair back and taking the short drive out to the farm that Clint and Laura shared together. The sounds of the city eventually fell away and were replaced by rolling green hills and horses that flicked their tails lazily at flies. 

Natasha could see the appeal, though she had scolded Clint when he first announced his intention to moonlight as a family man while continuing his employment with the Avengers. She lived on both sides of his double life and did so expertly.

Still, the spy in her made sure she wasn’t being followed before easing into the drive. She was at the farmhouse in no time, breathing in the crisp and clean air. She pulled open the screen door and knocked three times. She could do this- Lila was a piece of cake.

“Nat,” Laura opened the door, sweeping her into a hug “Thank you so much for this. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Clint was pulling on his black suit jacket. He cleaned up nice, and so did Laura. The two were to attend a Stark party that Natasha had squeezed out of graciously. Laura straightened his dark purple tie with a wary smile.

“What he means, is we’re appreciative.”

When Laura handed Lila over to her, Natasha quickly adhered the one-year-old to her side. She was informed that lunch had already been served, and dinner had been set aside entirely for Natasha to struggle with later. Sugar packets seemed to be of more interest to her than anything else actually edible.

Toys had been set aside, and essentially the only thing that Natasha had to do was make sure no fires were started and sit through a bunch of horrible children’s cartoons completed with flashing colors and tedious songs.

“Alright, kid, looks like it’s just me and you.” She said, lowering herself onto one side of the sofa, bouncing the pudgy kid on her knee. “You’re not so scary, are you?”

To prove her point, Lila stumbled through the word “Natty” and giggled at the noise. Natasha smiled back and brushed the hair from the girl's eyes before plopping her down in the small pen that Laura had created. Lila was at the stage where she wanted to explore everything, just learning to walk but not quite sure of herself in the movements.

Clint’s mind was usually on pizza, and on his way out the door, he told her about the leftovers. Not something she was particularly craving but something that would quell her stomach. This would be easy; she was prepared for this.

Just as she lifted a slice to her mouth, she heard a dull thud and the inevitable screeching cry she knew would follow. When Nat dropped her food and sprung around the corner, her socks slipping on wood, she was greeted with the sight of blood.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Blood, she was used to, she had patched herself up enough times to not get queasy at the sight. Lila couldn’t see her panic, it would work her up more. The gash was large and spewing red, and Nat grabbed the closest hand towel before scooping the girl into her arms and applying pressure. This would need stitches. Stitches that the Widow wasn’t equipped to administer.

“You’re okay, it’s okay.” She cooed, “I need you to hold that there for me, okay, sweetie?”

Lila sniffed hard but had calmed down to small whimpers by the time Nat had loaded her up into her car seat and plugged in the closest hospital. It was a solid fifteen minutes- damn country living.

She didn’t’ mind the speed limit, putting to use her SHIELD driving skills as she skidded into the Emergency Room parking lot. She loaded little Lila into her arms, resuming her old on the crimson-soaked towel.

 It took every inch of her resolve not to throw the clipboard that she was handed back at the receptionist when it was given. Instead, she situated Lila next to her and pressed the pen hard against the wooden board. Where was the sense of urgency here? Couldn’t they see a little human was bleeding out with a panicked godmother? Natasha felt dizzy.

“Do you need some water?” Your voice met her softly.

“What… I” She glanced at Lila, and then at the woman in front of her, stunningly distracting and dawned in a set of dark blue scrubs. Her shoes were speckled with brown blood, the scent of generic soap filling Nat’s lungs. “I’m okay.”

“What happened here?” You leaned kneeled down in front of a small girl, soft brown hair that probably looked blonde in the sun. She was holding herself together relatively well, letting you gently move the towel from the laceration. “Oh, that is quite the shiner. What do you say we get you both back to a room.”

“ouch,” Lila said, pointing to her cut.

“Paperwork,” Natasha croaked, waving the board dismissively.

You said, “Paperwork be damned.”

The doctor leads the two of them down a long, white, and sterile. The further they walked, the friendlier it became. White linoleum faded to warm wood floors. There were different safari animals painted on every wall, holding GET WELL SOON signs.

Lila pointed to a drawn giraffe with an infectious smile on her face. It mirrored the stuffed animal that she was sent home with and momentarily distracted her from the inevitable throbbing in her temple.

Natasha couldn’t help but stare as you walked with a certain type of authority that she found attractive. In fact, when she calmed her thoughts during the walk, she found a lot of things appealing. Though, she wouldn't admit that a woman in scrubs was appealing. It was somehow quieter than the tactical suits that she had to dawn along with everyone around her.

When they got to the room, it was equally decked out in jungle décor. Lila took an instant liking to a small monkey stuffed animal but clung harder to Natasha when she tried to set the girl down on the wax paper.

“I feel like we’re breaking some rules here.” Natasha said.

You looked over your shoulder, flicking on the faucet, a heart-stopping smile on your face. “Not too many of them. There should be some haste with lacerations that the front staff just doesn’t comprehend sometimes.”

Natasha nodded, even though you couldn’t see it. You finished washing your hands, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. Lila pressed her cold nose closer to the crook of her neck, but she eventually gave up the grip when the monkey she was eyeing was exchanged for compliance.

Natasha knew that she should be focused on the small child that she hadn’t watched closely enough. But she watched you in wonder. You were gentle with your words, talking in terms that were calming to Lila. She successfully cleaned the wound with kindly movements.

You caught the woman with startling juniper eyes staring. A thrill rushed through you, mouth dry as you grasped at the supplies on the small medical tray. Your thoughts went fuzzy for a moment, and you blinked to keep your head clear.

“Good news, miss Lila,” You said, focusing your attention on the woman “No stitches. Just a little bit of glue.”

“Glue, I should have thought of that,” Natasha said.

“Experience in the field?”

“Some. More combat training than anything. I didn’t think this little one would take too well to my methods.”

Lila let out a small noise at the cold adhesive and reached blindly for Natasha’s hand, breathing out when her fingers wrapped around the Widows. You watched the interaction closely, settling a bandage over the small laceration.

“All good as new,” You smiled, and Natasha’s knees felt weak at your tenderness “You can keep the monkey too.”

“Monkey?” Lila asked, beaming at the two women.

“Monkey.”

You confirmed, pushing back from the table. You removed your gloves, a coppery orange with blood, careful not to let Lila see them. She hugged the monkey tighter, burrowing her nose into the fur of the stuffed animal.

Swallowing back your pride, you walked towards the nearby countertop, scribbling something against the paper. “And you, Miss-“

“Romanoff. Natasha, you can call me Nat.”

“Nat,”

Emboldened, you folded up a stray piece of paper, pulling a few gauze patches from the cabinet. You turned back to her. Nat’s stare trailed you up and down, taking in the tone of your arms and the kindness in your eyes. “Make sure you change her dressings every six hours. I prescribed some general pain reliever, bubblegum flavor.”

Finally, you handed her the folded piece of paper, cheeks an enflamed pink color. “If you have any questions, this is my personal number. Of course… If you don’t have any questions, you can still call.”

Natasha’s mouth was dry. Lila made a sound akin to something a monkey would make, petting the creature's head. She had a second, a small and timid one, so smile at the ground and laughed. She took the folded piece of paper.

“Thank you. I’m sure I’ll have questions.” She reached down and scooped Lila up. “It was nice to meet you, Doctor.”

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[chelleztjs18]

Villain (W.M)

Wanda Maximoff x Avengers!Fem!Reader.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Avengers!Fem!Reader. Platonic with other Avengers.

Summary: Wanda has to keep her promise no matter how much she hates it.

Warning: Angst, swearing words.

A/n: This is for THBB drabble Wednesday with a prompt "I think that's the hardest part for me...knowing you're not the villain of my story." Thank you @stonemaxx for the idea. Happy reading!

“Y/n! Please stop! Don’t let them control you!” Wanda tries to bring yourself back from the HYDRA influence in your mind while throwing small weak energy balls at you to stop you. She doesn’t want to hurt you, she never would. She loves you. You hit her hard enough that sent her to quite a distance.

Clint and Natasha hit you again and again but you manage to hit them back. You swept Natasha's feet and she fell on her back. You throw Clint to the wall hard and knock him out then you break his bow and arrow with ease. You raise a huge heavy chunk of cement wall with your power, as you are about to smash it to the injured Natasha who lays weakly on the ground, Iron Man shot it with his small missiles and broke it into pieces before it reached to smash her.

Then you walk towards Bucky who is running to your direction to fight you again after getting beaten up by you earlier. Captain America reaches you from the back and choke you with his arm from behind. Bucky hits you straight to your stomach while both of your hands try to loosen the Captain’s chokehold.

Wanda gets up from the ruins your power sent her to. She stands up with a groan of pain as the effect of your attack on her earlier. “Y/n, please. Don’t make me do this. Fight it. You are the only one who can control your own mind.” Once again the brunette witch tries her best to remind you. You look at her as soon as you hear her voice. Your eyes light up with purple color. A bunch of big sharp ice shows up out of nowhere then you throw them at Wanda before you pull Steve from the back and slam him onto the ground. You hit him mercilessly as he tries to cover himself with his shield. It hurts her heart that she can’t see your loving eyes like she always does. You are far under Hydra’s influence and control.

“Fucking hell, y/n! Your girlfriend just talked to you, you better listen to her.” said the Iron Man as he grabs your fist and hits you again. Natasha jumps on your shoulder and tries to wrap you your neck and punch you multiple times. "Come on, y/n. We don't want to fight you. Just knock it off, will you?" said the Russian assassin. Then a metal bar comes out from the ground and you control it to grab her off of you and throw her. It distracts Tony who was about to fight you back and fly to catch her.

“Maximofff, can’t you do the mind thingy with her to bring her mind back so she will stop attacking us? This is getting nowhere.” Tony desperately asks Wanda through the COMM. “I tried but it didn’t work.” Wanda answers as she is busy protecting herself from the ice that nearly kills her a few times. Then she throws her red balls of magic power at you to distract you from fighting Bucky and Steve.

"Then we had no choice Wanda. You have to do it. That's the only solution for this." Steve kicks you to buy himself some time.

All of a sudden the Avengers see that you look angrier as if someone is even controlling your emotion. "Oh shit. That doesn't look good." Natasha comments.

In a flash, your power wraps every single Avengers there including Wanda tightly trying to crush and suffocate them. Everybody floats in the air, groaning in such agony. "Wanda! You have to do it now or we are all dead!" Tony struggles to talk.

"Y/n, would've wanted you to keep your promise to her." Steve encourages her. Wanda is frozen by her memories. A vivid image of you and the sound of your voice when you made her promise. A promise that she will never want to keep. She hated it when you asked her. Now she hates it even more that she has to keep her promise. It hurts and breaks her heart

She is mad at you because you want her to kill you if Hydra ever comes back and controls your mind to be their killing weapon again.

"My work is almost done here after killing every one of you." You said in sinister and laugh maniacally, totally opposite than who you truly are. You would never hurt the Avengers, they are your family and Wanda is your love.

As the air is running low in everybody's lungs, time is ticking. Sadness tore her chest, it felt like a knife to her heart. Despair shredded her heart raw. Tears pooled in her eyes. Her gaze flicks around from the view of dying teammates, you, and the sharp metal on the broken wall.

"I'm sorry, y/n. I'm so sorry." Her voice breaks as she tries to tell you even though she knows you can't hear it. "I'm sorry." Red magic color takes over Wanda's eyes. Red wisps of magic quickly cover you and she uses her power to fight you back. It almost looks like a strong mini explosion that blasts you and throws you straight to the wall.

Your breath hitch as soon as it stabs you through. She heard it and can almost feel what you feel. Your eyes are no longer purple. Everybody falls down after Hydra's influence left your mind.

Wanda gently floats you down onto her lap and she quickly hugs you as if her life depends on it. "Y/n! I'm sorry.. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I had to do this." Your calm eyes colors look at hers. She misses those eyes. It warms and hurts her heart at the same time. She knows she's losing you.

"W-wanda." Her name struggles to escape your lips. "Y/n, I'm so sorry." Her throat thickened with sobs. "It's okay, Wanda." You patch a smile weakly. "I was a villain, you–you did the right thing." You add as you raise your hand and wipe her tears. Her lips quivered.

"I think that's the hardest part for me…knowing you are not the villain of my story." Wanda whispers to you in her cry. "I love you, Wanda." Her green eyes look into your eyes that are slowly turning lifeless, your soul is no longer there at the same time you took your last breath.

Wanda hugs you tight and rocking back and forth while she is sobbing her heart out. Grief and loss tore her into pieces.

You are never a villain to her. You are her love.

a/n: I hope you like it! Reblogs, likes, comments, and feedbacks are always appreciated. Follow me for more! Thanks!

Cheerio!

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[mhysa-leesi]

𝕄𝕣𝕤. 𝔸𝕝𝕝-𝔸𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕟

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers 𝒳 (femme) Reader ⭐.

Summary: “Steve Rogers deserves nothing less than an All-American Apple Pie Life, with his Miss America. And he’ll stop at nothing to have it.” 

Word Count: 3,472 

TW‼: Drugging, Kidnapping, Non-Con, Smut, Minor Stockholm Syndrome, Minor Misogynistic Themes, and 1940′s Housewife Themes. 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI‼

AN: This story contains adult and dark themes, please do not proceed if you are under the age of 18 or if ANY of these warnings upset you! I am not responsible for your media consumption–you and only you are. 𝒯𝒽𝒶𝓃𝓀 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 

AN Cont.:  If you or anyone you know has been a victim of sexual violence, please reach out for help. I do not condone ANY of the actions described in this story, this is merely a work of FICTION. 

Steve Rogers is a hero who’s sacrificed so much for the greater good of the world. He’s been fighting his entire life, a constant cycle of getting knocked down, just to get back up and do it all again the next day. A constant blur of black and blue, of broken bones, and bloodied knuckles. Steve didn’t complain too often, he enjoyed waking up every morning and saving the world. He was grateful for the life he led, a life of justice and liberty. So, why did he feel so unfulfilled? Unaccomplished? Incomplete?

Steve would catch himself daydreaming during briefings, dreaming of his childhood. He dreamt about Coney Island, about the smell of popcorn, and the sticky feel of melting popsicles on his fingers. He was stuck in the past and he knew it, maybe he truly was “The Man Out of Time”. He’d journal his thoughts, sketching his memories in charcoal and faded colors. Mostly he’d sketch faces of his past, but there has only been one face as of late that lived within the thick pages. (Y/N). The newest Avenger, his Miss America.

He found himself fantasizing about her with every gentle curve of his pencil, imagining it was his hands running over her hips and not his graphite. The front of his jeans tightened as he shaded her breasts, and he wondered if they were as soft and supple as he made them look on paper. He captured her eyes, adding that sparkle and depth that seemed to become her. Her hair, the unruly hairs, and the ones always perfectly in place. He colored her skin, his heart skipping as he imagined running his lips over the skin of her thighs. Her star-spangled leotard left little to the imagination, so Steve found other things to imagine. The sound of her moans and whimpers, how she’d look as he took her apart one lick and thrust at a time, and how she’d look with him dripping from in-between her legs.

Steve groaned as he threw down his pencil, running his graphite-stained hands over his face in frustration before closing his sketchbook with a soft thump. He needed a distraction--and a cold shower…

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Today was Lila, Clint’s daughter’s birthday, and all of the Avengers were invited to the festivities. Steve sat next to Bucky, both of them donning bright pink party hats with the words “Happy Birthday” on them in glitter swirls. Bucky was telling Steve about a girl he had recently met at some café or something--truth be told Steve wasn’t listening to his best friend. His attention was elsewhere, across the room, to be exact.

You were in a green tonal dress that perfectly complemented your skin tone, with puff sleeves and floral print. Steve was entranced as he watched you bounce baby Nathaniel on your hip. And he watched as the baby babbled and yanked your hair, making you laugh and wince as you handed him back to his mother. He knew at that moment what he had been missing, what he had been deprived of--what he had deserved after all this time. A family, a white-picket fence… You.

It all suddenly made sense as if he had just completed a puzzle he’d been working on since he woke up from the ice. That was what he wanted--no… It was what he needed, what he deserved. All of his life he had made sacrifice after sacrifice, the world owed him this one thing, and he’d have it. No matter the cost.

You were perfect. A nice girl with a strong head on your shoulders and a good heart, who better to start a life with? There was no question, you’d be his wife, the mother of his children. You’d see it in time, but he couldn’t wait for you. He was a man out of time, after all…

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It had been almost a month since his revelation, but it was all due in good time. He had made the arrangements, he had been meticulous in his planning. He made sure to get every single detail right, his and your future depended on his perfection. The trap had been set, now he just needed to go hunting for his prey.

You were just coming back from training with Natasha, your skin sheen with sweat and kissed with soft purple bruises from sparring with the Widow. You were laughing at something she had said, giving Steve a small wave before making your way to the communal fridge. He patiently watched as you grabbed your water bottle, your name written in sharpie with stickers on the front. He fidgeted as you took three big gulps, smacking your lips as water dribbled down your chin and onto your chest.

Steve watched as you made your way to your bedroom, he smiled as he noticed a slight stumble in your steps. The drug took faster than he had expected. He waited until he heard the click of the closing door, but it never came. Like a silent shadow, he crept down the hall to the threshold of your room. You were splayed out on the edge of your bed, legs dangling, and your hair a mess.

He couldn’t help himself. He nudged your arm for a response and nothing; you were out cold. A dangerous smirk crossed his face as he knelt down above you, his shadow consuming you in every delicious way possible. He touched your cheek, tracing down to your jaw, and up to your lips. They were so soft, so plump, and oh, so kissable. He tasted you then, molding his lips to yours in a one-sided dance. Steve shivered as he explored your unconscious body, he groped, squeezed, and tasted your salty skin.

He stopped himself. He only had three hours to move you, six tops if his hunch about you skipping breakfast that morning was right. So, he picked up your unconscious body and began the next steps to his plan…

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When you awoke your limbs were stiff and mind foggy. You stretched away the stiffness and rolled onto your side, blindly reaching for your bottle of water. When your hand failed to meet your nightstand, you froze. What the hell? Confused, you reached out again; telling yourself you just misjudged the distance. But when your hand once again met an empty space, you sat up with a start. You looked around the unfamiliar bedroom. The walls were striped, the floor a godawful floral carpet, and the bed had a wooden frame and a blue blanket tucked into the corners. You blinked, thinking that this room would magically melt into your bedroom at the Tower, and when it remained the same, you blinked again for good measure. You stood on shaky legs and looked around the room once more, disbelief clouding your better judgment. The bedroom looked straight out of a 1940’s catalog.

When the lock on the bedroom door jiggled, you whirled around with your fists raised to meet your captor. You were prepared to see a HYDRA Agent or some other villain with a vendetta against you. What you weren’t prepared for was Steve Rogers. He stood dressed in his old military uniform, his hair neatly combed, and his face clean-shaven.

“Steve? What’s going on?” you asked.

“What do you mean?”

What do I mean? “This,” you gesture wildly with your hands in disbelief, “Where are we?”

“Home,” he said calmly.

“Whose home?”

“Ours, honey,”

You narrowed your eyes at the man before you. This couldn’t be your Steve Rogers, this wasn’t your Captain or friend. This was… someone else. You took a tentative step forward, searching for an eerie glow to his blue eyes, for an explanation for his weird behavior. This had to be mind-control, some elaborate HYDRA plot to disarm the Avengers. This wasn’t Steve, right?

“Steve,” you said carefully, “this isn’t our home. We live at the Tower, remember? With Nat, Sam, and Bucky?”

Steve’s frown deepened as you continued to speak to him like an incompetent child, “No. This is our new home, (Y/N). I made it just for us.”

You nodded along as you slowly crept forward toward the door. He shyly stuffed his hands in his pockets as he continued speaking, confessing. When you were close enough, you bolted past him. But you weren’t faster than Steve Rogers. He caught you by the ponytail and threw you back into the bedroom on the floor, kicking the door shut behind him. You scrambled to your feet and into a defensive position as Steve made another grab for you. You twisted and threw a right hook to his jaw, the strength of your powered punch was enough to send him stumbling backward, but it wasn’t enough to win against him. The same serum that made him had made you, too. But you’d be a goddamn idiot to think that you were stronger than Steve Rogers.

You made another run for the exit, but you didn’t get very far as Steve caught you yet again by your ankle. You kicked, punched, scratched, and flailed as he overpowered you. The man straddled your wriggling form and placed his hands around your throat. Squeezing and squeezing until the oxygen caught in your throat and your limbs began to relax. Your arms and legs went lax as your vision began to dot and blacken. When you let out the last wisp of air from your lungs is when Steve released you. You wheezed and gasped like a fish out of the water as you struggled to breathe, to fill your lungs with oxygen once again. You massaged your throat and glared up at Steve who was straightening and dusting off his uniform.

“I’ll only tell you this once, (Y/N). If you disobey me, in any way shape, or form, you’ll be punished. Don’t make me repeat myself,” he warned, “Now, get cleaned up. Dinner is almost ready.”

He opened the closet and pulled out a baby blue dress with silver embroidered star details around the off-shoulder neckline, and set it on the bed before you. You sat on the floor, just silently glaring and snarling as he knelt down in front of you with a small velvet box and diamond ring in hand. He grabbed your left hand and went to place it on your ring finger, but before he could slide the diamond on your finger, you wrenched your hand away and cracked him across the cheek. The slap seemed to echo throughout the room as his jaw ticked in silent anger. Before you could react, Steve pulled his hand back and returned the slap. The impact sent your head whipping sharply to the side, and caused your eyes to water with prickling, unshed tears. Your cheek stung when you touched it.

“I told you, (Y/N),” he sighed, “You made me do that.”

“I didn’t make you do shit, Rogers,” you spit.

You flinched as he pointed an angry and threatening finger in your face, “Language.”

He left you then after reminding you of dinner. Alone in the bedroom, you scowled at the dress that seemed to mock you. You threw it onto the floor and stomped out of the room, fueled by anger and hatred.

You found him in the kitchen, knife in hand as he carved a glazed turkey. His smile dropped as he took in your dress-less form. You were still in your gym clothes from earlier. Steve’s nostrils flared as he set the knife down, he stared at the turkey before turning his gaze to you.

“You’re not wearing the dress,”

“No,” you said flatly.

“And why not?”

You scoffed at him, “Why do you think, Steve?”

He moved his head to the side as he grumbled something under his breath. His knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the kitchen counter. You smirked triumphantly, you didn’t know why, but getting under his skin was satisfying. You weren’t going to make this easy for him, and you sure as hell wouldn’t be wearing that damn dress.

As if he had read your mind, he looked back at you with an ominous smile. He rounded the counter and stood in front of you, his large frame so much bigger than yours. In any other scenario, it would’ve been intimidating--having your Captain looming over you so threateningly. But right now, at this moment, you couldn’t care less. You wanted to piss him off, to knock him down off his pedestal. You’d be damned if you bent to his sick will.

Your eyes darted behind Steve to the counter where the knife waited for you. Before he could track your movements, you made a dive for it. Rolling over the island as you quickly readied the knife. You slashed and stabbed at Steve, growling in frustration as he effortlessly blocked and dodged all of your attacks. In one quick and fluid movement, Steve grabbed and twisted your wrist; forcing you to drop the knife. Your heart breaking with the loud clatter as it hits the floor.

Steve dragged you to the table by the back of your neck and slammed your cheek down onto the wood. Empty wine glasses and plates clattered with the impact. You grunted and kicked out your legs blindly, settling for a shin kick--anything. Steve slammed your head against the table once more as you continued to fight against him. He did it again, and again, and again until your vision blurred and your blood splattered against the polished wood. You weakly clawed at the plates and silverware around you, desperately trying to cling onto something. When your fingers wrapped around on a fork, you didn’t hesitate. You stabbed Steve’s thigh and summoned all of your remaining strength to throw him into the wall.

You fell back as you panted for breath, arming yourself with another piece of random cutlery. You threw a steak knife, missing him by just an inch. Steve growled as he dragged you by your kicking legs, hauling you up, just to slam you down onto the table once more. He held your face down as he growled in your ear.

“You have a lot of fight in you, (Y/N). Breaking you is going to be so much fun, honey,”

Slam.

“I’ll beat that spark out of you, if you make me, (Y/N). So why don’t you just be a good girl for me, hmm?”

Steve took hold of your neck once more as he guided you up the stairs and into the bedroom. He shoved you down onto the bed, and you landed on your stomach with a bounce. Your head was throbbing with an uncomfortable fog that settled over your thoughts. You murmured weakly in protest as Steve began to undress you. You felt the blood from your head drip down to your ear and down your neck.

Panic set your heart in motion as you felt him tug your leggings down your legs. Your brain and body kicked into a desperate overdrive as you writhed beneath him. You tried to shove him away, you summoned all of your super strength and thrashed, but you were simply no match for him--you were utterly powerless and at his mercy. His hands explored your thighs, dipping between them and squeezing that soft, supple inner skin. You scrambled to your knees, inadvertently pressing and grinding your ass to his front. He groaned as he moved his hands to your hips, angling them up as he ground down onto you with a silent promise of what was to come.

His hand dipped down and he held his prize within his hand. He groped and you grunted as you clawed blindly at his forearms, grabbing his wrists as he yanked down your cotton panties past your knees. You screamed as he shoved his fingers inside you, forcing his knuckles past your folds. You kicked and cursed him, hoping your struggle would be enough for him to let you go. You screamed louder than you had ever screamed before, so loud your head ached and lungs burned. With an annoyed grunt, Steve wrapped his thick arm around your neck in a chokehold to shut you up. You babbled breathlessly as you slapped at his arm.

“Steve,” you choked, “Please…”

He gave you one last strong warning squeeze before letting you fall flat on your back, coughing and gasping for breath.

“All you had to do was be good for me, (Y/N). I told you, bad girls get punished,”

He withdrew as he undid his fly. You swallowed thickly, wincing as your throat burned from his assault. You grabbed at his wrists, but he just batted your weak hands away as he held you down with one hand. The other gripping his thick, swollen length. You saw the muscles of his stomach tighten as he parted your legs. His grip on the back of your knees was bruising as he held them apart, lining himself up to your entrance. You tried once more to shimmy away, but he had you where he wanted you; vulnerable and open to him. He bent over you, his eyes black with lust, as he invited himself inside of you. He pushed himself inside, agonizingly slow, inch by inch, just relishing in the grip of you. You were too dry, too unwelcoming, but it didn’t matter to him. You were perfect, warm, and tight. He moaned then, as he forced himself deeper into you, pushing and pushing until his pelvis touched yours.

“Steve, please,” you sobbed, “please, stop…”

He shushed your pleas as his face scrunched in pleasure with every shallow thrust. You gritted your teeth to keep yourself silent, you wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. But he didn’t seem to notice as he tilted your hips up, finding his own slow, steady rhythm as he fucked into you. He cupped your face and forced his lips onto yours, his tongue swiping and exploring your mouth. You slapped at his head, but he never relented, never pulled back from his searing kiss. He moaned into your mouth as his hips skipped a beat. You took that opportunity, the falter of his hips, to bite down on his tongue. Then, did he finally relent.

He pulled away from you, his hips stilling inside of you. He carefully touched his tender tongue, scowling as he pulled away bloodied fingers. Steve drew back his hand and slapped you across the face. The smack of flesh striking flesh echoed throughout the room. You sneered at him and he frowned in disappointment before cracking you once more. You yelped as he held you down by your neck. Steve had found a new rhythm, and it was relentless. His tempo was fast, and he made sure to never miss a beat as he hammered into your abused cunt. He put pressure on your throat, but not enough to send you into a pool of cold unconsciousness. No… he wanted you awake for this, lucid, and remembering.

His groans and moans grew louder, duetting with the lewd notes of your squelching pussy and his skin slapping against yours. The repulsive symphony he had conducted finally reached its ungodly climax. You sobbed as you felt his warmth flood within you, as he shamelessly emptied himself deep inside of you. He sat back on his haunches, gently pulling himself from your wet grip. Your body instantly curled in on itself, shielding you from the man before you. The man you had once admired. You lay there, just shaking, whether it was from shock or anger, you didn’t know.

You felt as he dropped the baby blue dress with the silver embroidered stars next to you. You sniffled as you looked at the dress in defeat, silently dressing in the blue cotton. When you were dressed, Steve helped you to your feet, holding you against his chest as he gently swayed you. He caressed your head, embracing you gently as if he hadn’t just used your body, as if he was your sweet and loving husband, as if this was normal.

“Dinner is probably cold by now,” he sighed, “It’s okay, though. You can try again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” your voice was smaller now, weaker, afraid.

He hummed, “It’s a wife’s duty to cook and care for her husband, (Y/N). I think I’d like meatloaf for dinner, and apple pie for dessert. What do you think, honey?”

You hesitated, you wanted to spit at him, to curse, to smack, punch, and kick, but your body was frozen against his. When you didn’t reply, his grip on you tightened threateningly, making you flinch.

“Yes, that sounds good, Steve,” you whispered. He kissed your head as he gently swayed you, his warm release slowly dripping down your shaking legs.

[epicstuckyficrecs]

Weekly Recap October 11th-17th

MARVEL TRUMPS HATE AUCTION WEEK IS LIVE! I'm offering two different auctions this year 😃 

- #1106: typesetting for the fic of your choice! INCLUDING A PHYSICAL COPY OF THE BOOK! Bidding is tiered, so 50$ for 50K, 60$ for 60K, etc. up to a 100K max!

- #2045: one fic cover/banner for the fic of your choice!

You can find the full details for both my auctions here!

Complete

💙  The Bargain by GoodbyeBlues/ @goodbyeblues-ao3​ (Historical AU, Marriage of convenience | 20K | Mature): Forced to wed to keep his inheritance, Steve finds himself married to a handsome but gravely wounded soldier. There are a number of issues surrounding this arrangement, but the most prominent one is also the most unexpected of all: Steve's dying husband is no longer dying.

💙  Take You for a Ride (On my Garbage Truck) by GoodbyeBlues/ @goodbyeblues-ao3​ (Modern AU | 20K | Teen): Despite how it often looks, dramatic millennial Bucky Barnes is not actually homeless. He's just really, really bad at flirting.

💙  The Taming of the Brew by GoodbyeBlues/ @goodbyeblues-ao3​ (Coffeeshop AU, Magic Bucky | 18K | Mature): When overworked nurse Steve Rogers sets out to get a simple cup of coffee, he somehow finds himself in a curious little shop owned by a captivating, yet slightly confusing young man. Steve soon discovers that his life begins to change for the better when he becomes a frequent customer, but that's got to be because of the delicious beverages, and absolutely not because of... anything else. It couldn't possibly have to do with the beautiful man behind the counter, who whispers secret words into cups of coffee and seems to know Steve better than he knows himself. ...Right?

Number Twenty by plutosrose/ @plutosrose​ (What's Your Number AU | 13K | Explicit): After finding a magazine on the subway that says that omegas who have more than 20 sexual partners have a 4% chance of getting married, Bucky becomes determined to find out if one of his exes was secretly The One. There's definitely, absolutely zero chance he'll fall in love with the hot alpha who lives across the hall.

The Irony of Fate by janedarling/ @anonymousjane (Canon adjacent | 11K | Explicit): Bucky had been curled up at one end of the couch when Steve got home on Tuesday, buried up to his collarbone in a purple flannel quilt Clint had recommended as "the coziest shit ever, you have to get one of these" and so absorbed by The Obelisk Gate that he barely said hi. Steve had simultaneously wanted to crawl under the quilt to suck his cock and bring him a cup of tea. He'd landed on tea, but now he's regretting it. Bucky had been so warm and soft, and Steve could have slid up under the quilt, spread his legs and settled down in between them. Maybe Bucky even would have kept reading a bit, and Steve would have had to work at it a little to distract him, do his best to get Bucky's attention with just his hands and his mouth— “Have you tried talking to him, or are you just thinking about sex all the time?" Sam asks.

Not Technically A Bromance by dontcallmebree/ @iamthe-wo-manwhocan​ (Canon adjacent | 2,5K | Mature): “A bromance?” Bruce asks, voice tinged with restrained laughter. “Yeah, we have one of those.” Steve glowers at Bruce, who’s patently laughing at him, eyes bright and twinkling with mirth. Bruce composes himself, biting at his bottom lip. “And you’ve had sex how many times?”

WIP

A Tapestry of Two by BlueSimplicity/ @bluesimplicity73 (Post-Winter Soldier, Mute Bucky | 4/? | 23K | Explicit): Ever since DC, things haven’t been easy for Bucky Barnes. HYDRA stole everything from him, even his voice, and two months later he’s barely surviving as he struggles to pull the few scraps of himself left into a cohesive whole. Until he gets his hands on a blanket and everything changes. Fascinated by its color and softness, he begins a journey he never would have imagined. Taken in by a stranger who teaches him to knit, Bucky slowly discovers he is so much more than a dropped stitch in the fabric of life. With time, patience, and the help of a few who have had their eyes on him for a long time, Bucky begins to turn himself into something stronger, softer and more beautiful than before, weaving a tapestry of friendship, laughter and love warm enough to embrace the entire world, fix old wrongs, and wrap around the only other person who never stopped believing in him.

💙  Read, White & Blue by JJK/ @trenchcoatsandtimetravel (Shrunkyclunks, Librarian Bucky | 4/16 | 18K | Teen): If Steve was certain one thing would have stayed the same during his sixty-something years in the ice, it was that libraries were still the place to go if you needed information. And Steve needed information. Lots and lots of it. aka Librarian Bucky helps freshly desfrosted Steve learn how to use computers and catch up on everything he missed whilst he was in the ice.

💙  What Once Was Mine (A New and Improved Guide to Project Rebirth by Steven G. Rogers) by dontcallmebree/ @iamthe-wo-manwhocan​ , kocuria-visuals (kocuria)/ @kocuria​ (Canon divergent, Post-TFA | 1/2 | 13K | Mature): Fresh out of the ice with no recollection of his past, Steve Rogers strikes out on his own and tries to cobble together a life worthy of the clean slate he’s been given.

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

A Pure Soul: Nearly Taken (Yandere!Wanda Maximoff x ADD!autistic!reader)

*Not my GIF.

Summary: The day (y/n) comes back to the compound after being told all those nasty things takes a toll on their mental health and self-esteem. Unfortunately it gets to a point that Wanda hoped it would NEVER reach.

Request?: Still none.

Word Count: 3,456

Warnings: Ableism, eugenics mention, r-word slur, attempted suicide, attempted overdose, hurt and comfort.

Notes: This is a sort of “in-between scene” from “A Pure Soul.” The rate of suicide is 3 times higher in autistic people because of the world’s lack of understanding and willingness to accommodate us. Plus being told the world would be better off without you, along with people looking for ways to make sure we’re not born....that’s gonna take a toll. So it makes sense for these feelings to emerge.

=============================================

You know that the world isn’t very kind to the disabled.

You know that the world wishes people like you wouldn’t exist.

But that doesn’t make what happened hurt any less.

You were out shopping when you ran into your best friend from high school. Except....this friend wasn’t the same as you knew them. No, instead they showed you their true colors.

“Oh hey, (y/n),” they said.

Tone has never been your specialty.

“Hey!” you exclaimed happily as you were looking through the books at your local bookstore. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you! How are you?”

“Better. How’s the treatment coming along?”

This confused you.

“Treatment?”

They nodded.

“For that disease you call autism.”

This struck a chord, and it struck HARD. How could they say something like that?!

“D-disease?!”

They smirked.

“I mean, it just makes us humans lives harder to be around your kind.”

What?!

“What the hell’s gotten into you?!” you exclaimed. “I thought you were my best friend!”

“Oh?”

They pretended to wrack their brain.

“Oh! Yeah, I was such a great actor in that part. I should get an Oscar. Here’s the tea; I lost a bet and had to be your best friend for those four hellish years. I can’t believe they wanted me to suffer that much.”

Your heart began to crack. It was all....an act?

“You took my high school years away from me, made me miserable. I could’ve won prom royalty, but no one voted for me because I associated myself with your species. I’m glad you’re out of my life now. You’re nothing but a burden and the world would be so much better off without you. Why not do us that favor?”

Your heart shattered. You were so plagued with shock that you didn’t notice them push you to the ground and spit on you before walking away with a satisfied chuckle. For the next few minutes, you couldn’t say or do anything. You were just frozen to the spot, their words bouncing around your head.

Finally you were able to feel both the physical and emotional pain. Pursing your lips, you got up, kept your head down, and quickly left the bookstore, trying not to let the tears fall.

===============================================

In the elevator, heading up to your floor, you can barely form a new thought. All you can think of is that hurtful interaction. 

Burden, your kind, your species, disease....

It all hurt. 

And the worst part is that you can’t help but think that they’re right.

But your thoughts are jolted by the elevator bell. As usual you find the Avengers hanging out in the lounge. Nat and Clint are chatting with Wanda. Tony and Peter are working on homework. You can barely see what the others are doing. 

Almost instantly, Wanda’s eye falls on you. She has a smile on her face, but it falls when she sees you, as she instantly knows that something is wrong. 

“(Y/N)!” she whispers worried.

She rushes over and gives you a gentle hug, but you practically squeeze the life out of her. The other Avengers also come to your aid. 

“What happened?” Wanda asks you.

You gulp as she and Nat lead you to the couch.

“I....” you begin as you sit down. “I was out shopping....and I ran into my best friend from high school....”

You tell them the entire interaction. Shocked looks are nearly all around by the end.

“That’s seriously messed up,” Nat says in a mix of disgust and anger.

The others nod in agreement, except for Wanda. Instead she begins to tear up. 

“My sweet angel,” she weeps softly as she hugs you closer and pets your head. “Oh, my sweet, sweet angel. None of what they said is true, not one bit of it. You’re an absolute joy to have around and you’re one of the kindest souls I’ve ever met. You bring so much to the Avengers and to our lives. Autism is not a disease. It’s a part of who you are, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Wanda’s right,” Peter nods. “You’re wonderful, (y/n). You’re one of the best friends I could ever ask for.”

“And you bring a lot of new perspectives,” Nat adds. “You came into our lives when we needed you the most, especially Wanda.”

They all take turns giving you words of comfort and encouragement as well as letting you cry. Wanda stays the closest to you, to no one’s surprise, hugging you tightly. Her embrace is exactly what you need right now; so warm and loving. 

Tony, though not the most emotional person, does feel sympathetic and even angered at the person who said that to you; even though you’re on the opposite side of the Accords, he decides to get your favorite food for dinner. It’s not the greatest gesture of sympathy, but it’s definitely something. After that, you take a nice, warm shower and get into some fresh, soft pajamas. Wanda’s waiting for you in your bedroom, and surprises you with some soft socks that match your pajamas.

“I removed the fabric tags too,” she tells you.

Your heart melts a bit more for her. How someone as kind, attentive, and loving as her could ever be considered a terrible person is beyond you. You let her put them on your feet and they feel amazing. You wriggle your toes in them, smiling. 

“You like them?” she asks you.

“I love them,” you giggle before turning to Wanda. “And I love you.”

She smiles and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“I love you too, my angel.”

The two of you spend the rest of the night together, cuddling up close with one another, watching sitcoms, singing quietly. You doze off in her arms.....

But that doesn’t mean it’s over.....

==============================================

You’re not someone who easily forgets how things make you feel, and what that person said still makes you feel like shit. Now whenever you go out, you’re worried that you’re going to run into them. You keep your guard up and walk as quickly as you can. Every outing feels like a fight for survival, but you try to stay strong so that you don’t bother the others. You try to keep a smile on your face. You need to be strong.....

.....But even the strong reach their limits.

It’s a little after you found out they became catatonic. You’re at a coffee shop, nearly empty, when someone else walks in. It’s a friend of that person. You keep your head low as they place their order; four cups of black coffee, extra hot. Your anxiety is increasing, but you don’t want this person to think you’re weak. You keep your back to them, hearing the door open again. 

The other person is called for their order. Maybe you can finally get out of here.

The next thing you know, you feel something steaming hot being poured down the back of your shirt, on your head, thrown in your face, (which you luckily cover most of with your arms) and splattered on your arms and legs. Standing up, you cry out in pain as you whirl around to see 4 people from high school, among them the friend of your former best friend.

“It’s your fault my best friend can’t function, you retard!” the friend snaps as they push you around roughly.

“No one wants you on this planet,” spits another.

“You’re nothing but a parasite!”

“You just weigh people down!”

“You’re an embarrassment to society!”

“Why don’t you just end this?”

“It’ll be better that way!”

“Your birth was a mistake!”

By this time, you’re hardly a thread’s width away from a meltdown and you look at the cashier for help, but nothing. You try to take out your phone to call for help, but you end up slipping on the coffee, falling to the ground hard and in an odd position, hearing a crack. Pain surges through your body as you look at your arms; burn marks are beginning to form.

After they kick at you for a bit and spit on you, they leave. You look up at the cashier. 

“Why....didn’t you help?” you whimper with a whistle in your voice.

No answer. 

They don’t help you up either. Crawling to the door, you use a nearby booth to bring yourself back up to your feet. Suddenly you feel an intense surge of pain in your left leg, and not just from the burns. You look to see that it’s swollen and turning reddish-purple. You reach into your coat and get out your phone only to discover that it’s dead. Wanda’s going to be worried sick....you hate making her worry, and she’s been worried sick these last few weeks to the point where it’s taking a toll on her; so on the way back, you decide to take one worry out of her life for good.

======================

It’s dark when you get back to the compound. And lucky for you, the elevator is closed for repairs. You limp up the stairs, finally reaching the compound. As quiet as a dust mite, you open the door, biting down on your lips to keep yourself from crying out in pain; unfortunately, your lips took some burn damage as well. Limping to the bathroom, you shut and lock the door. You search the medicine cabinet and find some pills.

“This should do the trick,” you whisper.

You try to quietly position yourself on the floor so that you won’t hit your head. You want to be able to pass as peacefully as possible. But something gives in your left leg and you fall, letting out a loud cry of agony. Realizing your mistake, you quickly fiddle with the lid of the bottle as you hear footsteps rush in. You finally get the lid open and begin to pour out the whole bottle into your hand, hoping to get it in in time--

Click!

The lock turns scarlet, clicks, and the door swings opens. 

“(Y/N)!”

A terrified Wanda immediately snatches the pills and bottle from you with her powers. She makes them disappear before heading to your side, tears already flowing from her eyes.

“My sweet angel.....” she squeaks as she kneels in front of you gently taking ahold of your hands. “I didn’t realize you were feeling this terrible. I’m so sorry things have reached this point.”

You look away guiltily. 

“No, I’m sorry....it’s my fault. I never said....anything. You....you’ve been so stressed these past few weeks....all of you. I didn’t want to make it worse on you, so....I just kept quiet.”

Wanda shakes her head.

“You have nothing to apologize for, (y/n). It can be scary, but there’s no shame in reaching out. We all need help sometimes.”

Other footsteps rush in.

“What happened?” Nat asks. “Did (y/n)---?”

“Almost,” Wanda gulps. “We need to get them to the emergency room.”

“I’m fine,” you lie.

“Are you fine?” Wanda asks.

You realize that it’s pointless to lie, and you shake your head.

“No, I’m not....”

“Then we need to take you to the emergency room.....”

That’s when she sees the burns and leg.

“Especially to treat these.....what happened?”

As they carry you to the car, you tell them about the run-in at the coffee shop, them pouring the hot coffee on you, how they were telling you all of these things, how the cashier did nothing to help, how you heard that crack. Both of them are disgusted and horrified at those monsters.

“I don’t care what they say,” Nat tells you as they get you inside. “I’m glad that you’re here.”

“I am too,” Wanda agrees as she gets in the front seat. “We’re here for you.”

“But.....my autism.....”

Wanda gently takes ahold of your fingers, careful to avoid the burns.

“My angel.....I can only imagine how isolating it feels to be in a world that’s not made for you, but your autism is part of who you are. It’s what makes you unique. If the world refuses to accommodate for people like you on their own, we’ll help them to see that they need to, and we’ll help advocate with you.”

Nat nods as she starts the car up and the three of you head for the ER.

“I....I feel selfish worrying you like this and even attempting....I just thought....you’ve been so stressed and I thought it’d be better to take one worry out of your life.”

“You have nothing to feel selfish about,” Wanda assures you. “What you did wasn’t selfish. You’re in pain, and wanting to do something to stop that pain isn’t selfish. But there are better ways to deal with the pain, and I want to help you with those. (Y/N), I can say with 100% certainty that I’m glad to have you in my life, through the good and the bad.”

Tears flow down your face as the three of you silently drive to the ER.

=============================================

It takes several hours for you to be treated, along with a few more hours of consultation for your mental health. Some of the burns are treated through surgery, so you have to stay for a little over a week to make sure you recover and stabilize. Your leg is put in a cast, and Wanda comes to visit you everyday. You feel much better with her and Nat.

A psychologist comes in to discuss a safety plan with you. You decided to ask Wanda if she’d come and discuss it with them. She said yes and Nat also decided to help. You all work out what works in terms of coping mechanisms, people you can talk to, calming techniques, etc,. The psychologist also recommends regular counseling. Wanda asks if there are any remote options for counseling, as it’s going to be difficult for you to get there with your leg, (Also, she’s a little worried that the therapist might try to take you away from her, but she does show concern for your leg) and to her relief, there is. 

You’re discharged after about a week, but you’re not to be left alone for a few days to another week or two, just to be sure. Well, it’s more of Wanda’s recommendation than psychologist’s orders, but the psychologist also thinks that that could be a good idea. You’re not really complaining; it’s more time to spend with Wanda. And she’s certainly not complaining either.

For that time, especially, she makes sure you know that you’re loved, wanted, valued. She practically dotes on you; as if she hadn’t been doting on you before, she’s especially pampering you now. The other Avengers also get the 411, and decide to help. If you need pain or sleep medications, one of them brings the proper dose to you. They take turns spending time with you and getting to know you more. If they need to go out on a mission, Wanda volunteers to stay with you, but if she’s absolutely needed there, she entrusts your care to Vision, a robot who’s exceptionally caring. You and Wanda regularly discuss possibly adding him to the relationship, but you’re not sure if she’s being serious or not. 

On one night, Wanda’s caring for you. After applying the prescribed cream on your burns, she helps you find an oversized t-shirt to wear as PJs. 

“This one’s softer than the others,” you note.

“I went looking for a shirt with a softer material than normal,” she tells you as she prepares a small dose of melatonin for you, one that you’ve been taking to combat the nightmares of those events in the hospital. “I know how much it tends to make you feel discomforted if there is one. I also made sure it was a tagless shirt.”

You smile and sigh.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve an angel like you, Wanda,” you tell her.

Hearing this she smiles and blushes.

“If anyone’s the angel, it’s you,” she says as she gives you the melatonin. “You’ve been there for me even when I’m at my absolute worst.”

“So have you.”

You take the melatonin before Wanda brings you your toothbrush and toothpaste. You brush thoroughly before spitting it into a cup that Wanda disposes of. 

“You know, I could go to the bathroom and do this myself,” you tell her kindly.

“I know,” she sighs. “I’m just worried, my angel.”

“What if I wash my face tonight with the door open?” you suggest.

Wanda gives this a little thought and nods. 

“I can work with that.”

Using your crutches, you walk to the bathroom where you sit on a stool in front of the sink. You wash and dry your face before heading to the bed with Wanda helping you get tucked in.

“You’re seriously an angel,” you tell her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone outside of my family that’s been as concerned about my well-being as you.”

“And you’re too sweet,” she smiles again as she finishes getting ready for bed herself. “If anyone’s the undeserving, I don’t deserve you.”

“No, it’s the other way around,” you say.

“No, I’m certain I’m right.”

You giggle.

“Wanda, if we try to prove one right over the other, we’ll be going at this all night.”

She smiles as she goes over to the other side of the bed. 

“Well, I know you’re an angel,” she tells you as she gets under the covers. “You came to me in a dark time, and you shone a beam of sunlight through the shadow.”

The two of you look at each other as the fairy lights hang above you. Of course you’re looking at the bridge of her nose, but you can’t help but glance up at her eyes a few times; one time they catch you, and they are stunning. They’re like emeralds to you; vivid, entrancing, mystical. Just a single glance, and you know there’s so much to know about, so much to discover, and you become lost in them. 

“I’m so proud of you, (y/n).”

Wanda’s gentle voice echoes against your eardrums and dances around your mind, soothing you into drifting even more. But then she boops you on the nose, making it twitch like a bunny’s and snapping you out of your trance.

“Huh?” you ask, looking lost.

Wanda giggles.

“You are too cute,” she tells you. “I was saying that I’m so proud of you for pushing through all of this. It’s not the easiest thing to do, and.....well.....I’m glad you’re still alive, my sweet little sunbeam.”

You blush upon hearing this and turn away, but Wanda gently redirects your face forward.

“There’s no need to hide, my angel. I want to see your lovely face.”

At that moment, you begin to feel drowsy and bring yourself closer to her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough, Wanda,” you sigh.

She brings you in closer and you melt into her embrace.

“Being with you, and you being safe and happy and alive.....that’s the only thank you I need.”

Leaning in, she kisses you gently on your forehead and you shyly return one on her cheek. 

“Goodnight, my angel,” she tells you as she brushes a strand of hair out of your way.

“Wait,” you say as she turns to switch the lights off. “Will....will you sing me those lullabies again? Please?”

“Of course,” she smiles. 

Turning the lights off, she returns to embrace you and softly sings the Sokovian lullabies her parents used to sing to her. As you drift off to sleep, you don’t know what’s going on in her mind. What’s going on with her mind? Her master plan, of course. Tonight’s the night she will finish what she started. Those monsters at the coffee shop messed with the wrong person. For the past few nights, she’s been paying them visits, doing the same things she did with your former best friend, and sending subconscious suggestions for them to gather in one place, thinking they’d be safer together. And now they have.

Tonight she’s going to make sure their minds are gone for good, but not before making them feel the pain and agony she imagines you felt. Her anger with them is in full throttle, so it’s going to be even worse for them. Telekinesis, fear projection, hypnosis, inducing extreme fear, she’ll do whatever she has to. Wanda will not leave until they’re nothing more than hollow husks, shadows of their former selves. With how they’d been acting on those nights, and how much Wanda has done so far, it won’t take too long. 

Because no one-and she means no one-gets away with hurting her precious angel.......ever.

[brightbeautifulthings]

Hawkeye, Volume 1: My Life as a Weapon by Matt Fraction

"'Hold that thought, ya tracksuit Dracula. You asked about The Avengers. Y'wanna know the best part about being an Avenger? Having Captain America around you all the time. He just-- The guy just brings out the absolute best in people. You... want to be good when he's around. You really do. Ivan, look around you real quick. Because, right now? Captain America ain't here.'"

Year Read: 2022

Rating: 5/5

Thoughts: This is one of the best things I've read this year, and one of the best graphic novels I've read ever. Every issue starts with, "Okay... this looks bad." which is one of the best ways to start a story (and, honestly, the embodiment of Clint Barton's character). Each one is thrilling and action-packed, with compelling plots, excellent character work, and laugh out loud humor alongside the more serious and dramatic elements. It's almost hard to believe that Fraction manages to fit all that in one book, but he makes it look effortless. Aja's artwork is beautiful, and its purple color palette and smudgy aesthetic fits the character so well.

The characters are top-notch. I knew the MCU did Clint dirty, first in erasing his disability and then by erasing his whole personality, but I never realized how bad it was until I picked these up. He's fucking delightful, with a dry sense of humor, a complete lack of self-preservation, and a deep commitment to doing the right thing for the people around him. He had my heart from the first issue when he saved Lucky and everyone in his tenement building. Kate Bishop is a fun complement with her witty humor and easy sophistication, and I love the mentor/partnership relationship between the two of them. My edition also includes a cute issue on Barton first passing the bow to Kate that I adored, although the style is quite different. If you're interested in getting into comics, this is an excellent starting place.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

The Avengers: Part Five

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Natasha escorts you three into the bridge where a ton more people are. Computers on both sides with people working on all of them. There is a long table in the center of the room with Nick Fury and Maria Hill posted on a small platform with a control desk.

"Gentlemen. Ladies," Fury greets. Fury moves to go past Steve when your friend stops him suddenly. He pulls out a ten-dollar bill and hands it to Fury. Nick takes the money and walks over to Bruce who is still shy about everything. "Doctor, thank you for coming."

"Thank you for asking nicely." Bruce looks at you and shakes Fury's hand politely. "So, uh, how long am I staying?"

"Once we get our hands on the Tesseract, you're in the clear."

"Where are you with that?"

Fury points to Phil so he can explain it to him. Natasha looks at one of the computers that has Clint's picture on it. Clint is her best friend whom she owes everything to. She's not going to go down without a fight. She is going to bring him back home.

"We're sweeping every wirelessly accessible camera on the planet--cellphones, laptops, tablets. If it's connected to a satellite, it's eyes and ears for us."

"That's still not gonna find them in time," Natasha sighs.

"You have to narrow the field. How many spectrometers do you have access to?" Bruce asks Fury.

"How many are there?"

"Call every lab you know, tell them to put the spectrometers on the roof and calibrate them for gamma rays. I'll rough out a tracking algorithm based on cluster recognition. At least we could rule out a few places. Do you have somewhere for me to work?"

"Agent Romanoff, would you show Dr.Banner to his laboratory, please?"

Natasha walks past you without a look in your direction.

"You're gonna love it, Doc. We got all the toys."

It's going to take a while to track down Loki, and you're not needed for that. The computers will do it for you, so you decide to take a little break to gather your thoughts.

"Hey, are you okay?" Steve asks when you walk past him.

"I just need some air. I'll be back."

You walk out of the bridge and onto the long airstrip. This process is going to take all day but you'd rather enjoy the sunset from out here than in there. You're high above the clouds so that you can't see the world below you. There is nothing preventing you from seeing such a beautiful sunset. You walk to the edge of the helicarrier and sit down so that your legs dangle off the edge and right above one of the wind turbines. The sky is beaming with pink, orange, and purple colors. The clouds look like a blanket you can just walk over.

It's truly beautiful.

"They told me you were outside."

You look back to see Natasha walking out to you.

"Hi," you say and immediately get up. "I needed to get away from everyone for a bit. You know how that goes." She nods and uncomfortable silence fills the space between you two. "Nat, I am so sorry."

"What happened? You were just... gone."

"I don't know. I was sent to Asgard. I don't know why I ended up there. I tried to leave but Thor just dragged me along with him. I--I don't have an excuse. I didn't realize two years had passed. Time works differently on Asgard than it does here."

"I thought you left me like you didn't want to be with me. It's hard for me to let people in, and I thought you... I was pissed at you for a long time."

"I know. I really am sorry." Again, more uncomfortable silence. "Just because two years have passed, doesn't mean I don't think you're still gorgeous. You are."

"Does that mean...? You know, between us...?"

You fill in the missing words of her questions on your own.

"I think you're amazing. I think you deserve all the love in the world, as cheesy as that sounds. I think if given another opportunity, we can be something, but I don't think it's right now." Loki pops into your head, and you try to will it away. "I have to figure out my feelings for someone before I try to enter a new relationship. I don't want to string you along or take advantage of you. If we do date, I want you to know you have my whole heart. My heart just isn't whole right now."

"You really know how to let a girl down easy," she chuckles.

"I do really want to be your friend. Do you want to be mine?"

"Yeah," she nods with a smile.

"Good. I can't wait to tell you what I've been up to for the past two years."

"If it has anything to do with what happened in New Mexico, I kind of have an idea." You two walk back inside the bridge to see people running around like they have their heads cut off. "What's going on?"

"We got a hit. Seventy-nine percent match."

"Location?"

"Stuttgart, Germany. He's not exactly hiding."

"Captain. Y/N. You two are up," Fury says. "Y/N, we made a suit for you while you were gone. It might help with the fire and ice powers. Plus, it looks cool."

"Thanks," you say.

You've never had an issue with your clothes burning off whenever you used your fire powers, but it'll be nice to have a uniform like everyone else. It's nice to have someone who cares enough about you to make you one even after being missing for two years. It's very form-fitting but has a material that allows you to move comfortably and breathe properly though. Fury though it was funny to make the colors match your powers... kind of. 

You and Steve arrive in Germany before more people can be killed. Natasha is on standby in the Quinjet just in case she needs to be the big guns. Tony still hasn't shown up to help, and now you're not so confident Phil got through to him. If you know Tony, and you do, then he'll join this team on his terms.

When you fly in, there is a crowd of people at Loki's mercy. They are all kneeling in front of him, and he's put up illusions of himself around the perimeter to keep them in check. Even from where you are in the sky, you can see how much pain he's in. He's broken and angry and someone is manipulating him for their own selfish greed. Everyone around him is quiet as they don't know what he is going to do next, and he holds his arms out, smiling.

"Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? It's the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation. The bright lure of freedom diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity. You were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel."

An elder German man stands up despite how fearful everyone is of Loki.

"Not to men like you."

"There are no men like me," Loki grins.

"There are always men like you."

"Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example."

Loki raises his scepter to blast the old man back when Steve comes barreling in like a hero. He slams to the ground in front of the old man and deflects the blast from the scepter. The blast ricochets off the shield and back at Loki who crumbles to the ground. You fly in next to Steve but stay in the air with your hands up in flames.

"You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing."

"The Avatar," Loki sneers and looks up at you. "The soldier. A man out of time."

"I'm not the one who's out of time."

Natasha comes swooping down with the Quinjet and a machine gun slides out of the bottom of it and points at Loki.

"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down," she says over the PA system.

Loki blasts the Quinjet but Natasha quickly maneuvers out of the way, giving Steve time to throw the shield at Loki. Loki shoots the shield with the scepter while Steve runs at him at full force. You muster up fireballs and throw them in Loki's direction, causing him to be smart about how he is fighting. Where Loki uses his scepter to fend off Steve, your best friend is using hand-to-hand combat to defeat Loki.

Still, Loki is a much more skilled fighter than Steve is and knocks him down completely. Steve is on his knees with his head bowed and Loki shoves the end of the scepter into his helmet to keep him there.

"Kneel."

"I don't think so," you say from behind Loki.

Loki turns just in time to see the shield coming right at him. You have grabbed it and are now using it to whack some sense into him. You smack the side of the shield into his body and he goes flying off to the side, freeing Steve. You hand him the shield back before walking over to Loki who is just now getting back on his feet. He quickly points the tip of the scepter to your chest to mind control you, but it doesn't go quite according to plan. When the power inside the scepter collides with the power inside you, it explodes as if they aren't meant to be mixing together. You and Loki go flying back, and you hit your head on the concrete.

Steve rushes at Loki but the God grabs your friend and tosses him to the side like he's a ragdoll. Natasha comes swooping in to try and help, but Loki has cast a bunch of illusions to make it more difficult for her to figure out which is the real him.

Suddenly, the loudspeaker on the Quinjet roars to life, and ACDC's Shoot to Thrill starts playing loudly. That can only mean one thing. Tony comes flying in like the hero he is and blasts Loki away with the repulsor on his chest. Loki smacks the stairs leading up to a building. That is enough to take him down, especially when Tony aims everything he's got at the God.

"Make your move, Reindeer Games." Loki puts his hands up in surrender, and his golden armor shimmers away. "Good move."

"Hey, Tony," you say and join the duo.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know, had to come back."

"I thought you were dead."

"I'm not."

"I can see that."

"Mr. Stark," Steve says.

"Captain."

Loki is taken as a prisoner onto the Quinjet. With him in custody, Fury wants him back at the Helicarrier as soon as possible. Natasha is piloting the aircraft, Steve and Tony are whispering to each other by the cockpit like school girls, and you're sitting next to Loki on the side... just staring at him. He can't seem to look you in the eyes now that he's forced to be with you. He can't take the heat of you burning holes in his head.

"Y/N..."

"Shut up," you immediately cut him off. "Fuck you."

He looks into your eyes, and much like before, your reality is swirling into the past.

Asgard is known for many things, but the one thing they love to uphold is their annual balls where they invite everyone in the kingdom to come and celebrate in the castle. People of all classes show up to enjoy good food and delicious wine, and to laugh among their peers. The royal family can get so many things wrong, but this is one thing that everyone looks forward to.

You obviously don't have any clothes since everything you own is back on Xenia, but Loki pulled something out of a closet that is just your size. It's a beautiful gown that reaches your feet. Even in the heels he's given you, your feet are barely visible. The color is a dark forest green that doesn't puff out like most ball gowns. While it does have a bit of volume, it's relatively close to your body. The straps are ones that you tie together like a bow, and the top of the dress is covered with even darker-colored rhinestones that seem to drip down as if it's melting.

It's perfect for someone who is Loki's date.

Once you're done getting ready, you walk over to Loki's room to see if he is. You knock once and enter without waiting for his permission. He is facing the floor-length mirror in an all-black suit including the undershirt. The jacket he's wearing over it is unbuttoned so that you can see how form-fitting the undershirt is. He is working on his tie that he can't seem to get right away. When he does, he buttons up the rest of his jacket to complete the look.

His eyes shift from his task to you, and his breath is taken away. You walk closer to him until he is forced to turn to face you in order to see things more clearly.

"You look very handsome," you grin and wrap your arms around his neck.

"You look stunning. Absolutely ravishing."

His blue eyes shine brightly against the darkness of his suit.

You open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out. You shake your head in disappointment and leave his side. Steve knows how overwhelming this is for you and welcomes you into his arms. You look over at Loki to see him watching you with careful eyes.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[iam93percentstardust]

Hey, I hope you're had a very pleasant birthday and birthday month! If the prompte are still open: Can you do Stony with Tony finally and sorta randomly confessing his love to Steve and Steve only then realizing that what he feels for Tony is romantic love as well?

Hello! Sure thing! Quick note: there’s a change between present and past tense for a flashback, for anyone who doesn’t like that kind of thing

As always, everything I write is also on ao3

~

“I love you,” Tony says, and Steve doesn’t quite know what to do about that.

He won’t say that he’s thought about it before because he hasn’t. But he won’t say that he’s never thought about it either—because he has, occasionally, glanced at Tony’s ass outlined by his perfectly tailored pants and appreciated the sight, and he has, once or twice, wondered what Tony’s warm, sparkling eyes would look like when hazy with pleasure. But a quick, glancing thought that he immediately moves on from is not the same as being attracted enough to Tony to think about asking him out or anything past that.

And now that he’s faced with that question, he doesn’t know what to say. Is he supposed to thank Tony? Is he supposed to acknowledge his feelings and say that he doesn’t feel the same way? Is he just supposed to ignore what Tony said? This is why he has so much trouble with his dates—he never knows how to act in a way that isn’t awkward. No wonder Natasha recently declared him hopeless after he came back from his last date covered in her sticky drink because he accidentally called her a dame.

“I love you,” Tony says and Steve doesn’t know what to do about that, but as it turns out, he doesn’t have to do anything, because Tony nods immediately afterward, says, “Good talk,” and turns and walks away like he wasn’t expecting an answer—or at least, not one that he would like.

Steve doesn’t know what to do about that either.

~

“Do you think I’m in love with Tony?” he asks Natasha later that day when they’re relaxing on the couch while some mindless sitcom plays in the background.

Natasha blinks at him and then caps the nail polish she was using and puts it on the coffee table. “Do you think you’re in love with Tony?” she asks carefully.

He frowns at her. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I should just tell you what to think.”

He sighs and takes another sip from his Coke, only to realize that it’s empty. Yeah, that describes his life pretty well. “I’m gonna get another one,” he says, standing up. “Do you want something?”

She shakes her head. It’s not until he’s in the kitchen, grabbing another Coke from the fridge, before she asks, “What brought this on?”

Steve thinks about the vulnerable look on Tony’s face as he said those three words. He probably wouldn’t like it if Steve told Natasha what they’d discussed. Or, well, he’d probably act like it was fine but he’d secretly feel hurt and might put the workshop into blackout mode again. Steve hates it when the workshop is in blackout mode. He doesn’t like that he can’t get to Tony when he’s feeling so terrible that he has to shut himself away. He wants to be there to support him, and he hates it when he’s the one who makes Tony feel like he has to close off the workshop.

“Nothing,” he tells Natasha.

She gets up to come into the kitchen, where she eyes him for a moment and then declares, “Tony finally told you, didn’t he?”

How does she always know?

“How do you always know?”

She smiles enigmatically. “I always know,” she says in that mysterious tone.

Steve glares at her. “Tony told you, didn’t he?”

“Maybe he did and maybe he didn’t.”

“One of these days, you’re going to have to admit that you two are friends.”

“Hmm,” she agrees. “But not today.” She hesitates, watching as Steve starts preparing a ham sandwich. “So Tony told you he loves you and you said?”

“Nothing,” Steve says with a shrug. “JARVIS, do you think it would be a good idea if I took this to Tony?”

“Sir has not expressed an explicit desire to keep you out of the workshop but I believe he would not appreciate you down there at the moment.”

Steve sighs. “Great. Could you send U up here to bring this sandwich down?”

“Of course, Captain Rogers.”

With that taken care of, Steve turns back to Natasha, following her back out to the living room. “I didn’t say anything because Tony didn’t give me the chance. He just took off.”

Natasha is quiet, studying him for a long moment. He knows what she’s thinking, since it’s probably the same thing he thought: that Tony was too afraid to hear the answer to give Steve the chance to respond. Eventually, she asks, “So how do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says honestly. “I can’t say I’ve ever thought about Tony like that before but—we act kinda coupley, don’t we?”

Before Natasha can respond, the previously bright sky outside goes dark. There’s a bright lightning bolt right outside the window, followed by the crash of thunder and then a loud rushing sound. It dissipates after a moment, the sky lightening again.

“Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff,” JARVIS says, “Thor has returned to the tower.”

~

The Steve and Tony story goes something like this: instead of going on his planned road trip, Steve returned to the tower the day after the Chitauri invasion to offer his apologies to Tony about what he said on the helicarrier. Somehow—and he’s not sure how, even to this day—he found himself getting wrapped up in the tower repairs with a room of his own on one of the lower floors. And by the time those were done, Tony had apparently also redone some of the apartments near the penthouse as a headquarters for the Avengers. Steve hadn’t been lacking for options after the battle (the Army, in particular, wanted him back) but he’d moved into the tower permanently instead.

He and Tony had clashed a few times in those early days but once Bruce came back from wrapping up his affairs in India and Natasha and Clint left SHIELD to join them, they settled into a bit of a truce.

And over the semi-regular movie nights and the training spars and the late-night conversations after they both couldn’t sleep, that truce became a friendship and before Steve quite realized it, Tony had become one of his best friends. Slowly, Steve found himself being pulled out of the shell he’d withdrawn into after waking in this new century. Tony dragged him to lunch at new and exciting places, places that Steve could never have even dreamed of when he was growing up. They planned missions and training days together. Steve had even gotten adept enough at handling the press with Tony to feel confident accepting interview requests with him.

He hadn’t realized though that Tony had taken it as something more serious though. And now that he does know, he’s not sure what to do about it.

~

He eventually goes to Bruce, since Pepper is busy dealing with a business merger and Colonel Rhodes is out of town in some undisclosed location (though Steve is certain that Tony knows where). Bruce’s lab isn’t quite the wonderland of light and holograms that Tony’s is, but it’s still impressive to someone who grew up with nothing. Tony makes sure that Bruce has all the latest equipment so the lab is a gleaming marvel of sleek instruments with silver and white colors everywhere. It doesn’t look like the most soothing environment but the speakers pipe out some sort of piano music that Steve vaguely recognizes and there’s a teapot on one counter, keeping whatever Bruce is drinking warm.

Bruce is currently examining something under a microscope. Steve can make out what looks like a purple smear on the slide from where he’s standing in the doorway, but that’s it. Bruce doesn’t seem to have noticed him yet, even though JARVIS announced him, so he waits patiently until Bruce has rolled away from the microscope.

“Bruce, you got a second?” he asks quietly.

“Hey, when did you get here?” Bruce asks, offering him a tired smile. He waves Steve over to the teapot and offers him a cup.

“Just a couple minutes ago. I didn’t mind waiting,” Steve assures him. “What’s the blend?”

“Lavender and chocolate.”

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind a cup.” Bruce hands him the steaming mug. Steve has to add the sugar himself (only Tony knows how he prefers his tea).

“What brings you to my lab? Tony’s downstairs today,” Bruce says, fixing a cup of his own.

“I’m not looking for Tony. Not yet anyway,” Steve corrects. “I did want to talk about him though.” He hesitates and then decides to take the plunge. “Has Tony ever said anything to you about—ah—”

“About his feelings?” Bruce asks knowledgeably. “It’s come up a few times.”

Steve takes that to mean that it’s come up fairly frequently. Tony does like to overshare sometimes and trying to figure out what he’ll overshare about and what he’ll clam up about is about as accurate as trying to make one of Clint’s trick shots. “He told me today,” he begins carefully. “But he didn’t let me say anything.”

“Well, he wouldn’t,” Bruce says, like that’s perfectly reasonable and not absolutely surprising to Steve. He must see the confusion in Steve’s face because he adds, “He only just figured it out a few days ago himself, even though he’s been talking about you for months. I don’t think he was expecting you to feel the same way as him right after he realized it.”

“But why would he say it then?”

Bruce takes off his glasses, holding them in front of him as he thinks. “Tony—he’s got a weird relationship with love. He told me once that he thought he’d lost the chance to tell Pepper he loved her, first in Afghanistan and then with the palladium poisoning.”

“His parents,” Steve realizes. “He didn’t get to tell them either.”

“Exactly,” Bruce says, pointing at him with the glasses. “He doesn’t like to wait. So even though he knows you don’t feel the same way, he felt it was important to tell you.”

“What, in case I die tomorrow?”

“Or if he does.” Bruce must catch the stricken expression on Steve’s face as he smiles gently. “It’s not just about getting the feeling off his chest for Tony. It’s about making sure that you know you’re loved too.”

“Oh,” Steve says softly.

~

Normally, he would go down to the workshop to think about something that’s puzzling him but he doesn’t want to bother Tony right now. Instead, he goes to his second-favorite room in the entire tower: the library. The library was designed specifically by Tony for Steve after he mentioned how much he liked the tablet Tony had given him but how he missed paper books too. He hadn’t been angling for a library out of the conversation but Tony, generous to a fault, had immediately gotten to work on one.

It’s a beautiful room, completely incongruous with the sleek modern style of the rest of the tower, but perfect despite that. It takes up an entire two floors of the tower with balconies, a spiral staircase, and several sliding ladders for Clint to reenact a scene from some movie that Steve hasn’t gotten around to watching yet. Tony had done the room in dark wood with enough windows to make it feel light and airy instead of cramped. There are little nooks hidden among the shelves and a few window seats for anyone who wants to gaze out over the New York skyline while they read.

It’s perfect, made all the more so because Tony designed it for him.

“Steve, you should have realized how Tony felt sooner,” he mutters to himself as he settles on one of the cushy armchairs with his sketchbook. But how could he have? According to Bruce, Tony hadn’t even known how he felt until a few days ago.

He sketches as he thinks, no subject in mind until he looks down to find that he’s roughly sketched out Tony at his workbench, arguing with DUM-E over something silly. Steve smiles fondly down at the drawing, rubbing his thumb over the curve of Tony’s cheek. He remembers this argument. It had been a couple weeks ago. Tony had asked DUM-E to bring him a wrench and instead, DUM-E had brought him two screwdrivers, three hammers, and a level before finally bringing the wrench. It had made Steve laugh, which had just encouraged DUM-E. Tony had acted frustrated but he knows Tony well enough to know that Tony had been secretly proud about DUM-E’s personality, both for DUM-E and for himself. After all, as Tony said, any monkey could design an AI. It took skill to design one with character.

In his sketch, he’s drawn something of that conflict in Tony’s face—the frustration in the downward turn of his mouth but the pride in the twinkle in his eyes—and it only makes him more beautiful.

“Beautiful,” Steve repeats, awed at the thought. Tony is beautiful, when he’s tinkering, when he’s flying, even when he’s going toe-to-toe with Steve over something stupid (usually Tony’s self-sacrificial tendencies).

He flips through the book, taking in each drawing: Natasha, Tony, Clint, Thor, Tony, Bruce, Tony, Tony, Tony. “Yeah,” he murmurs, looking back down at the drawing he just finished again. He thinks he’s got it figured out.

He stands, tucking his sketchbook under his arm. “JARVIS, do you think Tony would mind talking to me now? I’ve got something important to tell him.”

JARVIS is quiet for a moment, then says, “Sir would be happy to see you.”

He makes his way downstairs, thinking about what he’s going to say, but as soon as he sees Tony—wonderful, beautiful, perfect Tony—playing with one of those incredible holograms he designed, the words fly from his mind and he blurts out, “I’m not in love with you.”

And then he winces. Yeah, okay, so he’s a bit of a disaster.

Tony looks hurt for a moment, but it’s quickly covered up with dramatic offense. Before Tony can make one of his infamous quips that’ll just make light of the situation, Steve crosses the workshop and pulls Tony’s hands into his, rubbing them gently with his thumbs.

“I’m not in love with you,” he repeats. “But I think I could be soon. I’m not where you’re at yet—my brain isn’t nearly as quick as yours, Tony, of course you’re a step ahead of me here too. But Tony, you’re on almost every single page of my sketchbook. We go on what we might as well call dates together. We talk for hours. I know you almost as well as I know myself. I’m not in love with you yet but I think I’m only a couple dates away from it, so you should take me out, and we’ll see how fast I can catch up.”

Tony is smiling by the end of his little speech. “How are you always so good at that?” he asks.

“I was born like this,” Steve says seriously, only to crack a grin when Tony laughs.

“No you weren’t,” Tony argues. “You were born small and spiteful.”

“And full of good speeches. But no one wanted to listen to a little guy like me so I had to bottle them up to use on you.” He pauses and looks down at Tony. “Um, not to pressure you, but does a date sound good?”

Tony thinks about it for a moment. “Depends. Where are you going to take me?”

“Oh, am I taking you? You’re the billionaire, shouldn’t you be treating me?”

Tony’s eyes darken as he purrs, “Only if you’re very nice.”

Steve shivers. He hadn’t really thought about how it would feel to have the full Tony Stark Seduction TechniqueTM turned on him, but he’s thinking about it now and it is absolutely delightful. “What if I’m not nice at all?” he whispers, hands tightening on Tony’s.

Tony’s smile turns downright filthy and he leans up to brush a kiss over Steve’s cheek. “Hmm, I’ll think of something,” he murmurs into Steve’s ear.

He’s not going to act like a caveman and take Tony to bed. He’s not. He’s going to—“Sal’s!” he blurts out, immediately regretting it when Tony takes a step away, brow wrinkling confusedly. It’s really cute. Steve wants to kiss it away.

“What?”

“Sal’s,” Steve says again. “Best burgers in Brooklyn. I want to take you there.”

Tony smiles again. “Sounds like a date.”

[strawwritesfic]

Thor Odinson x Female!Midgardian!Reader: Adventures in a Realm Without Divorce Court [Ch. 1]

Summary: It was supposed to be a standard Vegas trip: drinking, gambling, a night out on the town with your best friend, Jane. A bit too much of the first has you pass out–through your entire wedding! Waking up to find yourself married to your best friend’s boyfriend? Not that great. Even worse? He’s not from Earth, not by a long shot. Worse still? They don’t believe in divorce in his Realm, and you never wanted to be a princess.

Challenge:  “A Twist on ‘I Do’” challenge by Aqua4044 on Lunaescence Archives.

Ratings/Warnings/Tags: T (drinking problems; slow burn; hate to love; sexual references; jerk!Odin; not woobie!Loki; foul language; references to broken families; references to broken-off engagements; love triangles galore; siblings!Sif & Heimdall; set in between Avengers (2012) and Thor: The Dark World; not canon compliant; Jane & Reader friendship; Darcy & Reader friendship; Clint & Reader friendship; Sif & Reader friendship; Loki & Reader friendship)

Pairings: Thor/Reader; Thor/Jane; Jane/Thor/Reader; Clint/Darcy/Fandral; one-sided!Sif/Thor

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Master List

Chapter 1: The Makings of Disaster

Never before had you been so thrilled to see the sign that welcomed you back to your home state of New Mexico. As your rented bright red convertible hummed across the the asphalt, you kept your gaze fixed on the haze of purple mountains shimmering on the horizon. The wind whipped through your hair. The flat, gray street beneath your wheels remained empty. You allowed your eyes to slide shut for only a moment; heavy sunshine made the inside of your lids glow red. A gentle swerve had you paying attention again, though you lifted your head ever so slightly to breathe in the breeze and the smell of hot, baked earth. Now, truly, everything was behind you: your fiancé’s cold feet, your abandoned apartment, your notice of resignation to the school president, and the feelings of disappointment and pity strewn among each.

In front of you lay the Land of Enchantment, the land of dirt, the land of sunshine and heat waves coming off the pavement and low shrub bushes covering the flat mesas by the side of the road. Some people might not have found the environment beautiful–you certainly would not have in your youth–but the drastic shift was a welcome change from New England. It was something of a relief knowing those mountains would not get much nearer, and that Jane’s town promised more heat and the color brown. Anything to keep your mind off…Well, anything to keep your mind off much of anything, really.

You wanted a weekend without thinking. Your knuckles tightened around the steering wheel momentarily, and then you released a long breath as you cranked up the radio. Just a few days ignoring the twinges, and you’d start planning what you were going to do with your life afterward.

“Forget it,” you crooned to yourself under your breath. The gas pedal shifted underneath your right foot. Soon the landscape blurred behind you and your voice lifted into the air. You’d figure it all out eventually: where you would live, where you would work, who you would remain in contact with.

For the time being, it was just you–you and the open road.

******

The headquarters of one Dr. Jane Foster was in an usual flurry of activity. It would have to be, seeing how small it was and how many people were then inside it. Jane herself had to admit that even she was starting to feel overwhelmed, between Thor’s presence, his friend arguing with Darcy, and Dr. Selvig whispering warnings in her ear while she looked over her instruments one last time before her weekend getaway.

“Jane, I’m not certain that this is a good idea.”

She kept her eyes focused on the reading she was trying to get while she tried to figure out another reason that Dr. Selvig was, as usual, being a mother hen. Jane knew he meant well, but when she’d asked him to watch her things while she was away, she didn’t think he was going to be quite so upset about her bringing Thor along.

“Why?” she asked as she pushed some hair behind her ear and continued moving. Dr. Selvig sighed and came to a stop; Jane had to turn around to catch his answer:

“Because he just doesn’t understand these sorts of things.”

Jane shot a look toward the other end of the room, where Thor was leaning against the wall, watching Darcy triple-check her luggage. When he caught Jane looking at him, he grinned broadly, but soon turned his attention elsewhere. Only once she knew that Thor wasn’t listening did Jane say, “He’s not stupid, Erik.”

He sighed again. “I’m not saying he is. I’m just saying he’s not from around here and Vegas is enough of a trap for people from Earth.”

With a roll of her eyes, Jane decided to end the fretting right then and there. She looked back over at Thor and, lifting her voice, called “Hey, Thor!”

“Yes, Jane?”

“You promise you won’t get into any trouble while we’re there? That you’ll ask me questions if you don’t understand something?”

“Of course.”

Jane turned back to Dr. Selvig with her eyebrows raised. Clearly, Dr. Selvig got the message: Is that good enough for you? But apparently it wasn’t, because he shook his head. “Oh, come on, Erik! He’s saved the world twice now, what more do you want him to do to prove himself?”

“Not get anyone killed while you’re on vacation,” Dr. Selvig answered. “Of course he won’t do anything on purpose, Jane! But that doesn’t mean that nothing will happen.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that.” Both Jane and Dr. Selvig looked around to see Thor’s friend smirking at them from his perch in a chair. Unlike the rest of them, he seemed unconcerned by trivialities such as what to pack. Mostly, he just twiddled with his arrows and smiled to himself, like he found the rest of them unceasingly amusing. “I’m coming along to make sure Thor doesn’t accidentally break anything.”

Somehow, even from several feet behind Clint Barton, Darcy heard and answered that statement by slamming her suitcase shut. “What, you don’t think I could handle that?” she demanded as she came up to the rest of the group. He eyed her for a moment.

“Aren’t you like seventeen?” he asked.

“I’m twenty-two!” Darcy snapped, throwing her hands into the air. “And I’d like to see you taze the God of Thunder, Mister Bigshot.”

By that point, Jane was having to try very hard not to rub her temples. Darcy and Clint had been going at it since the latter had arrived via car with Thor four days ago. It was pretty obvious that Darcy thought Clint was attractive, but who didn’t Darcy find attractive? Jane wished that SHIELD had sent someone that at least wouldn’t think loud arguments were a form of flirting. Hadn’t Dr. Selvig mentioned a pretty redhead with an icy demeanor that spent most of her time around Clint? Even if Darcy found her attractive, it didn’t sound like that sort of woman would reciprocate…

“Look,” Jane said forcibly, and every head in the room swiveled in her direction. “Everything is going to be fine, okay? Dr. Selvig is going to man the fort, and I am going to enjoy having Thor around, and Darcy isn’t going to hire any male prostitutes–”

“I make no promises.”

“Should I make sure to look after you, too?” Clint asked.

“Do you want a taste of my tazer? ‘Cause I can go get it out of my bag.”

Jane rolled her eyes a second time and wandered off, the better to let Clint and Darcy’s voices fade into background noise. Maybe if she showed how stressed out she was getting, Dr. Selvig would leave her alone, too. As she moved across the room, Jane looked at her watch. Where were you? Being on time had never been your strong suit, but she thought she might go crazy if the trip didn’t get a move on soon.

“Are you all right?” Thor touched Jane lightly on the elbow as he spoke. Jane smiled up at him, though she winced a little as she did.

“I’m fine!” she said with a nervous laugh. “I’m just…worried, I guess.”

“If it is about what Selvig said,” Thor’s expression was full of concern, “I really do not intend to make trouble for you.”

“I know,” Jane said as she gently touched Thor’s cheek. “And he knows that, too. Erik just likes worrying.”

“I heard that!” Dr. Selvig called. Jane chuckled, that time more genuinely. Her smile seemed to make Thor feel more at ease as well, because he grinned down at her.

“I am glad that the fixing of the Bifrost and my arrival did not cause you any inconvenience…though I do feel as though I am interrupting your work with this trip.”

“You’re not!” Jane said. “This was already planned. You just have really great timing. Besides, it would be pretty boring, you sitting around watching me work all day.”

“Never boring.” Thor took her hand and kissed the knuckles. Despite that being a fairly common occurrence by that point, Jane still felt herself blush crimson. “You are so passionate that I could never find your work boring.”

“That’s–” Jane began, but she couldn’t finish her sentence. The sound of a blaring car horn cut across her words. Her mouth snapped shut; she looked outside to see a bright red car pulling up to the front of building. “She’s here!”

Before anyone could stop her, Jane pushed the nearby doors open and rushed outside. You were only just getting out of the car when she arrived, and when you saw her, you threw your arms wide open.

“Jane!”

“[Name]!”

Without further ado, the two of you hugged, both laughing. The sound of the door opening again announced the rest of the troop joining you, though neither of you broke apart at that. Even when Jane did step back to beam at you, the group went ignored.

“Thanks for inviting me along on such short notice,” you said.

“It was no problem at all! How have you been?” Jane asked. You cringed slightly, but still tried to pass it off as a smile when you answered:

“Well, I’ve been better.”

“I know. I’m really sorry about the wedding. I was so surprised when I heard he called things off.”

“You and me both,” you said with a snort, but soon your smile was back. “But that’s not your fault. I’m just grateful for something to take my mind off things.”

Behind her, Dr. Selvig cleared his throat. Jane gave him a sheepish smile before looking back at you. He would insist on proper etiquette. Jane’s father might have been dead, but he had done a pretty good job with his choice of father figure. She stepped up beside you, then pivoted to look at the rest of her friends.

“Everyone,” Jane said, “this is [F Name] [L Name]. We were roommates in college. She’s a biochemist up at University of Maine.“

“Was,” you said.

“She was a biochemist at University of Maine,” Jane amended, though she frowned as she did so. On top of everything else, you had quit your job? Things must have been really bad for you to want to leave entirely. That moment wasn’t the time to ask for more details. Maybe later, once the lot of you got to Vegas. “[Name], this is my associate, Dr. Erik Selvig, my boyfriend, Thor, his friend, Clint Barton, and my friend-slash-assistant, Darcy Lewis. More my friend.”

“Uh, rude,” Darcy said, though she grinned. “I’m the best assistant you’ve ever had.”

“You’re the only assistant I’ve ever had.”

“Doesn’t change my point.”

“It’s nice to meet all of you. I’m glad Jane has some friends down here.” Your eyes met Jane’s. “She was really shy in college.”

“Well, she’s not shy anymore, I can tell you that,” Dr. Selvig said as he stepped forward to shake your hand. You took his with a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Selvig. I once had an associate that thought most highly of you.”

Clint and Darcy both greeted you afterward, and then Thor kissed your hand. You smiled wryly and looked over at Jane.

“When did you start having all the luck with men?”

“When they started falling from the sky,” she answered. Your eyebrows shot straight up at that, but Jane didn’t elaborate. She still wasn’t clear on whether or not Thor’s identity was very much “secret.” Probably the truth of it would come out eventually from Thor himself anyway, once everyone got on the road.

As if reading her mind, Clint placed his sunglasses over his eyes and looked pointedly at the car. “I know I’m not the one in charge of this operation, but if we don’t get moving soon, we’ll miss our check-in time.”

“I never told you our check-in time,” Jane said, and looked at Darcy, who lifted her hands to her chest.

“What? Why would I tell him? The more in the dark he is, the better.”

“Are we competing to see who can babysit best?” Clint asked with a smirk. “Because you’re going to lose, Darce.”

“We’ll see about that,” she said haughtily. “And don’t call me Darce! We aren’t friends.”

Clint laughed. Jane stood awkwardly at the center of the group, looking between Thor’s pleasantly curious face, your bemused one, and Dr. Selvig’s expression of complete disbelief at the fact that she was actually going to go through with the trip. For a moment, Jane seriously considered calling it off. Between you being emotionally volatile and Thor…being Thor, and Darcy and Clint being determined to go at each other, the entire thing seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

But Jane was, if anything, ever-optimistic. Soon she was smiling again. “Well, let’s pack up and hit the road, then!”

“Yay!” Darcy said, darting back into the building to grab her things. Clint followed her at a slower pace, shaking his head.

“You still have a chance to get everyone to stay here, Jane,” Dr. Selvig said quietly. Jane shook her head.

“It’ll be fine! We’re all adults here, right?”

“I suppose.” He still looked doubtful. “You have my number so you can call me if anything goes awry?”

“Yes, Erik,” Jane said. “If Thor’s brother decides to send down another alien being to destroy the hotel, you will be the first on my list of people to notify.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I know, but everything is going to be fine.”

“Loki is imprisoned on Asgard after his attack on Manhattan,” Thor called. He was loading both his and Jane’s luggage into the back of your car. “He will not be able to bother us.”

“Yes, well,” said Dr. Selvig, “I’ve heard that before.”

“Erik…”

“I know, I know. You can handle yourself. Try to look after things, will you?”

“You know I will. And you’ll do the same here?”

“To the best of my abilities.”

“That’s all I ask.”

“Come on, Jane!” Darcy cried. “Let’s get going!”

Jane waved at Dr. Selvig and headed back toward the car. “Goodbye!”

“So, who’s driving?” Clint asked as she arrived. Jane looked curiously at you; you grinned.

“The car is rented under my name, so I’m driving.”

“I call shotgun!” said Darcy, and climbed into the passenger seat without waiting for anyone to argue. Jane, Clint, and Thor made their way to the back of the car.

“Great, that means I get to sit with the happy couple,” Clint said as he scooted over as far as he could go to allow Jane and Thor seats together. Darcy glanced back at him.

“Hey, you want babysitting duty so bad, you can sit there. I don’t want to watch Jane make out with anybody, even if the anybody is as hot as Thor.”

Though his eyes were hidden by his lenses, Jane could only imagine Clint rolling his eyes that that one. Before he could retort, however, Thor clapped him on the shoulder. “It could be worse, my friend. You could be looking after Tony and Pepper.”

A short bark of laughter burst from Clint’s mouth. “Right! If anyone needs to be watched in Vegas, it’s that guy. Let’s hope Nat gets that gig.”

“Are we all ready to go?” you asked from the driver’s seat.

Jane caught your eye in the rear view mirror and tried her best to smile. “We’re ready,” she answered, though not without another pang of nerves about whether or not the entire Vegas trip was a good idea. No one else seemed to feel that way at all, though, so what choice did she have?

“Let us go,” Thor said.

“Wee!” Darcy said, bouncing several times in her seat.

“Then let’s blow this popsicle stand!” you said, and the convertible rushed back toward the road. Jane twisted only once in her seat to see Dr. Selvig watching them go. When you turned a corner, she settled back down, trying to ignore how worried he looked. Because, really, what could go wrong, with two doctors, a political science student, a demi-god, and a trained government agent?

Thor nudged Jane’s shoulder and pointed toward one of the rock formations as you passed. As Jane attempted to meet his enthusiasm with her own, she really hoped that no one would try to answer that question. It sounded more like the opening to a bad joke than reality, and she’d had more than enough of people treating her reality like a joke.

[ifmywishescametrue]

WAIT I DIDNT KNOW YOU SHIPPED SAMTONY TOO!!! another oneeee #13 "I saw you looking at it last time we were in the store together, so I got it for you." for samtony

samtony is a very pure ship 😌 thank you for sending a prompt, and I hope you like it!

It starts on a perfectly average Tuesday morning.

“Why do I do this to myself?” Sam pants out, folding himself in half with his hands on his knees. “Every damn time I say it's the last time, and every damn time here we are again.”

Bucky claps a hand on his back and almost knocks him over with one touch. “Maybe you're a masochist, Sammy.”

Sam feebly flips him off, walking off the elevator on jelly legs. “I told you not to call me that.”

“You let Tony call you that,” Bucky points out, following him towards the kitchen.

"I actually like him. We're friends."

“That's offensive. I'm literally your best friend. Your favorite person. The Abbott to your Costello. The Tom to your Jerry. The Lucy to your Ethel.”

Sam snorts, “You're not even my favorite hundred year old man in this building. Also, if anyone’s the Lucy here, it’s me.”

Bucky scoffs, but whatever retort he had coming cuts off when they enter the kitchen. “Oh, damn, are those banana pancakes?”

He reaches for one on the top of the stack, and Tony slaps his hand away with the spatula. “Where are your manners, Barnes?”

“You’ve got like ten there,” Bucky whines. “Why can’t I have one?”

“You can have one when it’s your turn.”

Bucky gives him a dramatic pout that has no effect, and Sam laughs at the scene as he collapses into the stool next to Nat at the peninsula. She gives him a raised eyebrow and a quirked lip at the complete lack of grace.

Tony flits through the kitchen, exchanging lighthearted quips with Bucky as he goes. He has on an apron that Clint gave him at Christmas last year, covered in snowflakes and purple hearts with arrows through them in a mimicry of an ugly Christmas sweater pattern. Underneath it is a t-shirt dotted with Captain America shields, and the sweatpants have a cartoon version of the War Machine suit on the thigh. As usual, all of the colors clash.

A mug of coffee is placed in front of Sam with a small smile before Tony returns to the stove, and Sam is still drinking the first sip when he comes back with a plate of pancakes for him, topped with just the right amount of syrup and a dollop of whipped cream. Tony’s gone again before he can even finish saying thank you.

“Why is it his turn before me?” Bucky complains, and Sam laughs again through his first mouthful at how petulant he sounds.

“I like him the best,” Tony says, sending a wink Sam’s way. “And they’re for him, anyway. Your favorite, right?”

Sam’s eyes widen a bit in surprise. He doesn’t remember telling him that. “Uh, yeah, they are. How’d you know that?”

Tony shrugs, “I pay attention.”

He hands Bucky a plate of pancakes with another jab at his lack of patience, and the moment passes as quickly as it came, but it keeps happening after that.

Tony pays attention to him.

Maybe it was happening all along, before that morning with the pancakes, but just too subtle for Sam to take notice at first. Now that he has, though, he sees it all the time.

The next is just a few days later, when Tony knocks on his door holding a small, nondescript black box.

“What’s this for?” Sam asks, taking it from Tony’s hand. He doesn’t get an answer before he opens the lid to a simple, leather-banded watch. It’s nothing overtly expensive, nothing that screams ‘gift from a billionaire,’ but it is exactly something Sam would have chosen for himself.

“I saw you looking at it last time we were in the store together, so I got it for you,” Tony says simply. “Figured it would go well with that suit Pepper picked for you for the gala tomorrow night.”

Later, Sam will realize that Pepper had nothing to do with the suit choice that fit him perfectly, but for now he runs a thumb over the dark brown leather and says, “Yeah, it will. Thanks, Tony.”

“No problem,” Tony replies, and he lingers in the doorway for a while longer, lower lip between his teeth. Sam is about to ask if there was something else he came here for when Tony claps his hands together and says, “Well, I should get going. Workshop things to do and all that. I’ll see you at dinner.”

He disappears quickly, and that becomes part of it, too. Never dwelling on it when he does something just for Sam. Fleeing if he can, but sometimes staying when that’s what Sam needs instead.

“You look exhausted,” Tony says, and Sam manages a grumble from where he’s slumped on the living room couch, rubbing a hand over his bruised abdomen.

The mission took longer than either him or Bucky expected, and the fights were more intense. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out type of deal. Infiltrate the base, take out the lower level minions, and apprehend the leaders. But the intel wasn’t as accurate as they were hoping, and there were nearly double the number of enemies than predicted. No major injuries for either of them, but he’ll be sore for at least a few days. Bucky’s cuts and bruises healed on the way home.

Sam doesn’t notice that Tony left until he comes back with ice wrapped in a kitchen towel. He places the ice right on the worst spot over his ribs, holding it there until Sam replaces his hand with his own.

“It’s getting pretty late,” Tony remarks. “You should probably head up to bed. You’ll feel even worse if you fall asleep here, trust me on that one.”

It’s somewhere past midnight, Sam knows, but even with how tired his body is, his mind is still wide awake. The mission replays in his mind. Every faulty move, every chance to do better, every little detail both good and bad.

Sam shakes his head, “Not ready for bed yet.”

Tony takes the seat next to him, leaving an inch of space between them. “J, turn on the Saints game from yesterday.”

Sam smiles a little and asks, “Do you even like football?”

“It’s not the worst sport,” Tony replies vaguely. He settles back into the cushions and pulls the blanket off the back of the couch to cover them both.

“Yeah, what’s the best?”

Completely serious, Tony says, “Ping pong.”

Sam laughs, “That’s not a real sport. Pick something else.”

“Of course it’s real. It’s in the Olympics and everything,” Tony grins. “Give me one good reason it’s not a sport.”

“Alright, fine, maybe it’s real, but there’s no way it’s your favorite.”

Tony shrugs, “It’s entertaining sometimes. The professionals get really into it. There’s an awful lot of grunting involved.”

They stay up for a while longer, talking about nothing of importance, and Tony slowly shifts closer to him until that bit of distance is gone. His arm presses up against him, and Sam starts to have a hard time keeping his eyes open, it seems only natural to rest his head against Tony’s shoulder.

“You can go to bed,” Sam murmurs. “You don’t have to stay here with me.”

“I don’t mind,” Tony whispers back.

Sam does regret it a bit when he wakes up on the couch in the morning with a sore back, but there’s a fresh mug of coffee already waiting for him on the table, still warm and exactly how he likes it, and he smiles to himself anyway. That night is a shift to something different, and he knows it right away.

He starts to pay more attention to Tony’s interactions with everyone else, just in case he’s part of the rule and not the exception. Generosity is one of Tony’s best traits, but even so it tends to extend even further to him. More personal and frequent.

“So there’s this place in Brooklyn that claims to have the most authentic cajun cuisine outside of New Orleans. Want to come with me? Tell me if it’s true?”

It isn’t true, and Tony comes to him the next day with another one, until they’re on a quest together to find one that doesn’t make Sam miss home after just one bite. It takes them all over the city and into Jersey once or twice, and Sam doesn’t point out that Tony doesn’t even seem to like crawfish, no matter where it comes from. He doesn’t want it to be over if he does.

“This is pretty close,” Sam says. He thinks it might be place number eleven, but he lost count a while back. “Could use a little more spice, but at least they didn’t try to add their own spin to it.”

Tony’s watery eyes widen. “This isn’t spicy enough for you?”

Sam grins and shakes his head. “Remind me to bring you with me the next time I go home. You won’t know what hit you.”

Tony’s face does something complicated at that, before it settles on a soft smile. “Yeah, that would be fun.”

Sam fully gets it then, what exactly it all means, but he doesn’t quite know what he wants to do about it yet. Tony has taken up residence in a place in his heart that he wasn’t sure was capable of opening up anymore. He did it so easily, sneaking in like a thief in the night and catching Sam unaware.

Now the sound of Tony’s laugh makes his stomach flip. He seeks it out, telling him stupid stories and jokes to make it happen more. He stares a little too much to catch glimpses of his smile, and now he can see just how often Tony looks back.

It isn’t subtle anymore, this thing between them. Lingering looks, too long touches, and every quiet gesture all build up. Bucky teases him and Natasha gives him knowing looks. Steve tells him that he hopes they make each other happy, and Sam doesn’t tell him that nothing has happened between them like that. They’re still just friends, and they don’t talk about what any of it means.

“Do you want to see a movie with me tonight? There’s that weird one with the killer robots playing downtown,” Sam suggests, and neither of them say anything when Tony slips his hand into his in the darkness of the theater. It goes unmentioned, too, when Sam holds tight after Tony almost lets go when they reach the sidewalk afterwards.

It’s another late night when the last piece finally falls into place.

Sam is nursing bruised ribs again after another mission that turned a little sideways through no one’s fault. He’s still sweaty, dirt under his fingernails and dried blood caked around a shallow cut on his cheek, but Sam still asks JARVIS in the elevator to take him to wherever Tony is. It isn’t as surprising as it should be that Tony is waiting for him on the edge of Sam’s bed.

He stands there patiently while Tony looks him over, and he looks his fill in return. It’s strange how days away from him feel longer now. His balance is off center until Tony is around to set him right again.

“I missed you,” Sam murmurs, and Tony smiles softly.

“You were only gone a couple of days,” he points out, but Sam knows now that it’s his way of saying that he missed him just as much.

Normally, Sam would let it move on from here. Tony would lead him into the bathroom, gently clean up his scrapes, and click his tongue at every bruise. It would end with them on the couch, Sam’s head in Tony’s lap or vice versa, depending on what mood it takes. Sometimes he wants to hold Tony and remember that he survived another fight so he could come home to this, and sometimes he needs to be held to forget about everything else that was lost along the way.

But tonight he reaches out to grasp Tony’s hip, and he draws him in a little closer. The room is dimly lit, and each shadow on Tony’s face is accentuated. Sam can’t remember quite the first time he looked at him and thought the word ‘beautiful,’ but it’s all he’s thinking now.

“You love me,” Sam says. “For a long time now, right?”

Tony nods, and he wraps his arms around Sam’s waist, careful not to hold too tight. “You caught up eventually. Didn’t take as long as I thought it would.”

Sam smiles, cupping Tony’s face in one palm and stroking his thumb across his cheekbone. “How long were you expecting?”

“Maybe never,” Tony admits. “I would’ve kept trying, though.”

“Stay with me tonight?” Sam asks, because nothing more needs to be said for now. They both already know.

“How about every night?”

Sam leans in slowly, murmuring against his lips, “Sounds like a plan.”