#the only focus of this story is between tony and rhodey

[itsthestutterforme]

Wait For You (Steve Rogers x black!reader)

Summary: You haven’t seen Steve and his team since the Accords. So what do you do when they show up to your job asking for your help?

Prompt credit @raiurune : “I’m sorry.” “For what?” “For loving you,”

Notes: GIF is not mine, all mistakes are my own, angst, sad asf ending, story is set during Infinity War

**

The room fell to silence as Steve tells stares down Director Ross’ holographic gaze. “Arrest them immediately,” Director Ross tells Rhodey. “On it,” Rhodey says before clicking the button to end the meeting.

“It’s good to see you guys,” He starts, pulling Natasha in for a hug and Steve soon after. “Wow, you.. look like crap,” Rhodey starts, making the group laugh. He offers a seat to Vision and Wanda, seeing what he could do to take care of their wounds when Banner emerged.

The group moves to another room where they talk about what their next step is. There were aliens coming with a much greater army than the first attack on New York. They needed all the help they could get. There was a lot at stake and all that’s been on Steve’s mind since the quinjet landed at the Avengers Compound, was looking for you.

Had it been just a pass by, it would have been enough for him. But he needed to see you. Things between you are.. tense to say the least. Your relationship was elevating to the next stage before the Accords were introduced. You chose Steve’s side, naturally. But he made a deal with Tony to get you back in Ross’ good graces.

He didn’t want you to live on as a fugitive. Not after he knew how hard it was for you to get accepted into SHIELD’s academy. It didn’t matter if you were mutant. You deserved better. And so Tony and Rhodes took you in to sign the Accords and other acknowledgements and disclaimers. Legal tomfoolery stating that you legally belong to SHIELD and had to come at their beck and call.

And they abused that right for six whole months before you made an example of Ross in front of the entire board. And what was he going to do? Throw you in jail for exercising your freedom of speech? Slim chance. You had him by the balls at this point.

Today was your day off, so you were particularly annoyed with the blaring alarm that came from your phone. It was a call from SHIELD. You lifted yourself off the yoga mat, letting out a deep sigh when you saw it was Director Ross. You clicked the answer button, “Is something wrong sir?”

“Yes, there’s been a breach. Multiple breaches, actually.” The crease in your brow deepened when you heard the authority in his tone. “Is it serious?” “Yes, Captain Rogers and his team of fugitives just walked into the Avengers Compound. And we’re still running the logistics on the breach in New York and Scotland.” “There was a breach in New York?”

“Yes, Y/N. Do you happen to live under a rock?” “Well forgive me for doing yoga on my only day off, Director Ross.” You snap, not appreciating his tone. “We need you to come in to ensure that Rhodey arrests those fugitives. Put them in prison so we can focus on whether the breach in New York and Scotland.”

“With all due respect, sir. If there’s another invasion in the works, shouldn’t you want all the help you can get?” We’ll cross that bridge when we get it to. I want them behind bars. Now.” “On it, sir.” He ended the call and you were left in shock. This is not at all what you expected your day off to be like. Grabbing your briefcase and keys, you rush down the stairs of your apartment to call a taxi.

“So how long has it been?” Natasha asks Steve when he looks to the hall for the fifth time in fifteen minutes. “What was that?” Steve asks, slowly meeting Natasha’s gaze. “How long has it been since you seen her?” Natasha reiterates. “A little over a year,” he answers softly.

“Do you still..” “Always,” “She’ll come. No matter where she is. If she knows about what’s happening, she’ll come.”

Just as she said that, they heard her voice. “Rhodey, please tell me the world hasn’t gone to shit.” You rushed in, your eyes glued to your phone to read the most recent article about what happened in Scotland. “We can’t exactly make that promise,” Sam interjects. You freeze and slowly met everyone’s gaze.

Your eyes fixated on Steve and his on yours. “Hi,” you whispered and you saw Steve’s shoulders visibly relax. “Hey, sweetheart,” your heart sped up at the nickname. It wasn’t until you heard Vision groaning in pain as he leaned on the doorway that snapped you out of your trance.

“Vis, please lay back down.” Wanda pleads. You set your brief case on the nearest counter and took off your heavy coat, leaving you in your leggings and your fitness jacket. “What happened?” You asked as you approached Vision. “They want the stone,” he explains faintly. Your eyes fell to the wound on his side.

“I can try to heal you if you want or at least reduce the pain some.” “You can do that?” Wanda asks. “Yes, I would heal the artificial wounds of injured agents on missions. Let’s help him get on the table,” you took an arm and Wanda took the other arm.

Vision limps back to the table and slowly slides himself onto it. “It’s good to see you, Y/N.” Vision says, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. Even in pain, he gave compliments. “Just relax and take a deep breath, okay?” Vision nods and reaches for Wanda’s hand. The team files into the room as you rest your hand on Vision wound, your hand slowly heating up and bringing the fibers together.

The wound closed and Vision release a breath. He closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell in soft breaths. “That’s common after healing. The body needs rest.” You explain. “Thank you, Y/N. Really.” Wanda took your hand and gave it a squeeze. “Of course,”

You turned around to see Sam and Natasha watching you expectantly. Natasha came up to you first and wrapped her arms around you in a tight hug. “Love what you did with the hair,” she says. “I was about to say the same thing,” She pulled away and you reached for Sam, who gladly gave you a hug with a little shake.

“How is he?” You asked both Natasha and Sam. They looked at each other before Sam says, “He’s been love sick to say the least,” “Yeah, you might wanna go talk to him,” Natasha says with a smirk. You turned to look and already saw Steve looking at you, admiring you.

You approached Steve, stopping within an inch of him. “I.. know you must hate me after everything I di-“ you rushed into his arms, your head collapsing into his chest. “I could never hate you, Steve.” You said after a long pause. His arms tightened around you and you felt his lips press against your hairline.

“There’s so much I want to tell you,” he says softly. “Me too.. I wanted-“ your phone’s alarm blared and vibrated as it rested on the table. “It’s probably Ross checking in. You all have to leave before he sends agents here. If he hasn’t already.” You pulled away from Steve and advanced to your brief case. “And what about you?” Steve asks, following you.

“I can hold them off,” “And end up in prison,” Steve counter argues. “He’s right. We don’t know what we’re dealing with right now. It’s safer with us.” Natasha intervenes. “Where can we go that’s safe?” You asked. “I know a place,”

**

“This isn’t up for debate, Steve. I’m doing it.” “Like hell you are,” He says, trailing after you the moment you left the room. You offered to be the first point of contact between Thanos’ army and Wakanda. It’s essentially the best play you have to ensure your team will win.

“I’m not going to allow you to do this.” “What other play do we have? This is a war, Steve. You know better than anyone that there is no such thing than a war without casualties. I’m the best chance we have,” you continued to walk but Steve caught your hand.

He pulled you into the nearest room and locked the door. “Why are you so eager to sacrifice yourself?” “I could ask you the same thing. Why did you go into the ice, Steve?“ “To-“ “To save people. How is what I’m doing so different?”

“Because I’ve lived life, Y/N. I had a second chance. Your life is just starting,” “Wow, I cannot believe you really pulled the age card on me.” You scoffed and turned away from him. Your gaze fell to the floor as you rested your hands on your hips. You heard his footsteps near you but didn’t bother moving. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.

“For what?” “For loving you.” You turned around, nearly caressing your lips with his. You don’t move a muscle and neither does he. You pressed a chaste kiss on his lips to which he deepened. His hand gently held the back of your neck and you held his cheeks. Goosebumps erupted all over your skin, your body relaxing into his.

“I love you too,” you whispered against his lips. He leans down to press his forehead against yours, his hair caressing your cheeks. “I’m terrified, Steve. We’re running out of time and I’m scared we won’t be able to make things right before it’s too late,” You whimpered, tear swelled in your eyes.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life making it right. I’ll do right by you, and I’ll protect you until my dying breath. I promise.” He held your trembling form in his arms, gently rubbing your back to console you.

Little did he know, that was the last time he would ever get to hold you before you received a fate worse than dust.

[scoonsalicious]

Reminder: I am on a posting break for new content until May 23rd so that I can focus on writing WFLT...

In the meantime, please enjoy this second installment of Unwanted: Unusables, or, chapters from the first draft that didn't make it into the final cut of the finished story! Today, I have an early version of Chapter 6: Unattached. A lot of the beginning is the same (the dinner itself), but there was a LOT I added, then removed, from the end of the chapter. Jade was going by Jewel at this point in the draft, and Tony had gifted Pocket a Ferrari Sergio as his post-Civil War apology.

Why did I scrap this section? Easy: I couldn't realistically convince myself that Nat didn't know how to drive stick shift, lol.

Since this is the whole chapter (as it was) in its entirety, it's long AF.

Enjoy!

You and Bucky arrived at the common room an hour or so later, the sound of laughter filtering out from inside.

"Sounds like it's going well," Bucky turned to you with a hopeful smile. "Try to play nice in there, okay?"

"I'm always nice," you pouted, but when Bucky gave you a pointed look, you sighed. "Fine. It goes against my better judgement," you said, adjusting the collar of Bucky's shirt, "but I'll do it for you."

The look he gave you was indiscernible. There was warmth and affection there, but also an undercurrent of sadness in it that left you unsettled. You swallowed, looking away from him. "Alright, let's get this over with," you said, putting more conviction in your voice than you felt.

He took your hand, and together you walked into the common room. It wasn't hard to spot Jewel-- she was presiding smack dab in the middle of the room, telling some story that had Sam, Steve, Rhodey, Thor, and even Bruce all at rapturous attention.

"I'm going to go introduce myself real quick, then be right back," said Bucky, letting go of your hand and heading over to where Jewel had was holding court. The temperature of the air seemed to drop ten degrees without the warmth of his presence by your side.

You watched as he made his way over to stand beside Steve. In seemingly no time at all, Steve was making the introductions. Bucky took Jewel's hand, and to your surprise, he bent over and kissed her knuckles. Your mind's eye took you back to the day you'd met him, when you'd pulled your own hand back after he'd refused to even shake it.

Jewel demurred and looked away from Bucky, bashfully, before putting a hand on his chest and saying something that made Bucky laugh and caused his cheeks to blush.

"Careful, you glare any harder, you're liable to bore a hole straight through him," Natasha said, coming up alongside of you.

"What if I aim for her, instead?" you asked, reaching for the tumbler of alcohol she offered you and taking a sip to distract yourself.

"What happened to no-strings-attached, friends who happen to fuck?" Nat asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you've grown strings, Pocket."

You looked away from the scene in front of you. "There might be some growing of string, in theory," you mumbled to her. Nat was the only person you had confided in regarding your arrangement with Bucky. Of course, your friend had been thrilled that there had been something going on between the two of you, but she'd been more concerned about protecting your heart-- was this the safest thing for you to do? You assured her at the time you'd be fine, but now...?

"String Theory?" asked Tony, popping up behind you both with a glass of whiskey. "Seems like a heavy topic of conversation for a social gathering, ladies."

"How'd the interview go?" you asked, hoping to move the topic of conversation as far away from Bucky as possible, now that Tony was there.

"She's everything you said, and more," said Tony with a sad shake of his head. "She put on a good show, though. Cap was eating right out of her hand."

Disappointment coursed through you at his words. "Looks like he's not the only one," you murmured as you watched Jewel let out a coquettish giggle at something Bucky said.

You kept up your conversation with Tony to keep yourself from openly staring, but it was hard to concentrate on anything else. Your heart sank every time they shared a laugh or a joke, or Jewel leaned into Bucky ever so slightly. You found yourself tensing each time Bucky reached out and put a hand on Jewel's arm or shoulder in response to something she said-- all too familiar gestures that you'd grown accustomed to being on the receiving end of, not watching him impart on others from a distance. So much for his "be right back."

You hated yourself for feeling this way.

Eventually, Tony's personal chef, Raul, called everyone to the table for dinner and the little gathering around Jewel broke up. Normally, you would be excited-- you loved it when Raul cooked special dinners for the team, but tonight you were on edge. Following Nat and Tony to the table, you froze in your tracks while you watched Bucky pull back a chair-- your chair, the one you had sat in, next to Bucky, for every meal for the last year-- for Jewel, pushing it in for her as she sat down.

Your heart felt like it was being ripped in half. Your brain automatically began thinking up excuses you could make for leaving the room, but you knew that would only make things worse for you in the long run.

The air around you suddenly felt as though it had grown colder. Everyone around you had noticed Bucky pull out a chair for Jewel-- silently declaring to all that tonight, she was the one he wanted next to him, and not you, despite your unspoken ritual. Sam shot you a sympathetic look, and Steve, who had been getting ready to sit at Bucky's other side, moved to offer you his chair, instead, as if that would make up for Bucky's slight.

You grimaced and silently shook your head at Steve, not wanting to draw any more attention to the awkward situation you found yourself in. Instead, you made your way to the only remaining seat at the table next to Nat-- directly across from Jewel and Bucky.

As you sat down, Jewel looked up at you with a bright smile. "Hi," she said, voice like honey. "I don't think we had a chance to meet yet. I'm Jewel, but you can call me 'Vixen.'"

You looked at her, confusion leaking into your features.

"I thought the two of you met when you gave Vixen her tour earlier," Bucky said, apparently remembering that you did exist, after all.

"Oh, no," Jewel (you absolutely refused to refer to her as 'Vixen,' even in your own head) said with a dismissive laugh, "they had some little bitch of an intern give me my tour. I should actually complain to Stark about her, she had an attitude."

"No, that was definitely me," you said, fighting to keep the annoyance out of your tone, "attitude and all." You had literally wasted three and a half hours of your life escorting this woman around the Tower and she couldn't be bothered to remember you? Jewel didn't even have the decency to look chastised at calling you bitchy to your face.

"They let interns have dinner with the Avengers?" she asked in disbelief, instead. "Have to say, I thought it be a little more... elite."

"Pocket's not an intern," Steve said with a laugh, as though it were the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard, and you were grateful to him for coming to your defense. "She's an Avenger, just like the rest of us." You gave Steve a warm, appreciative smile.

"Thanks, Cap," you said, truly touched he had called you an Avenger.

"Well, she's more like Avenger-adjacent," Bucky amended. The words shouldn't have stung-- it was how you had referred to yourself hundreds of times, but you tended to reserve it for your low moments, when you were feeling unequal to Earth's mightiest heroes. Hearing the words come out of Bucky's mouth, as if he, too, shared in your belief that you were inferior to the rest of them... well, that fucking hurt.

Steve let out a surprised laugh. "Pocket may not have enhanced physical abilities, but she's brilliant. She's an expert in strategy, she's got a PhD in Mechanical Engineering and Computation, and she's got a black belt in Krav Maga. It's no exaggeration to say I'd be dead a couple dozen times over if I hadn't had her at my six. If anything, I think it makes her more important than the rest of us. We're here because of the physical things we can do; Pocket's essential to the team because of how she thinks. We're replaceable, Pocket's one-of-a-kind."

You were speechless at Steve's words, your throat tightening with the emotional lump that had formed there. That may have been the kindest, sweetest thing anyone had said about you, ever, especially on the heels of Bucky's comment. Catching his eye, you mouthed a silent thank you, wishing you could convey how much his words meant to you. He winked at you in acknowledgement.

"I just meant that we try to keep Pocket away from the dangerous stuff," Bucky backpedaled, weakly, in your opinion. "Can't risk her getting hurt." He smiled at you, but you just stared back, impassively, until he looked away, embarrassed. He knew you only called yourself 'Avenger-adjacent' when you were being hard on yourself. He fucking knew it, because he had told you to knock it off a hundred times.

"So, Pocket's an interesting name," Jewel said, and you were momentarily grateful to her for trying to move the conversation on to something less embarrassing for you. "Did your parents, like, hate you or something?" she continued with a giggle. Well, that was a short-lived respite.

"Yeah, they did, actually," you said, completely straight-faced, "but the feeling was mutual, so no love lost there."

Jewel's mouth dropped open in shock and you had the distinct impression you'd ruined whatever power play she'd been trying to pull on you.

Nat broke into laughter next to you, and soon everyone else around you was joining in. While only a select few at the table knew the full extent of what your parents had put you through, it was no secret that you had experienced abuse at their hands, and it was second nature for you to use dark humor to help you cope with it.

As the laughter died down, the small talk started up again. You were thankful for the distraction, but your appetite was gone, which was a shame, because Raul had done an excellent job. You pushed your food around your plate, occasionally nodding along as though you were paying attention to the conversations around you.

You tried to ignore the little glances and gestures that Jewel directed at Bucky, but your eyes kept flickering over to them. You couldn't help but notice the way his body leaned in slightly towards hers when they talked. Did he do that when he spoke to you? He hadn't even said a word to you since the horrible Avengers-adjacent comment.

"So, Bucky," Jewel said, her voice low and flirty, "handsome super hero like you, you got a girlfriend?" Your eyes snapped up, watching him, sure he was going to look to you, make eye contact. Something to acknowledge what was between you, that would make you feel like you were still in the same room, hell, on the same fucking planet, as him. But he didn't.

Bucky grinned, running a hand through his hair.

"Nah, no girlfriend," he said, glancing over at Jewel. "But I'm definitely open to the idea." You had been stabbed in the abdomen on a mission once, and that hurt less than hearing the words that came out of Bucky's mouth, and you had to resist the urge to get up and leave the room at that moment.

"Really, man?" Sam asked from where he sat on the other side of Natasha, his voice hard in disbelief. The atmosphere in your corner of the table had shifted. Natasha, Steve, and Sam all stared at Bucky with looks ranging from incredulity to flat out disgust. Maybe the two of you hadn't been as secretive as you'd thought.

You couldn't bring yourself to even look at Bucky anymore. It felt like a betrayal, the way his eyes had met Jewel's and not yours. You tried to focus on the conversation around you, but all you could hear were your own thoughts. How could he be so callous as to openly flirt with someone else in front of you? Had you meant nothing to him?

You took a deep breath, trying to steel yourself against the pain that was slowly building inside of you. You knew that the two of you were never anything official, but you had thought that there was something there between you.

As the dinner continued, you couldn't shake the misery that had settled in your chest. You excused yourself with no explanation, abruptly getting up from the table, and made your way back to your room. Once you were alone, you let out a shaky breath, tears streaming down your face.

How could you have been so stupid? You had let yourself believe that there could be something real between you and Bucky, but clearly, you had been wrong. He was interested in Jewel and you were just a convenient friend. Being kept in a holding pattern until something better came along.

You collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in your pillow as sobs wracked your body. How could you even face him now, knowing that he had no real interest in you beyond your friendship, after all the things you had done together? You didn't know if you could bear being in the same room with him, pretending like everything was okay between the two of you.

As you lay there, lost in your thoughts, you barely registered the sound of your phone buzzing from your bedside table. Picking it up, you saw you had a new message from Nat.

Do you want me to kill them?

You wiped away your tears, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Leave it to Natasha to offer such a straightforward solution. Despite your heartache, you couldn't help but appreciate her loyalty and fierce protectiveness.

You typed back:

No, as tempting as it might be. Thank you for offering, but I don't want you sent away for double homicide.

Her response was almost instantaneous:

I'm insulted you assume I'd get caught :)

The smiley face at the end was too much, and you actually laughed. You were so grateful to have her as your friend.

Thanks for having my back, Natty.

Any and every time, Pocket. You know that <3

Other texts started trickling in from the rest of your family. Everyone checking in to make sure you were okay, since you had left the table so suddenly and without giving a reason.

But none came from Bucky.

Your suite suddenly felt too small and hot-- you needed to get out, go somewhere that wasn't covered in memories of Bucky so that you could breathe. There was only one thing you did that always helped clear your head. You needed to go dancing.

You changed your clothes for the third time today, opting for a pair of skintight, red leather pants and a black halter top. You did your hair and put on some makeup-- just enough to mask that you'd been crying, but still enough to turn a man's head.

Shoving your phone, ID, and credit card into your back pocket, you left your room and headed back to the common room. You could have just texted Nat to ask her if she wanted to come with you, but you wanted to see Bucky's reaction to how you looked, if he even had one at all.

You were surprised to find the common room far emptier than you'd left it a little over an hour ago. It seemed as though, once dinner had ended, the gathering had broken up and people had started going their own way. Glancing around, you saw Nat standing by a window, looking out over the Manhattan skyline, but Bucky and Jewel were nowhere to be seen. You tried to ignore the rock that had taken up residence in your stomach.

"Natty," you called, getting her attention. She met you halfway across the room, a large grin spread across her face.

"Damn, girl," she let out a low whistle as she assessed your outfit. "You trying to give Barnes a heart attack?" she asked.

"No," you said, "I want to go dancing. I need to get out of my head. You want to come?"

"Absolutely, if only to keep you from making any decisions you might regret in the morning." She paused, assessing you. "He's walking her out, by the way. In case you were wondering where they were."

You had, but your stomach soured at the knowledge, all the same.

Down in the lobby, you were just about to call an Uber for you and Nat when you spotted Bucky standing off to the side with Jewel. They were standing far too close together for your liking. You hoped you could sneak by without attracting their attention, but Jewel caught sight of the two of you and began waving you over.

"Natasha!" she called (okay, so maybe she wasn't waving you over). "Come join us!"

Nat gave you a questioning look, silently asking what you wanted to do.

"Might as well," you muttered. "Night's already gone mostly to hell."

You and Nat made your way over to where Jewel and Bucky were standing.

"Did you come to say goodbye?" Jewel asked Nat, the eagerness in her voice palpable.

"Uh, no," Nat replied, obviously confused. "Pocket and I are heading out. We're going dancing."

"Oh. My. God." Jewel practically started jumping up and down. "Bucky, we should go dancing with her!" It wasn't lost on either you or Natasha that Jewel seemed to be purposefully excluding you from the conversation. Bucky, unsurprisingly, didn't seem to notice.

"Sorry," you said, suddenly struck with inspiration, "but the car's only a two-seater. Maybe next time."

Nat raised a questioning eyebrow at you as you picked your phone out of your pocket and dialed the Tower's garage. "Hey, Carl, it's Pocket.... Good, thanks... you?... Listen, can you have someone bring my Sergio to the front entrance? I'll be taking it out tonight... I know ... Great... thanks!" You ended the call and looked to Nat. "They'll bring the car up in just a minute."

Nat couldn't hide the grin that had spread across her face. "Finally! I have been dying to get my ass into that car forever!

"What's a Sergio?" Jewel asked. "I've never heard of it before."

"I wouldn't have expected you to," Nat said, giving Jewel a tight, fake smile. "Seeing as how Ferrari only ever made six of them."

"Pocket," Bucky said, the first words he'd spoken to you since you and Nat had arrived, "can I talk to you for a minute?" He took your arm and led you away from Nat and Jewel to a more secluded section of the lobby.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice low and with a hint of warning behind it.

"Going dancing with Nat," you said simply.

"Come on, you never drive that car. You're too scared of damaging it. So, how come the first time you decide to take it for a spin is right in front of Jewel?"

"What are you insinuating, Bucky?" you asked defensively. He looked at you as though you were a child lying about who broke Grandma's favorite vase.

"You're pissed about the intern comment, so you want to flaunt how much money you make. That's really not like you, Pocket. I'm disappointed."

You were physically taken aback by his words. "You honestly think I'd do something like that?" you asked, incredibly offended he could think such a thing of you.

"I didn't think so, but..." he let the rest of the statement hang in the air.

"I called for the fucking car because I didn't want her just inviting herself to join Nat and me," you snapped. "It has absolutely nothing to do with showing off how much money I have."

Bucky ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "God, Pocket, would it kill you to be nice to her for just a minute? I don't understand why you have it out for her so badly."

"That girl has been nothing but nasty to me all day," you said through gritted teeth. "And if you haven't noticed that by now, nothing I say is going to make you see it." God, you were so disappointed in him. The hurt and betrayal you'd felt earlier had subsided and now you just felt... sad. Deflated. "I don't want to argue with you, Buck. Especially not about her. So, can we just agree to disagree on this, and Nat and I can be on our way? I'm sure you have more important things you'd rather be doing than giving me the third degree, anyway."

He crossed his arms, giving you a hard stare. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Tilting your head, you pursed your lips and gave him a look. "Really? Everyone noticed it, Bucky. Everyone."

"Pocket!" Nat called out to you, preventing Bucky from responding to your insinuation. "Car's here!"

With a heavy sigh, you began to make your way to the front doors. "See you later, Barnes," you called over your shoulder. You were more than ready to get out of there and lose yourself in the music.

*

Hours later, you were coated in a sheen of sweat from dancing and completely and utterly shitfaced. You hadn't intended to get drunk, let alone this drunk, but once the alcohol started numbing your feelings, all you wanted to do was drown your emotions in it. Now, you were sitting in a booth in the club, head pressed against the wall, fighting to keep your eyes open. Nat had taken your phone and was talking to someone.

"Hey, it's Natasha. Can you do me a solid and meet up with us? ... Pocket's plastered and I don't know how to drive stick. ... It means I can't get her car home. ... She already shares her location with you, right? So just take an Uber. ... You can drive her back to the Tower and I'll take the Uber home. ... Did you forget how she dragged your ass home when you were drunk on Thor's Asgardian shit? ... I'd say you owe her. ... Text her phone when you get here; I'm holding onto it. ... Good, see you in a bit." She hung up and bent down so she was at eye level with you.

"Sweetie," she said gently, "don't be mad at me, but I called Bucky to come get you and bring your car home."

You scrunched up your face in disgust. "Bucky? Ew. I'm mad at him. He sucks."

"I know, honey, but he's the only other person I know who can drive stick who's awake at this hour, and your car's too expensive to leave in valet parking overnight." She brushed your hair away from your face as you turned to look at her.

"What's wrong with me, Natty?" you asked her, your emotions fighting their way back up through the haze of the alcohol.

"Nothing, Pocket. Honey, nothing's wrong with you. Why would you ask me that?" Nat's voice was full of concern.

"Why doesn't he love me, then? Why am I good enough to fuck, but not good enough to love?" The last of the words came out in a choked sob.

Nat wrapped her arms around you, rubbing her hands up and down your back in a soothing pattern. "You'd have to ask him that, sweetie. I can't answer it for him."

"It's 'cause I'm just a gross, used up whore," you told her. "'s all I've ever been good for-- sticking dicks in. Nothing else."

Nat held you at arm's length so she could look you in the eye. "Pocket, stop. That's Darren talking, not you, honey. You know that's not true."

"Then why doesn't he want me?" you hiccuped. "Fuck, Natty. 'm so in love with him, it hurts." There. You finally admitted it, not just to Nat, but to yourself. You were in love with your best friend, and you had been for a while now. You'd been too afraid to acknowledge it, to open yourself up to the idea that maybe you could have a real relationship with him, and now it was too late. He'd found someone else, and you'd missed any chance you might have had.

"I know, sweetheart," she said, embracing you again. "Everyone knew and, for what it's worth, we were all sure he felt the same way."

"He doesn't, though," you sniveled into her shoulder. "And why'd it have to be her? Natty, she's so awful. He could have anyone he wanted, why did he have to pick her?"

Natasha sighed. "Because he's a guy, and he thinks with his dick," she told you. "And since dicks don't have eyes, it makes it hard for men to see what someone like Jewel's really like. Especially when Jewel doesn't want them to."

You snorted, imagining Bucky's dick with googly eyes attached to it. "His dick was the best, Nat," you bemoaned. "I'm going to miss it so much. So many times, when we were finished, I couldn't even walk after."

It was Nat's turn to snort. "That does sound like some good dick, Pocket," she admitted.

"And his tongue," you sighed. "'s so long, you wouldn't believe--"

"Okay, Pocket, I think that's enough sharing, don't you?" You pouted but didn't say anything else.

Your phone buzzed then, and you looked all around for it before you watched Nat pull it from her pocket and look at the text you'd just received."

"Alright, Magic Dick's here," she said, taking your hands in hers and hoisting you up. "Up you go."

With her help, you stumbled out of the club, only tripping over your own feet twice, which you thought was fairly impressive, given the circumstances.

Outside, Bucky was waiting for you, a stony expression on his beautiful face. God, he looked so handsome. "Magic Dick," you whispered to Nat, then burst into a fit of drunken giggles that had you tripping over yourself all over again.

Bucky was immediately at your side, taking your weight off of Nat and putting it on him.

"Well, hey there, Magic Dick," you giggled. Bucky shot Nat a look over your head.

"How much has she had to drink?" he asked her.

Nat handed the valet the claim ticket for your car. "More than she should have, that's for sure."

While you waited for the valet to bring your Sergio around, Nat leaned down to look at you. "I'm going to get in the Uber now, Pocket. Bucky's gonna take you home, alright?"

You nodded and reached out to drunkenly stroke her face. "Okay, Natty-Nat. Love you."

"Love you, too, sweetheart." She kissed your forehead and headed for the waiting Uber. Before she got in, she turned to Bucky. "Don't give her any shit tonight, okay?" she ordered before closing the door, leaving you and Bucky to wait for the car alone.

"What's going on with you tonight, Pocket?" he asked. "You haven't been acting like yourself." The car pulled up and the valet held the door open for Bucky as he slid you into the passenger seat.

"Just wanted to dance," you murmured, tilting your head sideways to look at him as he fastened your seat belt. "Makes me feel better. And then there was alcohol. Oops."

Bucky let out a sigh as he closed the passenger door and made his way around to the driver's side. He had a point; you seldom got drunk. It reminded you too much of your mother, so you only ever let yourself get a little buzzed. But tonight was a special occasion.

Bucky pulled out of the lot and onto the street. Even at the late hour, New York was still alive with activity. You leaned your head on the windowsill and watched the lights as they passed by.

"You're supposed to be on my side, you know." The words were a whisper, and you'd spoken them into the night. If he had been anyone else, he wouldn't have heard you.

But he wasn't anyone else. He was Bucky. "I am on your side, Pocket. Always."

Though it felt incredibly heavy, you turned your head to face him. He looked so beautiful driving your convertible, the lights of the city reflecting off the lines of his face, the warm night breeze tickling his hair.

"You weren't tonight." Your voice was small, reflecting every bit of the self-doubt you'd felt over the course of the evening, every ounce of the pain.

Bucky sighed, his flesh hand gripping the steering wheel of the Sergio so tightly his knuckles were white. "I don't know what you want from me, Pocket."

You let out an exhausted sigh, the beautiful drunken haze fading from your system and leaving an ache in its wake. You're stomach growled and you remembered you hadn't eaten much dinner. "Can we get something to eat," you asked him, "and go somewhere to talk?" He nodded and changed course, heading away from the Tower.

A few minutes later, he pulled the Sergio into the well-lit parking lot of a 24-hour diner. Like lightning, he was out of the car and coming around to open your door before you'd even finished fumbling with your seat belt. He reached his flesh hand down to help you step out of the car, and to your surprise, didn't let go, hold your hand as you walked into diner together. Most likely making sure you didn't drunkenly fall on your ass and embarrass him, you thought.

Inside, the perky blonde hostess gave Bucky a long, appraising look while he asked for a table in the back. Even at this time of night, the diner was bustling with patrons. The sound of chatter and clinking cutlery filled the air, competing with the soft buzz of fluorescent lights overhead. Waitstaff hurriedly made their rounds, taking orders and carrying plates with a clatter of dishes.

When you reached the back, you slid into the booth the hostess directed you to, and instead of sitting across from you, Bucky slid in next to you. The hostess handed you your menus before casting a final, lingering glance at Bucky and walked off, leaving you alone with the super soldier and not sure what exactly you were going to say to him.

You unwrapped your silverware and began playing absentmindedly with the band that had been holding your napkin in place. You could feel Bucky's eyes on you, but you didn't turn to meet his gaze until you felt the fingers of his metal hand gently reach over and brush a strand of hair away from your face.

"You wanted to talk, doll," he said, softly, "so let's talk."

You bit your lip and turned to meet his eyes, the blue of them so soft and gentle as he looked at you. "I'm not saying this to attack you, Buck," you began, gathering your thoughts, "or to try and make you feel bad, but you really made me feel like shit tonight."

He swallowed thickly, but before he could answer you, your waitress approached the booth to take your order. You ordered a chicken Caesar wrap and a glass of chocolate milk for yourself; Bucky ordered a coffee and a large basket of waffle fries.

Once the waitress had left, Bucky turned back to you, taking your hand in his metal one and lacing your fingers together. "The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you," he told you. He brought your hand to his mouth, placing a tender kiss on your knuckle. "I'm sorry. I was a dick tonight. Finding out that Jewel has the same kind of abilities as I do... it made me feel less alone, like maybe I'm not just a fucked up science experiment that went horribly wrong."

"Buck..." you began, but he continued talking.

"It doesn't excuse how I treated you tonight, but I was so eager to get to know to her, to see how she copes with it. I've only ever had Steve to talk to about it, and Steve's... well..."

"Steve's fucking Captain America," you provided, understanding now where Bucky was coming from. "The perpetual boy scout. You don't want to open up to him about the darker stuff, because you're afraid it will change how he sees you."

Bucky closed his eyes and nodded. "He's already done so much to save me from the worst parts of myself; I don't want to burden him with any more than I already have."

You cupped his jaw with your hand. "Steve loves you, Buck. He will never see you as a burden. I promise you that."

He smiled at you, but it was sad. "I already cost him so much. More than you realize, Pocket. It just felt like, with Jewel, maybe I could have someone else to discuss those parts of myself with, someone I wasn't afraid of letting down."

Your first instinct was to be hurt that he felt he couldn't share those parts of himself with you, but you realized why he wasn't able to.

As if reading your thoughts, he said: "Please don't think it means that I want to share things with her instead of you, though. That will never be the case."

"But there are things that I'll just never be able to fully understand," you supplied, "because I'm not a super soldier. I understand."

He nodded, leaning his head down until his forehead was pressed against yours. "But I don't need to be friends with her," he said. "You said she was horrible to you, and I believe you. That's not the kind of person I want in my life. You're the most important thing in the world to me. I need you to know that."

You would have sworn you felt your heart momentarily stop. More important to him than Steve? Your cheeks grew warm at the implication.

"Bucky, I never want to be the kind of person who tells you who you can or can't be friends with. If talking to her helps you process whatever you need to process, then please, do it." You nuzzled your nose against his. "Just, you know, never flirt with her in front of me again."

He pulled his head back and looked at you, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. "Doll, are you telling me you're jealous?" You made a scoffing sound and playfully pushed him away from you. You were treading dangerously close to feelings territory, and you'd only just gotten back to a good place with him; you weren't about to risk it, but you weren't going to lie to him, either.

You ran a hand through his hair, leaning closer until your lips were pressed against the shell of his ear. "You know I've never been a good girl when it comes to sharing, Bucky," you breathed before taking his earlobe into your mouth and sucking on it.

Bucky let out a low groan and shot his metal hand over to possessively grasp your upper thigh, sending a shiver through you. "Be careful, doll," he growled in the way that had you clenching your legs together, "otherwise I'm liable to bend you over this table and fuck you so hard, you won't remember your own name."

You pulled away from him. "Promises, promises," you teased.

Before Bucky could follow through on his threat, the waitress returned with your orders. Without thinking, you handed Bucky half of your wrap at the same time he deposited a generous handful of waffle fries onto your plate. Catching your eye, he gave you an amused grin, and you both burst into laughter. The tension between you two seemed to dissipate, replaced by the comfortable banter you were used to.

The conversation throughout the meal was light, ranging from random anecdotes to plans for the next day. Occasionally, Bucky would say something that made you giggle uncontrollably, causing a few patrons to give you curious glances. But he just flashed them his charming smile, making most of them blush and turn away.

After finishing your meals, you scooted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you watched the diner's activity. His arm automatically wrapped around you, pulling you closer into his side. You could hear his heart beating steadily in his chest, a soothing rhythm that made your eyes droop sleepily.

"You alright there?" Bucky asked softly, noticing your languidness. You hummed in response, too comfortable to move or open your eyes properly.

"Gettin' sleepy," you admitted as you tried to stifle a yawn. "'s been a long night."

"Then let's get you home before you turn into a pumpkin, princess." Bucky helped you out of the booth, then tucked you into his side so you could lean against him as you walked toward the counter to pay your bill. You tried to hand Bucky your Amex card, but he shooed your hand away. "I got it, doll. Least I can do after everything I put you through tonight."

You didn't argue with him, not because you didn't have the energy to, but because you knew it was his way of making amends. He settled the bill quickly, leaving a generous tip, then led you back out of the diner into the cool night air. You leaned against his sturdy form as he walked you both back to the Sergio, opening the door for you and helping you with your seat belt, despite your protests.

"I'm not that drunk anymore, Buck," you laughed as he leaned over you to click the belt into place.

"Damn it, woman, be quiet and let me take care of you!" He pressed a quick kiss to your lips before closing the door and making his way around to the driver's side.

Though the drive to the Tower wasn't very long, you quickly found yourself lulled into a comfortable stupor, your mind at peace for the first time in what what felt like weeks. You barely registered when Bucky pulled into the Tower's underground garage, or stopped to give the Sergio's keys to the night parking attendant. You were vaguely aware of him picking you up and cradling you in his arms as he carried you back to his room.

Once inside, he carefully helped you strip out of your pants and halter top and into one of his shirts. Once you'd changed, he tucked you both into his bed, curling his body against yours until you didn't know where his body ended and yours began.

"Better?" he asked, softness threading his voice. You hummed in response, half asleep as your body molded into his welcoming warmth.

A soft chuckle rumbled through his chest, "Sweet dreams, doll," he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple as he adjusted the sheets around you both. His metal arm wound under your pillow comfortably while the other rested on your waist, giving you a sense of protection that no fortress could offer.

You curled closer into him, snuggling into his broad chest like a kitten seeking warmth. His steady heartbeat and slow breathing became your lullaby, luring you closer to sleep with every second.

He stroked your hair gently as you fell off into sleep, whispering words of affection and apology into the quietness of the night.

[aelaer]

The Earth-197320 series has been four and a half years in the making and the finale's finally set to publish. I've been working on it pretty actively for the last year and a half, so you will get regular updates on this story and I don't expect any delays in its posting.

I am super grateful to everyone who's stuck around for this long, and for any new readers, please feel free to check out the first story in this series if the summary and tags fit your fancy. I hope everyone enjoys the finale.

Primary Characters: Stephen Strange, Tony Stark Major Secondary Characters: Wong, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker, Vision Relationships: Primarily platonic with the above listed. Pepperony exists, but it's not primary relationship focus of the story or series. Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: Gen Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant with Movie: Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Sokovia Accords, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt Stephen Strange, In This Fic We Love And Cherish All Canon Characters, Stephen Strange is Actually a Doctor, Absolutely more tags to come as more fic comes

Summary:

The start of 2019 quickly turns annoying for Tony Stark as Stephen's promise of help gets delayed. He soon discovers that the Order of the Masters of the Mystic Arts have a dire situation that needs to be resolved-and quickly. And if he can get a bit of revenge while helping them get there, all the better for him. Stephen Strange, in the meanwhile, is caught between two promises with only so much time to give-and two worlds that he has now given his obligation to. His promises are the only way to atone for sins that are not his own, but ones still under his name. In the meantime, reality slowly breaks at the seams with each passing day.

Read the fic on AO3

[ad1thi]

life, the wrong way round

- or, my doctor who au

/

you don’t need more than a passing knowledge of doctor who to understand this, but if you haven’t ever watched the show here’s what you need to know - (1) “the doctor” has given up his birth name and goes by the doctor as a way to remind himself to dedicate the rest of his near immortal life to helping people, (2) it is very hard to kill the doctor as he tends to rebuild a new body for himself, (3) river song is the great love of his life and they deserved a lot of more screentime together, (4) river song is the first living creature to know the doctor’s name in almost 1000 years, (5)the doctor and river both time travel, which means they never meet in the same order. this means that everytime they meet, either river knows something about the doctor’s future that hasn’t happened for him yet, or the doctor knows something about river’s future that she hasn’t experienced yet, (6) this story - as in the show, is told from the doctor’s perspective

/

doctor! tony stark x river song! james rhodes, doctor who au, fem!james rhodes, major character death (but its not that important), 1.8k

//

The first time they meet is the day she dies.

Well, thats not strictly accurate.

The first time the Doctor meets Professor Rhodes is the day she dies, but it isn’t the first time that Professor Rhodes has met the Doctor.

“Timey wimey is what you call it,” she says with a smile, but there’s something forced about it that irks at him, “we keep meeting in the wrong order.”

“So let me get this straight,” He asks, but it bears repeating, “you know who I am - but I don’t know who you are?”

“Oh for fuck’s -” she leans in, so that her lips are close enough to press against the shell of his ear, “your Gallifrey name is Anthony.”

He stops asking questions after that - which he regrets when he wakes up handcuffed to a railing and she’s strapped to a machine.

“You know my name!” he calls out desperately, “There’s only one reason I would give someone my name.”

“I know,” Rhodey says, eyes unbearably soft even though she’s strapping herself in for certain death, “but I can’t risk you not meeting me again.”

“Time can be rewritten!” he begs, because he’s a Time Lord, he knows this stuff.

“Not our time,” she says firmly, “not a single second of it.”

He watches as the countdown goes 3, 2, 1 and his future wife dies, because he refuses to look away as his actions kill the only person who ever knew his name.

“She knew my name,” he tells Pepper, when they’re back on the TARDIS “thats why I trusted her. She knew my name and I had no idea who she was.”

He turns to her, unable to comprehend Rhodey’s actions, “she died so I wouldn’t have to - because she couldn’t stand the thought that we would never meet. I don’t know if I’m worth that kind of dedication.”

“You’re not,” Pepper says, because Pepper never really holds back, “but now you have the rest of your life to make sure you are.”

/

Their first kiss is in his new body, once he drops her back in prison after trying (and failing) to save a little girl from a space suit.

They’re fighting an alien race that they can’t remember exists, Peter might be pregnant (which is all sorts of confusing given his anatomy) and he can’t stop drawing all over his face.

“They’re called the Silence,” he tells FBI Agent Hill, “and the minute you stop looking at them, you can’t remember they exist. Now if you’ll excuse me - I have someone to pick up.”

Peter opens up the door to the swimming pool, Rhodey falls into it in a terribly dramatic fashion - and her clothes are sticking to her in uncomfortably attractive places.

“Thank you sweetie,” she croons, drying her hair with a towel, “so delightful of you to pick me up.”

He wants to know why the little girl is so important to the silence, but they refuse to tell him - so he settles for Rhodey’s Plan B - killing them all.

Then, he has to return Rhodey back to prison.

“Are you going to tell me why they’ve got you locked up in the Byzantium?” He asks, “or better yet - why you stay when you can so easily walk away?”

you can travel with me instead, he doesn’t say, let me find out why you know my name - but Rhodey’s eyes soften and her lips pull into a familiar smile, like she’s heard him say it anyway.

“I made a promise,” she says, before fisting her hands into his shirt and pulling him in, “but I won’t say no to a proper goodbye.”

Her lips are on his before he has anytime to react, and his hands flail about before carefully cupping her cheek and tilting her face for better access.

If this is my first kiss with my future wife, he thinks dimly, its going to be a good one.

He’s rather dazed when they pull apart, which is why she asks, “what’s wrong why are you acting like thats the first time we’ve ever done that?”

He blinks at her, “because it is,” and watches how he breaks her heart all over again.

“But! First time for everything right?” He says because he barely knows her, but he already knows that he can’t bear to see her upset - and he pretends like he doesn’t hear Rhodey whisper back “or a last,” choosing instead to hole away in the TARDIS.

/

He sees her sometimes, the Rhodey that he first met.

Rhodey’s future self - the version he plugged into the database of the biggest library in the world because he couldn’t bear to let her die.

He sees her in the corner of his eye, making fun and whispering and quite honestly in very good spirits for someone who’s talking to him.

But he only ever talks to her once, at Trenzalore.

She yells and screams and begs for the Great Intelligence to leave his time-stream alone, but its nothing compared to the noise she makes when she realises that he intends to enter it as well.

“You simply cannot!” Rhodey yells out, “please, I am begging you - you can’t enter your own time stream it will kill you.” 

Rhodey moves then, towards him as if to slap him out of her actions - but he catches her hand before it makes contact.

“I can’t very well leave Riri in there alone can I?” he says back, and there’s visible shock on her face when she realises that he’s been listening, “I have to go in and save her.”

“This entire time,” She whispers, “This entire time you knew I was here?”

“Rhodey,” he croons back, “when will you realise that you are always with me? I never answered because I thought it would hurt too much.”

“I could’ve taken it.”

“No,” his face shutters for a second, “I meant it would hurt me too much.”

He kisses her, bolder and braver than their first kiss, because he’s starting to understand what she means to him, how much she means to him.

“You never said goodbye,” there’s a hint of hurt in her voice, and he shrugs plaintively, “I didn’t know how.”

There’s tears in Rhodey’s eyes, but yet she smiles at him, “you don’t like endings. If you ever loved me, then there’s only one sort of goodbye I could ever accept - the kind that promises you’ll return again.”

He steps out of her embrace, suddenly aware that there’s people in the room that can’t see Rhodey, “Until next time Professor Jamie Rhodes.”

He watches her fade away for the second time, “goodbye sweetie.”

/

“When I first met the Doctor—a long long time ago—he knew all about me,” Rhodey had said to Harley once ,  “Think about that. Impressionable young girl and suddenly this man just drops out of the sky. He’s clever and mad and wonderful and… and knows every last thing about her. Imagine what that does to a girl.”

He’d always wondered what she meant by that - but staring down the barrel of a gun that she’s pointing at him - he no longer has to.

“Jamies Rhodes” he calls out, unable to keep the joy out of his voice, “this is a pleasant surprise.”

“Hello Doctor,” she says back, “its time for you to die.”

He gets it now, he thinks - as he evades her with just enough energy to make Rhodey think she’s working for it, but not enough to actually make her fail.

This is going to be her first ever memory of him after all, it deserves to be a good one.

She kills him eventually, shooting him in the chest - but she also uses the last of her regeneration energy to bring him back to him.

He’d like to say that this was the first and last time that Jamie Rhodes killed him, but then he’d be lying.

She was after all, stolen from her parents at birth and groomed for the specific purpose of killing him.

/

He had always assumed that the hardest day of his life, had been the day he lost Rhodey.

After all, he watched her die not really knowing what she was to him, and he spent every day since falling for a woman he knew was doomed to die.

It happens though, that The Doctor is occasionally wrong.

This instance - where he’s in a body that is so close to his first ever face that she barely recognises him, and listening to Rhodey talk about how he doesn’t love her back - this is an instance where he’s wrong.

"You don't expect a sunset to admire you back. When you love the Doctor, it's like loving the stars themselves," she yells out at Flemming - and he thinks that this might just be the thing that kills him after all.

“Hello sweetie,” he whispers when the penny drops for Rhodey, because otherwise he might be compelled to ask her something stupid like do you truly believe, after all these years, that I don’t love you?

The ship crashes, Rhodey remarks that she hasn’t had a chance to take his new body out on a test run - and he plugs in the co-ordinates to Darillium, because try as he might - he cannot delay the inevitable.

"Times end Rhodey,” he says, unbearably soft, “because they have to. Because there’s no such thing as happily ever after.”

There’s pain shining through every crevice of her eyes, and yet he can’t do a single thing to take it away.

The last living Time Lord, most revered and powerful living creature in all the worlds - and he can’t do this simple thing for the woman he loves.

“No Doctor you’re wrong,” she says back - fierce till the end, “happily ever after doesn’t mean forever. It just means time, a little time - but thats not the sort of thing you could ever understand is it?”

He talks about the Towers - because he’s never been good at silences, and he’s never been good at goodbyes.

but for once, Rhodey doesn’t take the bait.

“So,” there’s a shudder in her voice, “assuming tonight is all we have left, how long is a night on Darillium?”

“24 years,” he whispers, because he cannot save her life, he cannot give her more time, he cannot change the course of her ending - but he can give her this.

She leans in all at once, kissing him like its the very last time she’ll last him against her lips.

“I hate you,” Rhodey murmers against his lips.

“No you don’t” he murmers back - because it would all be much simpler if she did.

Fin

//

tagging mutuals who like rhodeytony: @lovelyirony, @omg-just-peachy, @theavengays, @frostysunflowers, @littlemissstark, @imposter-human, @rocknrollonthat45

[gloomysarchive]

Hi, Thor x Charlie’s angel. Tony needs help on a mission and recruits Charlie’s angels. Thor is instantly smitten with the black one.

A/N: I'm sorry, but I turned it into a list of bullet points bc I couldn't quite put my thoughts into an actual story-😭

Thor x Charlie's Angel!reader

❦︎ Ok, so first things first, Thor is a simp for black women don't @ me

❦︎ Tony called a meeting stupid early in the morning 😐

❦︎ While most of the team were out training or exercising (for example, Sam and Steve taking their 6 am jogs in DC), Thor, on the other hand, decided to sleep in. He has godly strength and endurance, what does he of all people need to train for?

❦︎ and he was not happy with being woken up this early, (little did he know that was about to change)

❦︎ They all gathered in the common room, everyone was either drowsy or wide awake, there was no in between (Thor, ofc was on team drowsy)

❦︎ Tony being Tony, goes on a long tangent about himself; how he knew some guy named Charlie, how he convinced Fury to let him recruit some Angels, and something about a mango and a hot tub

❦︎ Thor just wanted Tony to get on with this meeting so he could go back to bed. His eyes begin to gloss over with sleep, and he struggles to keep his eyes on the women on the screen.

❦︎ He begins to nod off, he still wanted his extra hour of sleep and he was gonna get it one way or another.

❦︎ that was until the next slide on the presentation flicks to your profile

❦︎ Every ounce of leftover sleep left his body and he straightened up his position, turning completely to the screen. He practically drowns out Tony's voice as his stormy blue eyes scan your S.H.I.E.L.D document, reading all of your strengths and abilities, your age, your backstory, and everything else that was mentioned on that sheet

❦︎ He was mainly focused on your warm skin, admiring the little details (freckles, acne scars, everything) 

❦︎ Like??— Who is this gorgeous queen on the screen and why weren't they in his presence yet? 😳

❦︎ The god of thunder felt his cheeks redden. He's seen the wonders that all the nine realms had to offer, yet you were the most magnificent. Even the brightest of stars would appear dim in your presence.

❦︎ Tony noticed how he suddenly regained focus and he smirked, realizing how much he was gonna love what comes next

❦︎ After a few moments the women on the screen entered the room through a side door

❦︎ You entered the room last, you hid behind everyone because you almost had an anxiety attack. You were working with the Avengers.

❦︎ Sure, you were an Angel, but this was the Avengers. The real deal, and it was an honor to be selected to join them for a mission.

❦︎ Once Thor saw you in person, he had the biggest smile on his face

❦︎ “Hi, I'm Y/N” You smiled at the blond

❦︎ “I'm Thor, im the god of thunder but I pretty sure you know that, I was on the news once, hey has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?”

❦︎ He's what the kids call ‘a simp’

❦︎ He doesn't stutter much, but he found himself stumbling over words, trying to think up a line, something to charm you (he felt like his normal self wasn't charming enough for you)

❦︎ He resorts to complimenting you non-stop (to him it's just telling you the ‘truths of the world’)

❦︎ “Your hair looks amazing”/“Your skin looks so radiant”/“Are you sure you're not a goddess, y/n?”

❦︎ This boy is head over heels, y'all 😭

❦︎ He'd battle monsters in your honor, he'd fight death itself head-on if it means he'd get to see you again 

❦︎ Thor tries his best to make small talk with you, both of you sharing small things like your favorite colour, favorite movies

❦︎ Tony all of a sudden he thinks he's Mr. MatchMaker and goes “I knew this would go well.”

❦︎ A few others on the team noticed and Steve brought up how workplace romance is ‘unprofessional’

❦︎ Then Tony said “Oh yeah? Tell that to Peggy 🤨” (he's foul asf for that-)

❦︎ So you and Greased Lighting (yes im gonna call him that) were automatically paired up for the mission

❦︎ Thor made it his sole duty to protect you during the mission, there was no way he was going to fall in love, only to lose you to some weak ass villain, that's not how shit works around here 

❦︎ ngl Sam's just glad he and rhodey aren't the only black people on the team anymore

(Sorry this was so late, I had a bunch of essays for each class, and studying for finals-)

[luna-rainbow]

In the airport fight, Wanda was headed for the Quinjet right behind Steve and Bucky, and would've made it had Vision not cut down that control tower and Rhodey not used the sonic cannon.

I think the climax to Civil War would be better if Wanda made it to Siberia for a few reasons:

1) poetically, her Lagos mishap was the excuse being used for the Accords

2) she's Sokovian, like Zemo

3) she's ex HYDRA like Bucky,

4) she'd get a chance to call out Tony for the house arrest and for dehumanizing her

5) she'd empathize with Tony's thoughts when Zemo plays the video and try to reason with Tony before he attacks Bucky

6) she's a foil to Zemo

And many other reasons.

It's interesting in light of the recent book that's come out to see that TPTB actually wanted the Avengers to reunite for the final showdown against the super soldiers but was blocked by M&M and the Russos. Aside from the fact that this would have solidly turned Cap 3 into Avengers 3, it would have been a less anti-climatic way to end the super soldiers subplot. It also would have started IW and EG with a less bitchy Tony.

Once you consider that Cap 3 is in fact IM 4, the narrative choices fall into place. It was poignant for Tony to end the movie with just the three of them, and even Zemo and T'Challa stepped out of the final act to allow the conflict to focus entirely between Steve, Tony and Bucky. To the Russos, the story was never about the Accords or Hydra. There's very little acknowledgement after AoU of the role Hydra played -- there was no mention of it in Steve's personal quest to end them, Bucky's trauma at their hands, Pietro and Wanda's choice to join them, or of their role in SHIELD's activities. The climax of the story was - sadly - about Tony's personal loss. Not Steve or Bucky's, but Tony's. Zemo lured Bucky back to the chamber that imprisoned and tortured him, and the only emotional fallout from that is...Tony's grief about the video.

While I do think Wanda would have added a different perspective, I don't think her presence is personal enough for Tony. I don't get the sense that she and Tony ever repaired their relationship after AoU; from the way Tony calls her "weapon of mass destruction", he neither trusts nor respects her. If he doesn't even have the rational mind to listen to Steve, he's not going to listen to Wanda in that moment.

[beyondthebarrier]

Starker Festivals Summer Bingo

Prompt: Didn't Know They Were Dating | Title: Rising to the Occasion | Ao3

Summary: The media seems to think that Tony and Peter are dating. In fact, so does Rhodey. And Aunt May. And the team...

Don't worry. Tony sets the story straight.

This is my first proper Starker fic so bear with me!

It wasn’t abnormal for Peter to be alone when he woke up, if he was being honest. Tony was rarely still in bed in the mornings, presumably quick to dismiss himself from the actions of the night before. Peter never minded, usually always able to find the man elbows deep in some project that he might be able to pick the genius’ brain about.

“FRI, can you start me some coffee?” Peter asked quietly, his voice a little raspy from sleep.

“Of course. Good morning, Peter.”

“Good morning, FRIDAY.”

Peter got to his feet, finding his sweatpants from the day before and Tony’s discarded Black Sabbath shirt before making his way directly to the kitchen for the promised cup of coffee. It took a few sips for him to realize that he heard voices coming from the living room - he’d assumed he was the only one in the penthouse. He recognized the second voice easily though so he wasn’t shy about heading that way.

“Look who’s awake,” Tony announced with a smile when Peter and his bedhead popped up in the open door frame. Rhodey looked his way and Peter waved around his coffee mug.

“Hope you’re here on your own accord and not because he dragged you for some nonsense, Colonel,” Peter greeted with a smirk towards the man in question.

“I’m not here for damage control this time, miraculously,” Rhodey replied easily, chuckling.

“In that case, I’ll leave you two to it. Tones, I’m gonna shower and head downstairs. It was good to see you, Colonel!”

As Peter made his way back towards the bedroom, Rhodey looked over at Tony and sighed at the look on the billionaire’s face.

“He looks good on you, Tony.”

--

“Here, May, I’ve got it,” Tony swooped in, grabbing the woman’s empty plate before she could fully get to her feet. Peter rolled his eyes but stood as well, his own empty plate in hand.

“I don’t know what you’ve done to him,” Peter started, exasperated. “This man would rather buy new dishes than wash them at his own house and then he sits here and readily offers when we’re over here. Please, I need to know your secret. I’m tired of coffee rings in all the mugs.”

“Oh it’s easy, Peter. He’s scared of me,” Aunt May said in a faux whisper, winking at Tony before she settled on her sofa with the rest of her glass of wine as the boys worked to clean the kitchen. Tony washed while Peter absentmindedly dried and put away dishes, chatting away quietly to the older man. When Peter turned back to face the man, Tony quickly smeared soap bubbles onto Peter’s cheek, grinning. With a laugh, Peter reached into the sink, splashing the man with the water in the sink, despite the expensive suit Tony was wearing. Tony didn’t seem bothered as he grabbed the young man around the waist and pulled him in close for a hug, getting him wet as well. Peter squeaked, making Tony lean his head back in laughter before kissing Peter’s forehead and letting him go. Only Tony noticed the look that May was giving them both and he just smiled before turning back to finish cleaning.

As they left, Aunt May wrapped both men in crushing hugs to say goodbye. As Tony helped Peter into his jacket, he looked over his head at the woman, smiling.

“It’s our turn next Sunday, May. Be at the penthouse at seven.”

--

“I thought the little spider was supposed to be here? I brought ale for him to try!” Thor announced, holding up a large jug full of… well, not even Tony was eager to try the liquid sloshing around. Peter had been excited with the prospect of an alcohol that would give him the proper effects but Thor was right - Peter was nowhere to be found.

“Maybe he’s just running late,” Tony replied with a casual shrug, even as he slid his phone out to send yet another text to the missing member of the team. It was meant to be a little game/movie night and Peter was usually the one coercing him into attending so his lack of punctuality was bothering Tony. However, it wasn’t until Natasha and Steve also pointed out Peter’s absence that Tony excused himself. They weren’t sure exactly where he was going until they saw the suit fly off from the landing deck, heading in the direction of a shitty little apartment in Queens.

When Peter didn’t answer the door, Tony let himself in with his key, calling out Peter’s name frantically. It was a studio apartment and Peter groggily sat up in bed, blinking at the man who had just rudely interrupted his sleep.

“Pete, there you are. You’re missing game night, why are you- You’re burning up, sweetheart!” Tony sat on the edge of the bed, the back of his hand pressing against Peter’s forehead.

“M’cold,” Peter mumbled, trying to wrap the blankets around himself again so he could lay down.

“When’s the last time you’ve eaten?”

“Not hungry..”

“Okay, you’re definitely sick,” Tony pointed out, jumping to his feet to search the kitchen for food. Peter spent so little time here now that the cabinets were practically barren. There was certainly no cans of soup or really… anything. With a wince, Tony reached for a half-empty jar of peanut butter and a spoon, heading back to the bed.

“Tones, m’not hungry,” Peter whined as he scooped peanut butter out of the jar.

“Sweetheart, you need calories. Just a little bit and some water and I’ll let you go back to sleep. Your body will kick this in no time but it needs fuel to do it,” Tony said firmly, lifting the spoon to Peter’s lips. He opened them, accepting the spoon reluctantly and smacking his lips as he tried to get the peanut butter down. Tony got up, fixing him a cup of water. Between the two of them, they painstakingly got a full eight ounces of water and four big spoonfuls of peanut butter into the enhanced man before Peter gave up, flopping back into the pillows.

“Are you going back to game night?” he asked Tony, a rather pitiful look on his face. Tony shook his head, laying down beside him and wrapping his arms around him.

“No, I’m not going anywhere. Go back to sleep, I’ll be right here,” he assured, running his fingers through Peter’s sweaty curls and kissing his forehead.

--

Peter had decided to leave the tower for his lunch break, the idea of a sandwich from the deli down the block on his mind all morning. It was a beautiful day and he’d been looking for an empty space on a bench when he noticed the pointing in his direction from a few people by a magazine stand. He glanced down at himself, trying to see if maybe his shirt had come untucked or he had trash trailing on his shoe but he didn’t spot anything. However, he did hear the words, ‘Tony Stark’s boyfriend’ come from someone’s mouth and his stomach immediately twisted. He couldn’t stop himself from going over to the stand, dreading the idea of seeing Tony’s smiling face on a magazine cover with some- Oh. It was him. Peter laughed, picking up the glossy booklet. They’d attended a gala on Saturday evening for SI and the photo on the cover was the two of them all dressed up and smiling at each other in front of some rose bushes. ‘Tony Stark and boyfriend, Peter Parker, Rose to the Occasion.’ Peter scoffed at the title, setting it back down and reaching for his phone. He wasn’t sure Tony would find it as amusing as he did but he was just relieved that it hadn’t been someone else on that cover.

Thankfully, Tony didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He had already known about it, getting the alert from PR hours before, and even seemed a little concerned that Peter might be upset about it.

“Do you want me to put out a statement about it?” Tony asked him over the phone, as if sensing Peter’s slight discomfort.

“You won’t be rude about it or anything, right? Just clarify, sweet and simple?” Peter asked, noticing that he was still garnering a bit of attention. Thankfully, New Yorkers themselves were usually nonchalant about that kind of thing so it was only the tourists that were trying to draw attention to him.

“Of course. I’ll get it out right away,” Tony assured him.

Peter had no reason not to believe him. He thanked him, hung up, and moved further away from the news stand. He muted his phone before digging into his sandwich, taking advantage of the rest of his lunch break before heading back to work. It wasn’t until he was in the elevator going back up to R&D that he noticed his phone was blowing up. He sighed, expecting a tweet or something from Tony laying out the truth but what he found caught him off guard.

Relationship. Tony said relationship. He hadn’t claimed that they were just friends or fuck buddies or whatever. He said relationship. Peter was so hyperfocused on the words that the next thing he registered was FRIDAY’s voice.

“Mr. Parker? Mr. Parker, are you alright? Your vitals are concerning, should I alert Mr. Stark? ..Peter?”

“No! No, FRIDAY, no, don’t alert him, I’m fine!” Peter scrambled to answer, glancing up to see what floor the elevator was at currently. “Please don’t. I’m fine. I’m answering you, I’m fine!”

FRIDAY reluctantly agreed not to tattle just as the elevator stopped at his floor. Peter wasn’t feeling very fine, despite his protests, as he stepped out. He expected lots of stares and whispers, perhaps even direct comments about him ‘dating the boss.’ But there was nothing. Either nobody here had seen it yet or they just didn’t care. That certainly helped matters as he made his way to his table, intending on trying to focus on work but finding himself scrolling through the comments on the post instead. It was full of congratulatory messages from strangers but their friends didn’t seem very surprised. Rhodey, Nat, Ned, even Steve commented, all seeming as if this was barely news to them.

Peter got to his feet, heading back to the elevator to get to Tony’s lab. As the doors slid open on Tony’s R&D floor, Tony was standing there waiting to get on. The man flashed him his signature smile, stepping aside so he could get out.

“I was just coming to see you. May texted, said you seemed a bit out of it. Are you okay? I know the attention can be a lot but if I repeatedly make it clear that I want your privacy to be respected, it shouldn’t get too bad. Trust me, the fangirls will go rabid when reporters get too in-your-face about something,” Tony explained, leading Peter towards his office. Peter didn’t respond, staring straight ahead as Tony closed the door behind them. “They’ll want to protect you at all costs,” Tony continued, heading for the sofa instead of his chair. Peter remained standing, still just staring. Tony finally realized something was up and quirked an eyebrow at him, curious. “Pete?”

“Boyfriend.” Peter said blankly, staring at the man.

“Um, yes? I also have a name you can address me by.”

“Boyfriend.”

“Oookay, that works too. Peter, what’s wrong?”

The younger man started pacing the length of the office and Tony sighed, covering his face with his hands for a moment before regaining composure.

“FRIDAY, diagnose him. Fever? Has he been drugged? Is he having a psychotic break?”

“Sir, it appears that Peter is in a state of shock,” FRI replied easily. “His heart rate is elevated but nothing to be concerned about.”

“Shock over what?” Tony asked, watching as his partner continued to pace. He could practically see the gears turning in the boy’s head.

“It seems that Peter was not aware that the two of you were dating, Sir.”

Tony let out a humorless laugh while Peter came to a halt, his cheeks tinting pink as he stared at the floor. Realizing that there may be some truth in what FRI was telling him, Tony got to his feet, carefully approaching Peter.

“She’s right, isn’t she?” He asked softly, frown lines deeply engraved into his forehead. Peter refused to respond, not even looking up. Tony sighed, cupping the man’s chin and gently lifting it. “Pete? Is she right?”

Instead of answering, Peter’s face crumpled.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, hiding his face in his hands. Tony immediately pulled him into his chest, wrapping his arms around him securely. “I didn’t know that’s what this was.”

“That means I fucked up somewhere, Peter. Not you,” Tony soothed, rubbing the boy’s back. “If it had just been sex, I could understand, but Pete, sweetheart. I go to Sunday dinners with your Aunt. I host Sunday dinners for your Aunt. I take care of you when you’re sick, I let you wear my clothes.. Baby, we practically live together.”

“You never asked! You never used the words dating or boyfriend or-or-or relationship or anything,” Peter defended, lifting his head to look at the older man.

“Eight months ago, we laid in bed and I told you that I never wanted this to end. That I wanted forever with you,” Tony explained. “You agreed. I thought we were pretty clear from there on.”

“I thought that was pillow talk!” Peter exclaimed. “I’m so angry right now that it’s not even funny.”

Tony frowned once more, immediately letting Peter go and holding his hands up in surrender.

“Angry? You’re angry that I thought we were dating?”

“I’m angry that I’ve been holding back for eight months because I thought I wasn’t allowed to have you! I don’t kiss you first or touch you first or cuddle you whenever I want because I didn’t want to be too much for you!”

Tony’s face broke out into a grin, seeming relieved.

“Well, let’s rectify that right away.”

[margarethx]

I feel like one of the reasons why Sam and Bucky work with each other so well as a duo in is the fact that they are at the same (or almost the same) level of importance when it comes to the MCU. They are in a similar position as characters.

Let me explain...

----- ------- -----

Before tfatws Sam Wilson was a character from the background. He is important for the overall storyline, but he’s not at the front of any movie. Even in ca:tws he was less relevant to the plot than e.g. Natasha. He’s necessary and there is a significant reason he’s there at all, but at the end of the day it’s a Steve Rogers’ movie. Not Sam’s. And even if calling Sam a sidekick is most of the time insulting - at least within the MCU - he kind of is a sidekick. That’s the role he has in the narrative. There’s a main hero (Steve) and a guy who follows his lead to help (Sam). Of course Sam has his own life and issues that have nothing to do with Steve, but we don’t even know them at this point. And here we’re looking at Sam through the lense of the Captain America movies.

Almost every scene with Sam before tfatws was connected to Steve. Sam joined the fight in ca:tws to help Steve. He was in AoU, because Steve invited him to Stark’s party. He was in Civil War, because Steve asked him to join the Avengers and he wanted to help Steve with finding Bucky... Similarly, Sam had his own opinions in Civil War, but we only hear them when it’s relevant to Steve’s story. (When Sam and Rhodey argue about the Accords they stand behind Steve, because the scene is about him making the decision.)  Even in Ant-Man, where there is no Steve at all, Sam mentions him after Scott left. Etc, etc. You get the picture.

And the same goes for Bucky.

We only see him in ca:tfa where his story is intertwined with Steve’s. When Steve gets his ass kicked before he got the serum. Or when they go to the Expo. Or when they fight during the war. Even when Bucky is saved by Steve it’s less about him being finally free and more about Steve finding his friend again. In ca:tws their meeting is told mostly from Steve’s perspective. It’s a film about Steve facing the Winter Soldier not the other way round. And later viewers don’t see Bucky’s life as a fugative untill the moment he becomes important to Steve’s storyline again in Civil War. And so on and so forth. It goes like that basically from Bucky’s first appearance in the MCU to the last scenes of Endgame.

When Steve and Bucky are fighting on the same side Bucky’s role could also be described as: “a sidekick”. Just like Sam’s.

----- ------- -----

And I honestly believe that this is the reason why pairing Sam and Bucky together makes so much sense. Even if you put aside the obvious chemistry between the characters and their actors it just works for them to join forces in multiple scenes.

Both of them walked in Steve’s shadow before they got their own show. Not because they’re less interesting as characters or because Steve’s storyline is better, but because Steve is one of the main heroes in the entire MCU while Sam and Bucky were always orbiting around him in a way. And we, as the viewers, learnt very little about them outside of the stuff that was important for their relationships with Cap.

Why do we know about Sam losing Riley? Because Steve also lost someone who fell to their death. Why do we see Bucky killing Stark’s parents? Because it’s a movie about Steve’s conflict with Tony (mostly) and it’s just one of many things that makes the conflict worse. I’m not implying it’s unfair to the characters or something (even though I’d love to see them having more sceentime in general)... It’s just the role they serve in a story, because someone has to be in that position for the narrative to flow. You cannot make every character “the main one”. That wouldn’t really work.

----- ------- -----

But then... When Sam and Bucky are together we suddenly see much more about both of them outside of their connection with Steve. It’s almost like destiny how they always end up in close proximity. They seem to naturally gravitate towards each other ever since they’ve met. And it looks like taking them away from a big, important character (Steve) makes them shine brighter. Most of the little moments they shared became iconic at some point when they were just allowed to exist together.

And again... I’m not saying that I don’t enjoy seeing their interactions with Steve, because I do. Especially Sam’s. But it very often feels like they interact with each other because it’s important for the progression of the plot. When Steve talks with Sam it’s often about their next mission, or how Sam helps him with something, or to show that Steve has difficulties with adjusting to the modern world. And when Steve talks with Bucky (at least after ca:tfa) I always feel like there should be a narrator’s voice talking over a scene, telling me: “see? they were friends in the past, before the war... this is important! pay attention”.

Meanwhile, when Sam and Bucky interact, some scenes just... happen for no purpose. Like they interact, because they want to, not because the script told them to. There’s absolutely no plot-related reason for showing Sam and Bucky sitting in that tiny car in Germany. Or for showing them standing together in Infinity War when Thanos attacks.

What the two of them have is completely different from what they had with Steve in the past.

----- ------- -----

To be honest, it always bothered me a little how Steve never really did anything for Sam (freeing him from prison where Sam landed for helping Steve doesn’t count). It’s always Sam making Steve feel better and standing by his side. So it’s a very glaring contrast, when we got to see a whole separate montage where Bucky visits Sam and helps him fix the boat that was important to his family. Or when he casually throws a shield with him for practice, asks Sam if he’s okay, and brings him a new super-hero suit even though Sam never even asked for these favours or suggested that he needs Bucky’s help.

And I know that some people won’t like what I’m about to say, but Steve and Bucky really don’t act like they are particularly close to each other most of the time (especially after their first movie). I believe that they were friends before everything went to shit, but after ca:tws? Not really. They cling to that label, because of their shared story and because Steve cannot let go of the past, but they just... don’t act like they are friends anymore. It’s like they both changed too much and don’t know how to deal with that. So they don’t. It’s like Steve is only attached to some past version of Bucky that no longer exists and the new Bucky doesn’t fully match his expectations. Sam on the other hand has no expectations at all. He builds his relationship with Bucky from the fresh foundations. The creators don’t need to bring back some shared memories from 70 years ago to prove that these two have a strong connection. They just show them doing stuff together. The argument about The Big Three? Petty revange over a car seat? Discussing music tastes? Having “sleepovers” and giving each other slightly mean, but harmless nicknames? Discussing mental health? Having staring contests? Watching goddamn sunsets? That’s what people who are close to each other do.

And that’s why these two simply... work.

It’s not just implied or explained in a flashback. “Look, viewer. They are friends. I know they don’t act like they are, but trust me. They went for a dinner a decade ago... offscreen.” Sam and Bucky even refused to call themselves friends! They’re a couple of guys (allegedly). And yet I still know they like each other very much from the way they interact, speak about each other, or look at each other.

And I really think that one of the main reason’s why it works like that is because they’re both equally crucial (or irrelevant at times) for the story. Both are just as (un)necessary for the plot to move on. Sometimes they are very important and sometimes the plot would easily work without them. ca:tws could’ve happen without Sam. Civil War could’ve technically happen without Bucky if they put more emphasis on the Accords. There were both certainly unnecessary in Infinity War or Endgame. But there’s no way the events in tfatws would’ve happen without both of them being there together. Sam might’ve never taken the shield and become Captain America if it wasn’t for Bucky. Bucky would’ve spent countless years trying and failing to make amends and never finding peace if it wasn’t for Sam. The fandom likes to focus on only Bucky, but you wouldn’t get this much content about him if there was no Sam to share the story with him.

Because they just fit together perfectly.

----- ------- -----

Last disclaimer (because I really don’t want people to get the wrong impression): I actually like Steve. And I like Samsteve (romantically or platonically). Platonic Stevebucky is alright too. But it just kind of... pales in comparison when you see what Sam and Bucky have. Most MCU relationships pale in comparison if I’m being honest.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

It’s Always Been You ~ 142

OUT OF TIME MASTERLIST

IT’S ALWAYS BEEN YOU MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,590ish

Summary: Y/N tells Tony who her choice has always been. The team starts to learn more about the Stones.

Notes: You must read Out Of Time in order to understand this. The chapter numbers continue from Out Of Time. (None of the gifs are mine.)

Previous on Out Of Time…

“Tony…” She tried to turn away, but Tony grabbed onto her arms, keeping her facing him.

“No, you don’t get to run away right now. I need an answer. If we’re going to do this, bring everyone back. I need to know the truth, once and for all. That I wasn’t the second choice, that I wasn’t just the only option so you went for it… So, tell me, would you have chosen me if Barnes was still here?”

“You’re an absolute idiot, Stark,” Y/N practically growled, trying to hold back her anger as she pulled away from him. “You think that I would marry you if I didn’t absolutely love you? That I would do that if I wasn’t choosing you? It’s always been you!! Ever since the first day we met, I just didn’t want to admit it. Too scared that this would all go wrong somehow and I would lose you forever. That day Strange showed up to get us, do you remember how I kept trying to tell you something and you kept going on about that dream you had about Morgan?”

“Yes,” Tony mumbled, trying not to make Y/N freak more than she was. He was also feeling guilty about ever doubting her, he knew better than that.

“I was trying to tell you that I had chosen you! I had made my choice that day and I was coming to tell you that you were it for me! But then… then everything happened… And people vanished… I searched Titan a thousand times over for you. Hoping and praying that the ashes that keep breezing past me, weren’t you. And when you came back alive, no one else mattered. Because I had you still, and I knew that we’d be okay. No matter what… And the fact that, after all this time, you’re doubting me… that hurts.” Tears were threatening to spill from Y/N’s eyes.

“Y/N, honey,” Tony went to hold her, but she stepped away.

“How could you doubt me? After all this time? I know that I probably confused you, but did I ever give you doubt in the last five years that I wasn’t completely devoted to you? To the family that we built?”

“You have to see it my way, Y/N. I thought that we were good back then too. And then Bucky came back into the picture, more than once.”

“And yet I still came back to you. After everything, I always found my way back to you… I love you, Tony. It’s always been you.”

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Tony slowly reached for Y/N’s hands. He was scared that she’d pull away again as he was so desperate to feel her in his arms. “I should have never doubted you.” She flinched slightly as his hands took hers, but didn’t pull away. “It’s always been you for me too.” He slowly moved closer to her. “I’m sorry I just…” He sighed. “It’s always been nagging at me. I needed to know.”

“I know… And I’m sorry I didn’t clear it up sooner.” She curled herself into his chest. “I’m terrified, Tony.”

Tony held her to his chest and held a kiss to her head. “Me too.”

“I can’t lose anyone else… especially not you or Morgan.”

“We aren’t going to lose each other or Morgan… we’re going to make it through this.” He looked down and brushed his fingers down her cheeks. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She pulled him down for a kiss. “I’m still mad at you for doubting me.”

“I have a feeling that you’ll get back at me for it in a subtle way later.”

“Not gonna be that subtle.”

~~~

“And then Happy bought me two cheeseburgers!” Morgan exclaimed through the phone’s screen.

“Two?!” Y/N gasped, faking excitement for Morgan. 

“And I ate them both!”

“Oh my goodness! That’s crazy!”

“Just like your old man, Mo,” Tony said, making his appearance next to Y/N. 

“Tomorrow, Aunt Pepper said that we could rake the leaves and jump in them!”

“That sounds so much fun Morgan,” Y/N responded, trying to hide the shakiness of her voice. Tony, having his arm wrapped around her waist, gave her a light squeeze in understanding. “Momma misses you, Mo.”

“I miss you too. When are you coming home?”

Y/N took in a harsh breath, unable to answer. “We aren’t sure, sweetheart,” Tony responded. “But it won’t be too long. I promise.”

“Okay.”

“It’s past your bedtime, now. Good night, we love you.”

“I love you both 3000!” Then the girl hung up.

Y/N broke down into tears in Tony’s arms. She wanted to be back with Morgan. She didn’t want what she knew was coming to come. But she knew it had to. And that this was the only way for Morgan to be safe. Tony held Y/N close, whispering that it will all be okay as he periodically kissed her head. It was killing him to see her like this. He couldn’t wait for this to all be over and for them to all go home.

~~~

The next morning, they all gathered in a conference room to discuss the Stones. Y/N knew it was going to be an unpleasant day for her, since most of them knew she was tied to them. Tony, Steve, and Bruce paced in the front, while everyone else sat around the room.

“Okay, so the how works,” Steve began. “Now we gotta figure out the when and the where. Almost all of us has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones.”

“Well I'd substitute the word encounter for damn well near been killed by one of the six Infinity Stones,” Tony said. “Or is connected with them.” Y/N shrunk slightly in her seat as people glanced her way.

“I haven’t,” Scott cut in. “I don't even know what the hell you're all talking about.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Regardless, we only have enough Pym Particles for one round trip each,” Bruce stated. “And these Stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

“Our history,” Tony corrected. “So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in.”

“Which means we have to pick our targets,” Clint said.

“Correct.”

“Let’s start with the Aether,” Steve suggested. “Thor, what do you know?”

Everyone turned to look back at Thor. He was sitting on a chair, beer in hand and sunglasses on. Asleep. Y/N sighed, knowing that this probably was all going to do nothing to help Thor’s mental health.

“Is he asleep?” Natasha questioned.

“No,” Rhodey responded. “I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

Y/N gently woke Thor up and he stumbled to stand in front of everyone. Bruce put all the known information on the Reality Stone up on the screens.

“Where to start?” Thor asked himself, clearly still out of it. “Umm... The Aether, first, is not a stone, someone called it a stone before. It's more of a... an angry sludge thing, so... someones gonna need to amend that. Here's an interesting story though, many years ago... My grandfather had to hide the stones from the Dark Elves…” He wiggled his fingers. “Woooooh, scary beings. So Jane,” an image of Jane Foster popped up on the screen. “Oh, there she is. That’s Jane… She’s… an old flame of mine… she… she stuck her hand inside a rock this one time… and then the Aether stuck itself inside her... And, she became very, very sick.” 

“So I had to take her to Asgard, which is where I'm from,” Thor continued. “And we had to try and fix her. We were dating at the time, you see. I got to introduce her to my Mother... who's dead,” everyone was trying to give their full attention to Thor as he began to look broken and rambled on, “and oh you know, Jane and I aren't even dating anymore, these things happen though you know, nothing last forever.” 

Tony went up to him, trying to guide him back to his chair. “Why don’t you come sit--”

“I'm not done yet, the only thing permanent in life is impermanence.”

“Awesome,” Tony responded, keeping a hold of him. “Eggs? Breakfast?”

“I’d like a Bloody Mary, thank you.”

Y/N took a deep breath, thankful that she couldn’t feel Thor’s thoughts at the moment. He was broken, and it was so terribly sad. Tony got him to sit back down before deciding that they all needed a break for food.

~~~

The break ended at dinner, after they all got distracted with creating suits for everyone and gathering more information. Tony and Y/N had spent the day at each others sides, not that that was not normal. But this was different, there was now a complete understanding between the couple. That it was them, together, until the end. Together, they went to pick up dinner for the group. Tony’s hand was resting on Y/N’s thigh, thumb rubbing against it. Y/N was focused on the passing world outside the window.

“What are you thinking about?” Tony asked, slightly worried for his wife.

“After this, no matter what happens, we need to retire,” Y/N said quietly. “We can’t keep doing this, especially with Morgan.” She turned to look at her husband. “One day, we might never come back. And I can’t—I won’t do that to her.”

Tony gave a light squeeze to her thigh. “Okay. We’ll retire. I’ll focus on something else, stop making suits.”

“I’ve really enjoyed the last few years of… normalcy. And I believe that we owe it to Morgan to try to keep it that way.”

“I agree… And maybe, we could possible give her a sibling?” Tony tried to make himself seem all innocent, but there was a glint of mischief behind it all.

Y/N patted the hand Tony hand on her. “Ask me after all of this is over. Okay?”

“I can do that.” Tony was silent focusing on the road, for a few moments before speaking up again. “But do you think we could practice? And cause, you know, we don’t know what will happen during the time travel.”

“Why don’t you just straight up say that you want to have sex, Tony?” She laughed.

“Okay, tonight, I want to have sex. End of story.”

Y/N laughed again. “I love you.”

Tony smirked. “You better.”

~~~

Dinner came with a large table and Rocket going over what happened with the Power Stone. Rocket was pacing on the opposite side of the table that Y/N and Tony were sitting on. Tony insisted on sitting next to Thor, worried about him.

“Quill said he stole the Power Stone from Morag,” the raccoon stated.

“Is that a person?” Scott asked.

“Morag’s a planet. Quill was a person.”

“A planet? Like in outer space?”

“Oh, look. It's like a little puppy, all happy and everything.” Rocket changed his tone to one that he was use when talking to a puppy. “Do you wanna go to space? You wanna go to space, puppy? I'll get you to space.”

“He hasn’t been a part of the team for long, Rocket,” Y/N said. “Give him some slack.”

“How are you doing Y/N?” Bruce asked, changing the subject.

“Better than yesterday. I think everything was just overwhelming me.”

“That brings up a question I have,” Rocket said. “It was mentioned that you’re connected to the Stones. How?”

“You don’t have to answer that, honey, if you don’t want to,” Tony said softly.

“No, it’s fine,” Y/N responded, giving Tony a small smile. She turned back to everyone. “In 1945, I came in physical contact with the Space Stone. It formed a bond with me, and because of that I’m able to control some of their abilities. They, um… they trained me and spoke to me.”

“She was meant to stop what happened,” Thor spoke up, surprisingly. “She was supposed to be the one that stopped him.”

“Thor,” Tony went to stop him.

“No, Tony,” Y/N stopped her husband. “It’s okay… I’m so sorry, Thor, that I couldn’t do what needed to be done then. But I was shown that that fight was not the end. And the Stones stopped me from doing what I had to… I’m so sorry.”

Thor’s chair scrapped as he stumbled up and out of there. Y/N went to follow but was stopped by Tony. 

“You don’t need to go after him,” he said.

“But I do,” Y/N replied. “Because he protected me when you and Steve doubted me. He knew what I had to do, before I even really did. I’ll be okay.”

Tony reluctantly let Y/N follow after Thor. He had grabbed another beer and wandered into the hanger, where the platform was.

“You don’t have to say anything, but I need you to listen,” Y/N began. “I saw the dust and heard the screams years before it happened. Wanda showed it to me, back when we were dealing with Ultron. I saw the gauntlet and I saw it snap. The Stones said they saved me for that moment, but they lied. When the moment came, they told me different… I…” Y/N hesitated to say anything. But Thor had lost everything and deserved to know the whole truth. “I saw a battle. More destructive than we’ve ever been a part of. I saw myself fighting Thanos, all of us fighting together fighting. And I was told that if I tried to stop what happened that day, they would stop me… and they did.”

“Thanos is dead,” Thor responded, not bothering to turn around and face Y/N. “I killed him myself.”

“I know. And I don’t know how I saw myself fighting him. But I do know that I can’t doubt the Stones. We need to be prepared for the consequences that may come from us going back in time and bringing everyone back.”

“You and Thanos?” Steve questioned, alerting Y/N to the fact that everyone had followed them. She took in a sharp breath. “You saw yourself fight him?”

Y/N slowly turned around. “I did.”

“And it was different than what happened 5 years ago?” Natasha asked.

“Yes.”

“How could you keep this a secret from us?” Steve asked.

“I had to. For the safety of everyone… I didn’t even tell Tony everything.”

“We could have spent all this time preparing.”

“It would have done us no good.”

“Y/N,” Bruce called, trying to calm the escalating tension with his tone. “Do you know when it’s going to happen?”

“At the time, I was told five years.”

“What?” A few of them exclaimed.

“And you didn’t think that was important?” Steve questioned harshly.

“I did what I thought was right,” Y/N defended. “To protect the people I care about. You all can’t possibly stand here and judge me for that. We have all made that call! And you can’t possibly understand the burden I have carried with me for years.”

“Doesn’t matter, we’re your team,” Steve motioned to everyone in the room, before motioning between himself and her. “Your family.”

“And look how well that’s done us Steve…” She looked around the room, trying not to get emotional. “I am sorry for what’s all happened. But I am not sorry for the secrets I’ve kept to protect everyone.”

Without other word, Y/N walked out.

next chapter >

I AM SO EXCITED TO SHOW YOU GUYS WHAT I HAVE PLANNED! I hope that this chapter didn’t disappoint. I was really nervous to post it.

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[dontcallmecarrie]

Replying to @kine-iende​ [hope this works and you see it, still trying to get the hang of how tags work] who said:

Thank you, author-person, for this incredible detailed answer. (Also i don't mind being tagged - or not) With Tony being so aware of the dynamic between those rivals, Justin ending as a villian is less going a betrayal from almost-family and more of a 'natural phenomen' he should have seen coming. Because as always:rivals ^^

.

To be completely honest, if this AU were a tv show the ‘Justin Hammer accidentally founded Cabal’ reveal would’ve been the huge plot twist revealed at the end of either Season 2 or 3, and it’d be a major shocker for the Avengers...but not Tony.

also just realized I somehow made an AU where the protagonist basically becomes a villain out of Spite™ and I’m not sure if that’s the weakest origin story ever, or what

After all, if this were a tv show, it’d be centered around the Avengers, and the main season one conflict would be in seeing how Tony fits in the team— which would get resolved eventually, but not before the audience gets a good look at their dynamics. Like, the chemistry between Iron Man and Captain America, how easily and seamlessly they work together without needing more than a word or two because they’re on the same page, or Tony’s cordial yet distant academic respect for Bruce [which gets contrasted with Iron Man’s uncharacteristic instant bromance with the Hulk], or... well, the list goes on.

Not to mention that having a common enemy alters their dynamic as time goes on, because while if this’d been a one-off things would’ve still been rocky between Tony and the team, whereas having to constantly coordinate because new intel indicates that their last enemy was actually connected to something bigger and that means even more teamwork...

So by this point they’ve got a good idea of their characters, how they roll, how they react under pressure and during downtime and throughout all this, Justin Hammer would make cameos because he’s SHIELD’s main weapons supplier [...among other groups, which in and of itself foreshadows some of his shadier connections later on] and between him and Tony, they’ve basically cornered the market on experts in that field— which comes in handy when we’re talking about alien tech. 

Justin wouldn’t get much screentime compared to the others, but enough for the Avengers [and the audience] to see he makes for a very good foil for Tony, with their differences being highlighted all the more due to the similarities. After all, both come across as good people: Tony’s very friendly to anyone who isn’t on his shit list, and Justin acts very polite and gentlemanly to strangers [and is 100% a mom friend to anyone he cares about]. Tony’s a hero, though, while Justin’s long since made it clear he was a businessman first and foremost.

Through all this, Justin and Tony’s dynamic is intentionally kept vague— one moment they’re perfectly friendly, the next they'll be at each others’ throats and, again, sometimes can get misinterpreted as something else. 

Then the Reveal happens, and suddenly all those past encounters and hints come up and it’s so obvious in retrospect but—

Who would’ve expected it?

Tony. 

Tony’s the only one who’s not surprised by what the latest intel’s hinting at, obtained from an intel broker who turned up dead not long after [...because said broker’d also been messing with HYDRA, but that’s the plot twist that comes up in the next season]: nothing specific, nothing concrete, but something that ties a good chunk of the previous Villains Of The Week together to reveal a far, far greater threat. 

The Cabal, and while some of its members have long since become familiar names— e.g. the Fantastic Four normally are the ones who have to deal with Victor Von Doom, but not always— its founder had been a mystery for the longest time. A mystery that has just been ended, except nobody could have expected to see the name on the file.

Everyone else’s caught flat-footed and going through several permutations of ‘oh shit’, meanwhile Tony just leans back, scrubs a hand down his face, and looks out the window with a low whistle.

“Well played, Justin. Well played.”

.

Which is when the audience learns more about their very strange dynamic, which gets revealed to have started out a rivalry during their childhood [and has now basically escalated to the most high-stakes game of chicken there ever was, but shh].

Here’s the thing: if Tony were to call their rivalry off, Justin would stop.

But...

Tony can count on one hand how many positive constants he’s had in his life: Jarvis’ [and, after his heart attack, JARVIS’] presence, and his rivalry. Those are the two things that’ve been there for him through thick and thin, the only two safe places where he knows where they stand, knows they won’t try and tear him down and that means something. 

JARVIS will never leave him [not this Jarvis, at least], but... this rivalry’s been a thing since before he met Rhodey, since before his parents died and Tony’s not entirely certain just how much it’s shaped him, but he can count on one hand how many people give a damn about him and want to see him succeed and— 

Tony’s not sure he has it in him to call it off. Not at this point. 

Not when part of him knows why he did it, because— well, every superhero needs an adversary, don’t they? For a moment, he’d been surprised Justin had the guts to do this, but it makes complete sense the more he thinks about it and Tony knows just how little respect Justin has for the others, of course he’d be the type of guy who’d go “ugh, fine, if you want something done right, gotta do it yourself”. 

.

also, before this all seems very one-sided, I think I forgot to mention that Justin’s really benefiting from this rivalry too— not as obvious early on, but it gives him something to focus on and work towards. 

Something that kept him from depression when he thought too much about his past life and discovered just how much he’d forgotten, was still forgetting, something to keep him from being bored when he looked up one day and realized— he didn’t actually have any goals in this life, did he? 

Not when his life thus far had been dictated by his parents, and he’d been okay with following along to their script for him because if it wasn’t him, it’d be his sister or an innocent child who’d be forced to live up to their impossibly high expectations as the heir to Hammer Industries... but it was something he was resigned to at this point, not something he was particularly happy about. 

This time, he... didn’t know what he wanted in life. Nor did he remember what he’d wanted last time— had they wanted to be a doctor? Teacher? Writer? They didn’t remember anymore— and it’s startling to realize that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled if he wasn’t talking to his little sister. 

Justin’s never been one to seek out the approval of the adults in his life— the fact that he was surrounded by Parents of the Year [note the sarcasm] probably had something to do with that— and remembering a past life means he sees everyone his physical age and lower as kids, so he doesn’t see many people as equals.

...and then Tony decided he’d like having a rival.

At first, yeah, it was confusing; even as an adult, Justin didn’t entirely get why, but it was. Something.

Something good, and gets even better because this is something they both decided, that had nothing to do with the meticulously-annotated plan his parents had for his life, and while at first it was weird, Justin found he was actually enjoying himself [for once].

To the point where he found himself actually getting honestly, genuinely invested in said rivalry, and if he sometimes found himself trying to drill self-care into Tony sometimes, well, those bags under his eyes made them look bad, okay? It was self-interest, nothing more, really!

Really.

So when Tony went and became a superhero, Justin found himself taking a step back for a moment as he paused to consider his actions.

Paused before taking the plunge, because this was it, was serious, was pushing the limit and going past the point of no return. Was he really willing to do this?

A moment to consider things, deliberate on the possible consequences and what could happen— then he gave a sharp, decisive nod.

“Yes, we’re doing this.” 

[blushing-starker]

Anon asked for alpha Peter and omega Tony for a baby announcement. Thank you to the wonderful @vaguekiwi for motivating me and sharing her thoughts on the story. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did, anon.

"Tony, Tony? Are you up? It's 7:30am already, you have a meeting with Miss Potts in forty minutes. Tony?"

Soft hands curl into already silver hair, scratching at the strands in an attempt to wake him up gently. Butterfly kisses on a cold nape, a ridiculously hot nose nuzzling everywhere. Peter knows scenting the billionaire is basically the only way one can ensure a calm morning.

Not today. And not for the next few months either.

He loves his husband, appreciates the nearly romantic demeanor, he does. But "unless you have a cup of coffee for me, there is no way in hell i am gonna leave this bed. your child has kept me up with nausea the entire night. I wanna hurl my guts out more than that time Rhodes found Dad's liquor cabinet. please, tell me you have coffee."

"..." Tony is severely displeased by the fact he can read Peter like a book even with half his mind shut off because fine, he's right and dammit all.

"I want that weird drink you make. The one with milk, cinnamon and chunks of brownie. And French toast with waffles. No jam, not too much butter, as much sugar as possible. Now, go before I scream at you for having the only dick that could get a hormone fucked forty something omega pregnant. "

The kid scrambles from bed, practically face plants with all the covers tangling long legs and yup, this is the person that the universe designated as his soulmate. Because Tony Stark can never have a partner with a reasonable, normal amount of enthusiasm, stamina and a sense of balance.

That sounds like he's ungrateful, he's not. But it turns out being three months pregnant gives him plenty of perspective to peer at life in a whole new way that does not include caffeine, alcohol or sex.

Would he kill and die for this amazing human being that makes Tony's heart race no matter the day, that inspires him to be a better version of himself? Yes, no questions asked. No hesitation and no regret.

Would he clobber Peter for doing the impossible and technically causing Tony incredible discomfort on a daily basis thanks to what his doctors can only assume is a superhuman baby he already loves and adores more than life itself? Also yes.

Things aren't mutually exclusive in this household.

Pep, bless her, has yet to find out about their future mini Parker so there's been no respite on the whole 'running a multi billion dollar industry ' thing. And yeah, while it's not exactly easy, he can focus on other things and not fall into a panicky state of mind — because him? A father? Of a super baby? Tony Stark, infamous playboy with a hedonistic streak, a dad?

Just thinking along those lines makes shame and self doubt slither over a metallic plate. Working, dealing with innovative scientists, crafting the new world of tomorrow, guaranteeing the safety of their planet, shapeshifting into a role model, a mentor (for the interns and school kids he visits, not Peter, of course, thank God they left that dynamic ages ago), loyal friend, reluctant errand boy (fuck the assholes in charge of the Accords), great husband, good man, it all distracts a fearful child from thinking, what if I turn into Howard?

"I couldn't find brownies, so cookies it is! Aunt May had a few boxes sent in when I told her work was keeping you on your feet all the time. Said it'd be a good idea to snack along the day in case you—" Peter freezes, tenses with a not-so-narrow back held ramrod straight. Oh, his husband brought him breakfast in bed.

How could he ever think to clobber such a nice, wonderful—

"Your scent is odd."

"Yeah, well fuck you too then."

Five seconds of silence.

"I'm bringing you one cup of coffee and the hormone pills."

" Yup, that's a great idea. "

---------------------------

Tony’s mumbo jumbo with self loathing is firmly put on the back burner after inhaling a delicious breakfast and chugging that one glorious cup of coffee. Until they go to the bathroom and he sees himself in the mirror.

"We gotta tell them."

"You said you wanted to wait a while before saying anything."

Peter strips, ducks into the warm shower, lets out a pleased little sigh and Tony wants to rip his fingernails off. Is it bad, having sex while pregnant? No! The doctors, every single one of them, said it's a perfectly normal thing to do. It'd be bad if they didn't have sex because Tony, thanks to his crazy hormone production, needs the extra attention for his body to understand this is a happy process that shouldn't include sad pheromones or stressed out moments. Will Peter put him out of his misery and allow a quickie in the mornings? No.

"Take more than five minutes in that shower and I'm joining you."

Listen, he grew up in the 80's and 90's, Tony wasn't immune to peer pressure. Did he cave and eventually do so many squat competitions with Rhodey his butt turned into a duck's butt? There's no evidence, he's made sure, but yes. And Starks have always turned out to be beautiful, doesn't matter your gender or age. Finding a companion for the night has never been a problem for anyone in his family tree.

That, and his work as Iron Man has kept him — well, not ripped like Cap, certainly not as lean and (God help him) athletic as Peter, but fit. Sturdy. Firm. Solid. (Peter once muttered the words 'daddy-like' in regards to his body and he nearly choked on water.)

The passage of time has made him a bit slower, dusted once black hair with, as his husband says, stardust and the corners of his eyes now show how much time Tony spends laughing or frowning. All in all, he looks fucking spectacular for his age and experience as a villain-punching-bag. Thing is, he has a belly. A bump. A curve where it was once, well. Less curvy. Is it a problem for Peter? Nope, as acknowledged every time his alpha tackles him if he so much as looks oddly in the mirror. Is it a problem for him? He'll get back to you on that.

The point is, there's a belly when just a few months ago there wasn't such a pronounced belly. It's great, of course. Proof their child is growing steadily and Tony's body is adjusting to it accordingly. A small part of him, the omega part he actually lets live, is fascinated and proud. He's doing that, Tony's the one growing a human being, creating life out of nothing in his own body. That child, although not the only physical embodiment of their relationship, is a result of his love for Peter. Of how much his husband loves him. They love each other so much they're gonna start another family together. That chokes him up a bit, reminds him how grateful he is for Peter and for the other Avengers. If they hadn't been so accepting of his status, would he have ever considered going through with this?

Anyway, he's not gonna start sobbing this early in the morning when there's no alcohol involved. It's fantastic seeing his child develop, good, warm and fuzzy feelings, yada yada yada, it's also not very easy to hide. And Tony...Tony wanted to hide it from his family because.

Because Peter hasn't been the only partner in all his life that has wondered about a future with a white picket fence. Because when he was Peter's age, in his goddamn prime, a doctor, ten doctors, all the doctors told him the same thing, smashed his dream into a million pieces. Tony was nearly infertile. There was a one in a million chances of him getting pregnant. If he did, they couldn't be sure his body would be able to maintain two hearts. And then the cave happened.

So yeah. It happened to his cousins, his aunt, a few uncles, his grandmother. Tony would do a baby announcement, but only the second that baby was outside of him and safely in his arms. Now there are still several months left and nothing certain. But time is a bitch and beginning to show the world, maybe those extra pounds aren't from eating the Parker's amazing breakfasts.

"Tony, you know I don't wanna risk-" Losing control of my strength. They've been together long enough that Tony can see quite clearly between the lines.

"Hurting us, yeah, I know, I understand. I'm getting too wide, we're gonna have to tell them or Natasha will take one look at me and whoops, impromptu announcement from someone else. It's a miracle she was out on those missions when we found out." Thank God for renegade troops.

He's still looking at himself in the mirror when Peter comes out, barely dries up and slides behind him. His husband is slightly taller now, can easily hook a curved jaw on Tony's shoulder to peer at the image they make. Contrasts, he supposes, have always enthralled Tony. The study of light and shadow. Variations of the same basic components. Where his body is aging, showing signs of wear and tear, Peter's is evolving into something beautiful, majestic. Silver hair, chestnut brown. Scarred canvas, silky smooth and sunkissed skin. Soft, fragile curves, chiseled lines that deserve to be revered more than Michelangelo’s David. But their eyes, their eyes are equally tired.

“We can tell them if you want, have dinner together and just, just say it. Like that -”

“No. It's our kid, we're not gonna act like it's ripping off a band aid. This is special, unique. Dinner is good. Fantastic, actually. Wait for dessert, and announce it. “ Peter comes ever closer, wraps arms that could carry the world around him and how did he get so lucky?

They've lied to each other in the past. Mostly in the beginning, when they were too worried about hurting their new relationship to show their desires and wants. Tony didn't explain the Training Wheels Protocol. Peter tried to fight high level crime on his own. Things got hard to understand, like being in the right place at the wrong time. Puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit together, an extra inch of space prohibiting them from seeing all the possibilities that the truth could bring. They were walking the same path, just in parallel lines that never crossed.

But then he'd been rejected, thrown away and able to realize how fucking stupid it was to let Peter go when being near the kid, it felt like finally breathing after residing in the deep end of a pool for a thousand years. So Tony ran after him one day, crashed into his AP English class, half assed an excuse for the baffled teacher, yanked Peter out of the room and proceeded to have the best make out session of his life with his back against the kid's locker. And now they don't lie, ever.

Which is why it's so hard to accept Peter's, “You're beautiful, Tony. The handsomest man I've ever seen in my life. I loved you before, I love you now, I'll love you forever, Anthony Stark. You carrying our kid doesn't change that, how could it, Tony? It's going to be ok. The three of us will be ok and I won't stop thanking whoever decided I'd get to marry my wet dream.”

Scorching kisses trace his pulse point slowly, sharp nails start dragging against a too thin shirt, but it's the fact that Peter hasn't looked away from him, is confidently holding his gaze through the glass, that makes Tony shudder and stop breathing.

The bathroom is flooded with pheromones, cinnamon and honey assaulting an unprepared billionaire, and he'll die if they stay like this, can't function properly, brain switching gears, trying valiantly to remember baseball stats, past wounds, May's cooking because Peter's gonna wreck his sanity if those hands keep winding down, if those lips don't stop unraveling him like a Christmas present.

“If I'd known you'd get this handsy and romantic, I would have complained about how I look earlier." It's a gasp, half murmur, half plea as Peter grins at him shamelessly. “I know it's rude and wrong and sexist, but I like comforting my omega, acting like a stereotypical alpha. Makes me feel like I'm doing my job of making you happy. “

He quirks an eyebrow, is glad Peter can be comfortable enough to take the reins every once in a while. “You're telling me that assuring me I'm still drop dead gorgeous, “ his husband snorts, nips at Tony's shoulder for that quip, “ makes you horny because you feel like an alpha comforting, and I quote, ‘your omega’? “

Peter reverts back to the shy teenager who could barely ask a girl out to the homecoming dance, ducks his head into Tony’s neck with a blush quickly spreading over damp skin. “Well, I've got news for you, sweetheart. Your wet dream also thoroughly enjoys it so you better break tradition and have sex with me to remind me I'm the hottest man you've ever seen. "

He's actually serious about this, his self esteem hasn't exactly been, you know, the best and Tony's mood always improves significantly after playing around in bed with Peter. Besides, it's a sign of trust. Peter won't hurt him or their child, will be able to hold back his strength. He always does.

Listen, it's not exactly moral, but he has more than enough problems to go ahead and analyze his attraction and dependency on Peter while pregnant.

“So, I can distract you from your bad thoughts by acting sort of possessive and taking you to bed? " Oh, he adores when his husband is afraid of showing a new side of himself and asks for permission ever so sweetly.

“Babe, if you don't, I'll kick you out of the apartment. Give me possessive Peter Parker any day you want, like I'm gonna complain about a gorgeous, brilliant twenty something year old all over me. Now what's it gonna be, alpha dear, bathroom or bedroom? I wouldn't mind the tile but, oh God, I forgot you could pick me up." Tony clings to broad shoulders, can't help but laugh because aren't they a pair?

-------------------------

After having what he's sure was the best sex of his life, Tony stumbles out of the bedroom with torn clothes, a dazed look in his eyes and several bruises blossoming around his neck. Peter's halfway out the doorway when Tony whistles, makes sure all their family is paying attention, blurts out, “Peter and I are having a kid. I'm pregnant, woohoo, it's great, it's amazing, save your congratulations for later. We'll do a proper thing soon, if anyone interrupts and they're not dying, I'll kill you myself. See you in a few hours, " and yanks him back in while Friday activates Sock on the Doorknob Protocol.

Rhodey and Nat clink glasses while waiting on the others to pay up on their bets regarding Tony and Peter's odd behavior.

--------------------------

Later, much later, like, two days later, they have a proper dinner with their family in the tower. There are balloons and streamers, cake and ice cream, warm hugs and gentle cheek kisses, subtle tears and full on weeping (Happy had to borrow a box of Kleenex), pictures and videos and a pile of gifts taller than Tony.

The most important thing, though, is that the A.I recorded the reaction after Clint asked about baby names. He's grateful they went to the doctor before tonight. The visit revealed a treasure Tony thought he'd never have. Now it's time to reveal it to their pack.

His husband snuggles up to him, is so ecstatic the whole dining room smells like cinnamon and honey, like joyous love he'll never get enough of. Tony grins at him, curls their hands together and repeats the same thing over and over again in his head.

It'll be ok. They'll be ok. If the universe keeps giving Tony the greatest gifts he could ever want, maybe it's time he stopped looking at the horse's mouth. That's how it goes, right? Right.

He turns to look at Peter, loves him so much it aches, feels tiny feet pressing against his stomach. Guesses he's not the only one smitten with this incredible human being.

“We were thinking Marie,” Peter smiles at him, eyes lit up and lovely.

Tony is never going to forget this moment, this warmth in his chest.

“And Benjamin Parker-Stark.”

Their family loses their shit and both Friday and Karen have ample proof.

(@puppypeter look, omega tones! @tonystarkisaslut thank you so much for allowing me to use the prompt board! I am still accepting prompts! Although I can't guarantee getting them ready within a few days, I'll try to finish them on the one week mark depending on how long the fic is!)

[starkslovemail]

so i was thinking about how different disabilities can lead to the same coping mechanism, and so here’s some thoughts about dyslexic rhodey and autistic tony and how they tackle public speaking with a lil mit!rhodeytony drabble at the end! 

rhodey doesn’t use notes or a teleprompter when he does public speaking because trying to read them out loud in real time will only make him trip over his words. most people don’t notice his dyslexia in everyday life because in general, he only ever talks when he knows what he wants to say and has the words to say it, something he learned (was bullied into figuring out) when he was younger. thoughtful pauses before he says something profound or roasts you within an inch of your life are incredibly common, and his verbal flubs are so far and few in between in his adulthood that they fall under the category of “normal.” 

reading and writing are much more difficult, and rhodey would much rather work with his hands and show you how the rocket works with visuals than explain how the rocket works with words. so when it’s time for public speaking... rhodey memorizes like his life depends on it. he puts that genius intellect to work and talks through what he wants to say out loud and then continues to verbally refine it with multiple takes until he’s comfortable with what he’s meant to say and the different ways he can get there. when he gives his speeches, he presents a calm, confident demeanor that masks the days he spent recording and listening and recording some more until he got it right. and everyone gushes about how he’s such a natural at public speaking, and he just smiles politely and hopes he doesn’t have to do this for at least three months because public speaking is hard, and he is tired.

...

tony doesn’t use notes or a teleprompter because they interrupt his stimming and will throw him off balance. in everyday life, tony’s sweeping gestures and emphatic gesticulations are just the markers of an eccentric genius. the fact that he does them when he’s not talking to anyone is... odd to anyone who will catch him in the act, but that’s the point of being eccentric, right? so as tony grows older, his hand flapping morphs into something he can more easily get away with, something that won’t make howard threaten to lock his wrists in handcuffs so he stops fidgeting so much (at mit, tony escapes from handcuffs as a party trick and lets people make up their own stories as to how he figured that out).

when it comes to giving speeches, tony’s emphatic stimming that gets him through the whole ordeal turns jerky and unnatural if he has to glance down and read something in his hands every so often. having to focus on a teleprompter makes his visual spd start to rear its ugly head and he gets off track and it’s all a very bad time, a very bad time indeed. so tony also memorizes like his life depends on it. he plans out the general structure of speeches, allowing himself to twist and turn wherever his mind takes him as long as he hits his major points. if he goes off course because he gets distracted and accidentally hits part five before part three? well, he reorganizes the chunks in his brain and uses a tangent to circle back, and no one is the wiser because he is a genius. he too is hailed a natural at public speaking, and he flashes a grin before crashing for two days because he needs to recharge. 

...

when rhodey and tony are partners for a project early in their mit days, they breeze through the practical aspect without any problems. they piggyback off of each other and don’t need to explain themselves, and everything is going so smoothly that they forget they have to do a written report and a presentation until the due date is a little over a week out. they both stop and kinda look at each other when they realize, unsure about how to explain that the way their brain works means they need to do things differently. things have been going so well so far, and neither wants to “ruin” it.

eventually, rhodey decides to suffer quietly and offers to start an outline, but tony has such a panicked reaction to the idea that rhodey notices and now tony has to explain that he’s never written an outline a day in his life. he just kind of word vomits and reorganizes until it looks right and then turns that in. presenting pretty much goes the same way, only verbally. rhodey can write an outline and give him note cards, but tony makes no promises to use them because he doesn’t know if he can. 

and he’s nervous and guilty because of course, rhodey is going to get mad, but in actuality, rhodey looks relieved at the confession. he pulls out his tape recorder and says he can’t write outlines for shit because the words swim over the pages and the alphabet is evil, and if tony writes the paper, then he’ll figure out the way the presentation should go if tony doesn’t mind listening to his recordings? 

and tony says hell tf yes and he breaks out his own recorder, and they send tapes back and forth over the next few days. tony writes the final paper and rhodey plots out their presentation and they get a big fat A, and to this day, they’re more likely to send each other voice messages than texts. 

[aelaer]

Chapter 2, if you haven't seen it yet! BTW if you're reading along and have the time/energy, comments are very welcome. With the hit counter as is, it's always difficult to tell if people came to only the first chapter and immediately bounced or if there are actually people reading along. And since you can't kudos per chapter, the comments at least helps multi-chapter writers know that people are checking out future chapters xD

No pressure, as always, just if you're in the right mood and space!

Primary Characters: Stephen Strange, Tony Stark

Major Secondary Characters: Wong, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Peter Parker, Vision

Relationships: Primarily platonic with the above listed. Pepperony exists, but it's not primary relationship focus of the story or series. Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant with Movie: Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Sokovia Accords, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt Stephen Strange, In This Fic We Love And Cherish All Canon Characters, Stephen Strange is Actually a Doctor, Absolutely more tags to come as more fic comes, all the chars are BAMF in one way or another

Chapter 2: Cross Walks and Crossed Hearts

Stephen did everything in his power not to miss another session with Pepper Potts after his last conversation with Tony, and he just managed to do so. (Though admittedly, the session three days ago was performed after only three hours of sleep. Thankfully, the mapping of the anomaly's path within the reticular formation was easy enough with the help of some caffeine.) Each session was half the time that he originally planned in late December, but the need to conserve his reserves was very real, and "saving" this map between sessions took no small amount of power.

That day, Tony wasn't actually present for the session, having some work-dinner function with S.I. at the same time Stephen was available. Happy Hogan was around, though. The bodyguard still tossed him the occasional suspicious look, but Stephen was fairly certain he was posturing more than anything—though he wouldn't leave Stephen alone with Pepper without Tony around. What exactly did he think he'd do, anyway?

(and you can read the rest at the link above)

[kittybellestark]

Falling Apart At The Seams

Hey so this is the bio dad Tony fic I was working on !! 

Thank you so much to @peter-is-a-bean @superherotiger @thedumbestavenger @marvelous-1015 and @himaboroshi736 for helping me pick out a title !! I really appreciate the help and all the different opinions !

Summary: Tony was Iron Man and yet he was weak. He should have been able to pull it together, to find his child and raise them. It should have been easy, to be a good father. Yet he can’t bring himself to look for them, he doesn’t even know the sex. It was all his fault. He should have been stronger, better.

TW: PTSD, mention of Rape, Rape/Non-Con elements (no actual described rape), self victim shaming, alcohol, drugings

Read on AO3 Part 1/5

Tony had been kidnapped many times in his life.

It was old hat. Get kidnapped, sit and wait, find out the motive, what the ransom may be. Sit and wait some more. Eventually get released or found. Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

Of course there were a few kidnappings where Tony was underestimated just enough that he was able to sneak away, but that didn’t happen too often. Lucky for him, he was small enough to get out of tight situations, and smart enough to trick his captors.

But then it happened.

Mid 2000. He was at some party. Happy and Rhodey were there too. Tony had a little too much to drink and found an opportunity to leave with this girl, Mary, without his friends noticing. She was beautiful and smart, quick-witted and fun. Her eyes were a striking blue and hair golden brown. 

Tony shouldn’t have left with her. 

When he had woken up next, in bed, naked, it wasn’t much of a surprise. Sure, he couldn’t remember anything that transpired after he left the party and Mary had given him a drink, but that’s normal, really. Tony didn’t enjoy waking up with no memories but he did it to himself. 

What surprised him though, was that he was tied down to the bed. And Mary wasn’t actually a nice person, at all. She had wanted a child, and had found out her husband was infertile. Apparently he was not aware that he couldn’t have kids, but Mary felt that Tony looked close enough to him. 

It was January of 2001 when Tony was finally released. Mary was confident enough that she wouldn’t lose the child and that keeping Tony around was a waste of time. So after months of being chained down Tony was finally free. 

Tony was far too skinny, and he couldn’t help shaking, not unlike a chihuahua. He tried stepping back into his roll of CEO and pretending everything was normal and fine. He had built this sort of a reputation for himself hadn’t he? 

The world was more than aware that he was taken, that he wasn’t being held for ransom. It didn’t stop the rumours that he was on a bender, or in rehab though. Obie had stepped in as acting CEO and the world went on without him. But it’s not like he could really tell anyone what happened. He was a man, no one would believe it. He was Tony Stark, playboy extraordinaire, everyone would say he was asking for it.

And now there was a child in the mix. A child he didn’t want. A child he had no choice to help create. He couldn’t be responsible for that. Not when every time he thought about it he’d had such horrible panic attacks that Rhodey had thought he was having a heart attack. They were so bad he’d completely dissociate, or vomit, or pass out. Tony couldn’t deal with a child, he never wanted one, and certainly not one that he was forced to help create.

There was no reality where Tony could tell people what happened to him. Nothing that he could really do. Mary never came asking for child support, or wanting another child. So Tony was grateful. He hoped that the child was well taken care of. That it didn’t inherit it’s mother’s crazy, and that the father was a good person. Tony didn’t feel good about leaving the child in Mary’s care, but he couldn’t do anything about it. It was too much for him. 

As years went on Tony learned not to flinch at a persons touch. Of course when Afghanistan happened and all the progress he made in the years of his freedom vanished. He hated being touched, he hated being handed things. Parties were not a place he wanted to be and being left alone in a room with only one other person was enough to send it spiraling.

Tony lived with the overwhelming guilt of knowing he abandoned his child. He would try to talk himself up, search up Mary, find the kid and take it. But as soon as he was in front of the computer, with the search bar open and keyboard cursor blinking, his brain would take him right back. Back to the bed he was chained to and the woman with wild eyes overtop of him, laughing while he sobbed.

He wanted to care about the kid. Wanted to want the kid, but there was nothing. While Tony knows it deep in his heart Mary should not be a mother, he knows that he could never, ever be a father. There was a child out there, that he knew about and Tony was terrified of them, of knowing who they are, of looking at them and seeing Mary. Tony wouldn’t be a good father, not when he can’t even think about his kid. 

As Tony had to teach himself how to cope with things again, trying to be normal, he found himself in a relationship with Pepper. Holding hands and kisses and hugs were mostly okay. Pepper was more than happy for the relationship to move as slow as it had been. She was really expecting things to be more rushed from the get-go. Tony was taking baby-steps. He couldn’t overwhelm himself, not with Pepper.

Sometime after Ultron- after Tony nearly ruined the world- did he actually confide in Pepper. He didn’t plan to tell her anything. Tony didn’t ever have plans on saying a single word to anyone. He wouldn’t have said anything, if it wasn’t for some viral video of Spider-Man holding a little girl and telling her about how his babysitter had raped him too. Hearing Spider-Man say those words Tony knew he needed to tell Pepper.

Pepper cried. A lot. So did Tony. They were in their living room, sitting on the couch, a blanket over Pepper’s lap and an box of tissues in-between them as they sat face to face. Tony told her everything; the party, the alcohol, the way Mary smelled, being tied to the bed, hating himself more because of those months, being kept there even after there was a positive pregnancy test, how there was a child out there Tony could never face. Pepper cried as she held Tony, fingers curled in his hair reassuring him none of it was ever his fault. He never wanted to be taken, to be raped, and to have a child. She didn’t blame him for not wanting the kid, for not being able to think about them without spiraling completely. She told him he wasn’t selfish for trying to protect himself.

After that Spider-Man became Tony’s new obsession. Tony built him a better suit and watched video after video. Eventually he was able to find out Spider-Man’s identity and helped cover all of Spider-Man’s traps. 

What surprised Tony the most was that Spider-Man was a kid. His name was Peter Parker, he was 14 years old and top of his class at Midtown. He lived with his aunt, May Parker. His uncle, Ben, was murdered in front of him, and his parents, Diane and Jacob Parker died in a plane crash when he was 6. Previous to 2007 there were no files on any of the Parker’s, no tax files, no bank accounts or government ID’s. They were a mystery, but Tony didn’t really see the need to push much farther in the past. By the looks of all the FBI documentation, it was more than likely for their own safety. It was strange though, how the FBI was the one to deal with the case against Steven (Skip) Wescott, and they did it discreetly. Sexual assault cases in New York City were rarely ever dealt with by the FBI.

Now Tony needed to find a reason to approach Spider-Man. He didn’t really know whether it would be better to approach Peter as himself or as the masked vigilante. Tony just wanted to thank the teen. Sure Peter didn’t do very much, not really technically to help Tony. But hearing him talk to the girl, it helped him talk to Pepper. If a 14 year old can do it, so can Tony Stark. And it wasn’t like Tony was going to broadcast it to the world, he just told his long-term partner. People could believe a babysitter hurting doing such horrible things to a child, but they wouldn’t believe Tony. 

So he needed to thank Peter. Not because he was grateful that a child went through the same things Tony did, but because he was willing to share. Spider-Man didn’t even care that there were camera’s on him, his focus was on comforting that little girl. Who knows how many people he helped, Tony could only hope it was more than just him.

Peter was 15 before Tony finally built up the nerve to approach him. He was just a kid, who had bad things happen to him, and was now helping others. So what if Tony was scared to see him?  Tony just needed the perfect cover story. And he needed to make sure the new spider suit would keep Peter safe. That’s all. Don’t approach until you know that everything is perfect.

Tony was in the Parker apartment. That was fine. May Parker was very nice. Surprised that Tony Stark was at her door, but then suddenly not surprised that it was about Peter. She was a lovely woman, invited him in and told some stories from when Peter was younger. 

The panic that started to set in as the time ticked on before Peter arrived back from school was starting to eat at Tony. He could feel his stomach twisting and throat starting to burn. Maybe he should have had Happy come up with him. He was okay. Tony was in control. 

Finally Peter arrived before Tony was able to make some cheap excuse about an emergency at SI. Seeing Peter was difficult. This was Tony’s first time since 2000 where he willingly put himself in a situation with a child. 

Tony might actually throw up.

Peter had bright brown eye’s, nearly golden in colour and dark brown hair. Of course Tony had seen the government picture of Peter and school photos, but now it was a lot. Peter was a real person and Tony was not prepared for this. 

“I was just talking to your aunt about the internship you applied for. With the September Foundation. Youngest candidate to ever apply, and also the most qualified. So I wanted to come and meet you personally, Mr. Parker. You mind if we talk?”

“Yeah, no, yeah, of course.”

Tony couldn’t believe the starry-eyed wonder that Peter had. The wide-eyed innocence. How could this kid who has seen so much tragedy be able to look like nothing horrible has ever happened? It didn’t make much sense. 

Peter led Tony to his bedroom, and Tony maintained his space by the door. It said a lot to him, how Peter was okay with having an older man in his room, yet Tony couldn’t really handle being alone with anyone for long periods of time.

“I’m going to cut to the chase. You’re Spider-Man right? I’m not here to harass you about it or anything. I’ve covered you’re tracks for you, actually. Deleted some CCTV footage, made sure no connection existed. Also made you a new suit, it’s got all the bells and whistles.”

And there was the distrust. The squinted eyes, locked jaw and crossed arms that screamed that Peter was uncomfortable and that he did not believe this offer. Peter looked much older now, all signs of youthful innocence gone, now just a cagey-tired kid who didn’t know what to do. Tony tried to make himself appear smaller, less grandios, he knows that’s what he would like. 

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. You inadvertently helped me out, I’m just repaying the debt.”

Peter hummed and paced the room. Tony tried to make sure that if Peter wanted to leave, the door wasn’t completely blocked off.

“Mr. Stark, I never applied for any September Foundation internship thing. It doesn’t even let you try and apply if you aren’t of age. This clearly won’t look like an actual internship, May will see right through it. There is obviously something else you aren’t telling me.”

Smart kid. Already aware of the holes in Tony’s plan. Willing to call him out. Tony liked him, for a teen vigilante. That’s all. Arms length and everything.

“You’ll come to the tower twice a week. I’ve talked to Nat, she saw your hand-to-hand combat. It’s alright, but sloppy. She’s going to make sure you can protect yourself.”

It took a moment before Peter made up his mind. He even turned his back to Tony to move the clearly home made computer on his desk. What a big sign of trust! To allow an older man into his room and then turn his back, Tony couldn’t imagine being okay with doing the same thing with any woman other than Pepper.

“Sure,” Peter nodded, “Yeah, with the Black Widow? I’d be a fool not to accept that, she’s pretty awesome.”

Tony couldn’t help but laughing. He nodded his head towards the Iron-Man poster on the wall, “Clearly not as great as Iron Man.”

Peter laughed. His smile lit up the whole room.

“It’s not like I ever thought you’d be in my room, Mr. Stark. They’re coming down as soon as you leave.”

“No, no you can’t now that I’ve seen them. I’ll fire you if you take them down.”

“I’ll quit first.”

Peter was a quick learner. He also wormed his way in to the Avenger’s lives. It surprised Tony, how Peter was only ever suppose train with Nat twice a week, now he had lab days and would show up sporadically. The teen had inserted himself into everyone’s lives and he fit. Spider-Man was safer out on the streets and the Avenger’s were more than happy to help Peter however they could.

Tony was blown away from how smart Peter was. There were only a handful of times where Bruce and Tony had to slow down and explain things to Peter. It was far more common that Peter would beat them to the answer, or simplify things, and even correct their mistakes.  

“You know, if I wasn’t there went you went missing back in 2000 I’d think Peter was your kid.”

Rhodey laughed and clapped Tony on the back, and that was it. Suddenly Tony couldn’t breathe. His wrists were bleeding and the metal of the bedframe was creaking. His eyes were swollen from the constant tears the never seemed to stop streaming down his face. Mary was sitting beside him, her hands on the beginning of a growing stomach. She just wanted to make it through the second trimester before Tony was allowed to go. Her eyes were far too bright and unhinged.

“Tony, Tones, you’re okay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Peter is an August baby. He’s August. Not April. The dates don’t line up. It’s fine. He’s the son of Diane and Jacob Parker.”

Tony was leaning over, knees to his chest, hands flat on the floor. He’s touching the floor, not a dirty old mattress. Not handcuffs or a bedframe. Just the cool, hardwood flooring. 

“Tones, what are you talking about? Are you trying to tell me you have a kid out there?”

So Tony told him. Everything. How he left the party, what happened during all those months. Tony talked about how he discovered Spider-Man, and how he just wanted to thank Peter for sharing his story, because it helped. He wanted to make sure Peter was safe, and this was the only way Tony knew how to re-pay him.

Months went on and it felt like a constant balance of ‘this is too much, I am not enough,’ for Tony. With Rhodey knowing what happened, it helped a little bit. Tony didn’t feel like he was always suffocating in guilt. Of course it didn’t stop Tony from feeling like he was drowning all the time, from the memories of what happened, but he could share his guilt with Rhodey and Pepper, and it helped a little. 

Actually it helped a lot. Whenever the team would call Peter ‘Stark Junior’ as a joke. Or when Thor came back and saw Peter immediately dubbing him as ‘Stark-Son.’ Rhodey and Pepper were incredible at talking him down from the edges of his panic attacks. Having people- his people- know what happened helped a lot more than Tony ever thought they would. They believed him. Rhodey and Pepper believed him when he said he didn’t want anything to happen, that he hadn’t asked for it. They didn’t tell him it was his fault or push him to find the mystery kid, but instead they listened. It helped. 

Tony didn’t ever think he could get to this point in his life. Not after 2000. He didn’t think he would be able to trust so many people, or talk to about everything. It was nice, to feel some semblance of normal. Not that anything could be considered normal, but learning not to keel over from the weight of everything made it feel more normal. Spiraling at the sight of blue eyes or being near women and seeing children on the streets was not normal.

But Peter in Tony’s lab was normal. And so was Peter in the communal kitchen, his head in the cupboards looking for a snack. It was so normal it ached. Tony hated that he could have this mentor-mentee relationship with Peter and he couldn’t even handle the thought of his own child.

“Hey, you’re no ostrich, get your head out of the metaphorical sand, food is on it’s way up right now.”

“Bad analogy, Mr. Stark, I would have gone with the hand in the cookie jar thing. Y’know because food. It was the obvious one.”

Peter pulled his head out of cupboards a lop-sided smile lighting up his eyes. Even after knowing Peter for nearly a year, Tony was still blown away by Peter’s optimism, and his snark. 

“Right, yes, my apologies for not choosing the right analogy. Next time I’ll use the right one.” 

The smile on Peter’s face dropped. He looked over to the elevator, his head shaking. “No, no, no. That’s not food, I’m sorry Mr. Stark.”

The elevator doors opened and there stood May Parker with an FBI agent. Neither of them seemed very happy, which definitely wasn’t good. Tony had made sure that there was no way Peter could get in trouble for being Spider-Man, and there was no way the government would find out that are one in the same. Tony did everything right, didn’t he? Peter should have been safe. Everything should be fine.

Taglist: dm/ send an ask to be added !

@peter-is-a-bean @friendshapedcastiel @dead-inside-pt2 @they-were-cloudsinmycoffee @parkersjiggle @7peternotparker7 @thatonecrackheadshipper @kevinthewoman @faline4you @lynxshinon @narutoyaoifan @pastelwheeler @thecrazymarvelfan @bonjour-gays @thebestqueenoftheworld

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@marvelous-1015 @himaboroshi736

[gingerwritess]

I FEEL LIKE DRUNK PRE-DATING IDIOTS WOULD BE INTERESTING?????? 🥴 I LOVE THEM

this certainly is going to be interesting…happy reading ;) 

part 16 warnings: include drinking and drunkenness, plus the general life changing stupidity that comes along with it. major development alert.

Loki can still feel your fingertips, still ghosting along his shoulder blade.

It burns.

He takes another swig from the flask, wincing as it goes down.

Forgetting your touch calls for Asgardian liquor - something that’ll burn even worse.

In the dark office, Loki slumps against the far wall. The floor is mostly empty, a couple janitors milling around, since it’s well after work hours. Saying a silent prayer that no one walks in, Loki lets Laing fade into nothing in the locked office and closes his eyes - focus on healing.

Nothing else.

Your fingers are back on his skin, along his jaw and tracing his mouth, hesitant and horrified.

“Damn it.”

He flicks the cap off the flask again and chugs as much as he can, until his throat’s on fire and he chokes, head throbbing.

He’d let your touch linger for too long, the other day. Stupid, stupid, stupid - now you’ve seen him, felt him, pitied him.

The pain from the cuts couples with the burn of your skin and he downs the rest of the liquor in one gulp.

It’s quick to set in, numbing the pain and graciously blurring his thoughts, and he closes his eyes again to try and get himself to focus, focus.

Heal. Find your strength.

A commotion near the elevator breaks his concentration; a small group of his, ah, coworkers pile out of the car, wrought with laughter and clearly under some kind of influence.

“I said aaaall the way,” someone slurs, followed by more fading laughter as they move away. “This…this ain’t the top.”

Blinking fuzzy spots from his vision, Loki laughs to himself - apparently drinking through the pain is running rampant in the corporation tonight.

The split second thought of you at the party a few floors down, all by yourself at the bar, flits through his head.

Numbly finding no reason not to, he lets out a shrill snort of laughter into the empty office - you wouldn’t be by yourself. Marcus, or whatever his name was, he must be with you.

Loki pulls himself to his feet, the empty flask falling out of his lap.

“Mm…damnit.”

Head spinning, his eyes squeeze shut and he grips the edge of the desk.

Maybe it was a little much. But norns, it’s been ages since he felt this good.

“The doctor will - heh - will see you now,” he laughs to himself, luckily still finding the sense to faze back into Dr. Laing before stepping out of the office. “She…she can’t touch me.”

And he stumbles his way towards the elevator, injuries seemingly painless.

Down a few floors, you’re not doing much better - though definitely not as bad.

Just a pleasant buzz, enough to make you happy to see Robert Laing working his way towards you through the crowds.

You’re about to call his name - but stop to double check. Not Loki, Robert.

That’s the one.

“Robert! You came!”

His eyes narrow and he flops into the seat next to you, absolutely reeking of alcohol.

“You,” he loudly says, “can’t touch me like that.”

“I didn’ touch you, mister.” Raising your glass, you shoot him a grin and take another long drink.

“You did touch me,” he argues, a finger coming up to point in your face. “I didn’t like it, you’re really warm.”

“I didn’ touch you!”

“Yeah, you did!” Already frustrated, he grabs your free hand and presses it to his bare forearm. “See? You lie. Now stop it.”

“Ohhh. Yeah, recall, good sir.”

Your hand stays on his arm.

Loki glares at it.

“Apologise,” he demands.

You just burst out laughing. “For what?”

“You gave me an emotion, and I don’t like emotion.”

Leaning in closer, patronisingly close, your voice drops to a theatrical whisper. “What emotion did I give you, loverboy?”

“Oh. Laing.”

Someone sets two glasses behind you with a loud thunk.

“Loverboy,” you croon, grinning at Loki’s sour expression, “this is Marcus. He’s great, and he protects me from…bad guys.”

Loki - Laing - extends a hand with a lovely fake smile, only to retract it immediately when Marcus reaches to shake it.

“Pleasure.”

“Didn’t think you were coming,” he retorts, leaning next to you.

“Surpriiiise,” Loki sings in reply.

To your almost drunken mind, that is the funniest thing you’ve ever heard and you explode into laughter yet again.

Loki grins - laughing sounds easy right now, with the amount of liquor in his body. Nothing hurts. Nothing could possibly faze him.

He tests it out.

A slow laugh, more of a quick exhale through the nose, an audible grin. That feels completely foreign, it’s been so long, but good.

“Of course he’s coming,” you snort at Marcus, still holding his forearm. “We’re dating, y’know. He’s my boyfriend.”

“Yeah. I know.” Marcus sips his drink, clearly unamused.

The uncomfortable look on Marcus’s face makes Loki laugh harder - actually laugh. Out loud, Laing laughs, and it’s a clear, hesitant but quite definite “eheheh” that makes you stop in your tracks and stare.

“You can laugh.”

“You’ve been dating for how long, and you didn’t know he could laugh??”

“Shush,” you toss at Marcus, gaze still trained on the tilt to Loki’s lips. “C’mere, Laing.”

Hand still holding tight to his forearm, you hop off your barstool and drag Loki after you to one of the less crowded walls. 

He laughed. This is progress.

“Did you do something?” You ask excitedly, still hugely encouraged by an actual smile on Loki’s facade. “Did you talk to Thor? Tony? Did you go to the hospital? Are you heal—”

“Pshh, no,” Loki grimaces with a shake of his head. “No healer could make me feel this good.”

“But you feel better! You actually listened to me, didn’t you? See, and now you’re getting somewhere—”

“Oh, please, like Hel I listened to you.” With a flick of his hand he summons another flask, this one full and a fair size bigger. He tips his head toward you, raising the flask. “I prescribe my own medication, darling.”

Then he flicks the cap away and chugs it - again.

Shocked, you shove him on the chest and he chokes, stumbling backwards and spilling some of the liquor down his chin.

“You’re going to kill yourself!” You screech and grab the flask out of his hand. “Damn it, Loki, you’re going to die!!”

Loki blinks at you.

“I think I know what my body can handle.”

In the both of your stupors, neither of you notice the fact that you just called him Loki - nor the fact that Colonel James Rhodes overheard while he was chatting it up with Steve, eyeing the two of you suspiciously.

“You clearly don’t know,” you snap, waving the flask in his face. “You’re already half dead, I’ve seen you without all this–this fake stuff, drinking isn’t going to fix anything!”

“Oh, you think you know me so well,” Loki jeers, a sick little smirk on his face. “Touch me once and we’re practically married—”

“Eww, you’re so special, nobody can touch me! ‘I’m Loki and everyone hates me, my daddy doesn’t like me so—’”

“How dare you,” he gasps. “You have no idea what I’ve been through, you mewling quim, give me my drink back!”

“Then tell me!”

Struck by a sudden bolt of tipsy genius, you stick out your tongue with a loud ppfffft and shove the flask down the front of your shirt.

“Hah.”

Loki stares.

“That was mature.”

Reaching for it would be inappropriate, right?

“You can’t have it back ‘til you either talk t’ me or talk t’ someone else,” you firmly tell him, crossing your arms over your chest to keep the flask from falling. “You’re a stupidhead and drinking isn’t gonna help shit.”

A few feet away, Steve gives Rhodey a light shove in the shoulder to push him towards you and Laing, both of them still laughing at the entire very mature interaction that just took place.

“Just tell them to kindly shut up or take it outside,” Steve laughs, more than happy to keep a safe distance from your little quarrel. 

How Rhodey ended up being the one tasked with handling complaints about your rather noisy argument, he doesn’t know - but, still confused about why you called your boyfriend “Loki,” he wouldn’t mind if you took it outside, either.

Rhodey clears his throat to hopefully get your attention. “Stupidhead might’ve taken it too far, ouch.”

He’s greeted with a blank stare from you and absolutely nothing from Laing.

“Sorry. Don’t mean to interrupt, but you two are just being a little loud…”

Laing spins on his heel with a scoff. “What??”

“Just sayin’.” The colonel raises his hands in defense. “Sorry, go on ahead, but there are balconies where you can scream at each other to your hearts content.”

Your jaw drops with a mostly drunk, offended little gasp.

“Excuse me, sir, this is my…my boyfriend,” you cry indignantly—without thinking, you reach behind you and grab a hold of Loki’s tie. “Doctor Robert Lok…aing…”

Whoops.

Loki laughs nervously behind you as Rhodey squints at you in confusion—this dating act tonight has been the exact opposite of convincing.

Might be better if you just…stop talking.

You need some way to get your story back on track, now.

All it takes is one falsely confident decision, swallowing your pride, and one good yank—and Dr. Laing’s lips are on yours.

“Oh - okay, okay.”

You hope Rhodey turns away, leaving you two to “make out” in peace, but your eyes squeeze shut and you’re still kissing him.

Laing. Or Loki. You don’t know, it’s complicated.

In all honesty, it’s not a kiss. You’re simply pressing your lips to his, and he’s not doing anything.

Actually…yeah, he’s kind of frozen.

Not that you expect anything else. It’s not like you’re trying to kiss him, I mean, it’s all a facade. Just another illusion.

Your free hand has a mind of it’s own and tangles in short, strawberry blond curls before you can stop it.

Pull away.

Break it off!

Mm, but he smells good. Feels good. Your lips move ever so slightly against his, just enough to catch a sigh between the two of you and you melt, arms winding around his neck as you kiss him.

It’s all for show, you remind yourself, a shiver running down your spine when his hands find your waist. All for show, just an illusion…

The world has gone silent around the two of you, and if Laing would only kiss you back, this might be a part you’d be willing to play for a while longer.

All for show, you silently repeat. All for show.

The room is quiet. Too quiet.

His eyes finally fluttering closed, a brush of Laing’s eyelashes wakes you from a daze against his lips and you pry your eyes open, figuring that was long enough of a kiss to convince anyone of your relations.

Loki doesn’t move. Hands stuck gripping onto your waist like a lifeline, eyes shut and lips still barely open against yours—Loki.

Not Laing.

Your hand is still lost in his hair: dark, long hair, hair that you’ve brushed before, hair that was never supposed to be shown to anyone.

And worse than that, your lips are still locked.

“Mmmf!”

Ripping your mouth from his, you shove him into the wall, and he blinks himself back to the present.

“What the hell??”

Someone yells his name—not Laing’s, his.

Slammed into reality, he can’t bring himself to speak, to reach out and apologise, to run, fight, to try to explain himself. Loki just stands there, stunned and speechless and struggling to catch his breath.

That was never part of the plan.

Gaze still locked with yours, his eyes glisten, but every wound he tried to hide from you flares brighter and you retch, horrified.

For Loki, time slows. People are shouting, muffled around him and you sit down with a thud, a hand over your mouth as you stare at him; someone jumps him from behind, an arm around his neck and pushing him to the ground.

The alcohol that had dulled the pain churns in his stomach and he can’t find the will to fight back.

Everything is starting to hurt again, but this time, his lips burn the worst.

He’s dragged off by a shouting, armoured mob in chains, silent, defeated, and without a single illusion to keep himself standing.

Turns out he was weaker than he thought—and apparently just as weak as you thought.

Damn it.

―   ―   ―   ―

fuel the writer?

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@toozmanykids​

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

The (not naked) pin-up calendar

Summary: When you ask for a favor, Bucky (very) grudgingly agrees. What can you do to thank him? Return the favor, of course.

Characters: Bucky x Reader; a plethora of Avengers Warnings: Hardcore fluff. Soldiers wrestling like immature children. Steve being weirded out by nut sacks. Harry Potter references. A hint of naughty times at the end.

A/N: This is silly and fun and what can I say, writing sassy Bucky makes me happy. This is for @beckzorz 1k Writing Challenge (go follow this incredibly talented, beautiful lady), and my prompt was ‘Pin-up calendar’. Thanks a million for hosting Becca, I love you 3000! ♥️

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

Overnight, the list gets tacked on the corkboard in the kitchen.

Bucky’s rummaging through the pantry, searching for his breakfast Doritos and a jar of salsa to dunk them in, when he glimpses his name from a distance. Snatching up a butter knife, he wanders over to the wall. When he sees the list header, he whirls around in a flurry of tangled hair and irrational grumpiness.

“What the hell is this?”

Bucky complaining first thing in the morning is par for the course, so both Sam and Steve, strolling in to search for breakfast, ignore him. Sam veers toward the sugary cereal cabinet, Steve heads for the oversize Ironman container housing granola, and Bucky stomps his foot like a toddler.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Steve says seconds later, through an overflowing mouthful of flaxseed and yogurt. “You already agreed. You’re not backing out.”

Bucky spins around and reads the flyer again.

---

“Avengers Calendar Shoot”

See below for your name and photo call timing.

Monday: Carol (10am), Wanda (2pm), Scott (6pm)

Tuesday: Rhodey (10am), Sam (2pm), Steve (6pm)

Wednesday: Tony (10am), Bruce (2pm), Natasha (6pm)

Thursday: Thor (10am), Clint (2pm), Bucky (6pm)

---

Stomping his foot again, Bucky stabs the flyer with the aforementioned butter knife.

“Someone better be yankin’ my dick right now,” he warns. “I definitely didn’t agree to bare my wrinkly nut sack for the whole fucking world to see.”

Sam dry heaves over his Lucky Charms.

Steve’s now filling his Black Widow coffee mug and rolling his eyes.

“What is it with you always trying to be naked? It’s not a naked thing, it’s a charity thing. Innocent children who don’t know what an asshole you are will see this, so you better be wearing clothes,” Steve gives his mug an annoying slurp. “Besides - you already agreed. No takebacks.”

“Steve,” Bucky crisply pivots, launching metaphorical murder darts from his eyes. “We’ve talked about this. Don’t tell me how to live my life.”

“Well it was your girl who convinced everyone to do it, so good luck telling her you’re a liar.” Instead of responding, Bucky holds up a Dorito in front of Steve and peers around the silhouette. Draws a few angles in his head. “What?” Steve asks brusquely.

“Nothing,” Bucky mutters. The chip cracks between his teeth with a puff of toxic orange. “Just makin’ an observation.”

“Just wear your scary leather bondage uniform with your scary mask and stand there all scary. You don’t even need to smile,” Sam says. Spooning cereal in with one hand, his other is attempting to worm its way into Bucky’s bag of chips. Cradling the Doritos under his arm, Bucky twists away, blocking the attack.

“Good way to lose a finger. Don’t touch my things.”

Sam swallows his cereal, ignores the lethal look in Bucky’s eyes, and tries again.

Steve joins in.

And so, when you roll into the kitchen a few minutes later, here’s what you find: three Avengers, three veteran soldiers, wrestling over a bag of Doritos. Bucky has Sam in a headlock, Sam is kicking Bucky’s shins and hitting him with a milky spoon, and for some reason, Steve is dancing around trying to tickle them both.

Clearing your throat, the trio freezes.

You smile.

“Gentlemen.”

Flailing arms and legs instantly break apart. Sam and Steve have the good grace to look chastened, both stammering embarrassed apologies. Bucky simply shoves a fistful of Doritos in his mouth and smiles triumphantly. Striding over to you, he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Babe, take my side here. You don’t want the whole world to see my nut sack, right?”

“Stop saying nut sack,” Steve hisses. “Nuts are gross.”

“Maybe your nuts are gross Steve,” Sam pipes up, rubbing his shirt with a wet rag, trying to clear away Bucky’s orange powder fingerprints, “but my nuts are awesome.” After a few harsh scrubs, he sees the futility and throws the rag in Bucky’s face. Stalking from the kitchen, he shouts something about laundry wheels and Oxyclean.

When you pluck the bag of Doritos from Bucky’s grubby hands, he releases them easily and grins at your exasperation. Sidling close, he rubs up against you like a needy kitten, so you hug him tight, dipping your fingers down to squeeze his butt.

“Please do it Bucky, I already told them you would. Wear anything you want, you don’t even have to smile,” you murmur in his ear, knowing precisely which buttons to push. “And besides, I bet I’m not the only one who wants to see those pretty blue eyes. Right?”

Bucky purses his lips. Wrinkles his nose. Grumbles under his breath.

And because you’re looking at him all wide-eyed and soft, he gives in.

Like he always does.

“Fine,” he huffs. “Fine. I’ll do it for you.”

“So much drama,” Steve mumbles through his granola. Bucky lunges for him, but Steve drops his bowl in the sink and skirts past, rushing for the door. Looking back, he throws Bucky a challenging smirk, before smacking into the doorframe. There’s a brief ricochet and then he’s scurrying down the hall, laughing as he goes.

“Idiot,” Bucky mutters.

Folding your fingers behind his neck, you turn his face back to you and kiss his stubbly cheek. “Thank you. Reason number one billion and two why I love you.”

At the brush of your lips, Bucky promptly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you in the air. Spinning around, he shuffles over to the counter and drops you on top. Settling between your legs, hands flat on the counter boxing you in, his mouth finds the open space above your shirt collar and he proceeds to kiss every square inch.

“The things I do for you,” he breathes, sucking his favorite spot along your neck. It makes you shiver, that thing he does with his tongue. “You realize now I gotta go on a diet.”

“What? No, you don’t. You look perfect.”

Disappointingly, he stops that whole talented tongue thing and leans back. Grinding your heels into his butt, you kick him, urging him to stay put. Instead, he sighs in that tragic, pay attention to me way that only Bucky Barnes can do.

“Obviously I’m perfect, so are you by the way, but the camera adds five pounds. I have to preemptively lose it.” Crinkling up his now empty bag of Doritos, he throws it at the trash can and misses by a mile. He gives you a hangdog, pathetic sort of look. “This sucks.”

Bucky Barnes, ladies and gentlemen. The most dramatic human being on the planet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need to diet. You could weigh a thousand pounds and it wouldn’t matter, you don’t - “

“Maybe not, like, a thousand pounds,” Bucky interrupts. “That’d make sex super hard. And not good hard. Just awkward hard. You know? Like when Hagrid’s mom and dad had sex. Which I still don’t understand how that’s supposed to work and I’ve done a shitload of research on it, been on all kinds of forums and talked to some experts - there’s a guy at SHIELD who specializes in interplanetary species relationships, I don’t know if you knew that - but anyway it just makes no sense because she would have killed that little guy if he tried to bang her, and I’m sorry, that’s the tea and I’ll fucking fight anyone who disagrees.”

Pausing for breath, he looks so earnest you almost hate to stop him.

“Buck, maybe we try one day where you don’t reference Harry Potter? I know you’re a fan, but - “

“I drew some diagrams,” he continues. “Boning diagrams. But like, I still can’t get it to work.”

Staring into space, he lets his marvelous tactical brain run every scenario of sexual acrobatics required to establish the feasibility of human-giant sex.

This could go on forever. Once Bucky gets knee-deep in fan forum theories, hours will lapse before he swims up for air. Many a morning has found him still in his boxers, laptop on his knees while he smashes the keyboard, arguing with virtual enemies about the physical features of Hogwarts house founders or the complex nuances of international Wizarding trade law.

The truth is - Bucky Barnes is a god damn nerd.

Clapping your hands, you drag him back to real life.

“Focus please. You’re good to do this then? Without the diet?”

“I really really hate it,” he replies, matter of fact, “but I really really love you, so if you want me to, I guess I’m in. But I’m still losing five pounds.”

“You’re my favorite, you know that?” Slipping your hands up under his shirt, you massage the tight muscles alone his spine and he hums happily. Flashing a lazy grin, he boops your nose.

“You know what? I think you should do it too. Be so great to have a sexy poster of you for those long nights when I’m gone and can’t sleep,” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “If you know what I mean.”

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know what you mean.”

“Whatever. Like you don’t have a folder full of dick pics with my name on it,” he laughs.

“I wish you’d stop sending me those,” you say sternly. “You know this is my work phone.”

“So? You always need fresh material for your diddle box. Keeps the romance alive,” he says. Reaching up behind you, he tugs open the snack cabinet and rummages for a new bag of Doritos. The airtight blurp of a new jar of salsa follows.

“I’m sure I’ll regret this, but - what exactly is a diddle box?”

Massive Winter Soldier eye roll.

“All the pictures and videos and sexy shit you use to masturbate. Clearly.”

“Why do I ask you questions,” you sigh.

“I’m starting my diet tomorrow,” he answers instead, before dunking a fresh Dorito in the salsa.

*****

The next two weeks are spent with Bucky mostly eating raw vegetables and baked chicken breast and loudly commenting on the sorrows of dieting to everyone he encounters.

“You’re being ridiculous Bucky. No one told you to lose weight.”

���No,” he says glumly, crunching a celery stick with a martyred expression. “I need to be hot. Beauty is pain.”

“You are a pain.”

He sighs dramatically. Stares wistfully into the distance. Snaps a carrot in half.

“The things I do for you.”

“Jesus.”

*****

AVENGERS CALENDAR SHOOT THIS WEEK!

Remember to be on time, or we will choose the worst picture of you and print that.

We’re assholes that way.

Thanks,

Management

*****

MONDAY

(SEPTEMBER: Danvers, Carol; Captain Marvel)

Carol throws her bomber jacket over her red, blue, and gold uniform, and adds a sleek pair of vintage Ray Bans. Climbing into the cockpit of her fighter jet, she turns herself all glowy and golden, the color bouncing merrily off the control panel. Tipping her face down to the camera, she flashes the Shaka sign and gives the photographer a huge smile.

(FEBRUARY: Maximoff, Wanda; Scarlett Witch)

Wanda goes all out on all things red. Clad in a long red dress and long coat, surrounded by hundreds of red flowers - tulips and roses and carnations - she curls her fingers and everything around her begins to glow with a warm red light. When she smiles at the camera, her head tilts shyly.

(OCTOBER: Lang, Scott; Antman)

Is Scott actually in the picture or did someone spill coffee? The photographer sees a white sheet and a black spec, and scratches his head in confusion. Antman is kinda weird.

*****

TUESDAY

(NOVEMBER: Rhodes, James; War Machine)

Rhodey shows up dressed head to toe in gunmetal colored armor. When he snaps the faceplate down, the photographer timidly asks if maybe he wants to show his face. Rhodey flips the faceplate back up, reminds the photographer how badass this armor is, and says nope. He’s all good, thanks.

(APRIL: Wilson, Sam; Falcon)

Sam has spent the last few nights practicing his Zoolander pout in the bathroom mirror. He decides to wear a tight black t-shirt and comfortable jeans, with his wings spread wide, Redwing hovering beside him. At the last minute, his sultry pout melts into an animated belly laugh and they decide to use that one instead.

(JULY: Rogers, Steven; Captain America)

Steve goes back to his roots. Wearing a too small shirt and holey old jeans, he gazes pensively at the easel in front of him, glossy blond hair combed in a perfect wave. Fingers dusty with charcoal, he points to the picture he’s drawing and insists they capture it in the photo as well. They later realize he was drawing a picture of his own ass. That month gets labeled “Steve Rogers and America’s Ass”.

*****

WEDNESDAY

(MAY: Stark, Tony; Ironman)

Tony wears the bottom half of his suit and his favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt. Posing in his lab, he floats a few feet off the ground, crossing his arms and giving that trademark smirk. Scattered around him are random bits of technology and a few arc reactors, with Dum-E and a steaming platter of cheeseburgers in the background.

(JUNE: Banner, Bruce; Incredible Hulk)

Bruce looks a bit rumpled. The publicity shy scientist in him detests these things, but he’s a good sport for a good cause. Surrounded by microscopes and beakers of dazzling green liquids, he allows the teeniest quirk of his lips. Hands tucked in his pockets, messy curls fall over his forehead, and Bruce just feels happy to be included.

(JANUARY: Romanoff, Natasha; Black Widow)

Natasha asks for her photo in black and white. Dressed in shadows and tulle, she is nothing more than a dark figure against a white backdrop. On her feet, are a pair of ballet slippers, their satin ribbons looped and laced around her ankles. When she arches slowly up on pointe, her arms curve gracefully over her head and there’s an ethereal stillness about the image. Natasha is amazing.

*****

THURSDAY

(DECEMBER: Odinson, Thor; Thor)

Thor wears an enthusiastic smile when he arrives - and not much else. Dressed in a cherry red speedo, black boots, and his swirling red cape, he stands with one fist on his hip and Mjolnir held lovingly in the other. When the photographer asks about his outfit, Thor proudly describes something called “fan art” he saw online of himself wearing this outfit, mentioning how many “re-blogs” it had. He thinks he might wear this outfit more often, if that’s what the Midgardians want.

(AUGUST: Barton, Clint; Hawkeye)

Clint has a cup of coffee in one hand, a pot of coffee in the other. He wears purple sweatpants and a grey tank top and he yawns every five seconds. When asked what pose he’d like to use, he pretends his hearing-aids are broken. He lays down for a nap and the photographer goes with that.

(MARCH: Barnes, James “Bucky”; Winter Soldier)

Bucky leaves his leather bondage gear, his excessive collection of knives and guns, and his murder scowl at home. Instead, he arrives in black jeans and boots, a dark blue t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, his tousled hair brushing the collar of his jean jacket. Perched casually on the seat of his restored Harley, he looks carefree and sweet, offering that signature smile that always sets hearts aflutter.

*****

When the final photo is taken, Bucky ambles over to where you stand with the photographer, reviewing proofs. Snuggling up beside you, he moves in for a kiss and stops in surprise.

“What’s with the lipstick?” he asks, bemused. “That’s new.”

You seem momentarily flustered by the question, stuttering something about losing your chapstick and trying new things. Bucky shrugs and dives in anyway. It makes no difference to him. Painted red or completely bare, your lips are always his favorite flavor.

*****

“They’re here!”

The box of calendars lands with a thump on the kitchen counter.

“Excellent. Are we hot?” Steve asks, his mouth full of cheesy pizza.

“I’m always hot,” Sam answers, ripping into the box. “Yesterday I saw a Buzzfeed post about how hot I am, and it said 11/10 recommend.” Yanking out the pile of calendars, he throws one to Steve. “That means more than 100% would recommend. I’m beloved.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a national treasure,” Steve argues. Reaching for a calendar, he flicks impatiently until he finds himself.

Leaving the team to laugh and bicker and poke fun of each other, you grab your bag (and another small package), heading off to search for your favorite assassin slash model.

His door is cracked when you reach it, low music in the background. Knocking lightly, you push it open.

“Hey Buck. Are you busy?”

Surrounded a chaos of metal, Bucky sits cross-legged on his bedroom floor. A tin of gun oil lays open beside him, a shredded old t-shirt in hand, while he cleans and reassembles his guns. This particular task has taken him literally all day, because Bucky Barnes has yet to meet a gun he doesn’t need.

(Seriously. He needs them. All of them. Stop questioning him, Steve.)

At your voice, an adorable smile scrunches up his face. Bouncing to his feet, he leaps gracefully from the middle of the mess and scoops you up, twirling in a circle and stealing your breath with a warm kiss.

“Hey sweetheart, what’re you doin’ here?”

“Something arrived. Thought you might like to see.”

Handing over the calendar, Bucky wipes his hands on his jeans. A nervous energy makes his fingers fumble when he riffles through the pages.

He stops abruptly at March.

“Huh,” he says, observing his portrait from every angle. Turns it sideways, upside down, pinches his lip. Squints a little. Finally, he nods. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. I look pretty great. I think? Right? I don’t know, what do you think?”

It’s funny.

Sometimes, you hold your breath when you watch at him. There are these little things. The bright excitement in his eyes maybe, or the way he scratches his jaw when he gets nervous, or the absentminded way he tucks his hair behind his ear.

It does things to your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, mesmerized by those little things, “you really do.”

Bucky looks up. Sees your face and breaks into a wide grin. He loves when you look at him like this, like he’s the only thing that matters. Like he’s your whole world. Like you love him.

It does things to his heart.

Snapping the calendar shut, he flings it on his bed. Blue eyes rake you up and down and he pokes his lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“Still think you should’ve done it too,” he says. “Bet you would’a looked so hot.”

At his comment, you reach into your bag and pull something free. Silently, you hand over a second square, this one wrapped in black paper, a silver bow taped along the edge.

“What’s this?” he asks curiously.

Shrugging, your expression stays neutral.

“Open it and see.”

Like a kid on Christmas morning, he rips the paper away.

He freezes.

Blinking rapidly, he looks up. Silver fingers delicately trace the shiny picture and he swallows hard.

“Honey, is this - did you do this for me?” he asks softly. Flipping gently through each page of this special, one-of-a-kind calendar, he shakes his head in slow disbelief.

Because there you are.

Posing in March, holding his favorite confetti cupcakes adorned with birthday candles in front of your naked breasts.

Posing in July, dressed in a vintage red, white, and blue USO uniform, white boots on your feet and crackling sparklers in your hands.

Posing again in October, wearing a slutty pumpkin dress with cut-outs revealing slivers of your sweet, sexy assets.

Each picture is incredible. Full of vivid colors and your sunny smile. No air-brushing, no fake poses, just you. Indescribable and undeniably beautiful, bursting with love.

All for him.

Bucky rubs his chest absently, feeling his heart thumping with every turn of the page. And then he reaches the last month, and there’s a strangled squeak. He stares intently at the page. Looks up at you. Back to the page. Back up at you. Closes his eyes briefly.

This is it, this is his favorite, his absolute fucking favorite thing of all time, the image instantly wiping all other thoughts from his proverbial spank bank.

There.

You.

Are.

Damn.

Tacked above you is a sprig of mistletoe, a concession to the holiday theme. But it’s the outfit that does it. Black combat boots, lacy red lingerie, deep red lipstick, and an empty thigh holster. You’re pointing one of his favorite guns at the camera and giving a sly wink.

Mind-blowingly, devastatingly, breathtakingly gorgeous.

Bucky awkwardly adjusts the rising situation in his pants, raising lust-blown eyes to yours. Licking your lips, you give him a hesitant smile.

“Do you - um, do you like them?”

It makes you panic when he says nothing. He simply stares. But then he sets the calendar carefully, reverently, aside. Slipping a hand behind your neck, he hustles you backward until you bump the door, slamming it shut. His warm mouth slants over yours, that talented tongue returning to sweep over your lips. The kiss is hot and frantic, tinged with an edge of wild excitement. When he finally breaks away, his voice is low, dark gravel in your ear.

“Listen. I’m gonna need you to get all those outfits and put on every,” he kisses your throat, “single,” he trails his lips up to your jawline, “one,” and now he’s panting in your ear, “and then I wanna take pictures of me taking everything off, before I fuck you so damn good. How’s that sound?”

Sliding a hand between his legs, your answer makes him tremble.

“Sounds like a deal.”

*****