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avengersassemble-fics · 4 years ago

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Stark’s Girl

part 013/015 “i’m not going anywhere”

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word count 3.1k

The Avengers Compound has not changed one bit, albeit the lack of people roaming the halls was hard to ignore. Your first couple months with Nat had gone relatively smoothly and you didn’t have a single blackout episode yet, but you had been taking precautions. You didn’t tune into the news, opting instead for streamed episodes of that Office show tony demanded you finish. Natasha had introduced you to podcasts, but you were careful to avoid any of the ones about “Moving on After the Blip,” or “Remembering before the Blip,” because you were sure you’d lose it. Sometimes you chose to just listen to soft classical music, which was your choice for today. It was the weekend, things had been quiet on the communication end for Natasha, so she dismissed you for a couple days (not that she wouldn’t be able to call for you if she needed, but the idea of having free time was nice.)

Every week you set aside some time to come to the deserted half of the Residence hall.. The rooms that once were lived in by other Avengers were abandoned, and this was one of the most glaring reminders of what was lost four years ago. You had a pattern that you always stuck to, and you always started with Sam’s room, clearing off any dust that may have accumulated and repositioned the knick knacks that adorned the shelves that lined the walls. There were pictures of him with his flight partner wearing the wings that Sam had made his own.

Vision’s room was a little more bare. And by a little more you mean it was basically two chairs and a painting. Nonetheless you made sure the painting always hung straight and no dust dared to stay on the famous Mulberry Tree. Sometimes you’d stop and wonder why Vision had chosen this painting out of everything, and almost always you opted for the answer that Vision admired Van Gogh’s acknowledgement of no matter his place in the world, all he could do was carry on and paint. Maybe that resonated with Vision, especially given his connection with Wanda.

Wanda’s room was more homey, you had always admired what she had done with the place. There had been a number of times she’d let you come in with a bowl of popcorn and you both would watch old timey sitcoms together. You took great care in making sure her room was exactly how she left it, and made sure to replace the vanilla sage wall scent just in case.

The last room that you often avoided was Steve’s. Nat said that he stopped by often for laundry purposes and to check in, but you had yet to see him since you moved back in. Was it an invasion of privacy or was it a nice gesture since you’d done everyone else’s? With a deep breath and steady hand, you pushed open Steve’s door and turned the light on and took in the sight.

It was almost exactly how you remembered it. The bed remained untouched all this time, still made perfectly just how Steve had done every morning. No one must’ve come in here in awhile, or maybe Steve did the last time he had come to see Nat, because there was a faint hint of his cologne in the air. You did notice that the small touches Steve did have in here were long gone, the only hint that anything had adorned the shelving in the room was the faint outlines that were slowly but surely being covered by dust. You hesitantly ran a dust rag over the shelving, going row by row before beeping interrupted your cleaning regime.

“Stupid earphones,” you grumbled and took them out your ear and shoved them into your pockets. You made a note to self to charge them when you went back to your room (and not run them through the washer like you did with tony’s pair that one time). You reached down for the windex to spray the mirror that hung on the wall when you gasped at the sight of someone standing behind you.

“What the hell, Steve,” you exclaimed.

Steve stood in the doorway holding a basket with what looked like a heap of clothing in it. The small smile that graced his face let you know that he was amused, and not afraid to show it. “So we’re breaking and entering now?”

The callback to your first meeting post-Siberia fallout didn’t fall flat. You stood a little straighter and motioned towards the door. “I um.. I did the other’s and thought I should do yours too.”

“That’s a nice gesture,” Steve confirmed. He took small strides into the room, never giving off more than a casual vibe, and set his basket down on the bed. Steve proceeded to start folding the clothes he pulled out and you weren’t sure if you should leave or not, but the feeling was quickly squashed. “Don’t let me stop you from your routine.”

The term he used made you raise a brow, but you also didn’t question him on how he knew of your routine. Instead, you turned back to the mirror and sprayed it down, and wiped away the liquid with paper towels. The only sound in the room was the light squeaks made from your wipes, and the soft sound of his clothes falling into folded piles. When you finished you turned around and set the windex in the carrier you had with more cleaning supplies which caused him to look up from what he was doing. “Right I should.. Get out your way.”

You grabbed the carrier with no objection from Steve and made your way to the door. As much as it pained you to admit it, sometimes you missed his company. Steve had always been the one person you felt at home with, besides Tony and his family of course. But with Steve it was like.. Like how Pepper and Morgan were to Tony.. His family. Steve had begun to feel like yours, and maybe that’s why it was hard to not have that anymore. But his voice tore you from your thoughts, and froze you in your tracks. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“What?” You asked, unsure if he was even speaking to you. You turned around to him and he indeed was looking your way, folding a shirt in the process.

“Have you had dinner?” He asked again.

“Uh,” you checked your wrist and the watch you were wearing blinked back up at you that it was 6:45. “Actually no I haven’t.”

“Nat was planning on a late night to catch Rhodey on an update on a mission,” Steve started, placing the shirt he was folding down behind him and meeting your gaze again. “I was thinking Thai?”

You didn’t answer right away, averting your gaze to the floor in thought, which made Steve smile. “Oh come on.. I know it’s your favorite.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and raise a brow at him. “We’ve resorted to bribery?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Steve admitted. You found yourself biting your lip and finally gave him a nod.

“Alright, I’m game, but only if I get some of those little cheese rolls,” you countered. Steve nodded with a grin on his face.

“Deal. I have another load finishing but let’s meet in the kitchen in.. Thirty?” He asked.

You nodded in agreement and took a step back out the room, “Thiry.”

It was a nerve wrecking thirty minutes. Did you dress up? Why would you even dress up? Steve was just being.. Nice. That was all! And you weren’t so easily swayed with the offer of food, though the grumbling in your stomach said otherwise. When you had caught a glimpse of yourself you hurriedly changed out of the disheveled shirt you had been wearing and threw on some sweater you had found in your closet. It was warm and cozy, but also more put together. Did you want to look put together? God, why were you even stressing out like this? Steve and you were done, finished, over.. But you couldn’t help but think back to his smile. The damn smile was enough to make your head feel light. You tapped your phone against your thigh when a message came thru from Nat, and you scoffed at it.

Nat: Give me a heads up if things get steamy, I don’t want to hear make up sex tonight.

You weren’t going to reply, even when she double texted using that winky face emoji with its tongue out. You opened your bedside drawer and tossed your phone in there and decided you weren't going to stress about this anymore. You were going to go down to the kitchen and enjoy your favorite food from your favorite place (did Steve remember that too?) and.. See what happens. Go with the flow is what Tony always told you right? You didn’t want to stop and think if that applied to dealing with Steve again, and instead threw open your door and made your way to the kitchen.

The sweet and savory aroma that filled your nose as you came into sight was welcomed, and the sight of the familiar logo of the restaurant made you even more giddy. Steve did remember. He was pulling out take out boxes and the given chopsticks and dressings when he glanced up to see you approaching, and cracked a smile while he continued to lay everything out. “I think I remembered everything.. Shrimp pad thai, level three spice.. Let’s see..”

He drifted off as you watched him pull out another smaller box and give a little nod to himself. “Soft spring rolls with the peanut sauce,” he paused and pulled the small container of liquid out of the bag. “And as promised, an order of cheese rolls.”

He set everything aside and you chuckled, “Wow you really remembered everything down to the sauce.”

“What can I say, I’m a man of my word,” he motioned to the rest of the common space. “Maybe we can watch something while we eat?”

“Sounds good to me,” you agreed, and carefully with stacked takeout boxes, Steve and you made your way over to the common area, sitting on the same couch but with a comfortable space between you two. The night divulged into the two of you eating dinner, and Steve had picked one of the shows Wanda had introduced him to, called I Love Lucy. You weren't sure how long you both had stayed in the same spots, but the food was long gone, and it was pitch black outside. But you were.. Comfortable. You were enjoying his presence, though you both did still keep your distance. It was significantly colder now since there wasn’t much movement in the room, and you sat back with your legs under you and arms crossed over your body, your sweater no longer much help.

Steve took notice a while ago and had periodically checked his watch. The time neared closer to 11, and knowing you sooner or later you would fall out. The lights may have been dimmed but he could see the way your hands pulled your sweater cuffs to cover your fingers. But you didn’t make a move, which he didn’t know why. Well.. He kind of knew why because he had felt the same way. He was just as nervous as you were, but he didn’t want to see you suffer in silence. “It’s gotten a bit chilly, I’m gonna grab a blanket real quick.”

You had let out a small mhm, and Steve stood and walked over to the cabinets that surrounded the tv you both were watching, and grabbed one to use. He proceeded to sit back where he had been all night, and spread the blanket over his lap. As he fiddled with the fabric he glanced your way and saw you eyeing the soft cover, and he lifted the part closest to you. “There’s plenty to share if you want?”

You weren’t so hesitant this time. Steve only held the blanket open for you for a few seconds before you grabbed a hold of it and slid yourself closer to him so the blanket covered you fully. You glanced his way as you made yourself comfortable right by his side, and cleared your throat. “Thank you.”

You knew what he was doing, you weren’t completely blind to it, but you also were grateful that he wasn’t making it a big deal. Because it wasn’t right? It was just two adults watching tv, who had dinner together, and sharing a blanket. Totally, completely innocent. You were forced to refocus on the screen when Steve shifted next to you, and his arm draped on the couch behind you.

Innocent enough.. Right?

Steve was relaxing, he was getting comfortable. A few minutes passed before you decided to unwind a bit too. You relaxed deeper into the couch and pulled the blanket up a little higher, and let out a content sigh. In all honesty you couldn’t remember the last time you felt at peace like this. And it was thanks to Steve, which was a little infuriating to admit (because he knew what he was doing, you were sure of that).

Steve was unsure what was running through your mind, but he knew it must’ve been working a hundred miles a minute. He tried his best to focus on the episodes that passed by, not even aware of how much time had passed when he felt you fall into his side. He glanced down and there you were, laying into his side with closed eyes, and it made him check his watch. Sure enough it was past midnight, which was right on time for you. He could hear the heavy exhales, and he moved very carefully.

The arm he had draped on the back of the couch (in all honesty, in preparation for this moment) he lowered down to hook around you, and used his hand to pull the blanket up higher. Steve kept his arm wrapped around you and relaxed back into the couch, then with his free hand he grabbed the remote and shut the tv off, the bright light fading from the room. The only cast of light came from further down the hall, and allowed him to fully gaze down at you.

Steve had forgotten how peaceful you looked while sleeping, even despite what he knew was running through your mind. So Steve did what he thought was best, he closed his eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep too.

Nat was not prepared to walk into the kitchen early in the morning and catch Rogers and you cuddling on the common room couch. But boy was she living for it. During her morning routine she had a shit eating grin on her face, and prepared her coffee as silently as she could. The coffee pot warmed up with a soft hum, she had made sure to load it with coffee grounds quietly, and when it was ready to be poured she opened up the cabinet, grabbed a mug, and closed it as loud as she could.

Bang.

The sudden noise was enough to startle you, causing your eyes to peel open and be met with the glaring sunlight that poured into..

Oh no. The common room. You were still in the common room.

Your eyes darted to where the sound had come from and there was Nat smiling into her coffee mug, and you slowly shifted your gaze up to Steve who was just waking up. You were now very aware that he was holding you which therefore meant you were cuddling with him. You had never gotten up so fast in your life, pulling the blanket up with you. Steve glanced Natasha’s way and then back at you, who was rolling the blanket up rapidly. “Oh-”

“I’m so sorry,” you offered, and even offered him the blanket back. Steve, with a raised brow, took the balled up blanket with one hand and you proceeded to shake his other. “Thank you for the dinner, Steve.”

And then you were gone in a flash. Steve sighed and set the balled up blanket down and rubbed his face with his hand when a chuckle from the kitchen. Natasha took a couple steps closer to him, and rested her shoulder against a wall. “You’re certainly playing with fire.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” Steve replied as he stood from the couch. Natasha shrugged and tapped her fingers against the mug in her hands. “We fell asleep.”

“All I’m saying is you told me you were going to just ask to have dinner and call it a night.. But here we are,” she couldn’t help but laugh at the end of that statement and Steve rolled his eyes. “Sorry, it’s just.. Well it’s kind of cute how much you’re trying to deny you didn’t plan this.”

Steve shook his head, and without another word to Natasha he headed to your room. It was a familiar route, right down the hall from his old room, and the door was closed when he finally got there. He lightly tapped his knuckles against the door and rested his shoulder against the frame. He could hear the creak from your bed and your feet hit the floor, and in a few seconds you pulled open the door and blinked up at him.

“Hi,” Steve offered.

“Hi,” you replied back. You didn’t move and neither did he and Steve sighed.

“I’m sorry if that was.. Too much. Just wanted some company last night and lost track of time-”

“I’m sorry for falling asleep on you,” you cut him off. Steve couldn’t help the lopsided smile that spread over his face.

“It’s not a problem at all,” he reassured you. For a second a smile formed over your lips, but then it faded, and your expression fell.

“Steve… What are we doing here?” You asked him point blank. Steve inhaled deeply before lightly shrugging his shoulders.

“I guess I’m just.. Trying to do the right thing,” Steve offered. You smiled sadly at him and he motioned his hand at you. “I missed you and just.. I wanted to do something nice.”

“It was nice, Steve,” you whispered to him before taking a deep breath. “But I’m.. Not ready-”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered to you. You met his gaze and he shook his head lightly at you, not breaking that eye contact. “As long as it takes.. I’ll wait.”

Steve meant what he said, and sure enough he started to come by more. He offered his companionship and in slow strides you accepted his invitations.. But one question looms.

Was Steve going to keep his word?

- - - - - - - - - -

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buckys-black-dress · 4 years ago

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a fine line, part one

a/n: did you really think i could control myself enough to NOT do an enemies to lovers professor!bucky fic? did you really think i have that much willpower? i fucking love this trope and it’s so cute and i definitely will be doing more of these. k bye! leave feedback if ya want, and as per usual, don’t copy/share w/o my consent! if you read this all, luv u tons <33! - ali

wc: 4.2k words

Walking into your office bright and early was always the worst part of your day. Not because you hated your job, or because you hated the students you taught, but because of your neighbor.

Being a college English professor was something you dreamed of since you were a young girl, and it was something that you thoroughly enjoyed doing every single day.

Even if it meant being up before 7 AM during the week.

But something that never failed to irritate the absolute everliving fuck out of you when you walked in was Dr. James Barnes.

Dr. Barnes was an incredibly educated man. He could tell you anything about historical events. Any day, any year, any country. But there was something about him that gave off an air of arrogance and ‘I’m better than you because of all my friends in the staff.’ You only joined the English Department of the Avengers University about a year ago, but in your time there, you’ve already built a strong reputation for yourself.

Unfortunately, you were a bit shy when it came to conversing with your coworkers. Your most prominent friends who you’ve made are Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff, the Russian Literature and Studies professors. They were the ones you gravitated to the most, naturally, and have been incredible friends since you started this job.

While they’ve been friendly, you’ve been having a pretty difficult time breaking out of your shell. You tend not to really put yourself out there in terms of sociality because of how unfamiliar you were with the setting, but you were slowly building your confidence to truly get to know your coworkers.

Steve Rogers, one of your fellow English professors, came into your classroom on this gloomy, early Monday morning with a cup of coffee in both hands.

“Mornin, Dr. Y/L/N.” Steve says while placing your cup on your desk, taking a fine morning?” He asks, breaking into a grin.

Steve was contagious when it came to his happiness and uplifting mood, and you matched his smile with one of your own.

“I’m just peachy, Professor Rogers. How was your weekend?” You ask, opening your laptop and reaching for your lesson binder.

“It was actually really nice. I got my grading and planning for the week done last week so I got to spend time with the fiancée.” He smiles, leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, how nice! What’s her name again...? I keep forgetting, forgive me.” You laugh, failing to recall the name of Steve’s beloved.

“No worries, Y/L/N.” Steve laughs at your aloofness, “it’s Peggy. She actually works as a military strategist.” He says with a proud smile, which you took notice of rather quickly.

“That’s really interesting... I would never even be capable of doing anything with the military.” You giggle, making sure you have everything ready for your lesson today.

“So... Y/N.” At the mention of your first name, your head shoots up in concern. Was something wrong? “Do you have anyone special at home?” Steve asks.

Your mouth felt dry at the question. You know Steve probably wasn’t trying to pry, but you couldn’t help feel yourself shrink under the question.

“I- uh, no. Unless my cat counts.” You try to lighten the mood and lessen the speeding of your heart.

Steve takes notice of your bright blush and embarrassment. To be fair, you were embarrassed. You were well into your twenties, a successful woman with a stable job, but little to social life. Or love life, at that.

“You have a cat?! Let me see ‘em!” Steve exclaims, trying to deflect from the previous question.

“Oh! This is her...” You say, flipping a frame facing you on your desk to Steve. In the picture frame was a beautiful, tiny black cat. “Her name is Lucy.” You tell him, smiling fondly at the image.

“How old is she?” Steve asks.

“She actually just turned a year old. I thought it would be nice to have some company in my apartment when I moved here. I was getting a bit lonely.” You tell him, reminiscing on when you first adopted Lucy.

“She’s a real sweetheart.” Steve’s not able to wipe his grin away while looking at the furry animal.

“Oh, you don’t even know. She’s a spoiled little thing, you should see her when I leave in the mornings.” You scoff, looking back to your checklist on your computer.

“Y’know, Bucky has a cat, too. I think he would like to know that someone else around here has one, the rest of us all have dogs.” Steve mentions casually, but your brows furrow in confusion.

“I-I’m sorry, I know I haven’t been the most sociable person here since I arrived, but... who’s Bucky? I don’t think I’ve met someone with that name...” You search your brain for any recollection of meeting someone named Bucky, but you were coming up completely short.

“Oh! Bucky is what James usually goes by... I mean, normally people don’t call him James, just Bucky or Barnes as nicknames, y’know?” Steve clarifies.

“Oh, that makes sense,” you say with a slight laugh, “Dr. Barnes and I haven’t interacted very much since I started here... I get the feeling he’s not too fond of me.” You say with a smile to not make Steve uncomfortable. You knew the two of them were friends, as they were always chatting in the professor’s lounge and cracking jokes.

“Bucky...? Not fond of you? Did something happen between you two that I wasn’t aware of? You’re not unlikable or anything...” Steve wonders out loud, trying to understand.

“I-I’m not too sure, Professor Rogers.” You try to stop the conversation here before things got too blown out of proportion. “I hate to cut this short, b-but I’ve got a lecture in ten minutes, so I should get going.” You tell him curtly, gathering your things into your tote and seeing Steve out of your office.

“I’ll catch ya later, Y/L/N!” Steve says as he walks in the direction of his office down the hall.

“See you, Rogers!” You say back, making your way out of the building to the next.

Just as you locked your office shut, you see a head poking out of the office next yours.

You keep your head down, not really wanting to engage in any aggressive banter right before your lecture.

But of course, Dr. Barnes had other ideas. And while you really didn’t have the time, Barnes definitely did.

“Mornin’, Professor Y/L/N! Already late to your first class of the week?” James calls from his spot as you walk in the opposite direction to the exit of the building.

“I’m actually perfectly on time, Dr. Barnes. And it’s Doctor! Have a good day!” You turn back briefly for about two seconds to meet his gaze, and walk into the biting morning air, ready for the long day ahead.

Dr. Barnes, damn you for making my days ten times longer than usual.

Going home was always your favorite part of the day. Your apartment was your safe place, your place where you could drop the professionalism and not worry about having to interact with other people.

Most of your nights were spent reading, watching movies, learning new recipes, and whatever you could do to take some time to yourself. Lucy was roaming the kitchen while you were trying to perfect your latest baked good.

As Lucy intertwines herself between your legs, you look down, making sure you don’t trip over yourself.

“Luce, you have a whole plaything set up over there, why do you insist on putting yourself right ther-” Just as you were scolding your kitten, your phone rings from its’ spot in front of you on the counter.

“Hello?” You say into the speaker.

“Y/N! How are you?” Natasha’s voice came through the speakers, making you pull the phone away from your ear.

“I-I’m good, Natasha. What’s up?” You ask, wondering why she was calling you since she was very clearly not at home.

“W-Well,” she lets out a laugh with commotion in the background, “a few of us are down at the bar a couple blocks away from your place, I think.” Another round of ruckus in the back, “would you like to join us?”

“O-Oh... who else is there?” Your voice came through softly, making your nervousness evident through the phone.

“Just a few people in our group... Wanda, Banner, Stark, Rogers, Wilson, Odinson...” Natasha’s voice trails off, like she was still going to mention someone else, but was holding her tongue.

“Oh... Uhm, I was just in the middle of a recipe, but I think I could swing by for a bit...” You look down at your mixing bowl, covering it and placing it in the refrigerator.

Lucy scurries through to your closet once you open it, searching for something to wear, because your current situation was quite frankly sweats. Choosing a black turtleneck and jeans, you dab on a little bit of makeup and pull on some boots, making your way to your car and warming it up.

Once you made it to the bar, you were met with a stench that only bars have, one you haven’t smelt in years. College was fun while it lasted, though.

The first person you spot is Wanda, who’s sitting at the bar waiting for drinks, you presume, so you make your way towards her.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you came! Natasha said you were, but we weren’t sure, you don’t normally do, but it’s perfect! I’m so excited, we never hang out too much, you know? And-” Wanda was rambling, and although you could tell she didn’t want to offend you, it stung. You know you haven’t been out with your coworkers, but it was just one of the effects of your social anxiety.

“It’s okay, Wanda. I know, but I’m gonna try to come out more... I think it’s time.” You tell her with a small smile.

“That’s great, Y/N. I’m glad, you deserve to let loose and have fun every once in a while, you know. It’s okay to relax.” She pats your shoulder, and you can feel her warmth in it, both physically and emotionally. It was nice.

“I- Yeah, thanks, Wanda. Do you need a hand with the drinks?” You ask, seeing the two full trays.

“Yes! If you don’t mind, we’re just back there. We got you a drink too, but we didn’t really know what you liked so we just played it safe.” She explains, pointing to the Old Fashioned on the tray.

“Oh! You didn’t have to...” You trail off, placing the tray down on the table.

“Hi, Y/N! Didn’t know you’d be joining us tonight, good to see ya!” Steve says while scooting further down the booth seat to make room for you, everyone else welcoming you.

“Thanks for inviting me, guys. I guess I really did need to get out of the house.” You say while sipping on your drink.

As the chatter around the table starts again, you quickly end up finishing your drink, caught up in the atmosphere around you and how you were having such a good time.

Maybe this isn’t so bad. I should do this more often.

And as this thought came to your head, Natasha sees that you’ve finished your drink, motioning to the empty glass.

“Need another, Y/N?” She points to the bar, “I’ll come with, I need one too.”

You nod, scooting out of the booth.

“I’ll just have a glass of red,” you tell the bartender, Natasha giving you an odd look, “I still have to drive home later..” You laugh when she hums in realization.

While waiting, a tall guy with dark hair is already chatting up Natasha. And just when you didn’t think your night could get any weirder, you feel someone come up next to you.

“What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing here all by yourse-” But the voice was cut short as soon as you turned your head towards whoever it was. As soon as your mind recognized the face, your eyes widened, met with equally wide, ocean blue eyes.

“Y/N?! What the hell are you doing here?” Bucky’s voice was filled with confusion and mild disgust, ouch.

“I-I was invited... By Natasha...” Your voice was meeker than you wanted it to sound, because who the hell was Bucky to question why you were here?

“Oh. I didn’t know it was you, for the record.” Bucky states, watching in satisfaction as you look down at your wineglass that the bartender placed in front of you. She gave you a sympathetic look, turning back to another customer.

“I-Yeah, I figured, Barnes. Sorry to disappoint you, I suppose.” You grab the glass and walk back to the table, trying to not look as though someone just called you ugly to your face.

“Y’know, I don’t quite understand why you can’t just let her be.” Bucky turns his gaze to Natasha.

“I just... don’t like her. It’s as simple as that, Nat. She walks around acting all high and mighty, like she isn’t equal to us.” He reasons, trying to make his point.

“Bucky... Maybe if you took five seconds to get rid of that ego of yours, you’d know the kind of person she is. And she is most definitely not as pretentious as you’ve made her out to be. She’s a human being, just like the rest of us here.” Natasha finishes defending you, turning back to the table, leaving Bucky even more confused than before.

As the night went on, you very evidently avoided anything that had to do with Bucky. If he came by the table, you would waver your gaze elsewhere, and if he initiated the conversation, you would keep quiet. Although you knew it was probably the easiest way to avoid conflict with him, you could tell you were folding in on yourself.

And Wanda and Natasha most definitely noticed.

Every time Bucky spoke, it was like you would disconnect. Focus your mind elsewhere, filling your head with thoughts completely unrelated to your current atmosphere.

“Y/N, what do you have planned for the holiday break?” Sam’s voice pipes up, trying to include you in the conversation.

“Oh, uhm... Not much, I usually stay at home and make myself a nice meal. Take some time to myself, y’know.” You smile at the thought of the holiday season. You were completely ready to take the time off to catch up on self care.

“Oh, no family to go see?” Steve’s voice asks from across the booth.

“Uh... no, not really.” You try let out a light laugh at the answer, trying to not show the stiffness of your body at the topic at hand.

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable...” Steve says, trying to rectify the situation.

“No! You’re completely okay, Steve.” You reassure him, not wanting to make things even more uncomfortable.

“Well, now that we’re on the topic,” Bucky’s voice breaks the silence, “Y/N, how come we know, like... nothing about you? You’ve been at the university for a bit now and this is the first time we’re seeing you outside of work.” Bucky’s expression was smug as could be, and you were really fighting the urge to cry right now.

“Bucky, leave her alone.” Wanda’s voice was coming as a warning, daring Bucky to go even further.

“No, I’m not trying to sound rude or anything,” Bucky keeps pushing, “but you just seem to act like we don’t deserve your time, like you’re better than all of us or something.”

“Buck, that’s enough.” Steve’s voice was like ice. “Just leave her alone, for God’s sake.”

The table falls silent, your eyes fixed on your hands in your lap.

“I-I’m sorry, guys...” Your voice was holding on by a thread. “I think I should go, thank you so much for inviting me out with you guys. Have a good night.” And with that, you slip out of the booth, disappearing out the front door at an exceptional speed.

The rest of the table was watching Bucky with several emotions, including mild disgust, anger, and hopelessness.

When will this stop?

That night when you return to Lucy, you were drained. Tired. Exhausted. Ever since you were a child, it seemed that you couldn’t outgrow your shyness and quietness. The only place that made you feel like you belonged was your lecture hall. And although you tried, several times, to overcome this horrid quality of yours, it seemed that you could never escape it.

It just always came back.

And you know how it made you seem to others. Pretentious, snobby, it gave you an air of a superiority complex.

When in reality, it was exactly the opposite. You were so afraid to speak sometimes that you just choose not to. You didn’t want to be judged or ridiculed for saying the wrong things, so you thought it was better to keep quiet.

Becoming a professor definitely helped you break out of that shell a little bit, but it never really translated outside of the classroom.

Flopping down on your grey comforter, you realize that you couldn’t continue to feel like this. It was years and years of meekness, of keeping to yourself. That was the reason why you were almost 30 with no boyfriend, no fiancé, and certainly no husband or child.

You knew you had to make a change, but you didn’t quite know how to. But that’s something you’ll have to worry about later, because you were close to passing out right now.

The following week had been... different. You were spending less of your lunch hours in your office, alone, and finally accepting Natasha and Wanda’s consistent invites to eat with them. It took them by surprise at first, but they welcomed you with open arms.

It was now Thursday, and you were in Wanda’s office, digging into your pasta salad that you’d packed.

“So, Y/N, just out of curiosity...” Natasha speaks through her lunch, “What suddenly made you want to join us? I mean, after last week, I wouldn’t be surprised if you never wanted to see us again.” She laughs a breath out, clearly feeling guilty for last weeks’ events.

“Well,” you supply after a moment to think, “I realized something. After James... spoke his mind, I guess you could say, I realized that he was right, in a way.”

“Wha-” Wanda interjected but you continued to explain.

“I realized that I had removed myself so far from the people that I see every single day so much that they don’t even know me. And it’s been like this most of my life... I usually just keep to myself, but I think that even though I’m terrified of speaking to people I don’t know, it’ll never get better unless I actually try.” You release, feeling a metaphorical weight lift off your chest.

“Well, Y/N, I’m glad you finally chose to let us in... But Bucky was still an asshole, and totally out of line. We know we can’t speak for him, but we’re all really sorry for what he said... He doesn’t even know you, and he shouldn’t have made those assumptions about you.” Wanda says after a moment of silence.

“Thank you, guys.” You smile, gathering your things and standing up. “I have a lecture to prepare for, but... thank you for everything, both of you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had good people in my life that I can call my friends.” You’re shocked at the fact that you feel two sets of arms wrap around you at your confession, holding you tight.

“Y/N, you don’t ever have to thank us for being your friends... you deserve good things, never forget that.” Natasha tells you, and for the first time, you actually believe it.

“Okay, I actually have to go now, but I’ll see you two later?” You ask, already halfway out the door.

“Yeah, we’ll text you!” Wanda yells back, and you’re making your way back to your office to gather your belongings for the lecture.

But of course, you could never get ready for a class without Barnes popping out and giving you a little pep talk.

“Afternoon, Y/L/N. Getting ready to bore another groups of kids to death?” He asks, a smug look on his face with a mug held in his hand.

“Actually, Dr. Barnes, I happen to have excellent students who truly enjoy being in my class, being that I don’t teach any 101s, that’s more Steve’s part. But thanks for the concern.” You tell him, shutting the door behind you and letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

You’ve never spoken to anyone like that in your life before.

And James was equally shocked at your attitude, standing in his doorway, dumbfounded with his mouth hanging open. He was staring at your shut door, wondering where the quick with came from.

He begrudgingly turns back into his own office, truly trying to process what just occurrfaxed.

While you slung your bag over your shoulder, there was an infectious smile gracing your face, proud of not being his doormat for the first time.

That day, class was even better than usual, and you even let your students out early, telling them to enjoy the rest of their day.

And that night, you went home feeling the best you’ve felt in a long time.

You went into the university the next week feeling refreshed from you girl’s weekend that you hosted at your apartment, inviting Natasha and Wanda, and even another professor named Carol who you’ve recently befriended as well- to unwind and have fun with.

And as you swing the usually locked door of your office open with ease, your eyebrows furrowed.

I remember locking it when I left on Friday...

But the only thing that seems to out of place is the iced americano and chocolate croissant sitting on your desk.

On the bag of the croissant, there was writing that read, ‘Thought I’d make it up to you.’

Who the hell would go out of their way to bring me breakfast? You thought to yourself. And they know my usual...

You honestly assumed it could’ve been one of the girls, but you don’t know what they could’ve been making it up to you for. Maybe girl’s night? But still, everyone did a good job of bringing things with them to compensate for you hosting.

But nothing explains the door being unlocked. But you weren’t really afraid. You didn’t keep anything too valuable in there anyways, taking most papers home with you, and keeping classified files sealed in the file cabinet.

It didn’t really scare you, but you truly wondered who would go out of their way to do something like this for you.

The rest of your day went by pretty quickly, and it was oddly quiet. Specifically from the office next door.

It’s now 5 PM, and not a peep from James.

It unsettled you, to say the least. First the breakfast and unlocked office, and now not a word from him.

It was weird.

You spotted him talking to Steve earlier in the day, but you haven’t seen too much of him either.

Although, there was a staff meeting tonight, so you’d definitely see him then.

As you made your way to the designated conference room with Natasha, you see Dean Fury waiting for everyone to arrive. He greets you with his usual disgruntled look, which you’ve learned to not take personally over the time you’ve spent here at Avengers University.

Slowly, everyone made it in, taking a seat.

“Good evening, staff. I hope you’ve all had a productive day thus far, but there’s a reason I’ve called you here tonight. I have a proposal for all of you.” Fury explains, making you all curious.

“I’ve decided, after a few months of toying with the idea, I’d like to do partner teaching. Each and every one of you will be assigned a counterpart, and you will both help each other in making the others’ teaching environment better. Here at AU, we’re committed to always pushing the envelope, and that means that sometimes, you’ll have to get uncomfortable. And if you’re wondering, there’s no way out of this. You all have to do it. Each one of you has received an email to your .edu inbox with your partner assignment and further instructions on how this will be done.” A pause overtook the room as everyone pulled out their phones to check their emails. “Happy teaching, we start next week, folks.” Fury finishes, exiting the room.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t believe your eyes when they saw the opened email.

Dr. Y/L/N, you’ve been selected to teach alongside Dr. Barnes.

Oh fuck no.

And the look he was sharing with you from across the table confirmed he was thinking the exact same thing.

a/n pt.2: ooooooh cliffhangerrr!!! holy shit y’all this bitch long asf. don’t worry, part 2 will be coming soon! comment and lmk what you thought down below! this might have a part 3, i haven’t decided yet !! lol, anyways, i have class in an hour, so bye! if you made it this far, i seriously love and. appreciate you!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #prof!bucky #professor!bucky #prof!bucky x prof!reader #college professor au #Bucky Barnes #bucky fic #ive been writing this for so long omf

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avengerscompound · 4 years ago

Text

It’s You and Me - Chapter 9

It’s You and Me: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x F!Reader

Word Count: 1556

Rating: E

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse

Synopsis: You and Clint Barton go way back. Since you joined the circus as a child, he took it upon himself to keep you away from the people who really wanted to hurt you. For years the two of you danced a line between dark and light.

When he chooses light the two of you go your separate ways.

Fifteen years later he tracks you down. Those feelings the two of you shared never went away, but now he is not only an Avengers but a single father. Can the two of you make it work after all this time when your lives have gone in such different directions?

A series told in flashbacks and current day.

Chapter 10: Now

You had fallen into a slightly uneasy truce with yourself. The part of you that had been adamant that you not fuck up any kids’ lives had been soothed down by the part that was really enjoying being back with Clint again. Some things made it easier to compartmentalize. Children weren't by default terrible and the problem you had was never hating kids. It was hating your childhood. Besides, if there were any kids you were going to love instantly it would be Clint’s. Maybe it was never going to be in a motherly way, but they were his and you loved him.

Clint seemed to be making sure you never got put into the parenting role. You were never the babysitter or decision-maker when it came to things they should or shouldn’t be doing. If they wanted to go out for ice cream he’d decide if they could on his own and then ask if you wanted to as well, instead of asking you what you thought about the idea. That made things easier too. It meant you could avoid the step-mother role even if it did occasionally haunt you.

Cooper, Lila, and Nate seemed to take to you dating their father pretty well. They were good kids generally speaking, but the concern that they might see you as a step-mother worried you. The two older two definitely seemed to treat you as an entity in the house that they needed to be aware of. They didn’t come to you to ask for things, but they didn’t straight up ignore you. They’d say good morning when they saw you first thing and goodnight when they went to bed. If they were getting themselves a snack they might ask if you wanted some and they’d make general conversation about music or tv shows with you. However, it wasn't the same level of excitement as when they were with Natasha Romanoff, who they were very close with, or the same level of deference when Ebony was in the room. You hoped that didn’t mean they resented you, or they thought you didn’t like them.

Nate, however, seemed to be completely different. He’d seek you out more and want to share things with you, like what his favorite toys were or the pictures he’d drawn. He’d come and sit on the couch with you and flop himself against you. It was a little scary considering how you felt about everything.

Clint kept pushing for you to join the Avengers, taking you to the Tower and ‘randomly’ having you bump into people who would then lecture you about using your abilities for good. It had the opposite effect than desired. The longer the lecture went the less you wanted to be subjected to further lectures about anything ever again. You still kept going in - partially because it was funny to see how frustrated Clint was when you’d say no, but mostly because now you were burned, you were very interested to see where this data you’d helped steal went. Not that they’d tell you anything. You weren’t an Avenger, so you weren’t privy to that kind of information. It seemed to have something to do with the circus people, and you were curious to know why none of them had approached you about their underground dealings.

That was all for weekdays though - unless it was the end of the world, Clint was home on weekends. That didn’t mean you were free from him trying to recruit you.

“So you’re just not gonna get a job?” He asked. He was sitting beside you on the couch with Lila sitting in front of him while he put her hair in a halo braid. There were some half-formed plans about going out in the afternoon, but everyone was just taking their time. You were eating cereal despite it being 11.30, Cooper was still in his pajamas, and Nate was hanging upside off the side of the couch with only his underwear, a t-shirt, and one sock on.

“Maybe I already have a job,” you teased and he looked at you with his eyes narrowed.

“You don’t, do you?” he asked.

“No. I don’t,” you agreed.

“The Avengers have really good medical, and a great 401K,” he said.

“Yeah because no one ever lasts long enough to cash out,” you snarked.

“She doesn’t have to be an Avenger if she doesn’t want to dad,” Lila said.

“Yeah, Clint,” you agreed. “Listen to your daughter.”

“Gee, thanks for your help, Li,” he teased. “You should see her though, she can shoot an arrow while doing a handstand while riding a horse.”

“You can do that,” Lila said, sounding bored.

“Wow,” you deadpanned. “Ruined the only cool thing I can do with your over achievement. Thanks, Clint.”

He pulled a face at you and was just about to say something when his phone rang. He stuck a bobby pin in Lila’s hair to hold it in place as he answered. “Yeah? - No, but I can’t… Fuck! … Are you shitting me right now? Ebony is off today. I think she went… no, I get it. Yeah. Okay.”

He hung up the phone and got up. “Gotta go in. Can you watch them? It’s an emergency.”

“What? But Clint…” You argued.

“Dad, you haven’t finished my hair!” Lila yelped.

“You can finish it, right?” Clint said to you as he grabbed his keys and tried to evade Lucky who was now dancing around his feet.

“Clint!” You yelped.

“You know I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t have to,” he said and kissed Lila on the top of the head and then you, before blowing a raspberry on Nate’s tummy. The little boy squealed and fell off the chair in a heap. “Thanks, sugar. I’ll owe you one.”

“The biggest one ever!” You shouted as he ducked out the door.

Lila sighed and started to unwind her hair.

“I can do it,” you said.

She rolled her eyes. “You sounded really excited about the idea.”

You flinched. “I’m sorry… it’s not… I’m not… I can do your hair.”

She looked at you like she was trying to get a read on you. “We don’t want you to be our mom either you know?”

“Lila!” Cooper scolded.

You ran your hand down your face. “I know. I know… that’s… that’s part of the reason I’ve been the way I’ve been. I don’t not like you guys. If anything it’s because I like you a lot and I hate that you lost your mom. But I don’t want you to think I’m trying to be your mom or take her place.”

“Well, good,” Lila said. “We don’t want that either.”

“You want me to do your hair and I’ll be real with you?” You asked.

She nodded and moved into position. “So here’s the thing,” you said, as you started taking up where Clint had left off. “Me and your dad… we had pretty crappy childhoods. The people who were supposed to care for us - they hurt us instead. And I guess… your dad decided that when he grew up he’d have a family and make sure they never got hurt the way he was. But I decided that I didn’t want to risk ruining any kids' lives. We ended up breaking up and going our own separate paths and they went just like that. I never had a family and he got married and got you guys. But now we’re back in each other's lives and I care about your dad. I always have. And I am really scared that that’s gonna mean you guys get hurt and I’ve been trying really hard to just… let you be so it won’t be me that hurts you.”

“You really never wanted kids?” Cooper asked.

You shook your head. “Not because I don’t like them though. I think you guys are awesome.”

“You can be our friend if you like? We have a mom. She might have died but she was still our mom. But we also have an Auntie Nat and an Auntie Wanda and an Auntie Kate and an Ebony. You can just be whoever you are,” Cooper suggested.

You smiled and laughed softly. “You’re pretty smart, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Cooper joked.

“Friends then?” You asked.

“Yeah, friends,” he said.

Lila nodded.

“Okay, but here’s the thing,” you said. “There’s a thing that friends have that adults in charge don’t. You’re allowed to tell me off. Okay? If I overstep, or I do something that upsets you, you can tell me. I won’t be mad and because friends can’t punish each other the way your dad can. Right?”

Lila turned her head and looked at you. “Right. Okay.”

“I’m sorry I’m dating your dad,” you said lamely.

She laughed. “No, you aren’t. But that’s okay. He… it’s been a while since he’s not just been faking being happy.”

You smiled and went back to fixing her hair.

“You should tell us about the criminal stuff you’ve been doing if we’re friends,” Cooper said.

You started laughing. “I’m sure your dad would love it if I told you about that.”

“Come on,” Cooper begged. “You said we have to tell each other stuff.”

You laughed harder and shook your head. “Okay… where should I start?”

// NEXT

#clint barton #clint barton x reader #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #it's you and me

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star-spangledstud · 5 years ago

Text

Like You

Pairing: Steve Rogers x (Female) Reader.

Word Count: 2800-ish.

Summary: Steve has a really shitty way of saying goodbye.

A/N: My friend sent me the prompt: “If I knew then what I know now.”. I decided to play around with it and then this happened.

Warnings: Angst at its finest. Such brief mentions of sex you hardly notice them. Heartbreak.

You didn’t understand why he didn’t come back to you like he was supposed to.

It wasn’t like the two of you didn’t have a solid relationship. You complemented each other when you walked into the room, the perfect blend of two different people that had come together as one. You hardly argued, barely even disagreed on matters that concerned the both of you and you never got sick of each other’s company. You were complete, whole when you were with him and he was with you.

You ate together, trained together, slept together in the same bed night after night. Even as the world burned after the big Snap, you stayed together, thankful every day for the fact that the both of you had made it out alive. You mourned the loss of friends together, tried to overcome the holes in your hearts together. It was an obstacle in the road that paved the way for your lives and you faced it together. When everyone was brought back, you couldn’t have been more grateful, because five years of learning how to rebuild everything had made the two of you stronger, more aware of how much you needed each other to survive. Most importantly, it made you aware of how all you needed to survive was each other.

A power couple, that’s what they called you. Sun and moon, yin and yang. The perfect balance of work and play, of fun and professionalism. You kept each other moving, kept one another going with words of encouragement and wisdom, forced each other out of bed after half the world had literally vanished in the blink of an eye. It hadn’t been easy, but you expected the strain on your relationship to have been much worse. You got off easy compared to many other people.

When the two of you first caught wind of the possibility to bring everybody back, of course, you jumped on the bandwagon. It was the opportunity of a lifetime, a chance to see your best friends again, for things to go back to the way they were. You knew it would be hard because people had moved on, started new relationships, new careers and had moved house, but you had faith that humanity could overcome it.

You still got chills when you thought of the orange portals that signaled everyone’s return. The distant memory of seeing the people you thought you’d never see again in the flesh for the first time in five years still brought prickly tears to the corners of your eyes, as did the knowledge that Natasha and Tony had given their lives to make it happen. They sacrificed their lives so you could have yours.

You hardly had time to notice the sudden change in Steve’s behavior. You were so busy trying to reintegrate half the population into the current day, that the two of you spent less and less time together. You were in charge of bringing back the positions of SHIELD agents that had vanished and offered your help to them both professionally as well as privately. Some of them had lost their families because they’d moved on and it was very hard on them to realize that five years of life had simply passed them by.

Steve had been talking about retirement for years. You knew he wanted to finally lay down the shield once and for all and the two of you had been talking about it more and more as time progressed. Finally, he decided to bring the team back to its former glory, to rebuild the facility and to find new possible recruits, before he’d finally call it quits forever.

Before that could be done, the Infinity Stones had to be returned to their respective timelines. Of course, he was the one to suggest to do it. You’d honestly be surprised if he didn’t offer to do it himself. You told him it was okay because you trusted him and trusted his judgment and if he felt like he could complete the mission successfully, you would stand behind him and support him because that’s what good girlfriends did.

You remembered the way he gently kissed you before stepping onto that godforsaken platform all too well, the way his hand caressed the side of your face and hair, the squeeze in your shoulder. It was a kiss unlike any of the ones you’d ever shared before, not even the ones he gave you after Tony’s funeral, filled with grief, sadness and need. No, this one was different. You didn’t know it at the time, but you did know it when looking back.

He was telling you goodbye.

“No,” you cried, “no, no, no!”

Your arms and legs flailed miserably, chest heaving rapidly up and down in irregular motions. Bucky cringed with how horribly upset and distraught you were, unsure of what the hell he should do about you crying beneath him.

He was sitting on the edge of your bed, rubbing your back in soft, circular motions while you hugged your pillow tight to your chest. Your face was red, tip of your nose glowing and your cheeks were so puffy you looked almost like a clown. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t think words could suffice or make you feel any better. He was probably right.

“Why?” You choked out, “Why did he leave me?”

You could hardly breathe without Steve.

Bucky could hardly understand what you were saying. Every word came out in hiccups, forced to the surface by the tension in your lungs and contracting chest. For a long moment, you stopped breathing. Bucky panicked immediately. His pulse quickened and grip on you tightened. Then, you took a deep, panicked breath of air with a high pitched cry.

All you could think of was Steve, how he glanced at you from his spot in the dead center of the platform. How his lips tightened into a sad line, how his brow creased and his eyes closed just before he disappeared on you forever. You should have fucking known, but how could you? He was everything you ever wanted and you thought you were the same to him. He never even gave you the indication that he was unhappy, that he didn’t love you. That he was going to leave you for her.

“Shh,” Bucky cooed, “It’s gonna be okay.”

Sam showed up at the door, which stood slightly ajar. His head peaked in, eyes following your heaving body and Bucky’s slouched form before resting on his face. Bucky shook his head. Sam quietly left. There was nothing he could do to ease the pain one of his best friends had caused you.

“Get some sleep,” he told you quietly after your sobs had silenced.

“Don’t leave me,” you managed to whimper, grabbing hold of his flesh arm and pulling it down with you.

You needed human contact, couldn’t stand the thought of being alone after being left by the love of your life.

“Of course,” he replied, biting the inside of his cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, sugar.”

You slept with Bucky by your side that night, still dressed in the clothes you’d put on while Steve was still lounging in bed that morning. The make-up you’d put on while Steve was in the shower had mostly come off on your sheets and on Bucky’s left shoulder. You clutched his shirt while you dreamt of Steve in short bursts, the desperate need for comfort so dire that you refused to let the man leave when he tried. He was angry too, angry with his best friend for putting the woman he loved so much through such pain.

You cried as soon as you woke up the next morning, hand sore from fisting Bucky’s shirt all night. Your head hurt terribly, a pressure had built up behind your eyes overnight and it worsened as the day continued. Bucky eventually managed to leave you alone so he could get changed and talked to Steve, who was now an old man instead of the man who’d taken you to Paris on your first anniversary.

You became indifferent to the saying ‘time heals all wounds’, because it no matter how many days passed you by, it never seized to hurt. Every little thing that reminded you of Steve would send you in a downward spiral. People recognizing you on the street for once being the most beloved Avenger began to walk around you with a wide arch because even they could tell something was terribly wrong with you. Soon enough, they all knew what had happened.

You hardly slept, because images of Steve dancing with Peggy haunted you all night long. Images of him, telling you he’d chosen her instead of you would flood your mind, along with pictures of the two of you when you were happy. You began to question it, all of it and wondered often what would’ve happened if you had been the one to join Tony on his journey back to the 70s instead of him. You wondered if he’d still be here, sleeping soundly next to you with his arms engulfing you in warmth. Now, there was only cold.

You didn’t have the energy to be productive anymore. Life without Steve was no life and the void of his existence had taken away the importance of everyday tasks for you. Literally, everything you came in contact with reminded you of him, from the cereal you used to eat together to the movies you would watch. You couldn’t go to your favorite coffee place anymore, because that’s where you went to get his morning cup on the weekends. You couldn’t even stand to look your fellow teammates in the eye. They’d become afraid to be around you, walking on eggshells when you ventured out of the depths of your room for food because they were scared of saying the wrong thing. It happened once when Bruce made a comment towards Sam’s shield. His shield.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he said as he watched Bucky carry you back to your room, “I fucked up, didn’t I?”

“It’s not your fault,” Wanda assured him, “She’s in a lot of pain right now. It could’ve been any of us.”

“Can’t we do something?” Sam asked, hands on his head.

Wanda shook her head, “We can support her, but she needs time to heal.”

You never knew heartbreak could cause physical pain, but the constant strain on your heart was exhausting. You went through entire boxes of Ibuprofen to ease the constantly looming headaches, but they did very little to ease the dull throbbing of the back of your head. Your eyes were red constantly and your skin didn’t glow anymore. Everything had dulled like Steve had taken your life light with him back to the past, engulfing you in complete darkness.

You’d never find someone like him again because nobody compared to him.

You often reminisced the good times you experienced with him by your side. The fun you had while sparring in the gym room, climbing on his back as he tried to push you to the floor. You thought back to the many dates you had, fancy candlelit dinners inside of expensive restaurants that involved your favorite flowers at the beginning of the night and passionate sex at the end. You remembered holidays, Tony’s extravagant parties that were mostly just you and him eye-fucking each other in fancy clothing with champagne on your breaths until it was late enough for you to bail so you could fuck for real.

It was holding his hand, kissing him hard and long on his beautiful mouth before he had to leave for missions that sometimes lasted far too long for both your liking. Placing fingers on his thigh while he was driving and toying with the soft fabric of his jeans higher and higher until he couldn’t take it anymore. It was walking on the beach early enough to see the sunrise and long drives back on the back of his motorcycle, safely hidden away from the world behind tinted helmets.

Now, there was nothing. No hand-holding, no joking around, no fucking each other in the storage closet because you couldn’t wait to get back to your room on the top floor. Nothing but emptiness, cold and dreadful and tiring like a weighted blanket made of snow that refused to thaw under your own body temperature.

Even when you finally decided to become more active again did the emptiness not leave you. It followed you around like a ghost, always lingering in every corner of every room you entered. Bucky felt sympathy for you, but even he couldn’t help you. You had to pull yourself from the depths of the ocean by yourself, had to swim back to the surface without a life vest or oxygen tank strapped to your back and you constantly felt like you were going to drown. Maybe you already had and this was your purgatory.

You couldn’t help but regret it sometimes. Getting together with him. It was when that looming darkness engulfed you that you allowed yourself to regret ever getting to meet him. You’d lay in bed at night and pray to the Gods to turn back time just once, allow yourself to make the choice that would’ve prevented you from getting to learn who Steve Rogers was because that choice ultimately led you to fall in love with him. If only you knew then what you knew now.

You sat by the fireplace alone now, staring at the smoldering embers and the flames that licked slowly burning wood. You watched the trees move in the wind by yourself now, watched the rain drip against the window panes with your knees pulled up to your chest. How could loving Steve Rogers hurt so fucking bad?

“How you holding up, kiddo?” Bucky asked, taking a seat beside you on the couch that directly faced the window.

“I’m alright,” you responded, voice raspy and dry.

He offered you a glass of water, which you took gladly. At least someone cared about you despite your efforts to push everyone away.

“I talked to him this morning,” he said finally, “he misses you, I think. Might even regret his decision to leave.”

Your eyes flicker to Bucky, then fall back on the fireplace, “I miss him too.”

“He asked how you were doing,” he said carefully.

“What did you say?”

Bucky exhaled, “I didn’t lie.”

A comfortable silence fell over you, allowing you to listen to the crackling of the fire and Bucky’s breathing beside you. Sometimes, no words needed to be said for them to be exchanged. You toyed with the shaggy blanket over your lap, twirling the fabric between your fingers.

“I don’t think he has a lot of time left.”

You scooted closer to him, allowing your head to rest on top of his torso. He patted your head and drew circles in your hair while you rested your eyes for a moment. You hardly slept the night before and were beginning to feel drowsy. You started napping frequently, finding sleep wherever and whenever you could because your bed was too empty and too large at night.

“Will you come with me?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course I will,” he said, nodding although you couldn’t see it, “I’ll come with you.”

“When?”

Bucky’s shoulders rose, “Whenever you’re ready. I’ll make time.”

Maybe you should’ve known that he’d go back to her if the opportunity arose. You’d heard stories, of course, Bucky had told you enough. Steve didn’t talk about her much, except for after her funeral, which he attended alone without telling you. You should’ve known it then with how messed up he was after her death. Should have known that he’d never been able to really get over her. You couldn’t even really blame him, either. She’d been ripped from him when he went into the ice and was already on her deathbed by the time he woke up. For her, a lifetime had gone by. To him, it felt like seconds. It’s how Bucky must’ve felt when he came back after the Snap.

Sitting with him on the couch, you weren’t sure if you would’ve changed things. You had a lot of good times with Steve, they largely overshadowed the bad. He’d made you a stronger person, made you appreciate your talents and weaknesses for what they were and he never made you feel less than your worth. He was a good man, you knew it deep down, but accepting that you might not have been good enough for him was a wound that would never heal, not even as you took your last breath.

Still, a small shimmer of hope began to grow somewhere deep within your chest like a seed had been planted. Laying with Bucky in silence, watching the rain pitter-patter against the window, made you think one thought before sleep engulfed you properly for the first time in months.

Maybe things were the way they were meant to be.

#steve rogers imagine #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagines #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel #marvel fic #steve rogers fic #captain america imagine #captain america #captain america smut #captain america fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #jammywrites #steve rogers angst #captain america angst

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heli0s-writes · 5 years ago

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I. Soulmate Series and Peculiar Pairs

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes Summary: An introduction to the mystery of soulmates and love. You’re just another person lost in the world, trying to find yours.. until you give up. You meet some Avengers on the way. A/N: Part 1 of Mystery of Love.

The world had a very singular definition of soulmates: Two people, entwined by fate, perfectly right for each other, destined to meet and exist as one. The cosmos willed this. God willed it. The universe willed it. Whatever anyone’s religious or personal beliefs may be- there was a reply.

Children were told stories of their parents’ meeting and The Words they said to each other that sealed their future. These prophesized utterances would form onto their skin and scratch itself onto a special place in a script unique to that person’s handwriting. The lore of The Words were in every fairy tale and film. No wonder it had always been your dream to meet yours.

Your own parents met in Kindergarten, when your mother moved from Jersey to Manhattan because her father had been transferred to a higher position. He was hesitant at first, to leave their small city and large family behind, but changed his mind in early spring. The first day she set foot in her classroom, as she’d tell you over and over again, she was seated next to a chubby, freckled boy who shook her hand. With a firm grip, he yelled “Hello, beautiful!” and before she could respond, she had doubled over to scream.

When the teacher rushed over and your mother finally stopped crying, she’d lifted her paisley cotton shirt to see the askew “hEllo BEaUtiFul” letters circling her belly button. She pointed a finger to your father, blubbering uncontrollably, and yelled, “It’s you! You’re my soulmate!” and then it became his turn to double over.

The teacher called both their mothers and their mothers had taken them out of school for the rest of the day. They spent it in each other’s company, learning each other’s names, playing, eating ice-cream, and then took a nap, pinkies touching. They were inseparable ever since.

At age 4, it was your favorite story, and you wanted to hear it every night before bed. Your parents were the essence of perfection: your mother’s hair was always impeccable, your father’s shirt was always pressed, and they always kissed at the door when he’d leave for work.

At age 6, you began to wonder about your own soulmate. “Does it hurt very bad, mama?” “Why haven’t I met him yet?” “What if he’s mean to me?” “What if he moves away, mama?”

Your mother always assured you that it was meant to be. You were designed to be loved. The universe would never, ever, leave anyone out. Soulmates were destiny, and destiny was final. You were pleased with the answers she provided, and happy to hear them every time she reminded you.

At age 8, you’d forgotten all about soulmates. Boys were meant to be chased away on the playground, wrestled with in the grass, beaten in a game of soccer. Girls were your confidants, your sisters, who’d braid your hair and dance with you through the living room. Soulmates were for adults, and more than that, you were afraid of the pain of someone’s Words carving into your skin. There were rumors of 5th graders who found their soulmate in the fall, but they were big kids and you put off thinking about it for many years and stopped asking questions.

At age 14, it was no longer something you could ignore. Many girls were going through changes, some had looked like they were already finished, while you had barely started. Boys changed too. Everyone began to notice each other. And you began to notice yourself in this extant space. High school was extremely daunting, and on your first day, you promised yourself that you’d find your soulmate in this large campus.

Some juniors who had soulmates were already married with their parents’ eager approval. There was a club dedicated to meeting as many students in the school as possible to find your soulmate. On Thursday mornings they held “speed-meeting” sessions where one side held a notecard that said, “You are mine” and the other side, “I am yours” there were many variations that were available such as, “You are the light of my life” or “I’ll love you forever”.

You tried many times, afraid that if your soulmate was a senior and they graduated this year, you’d have to wait forever to meet them. After December, it was taking a toll on your heart. All of those sessions of sitting down and staring into the eyes of new started out exciting, but slowly turned banal and drove you into melancholy. Being bound to one person was supposed to be magical, but the recurring meetings felt disingenuous. You didn’t want to meet your soulmate in a sterilized setting, reading a notecard of words that were not from your heart.

Around winter vacation, you were so despondent and anxious that it began to manifest in severe and constant stomach pains. Your parents began to discuss the possibility of counseling. You refused them, afraid that you’d be labelled as a lovelorn freak for the rest of your life. They did relent, and instead gave you a very nice digital camera for Christmas, hoping it could be a hobby to distract you from your worries. Your very first picture was of your parents under the Christmas tree. Your second picture was of their Words, side by side. It took five months for your spasms to ease.

In your later teens, you began to branch out in earnest to find that person. You had worked as a hostess during senior year to maximize your chance of meeting someone, and even landed a barista job at one of the busiest cafés in Manhattan your freshman year of college at a small conservative university. You joined a sorority and lost count of all the events you’d attend and all the fraternity boys you’d met during that year. It was too much, in the end, you were focused on your studies and couldn’t stand another year in that tiny white picket-fence house always reeking of hairspray and Victoria Secret body mist.

You continued taking photographs and enrolled in art classes the following year. You had won a small scholarship and the funds went into a new professional camera. Mid-sophomore year, you quit your job at the café and began to take pictures for the University’s paper, penning food and entertainment columns here and there, primarily about your local college town. You submitted in group exhibitions and struggled to balance classes, a job, and your own inquiries of love. Most of your friends had met their soulmates, and when your roommate came home breathless, freshly inked in beautiful cursive script, and screamed, “It’s a girl!!”, you broke down.

You had never thought of the possibility of being with a woman. But what if the universe decided that it was? Could you love a woman, like that? You spent the rest of the weekend curled up in bed, ill with stomachaches, questioning everything you knew about yourself and your capacity to love.

You called home to ask your mother, “What if my soulmate is a woman?” and the audible gasp on the other line confirmed the feeling in your gut. You weren’t done yet. “What if my soulmate is a hundred and ten on his deathbed? What if he’s a murderer? What if… god forbid, a child?” the tears wouldn’t stop. You were hysterical. You no longer searched for “the one”.

Junior year, you spent a brief fall session abroad in Italy. It was a small group of 5 with one of your favorite professors and you were free to explore your own body of work in your specialty. This was the perfect opportunity to build your portfolio with historic sites and modern culture. Italy was beautiful, romantic, and being there felt like a dream. One of your cohort members met her soulmate while asking him for permission to sketch his picture. He was a green-eyed man with dark, curly hair swept in a low ponytail. Her Words appeared on his arm, “Excuse me! Do you mind?”

And his Words, “Non parlo inglese” Meaning, “I do not speak English”

After their shock subsided, they shared a laugh and you took their picture together, matching tender forearms side-by-side.

As intended, you didn’t find your soulmate in Italy, either. But you did find a spark. The whole soulmate business was breeding so many questions that were turning into criticisms inside you. The picture of your friend in Italy started churning the gears of your body of work. You began to seek out silly or strange First Words to photograph, and at the end of your spring semester, you held a solo exhibition back home. It was a smash and featured in the local paper on page 5. Soon after, it became viral on the internet.

Reviews raved about the humor of your photographs (one set of First Words read, “You think I’m cute, huh” and “You’re a fucking nightmare-boy”. Another, “Bless you” and “That wasn’t a sneeze” your personal favorite, "Give me your wallet" and "Oh hell no").

People were alarmed at some of the less traditional pairs you found: differing intense religious beliefs (Roman Catholic, and Satanist), age-disparity (15 year gap between them), familial relations (they were first-cousins), those encumbered by illness (one had been in a coma for 5 years), and something that was so rare you’d only read about it happening twice, ever: multiple soulmates.

In that particular case, you had put an advertisement online and received an e-mail that night from someone who wanted to refer you to their uncle and his family. You went the next morning to Prospect Park and met John and his soulmates Francis and Marilynn. You spent three hours with them that day. The photos you took were beyond lovely.

In senior year, you had a portfolio that was known world-wide. You were receiving so many e-mails a day about photo opportunities that your business address bounced back at least twice a week for 24 hours. Most of them were very desperate calls for attention, struggles for their 15 seconds of fame, you rarely had the time (or patience) to give an e-mail a second look. You put that body of work on hold, but still opened an online store to sell prints and gave the occasional phone interview. Between that and the various photography jobs you received elsewhere, you were self-sufficient and hardly struggled. You lived in a one-bedroom apartment and looked forward to travelling in the U.S. after college.

It was winter of senior year when you received a message in your personal e-mail that caught you by surprise. It was from Pepper Potts. The Pepper Potts. You were holed up cozily during a blizzard and almost spilled your tea in your lap. It was an invitation for you to visit Stark Tower headquarters, take a few pictures, and go home. The way she worded it was extremely delicate, making sure to flatter your work but also very strictly state the terms of agreement. She made sure to mention that you would be paid generously, of course.

When the snow melted, you made your journey, camera bag across your chest.

At age 20, you met Iron Man, Tony Stark, self-proclaimed billionaire, philanthropist, playboy, genius. You also met Natasha Romanoff, also known as Black Widow.

Ms. Potts had met you at the door, opening it and extending her hand. She immediately thanked you for coming in the cold and praised your photographs. It surprised you when she admitted that as famous as your Soulmate Series was, she was more intrigued by the tenderness of the candid shots you routinely represented in your work, not your actual choice of subject. She had also done some research and found various college articles where you took pictures of local businesses and restaurants. “The intimacy that you captured of the most mundane of places… they were beautiful. I knew you were the person I wanted.” You laughed about your naiveite in those days, being only a newbie at photography, but Ms. Potts shushed you.

She led you to a conference room and slid a contract in front of you, asking for your patience and understanding at the long document. After the end of nearly an hour and a half of reviewing, questioning, and a sneaky interview process, you were ready to begin. A lanyard was placed in your hand with your picture and a keycode, giving you access to certain floors of the building.

The contract was complicated, but it boiled down to this: You were hired by Stark Industries to photograph their employees (and future employees) as well as any floor you had access to. It was your job to deliver simple and tasteful photos to represent the Stark image. You understood it to mean that your job was to create a cult of personality for Stark Industries somewhere in the realm of capable, trustworthy, and familiar- as if these people could be your close friends. The contract spanned a 30-day period where you were able to enter the tower at your leisure and convenience, wander as you wished, ask any questions you may have, and ultimately submit a binder of no less than 50 pictures with your detailed notes (including personal opinion on each photo).

Ms. Potts strongly suggested that if this assignment went well, she had high hopes for your future at Stark Industries. She kept her promise and continued to reach out to you about assignments.

At 21, almost immediately after your graduation, you met Thor, Hawkeye, and Dr. Banner- you prayed you would never meet his other half. That same year, you also met him.

Captain America. Every child in America knew about Steve Rogers. When news leaked that his body had been found frozen and that he was living in New York, it stunned you. He was a (newly) living (dead?!) legend; the idea of him was too much. When it dawned on you that you would be photographing him, you immediately threw up.

You would never forget that day. Your stomach hurt all night. It hadn’t done that since you were a child.

When you entered Stark Tower- you were too nervous to even notice that it had been transformed to the newly dubbed Avengers Tower. You rode the elevator up to the conference room where you scheduled to meet Ms. Potts, but Mr. Stark was there instead. Next to him, was the unmistakable physique of Captain Rogers. Your stomach twisted itself into a pretzel and you had to suck in a deep breath to continue walking upright.

You were so nervous that when Stark asked you for the umpteenth time to please call him Tony, you nearly twisted your ankle by mis-stepping. Sadly for him, you wouldn’t utter his first name for another few years. Captain Rogers had narrowed his eyes at you and the camera bag hanging limply on your hip. You could not stop trembling under his scrutiny. Even Tony offered you a drink to take the edge off.

Finally, he spoke.

“Good morning,” he said quietly, giving you a gentle nod.

You didn’t stop to look as you bolted out of the conference room and down the hall. As soon as you reached the toilet, you threw up.

The bile and acid that burned a path up your throat lingered all day and flared constantly in Captain Rogers’ presence. Your chest burned like a blaze. He in turn, gave you inspecting, worried glances and never tried to come any closer than 10 feet. You thanked him silently from across rooms and hallways. Mr. Stark joked that the best candid moments with Captain Rogers were in the showers, but if you kept getting sick like that, you’ll never get a chance. Your stomach did not appreciate the insinuation whatsoever.

Ms. Potts was infinitely more helpful. She sent you down to the infirmary but they could find nothing wrong with you. The nurse helping you, however, did notice that you had suddenly formed a bright pink rash right in the middle of your chest after watching you nervously rub your torso.

You thought nothing more of it, and by the time you got home, it had vanished.

The contract Ms. Potts emailed you that night detailed the next assignment, and upon completion, you would be paid 20 thousand dollars, more than double the amounts you’d previously received. Her postscript thanked you for your hard work with the Avengers, specifically, your patience with Tony and his constant quips, but that she wanted you to take some time to yourself and explore the world. Twenty-one, she said, was a tremendously important year for young women, and that she hoped to see more of your photography that was special to you, rather than necessary to her.

That night, you broke your apartment lease and made plans to travel at the end of the month. For the next 30 days, you took some of the best photos you had ever taken of the Avengers. However, you deeply regretted every photo you took of Captain Rogers. They were never as detailed or intimate as any of the rest. He was always either in a group setting, or far off, jogging, training, perhaps reading a book… across the kitchen, on the other side of a window.

You were afraid of him. Or rather, you were afraid of how your body reacted to him. From time to time, you’d see him look at you apologetically, which made it a million times worse.

After your assignment was finished and the rest of the payment was deposited in your account, you sold your furniture and packed two bags. For the two years, you spent time in Thailand, Russia, Italy, New Zealand, Saudi Arabia, and even a few icy weeks visiting the Arctic.

Once again, you picked up your Soulmates Series. This time you solely focused on what you lovingly called peculiar pairs.

In Thailand, you found a pair of non-gender conforming soulmates who lived in a large community of entirely non gender conforming people. Most of the country itself was extremely accepting and kindhearted, something that pained you to think about in regard to your own home. You learned so much about sexuality and identity in your time with them, and at the end of your trip, you felt entirely changed about your perspective on what it was to be male and female- and whether or not it actually mattered!

In Russia, you met two people who identified as asexual- one being intersex. On the day you met, he identified as male and wore trousers and ordered the strongest coffee you had ever tasted. The next day, you hardly recognized him in a lavender gown, and were surprised and happily obliged when he asked you to use feminine pronouns. Upon your departure, he was back again in trousers and let you use masculine pronouns in your writing. It broke your heart to learn about their struggle in a country that shunned and viewed them with contempt.

Your travels brought you to many identities and many facets of love. There were couples who never engaged in romantic activity, but cherished each other more than you’d ever felt from another soul. There were others still who’s lives were kept secret from their families and their society, at large. There was a household in Italy with a husband and wife, not soulmates, living with another man, whose soulmate had been the husband. They met by chance on the train. The wife was 7 months along, and there was incredible tension under their roof. Most days, they made it fine, some days, she expressed to you, she couldn’t help but fall asleep crying.

Sometimes, you would meet soulmates that made you truly question the work. These pairs haunted you.

In New Zealand, a man was 65 when he met his soulmate; he had waited all his life. She was a young volunteer at the day care center where he worked. He thought she would reject him because of their age difference, but she loved him. They spent one blissful day together. The next day, she was involved in a fatal accident on her way to work. You sat in silence in his living room as he held onto a picture of her and sobbed.

At the end of your travels, departing from Saudi Arabia, your heart was full of grief about soulmates. The last pair you visited was in a dimly lit home, where the husband smoked profusely, and you could not see his wife until the very end. When she came into the light, her eyes were both blackened, and she could not speak due to the stitches in her mouth.

Returning to Manhattan, at age 23, you had given up on not only your own soulmate, but all soulmate indoctrination. Your heart was hardened by the knowledge that predestiny could usher in such suffering, and that love could be so terrible. You began to resist.

Next Chapter

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #reader insert #mcu x reader #Mystery of Love heli0s #soulmate au

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squibbles94 · 4 years ago

Link

Fandom: MCU

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark (NOT STARKER) Peter Parker & Pepper Potts Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

Rated T for language and violence

Warnings: Graphic Depiction of Violence

Square Filled: Overdose

To say that Peter was having a bad day was an understatement. He and May got into another argument about Spider-Man, even though it wasn't his fault that he was late the previous night. There was a hostage situation that he had to take care of. It wasn't that he didn't trust the police, he did, but there were too many men with guns and too few officers on site. There was a kid in the store. Peter couldn't walk away. In doing so, he ended up being over an hour late getting home, and of course, Aunt May was still awake waiting for him. Thankfully, they didn't talk about it then, but Peter suspected that waiting gave Aunt May time to think through her punishment.

Two weeks without Spider-Man.

Peter had protested the punishment until Aunt May threatened to make it a month. The boy knew he wouldn't be able to go that long without saving people. It was hard enough to go the two weeks that he knew he deserved. What May didn't understand was that Spider-Man wasn't something he did for fun. It was something he had to do.

He could hear them; all the people who cried out at night. He could hear the whimpers of children in their homes when they got in trouble for sneaking sweets from the kitchen. He could hear the heartbeat of a scared woman as she walked home at night. He could hear the threats lobbed at the homeless that cowered in the darkened corners of alleyways. He could hear all the turmoil that rang through the city.

Usually, he was able to drown the sounds out if he tried hard enough. If he tired himself out with patrol or kept his mind on something, he could block out the city. But there were nights that his mind couldn't conjure a single moment of concentration. Not a single ounce of peace. Normally, when this would happen, Peter would go out in the suit. He would help those he could because it was his job. His responsibility. Though, the way patrolling made his muscles feel like rubber and his body ache enough for him to fall into a deep sleep wasn't an unwelcome side effect.

But instead of swinging through the city, Peter lay on his bed, trying to drown out the sounds coming from far below his apartment. He had tried studying to keep his mind busy, but it only took him a couple of hours before he went through everything. Then, he cleaned his room, much to Aunt May's pleasure. He had dinner and tried not to notice the worried glances May was shooting his way. He tried pacing the length of his room. But even with the monotonous motions he went through, he couldn't tire himself out or calm his brain enough for it to grant him the sleep that he craved.

Peter groaned as he looked at his clock and realized it was already four in the morning. Peter hadn't realized it was that late, but he was dreading his alarm that would chime in a couple of hours. He had a math test at school the next day that he was sure to fail and an Academic Decathlon meeting after school. MJ would murder him if he skipped it, so he resigned himself to his long day coming up and hoped he wouldn’t accidentally stick to something, which happened sometimes when he wasn’t careful.

He closed his eyes, trying to get at least a few minutes of sleep. He tried not to concentrate on anything other than his breathing. Slowly the sounds from the city drifted to a low hum. The silence enveloped him, and Peter almost cried with relief as he felt his body slowly relaxing into his pillow.

As if his life was being run by a cruel god, the sound of a phone chiming punctured the silence that Peter craved. Lifting his head slightly, he banged it against his pillow a few times while cursing the person who messaged him. Then he cursed himself for not putting it on silent.

Sighing in resolution, Peter picked up his phone and was greeted with Tony Stark's contact picture smiling at him. It wasn’t one of his public smiles that he showed to news cameras, but the soft one he held when he saw Peter.

4:01 Mr. Stark: Hey, kiddo. Just wanted to check that you were still coming over tomorrow

4:01 Mr. Stark: Well, I guess it's today. Sorry about the time, kid.

4:02 Mr. Stark: Just text me when you wake up.

4:04 Peter: I'm awake.

4:04 Peter: Are you sure I'm supposed to come over today? I thought I was coming over on Saturday.

4:05 Mr. Stark: May didn't tell you?

4:05 Mr. Stark: Why are you up anyway? Isn't it past your bedtime or something?

4:07 Peter: May didn't say anything to me. What's going on?

4:10 Incoming Call: Tony Stark

Peter groaned a bit, wondering why Tony was calling him at four in the morning. Even if he was texting back, it was odd that Tony would call him. Peter took a deep breath and hit the accept button.

"Hi, Mr. Stark," Peter mumbled.

"You never answered my question. Why are you up?" Tony asked, not bothering with greetings.

Peter stared at the ceiling for a second, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. When nothing came to him, he said, "I just woke up and decided to check my phone. There's really no reason, Mr. Stark."

There was silence on the other side of the phone for a few moments. Peter figured the man was deciding whether or not to believe him.

"You're not out in your suit, are you?" he finally asked.

"No. I’m still grounded. Plus, you would know if I was because you have more protocols for my suit than you probably have for your own," Peter grumbled, knowing the man was fishing for information.

"Well, I gotta keep everyone's favorite vigilante alive and kicking. Not to mention, your aunt would flay me alive if anything happened to you."

"You know she won't actually kill you, right?"

"I don't want to take my chances on that. Italian women are scary when they are mad. Anyway, she called me yesterday and said you've been in a funk. I suggested that you come stay the weekend at the Tower. There are a few Spidey things I wanna run by you."

Peter draped his arm over his eyes, ignoring the several alarm clocks going off around the building and his neighbors' morning activities three doors down. "Sure. If May said it was okay, then we should be fine."

"Happy will pick you up after school. Do me a favor, and don't be late," Tony said.

"I'm never late," Peter scoffed.

"Sure. Except every time you are, I get a call from Happy about how you are going to be late, and I shouldn't send out the national guard to look for you."

Peter wracked his brain for something to say that didn't sound whiny or rude but came up with nothing. So he decided to hum in acknowledgment instead.

Tony sighed softly. "Get some sleep, kiddo. You know I worry about you," he said, his voice becoming softer than Peter had ever heard it before.

"I know, Mr. Stark. See you after school. Promise I won't be late."

Peter sighed as the line went dead. He knew Mr. Stark cared about him and that he was just trying to do what was best. Sometimes it felt like Peter was failing at every turn, and there was nothing he could do about it. No matter what he did, someone would be disappointed in him. He knew Aunt May was worried; he would have to be a fool to miss the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn't looking. She forgot that he could hear exceptionally well and would go into her room to talk about him with Mr. Stark or Pepper. He tried not to listen to the conversations, but he couldn't always help it.

Peter flinched as he heard glass shatter from the alley three blocks away. It sounded like someone threw a bottle against the wall, and Peter could practically hear every crack that developed as the glass broke. Closing his eyes tightly, Peter willed himself to get at least a bit of rest before his alarm went off, even if he didn't get any actual sleep, it would help a little bit.

How was he going to get through the weekend without Mr. Stark figuring out that Peter was sleep-deprived? This thought plagued Peter as he stared at the ceiling, wishing his brain and ears would just disconnect from the world.

Then it occurred to him. There was a bottle of sleeping pills that his aunt bought after Ben died. She was having trouble sleeping, so she bought the pills to push her along a bit. It was a temporary fix while she grieved, and thankfully she was able to get to sleep on her own after a while. He knew she kept them in her medicine cabinet, and she wouldn't be home in the morning when he left for school. It would be easy to pocket them on his way out, and no one would know he was having such a hard time sleeping.

Peter was still thinking about this when he startled slightly from the shrill noise of May's alarm going off.

5:00.

School was going to be terrible.

The black Audi pulled up to the Avengers Tower just as the rain started pelting the asphalt around the city. Peter was hoping to talk with Ned and MJ a bit before Happy picked him up, but his hopes were dashed when the man was already waiting for him outside the school. He tried to make pleasant conversation with the man that drove him every couple of weeks, but he was too tired to keep it up for long. So, as they parked, Peter wasn't surprised when Happy turned to him with a worried frown.

"Okay, kid. What's going on with you?" he asked.

Peter did his best to give a nonchalant shrug. "Nothing. Just a bit tired."

Happy squinted his eyes slightly. "Honestly, you look like crap."

"Thanks," Peter said dryly.

"I mean it. Does Tony know what's going on with you?"

"Yep. Don't worry about it, Happy."

"Fine. Get out before I start to actually feel sorry for you."

Peter gave the man a nod and slid out of the car with a slight groan. He had gotten used to how his muscles would pull tight after a rough patrol, but the ache that had seeped into his bones all day was something different. Peter was no stranger to not getting sleep, but this was the longest he's been without at least a few hours and his body was feeling it.

Usually, Mr. Stark would meet Peter in the lab after he was done with his meetings. Sometimes, he was there before Peter, but that wasn't the norm. So, when Peter heard the loud bass of rock music coming from the lab, he let out a small smile. Mr. Stark never played his music that loud when Peter was in the lab because of his senses, something Peter was eternally grateful for.

Pushing open the door, Peter winced slightly at the volume of the ACDC song that Mr. Stark was listening to.

"That'll make you go deaf, you know," Peter yelled over the music.

"Fri, music," Mr. Stark instructed his A.I. before turning to Peter with a smile. "If it hasn't done it yet, I'm sure it won't. How was school?"

Peter shrugged off his backpack as he reached his small desk on the side of the room. "It was okay."

"Did you end up getting any sleep after we got off the phone?"

"Yep. Not much, but it was better than nothing. Did you?" Peter asked, trying to distract from the lie.

“Nice try changing the subject. Not happening. I can tell you haven’t been sleeping.”

"I have been-"

"With the circles under your eyes that have their own circles, I would seriously doubt that. Which, by the way, you have a bedtime."

"What?" Peter groaned. "I'm not five years old. You've never given me a bedtime before."

"Still. My house. My rules. Yada yada." Mr. Stark waved his hand in Peter's general direction.

"That's not fair," Peter argued.

"No, what's not fair is the fact that I have been working on this prototype by myself because you have school. Now, get over here and help me with this."

Peter smiled slightly as he trudged over to the workbench. He knew Mr. Stark loved that Peter was able to be a real kid and go to high school, but there was a part of him that wondered how life would be when he didn't have school to take his time. Peter wondered if Mr. Stark would want him to work directly with him full time, or if he would have to start from the bottom of the company.

As it was, Peter was content with spending time with his mentor in the lab where he had access to materials his classmates only dreamed about. He was fine watching the man work and learning as much as possible, just in case he didn't have the opportunity to continue with the internship after college. He loved watching Mr. Stark next to him fiddle with a piece of technology until he found the solution to a problem he faced. There was a manic concentration that Mr. Stark had that worked for him, even if it meant there were half-finished projects scattered around the lab.

"See how this wire is starting to fray a bit?" Mr. Stark asked, pulling Peter out of his thoughts.

"Yep."

"Okay, what do we need to do? Step by step."

Peter thought about it for a minute before launching into his solution and explaining why. When he was done, Mr. Stark smiled slightly at him. Something like pride flooded his voice when he said, "perfect."

After dinner, they worked for a few hours before Mr. Stark cleared his throat and turned to face Peter. "So. Anything you wanna talk about? Anything going on in that head of yours that makes it hard to sleep?"

Peter caught the groan that almost burst from his lips. "Not really. Just normal stuff."

"Normal is relative," Mr. Stark argued. "Come on, kid, spill it."

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" Peter asked.

"It's like you know me."

Peter stalled as much as he could before Mr. Stark's gaze was too much to ignore. He looked at his fingers that were intertwined in this lap. Hesitating, Peter said, "sometimes it's just hard to sleep. It's like my brain won't shut up." He decided that part of the truth was enough. Mr. Stark didn't need to know about the nightmares or the constant barrage of stimuli when his senses were fragile enough for a sneeze to send him into a sensory overload.

"That makes sense. The same thing happens to me. Sometimes I wanna carve my brain out just to make it stop, but I've decided I like my intelligence."

"So how do you? Make it stop, I mean?" Peter mumbled, almost desperately.

Mr. Stark grimaced slightly. "I don't know how to tell you this, kid, but I spend a lot of my time awake because I would rather be productive than just lying in bed. Not that I'm suggesting that for you."

Peter hung his head slightly and huffed an annoyed breath. "Well, I could just stay down here and help you in the lab," he suggested hopefully.

"Nice try, Underoos. You still have a bedtime." The man checked his watch. "Which is in about twenty minutes."

"What? Come on, Mr. Stark, can't I have another hour?" Peter asked.

"No can do, kiddo. Let's go up to the apartment and get you some hot tea before you head off to bed. Maybe it'll help put you to sleep. All this can wait until tomorrow."

Peter frowned but followed Mr. Stark out of the lab. As they walked down the hallway, the man put an arm around his shoulders in a show of comfort and adoration. Their mentor friendship really came a long way since that car ride home from Germany, and Peter was grateful for it. He knew Mr. Stark didn't have to spend time with him or teach him anything, and for a while, he thought that he was just muscle for the Avengers to use when they needed him. As time went on, Peter realized that Mr. Stark was genuinely worried and protective of him. It was annoying, but it also left Peter with a warm feeling in his stomach every time a new protocol was enforced.

As Peter watched Mr. Stark expertly make a tea that was supposed to help with sleeping, he couldn't help but chuckle. "I never thought you would know how to make tea. Isn’t there a rule about coffee drinkers not being able to make tea?"

Without pausing his task, Mr. Stark hummed. "Well, it helps Pepper sleep. I learned a long time ago that tea was always something that calmed her down if she was having a bad day. I figured it was worth it to learn."

Peter took the mug that was presented to him and inhaled the slightly bitter scent. He hardly ever drank tea, but was pleasantly surprised that he liked it so much.

"Thanks," he murmured.

Mr. Stark shifted slightly on his feet and leaned against the counter, so he looked as casual as possible. "You know, after New York, I had some pretty bad nightmares."

Peter tensed slightly, not knowing where Mr. Stark was going with his statement.

Without waiting for a response, Mr. Stark continued, "I thought there was something wrong with me. I even accidentally called a suit to me one night, and it attacked Pepper." Pausing, Mr. Stark looked Peter in the eye and made sure the boy was listening. "When bad things happen to us, sometimes we have dreams. It's our brain's way of working through the things we can't face or don't want to think about while we're up and kicking. It's normal. So, if there's something else going on that you don't want to tell me about, that's fine. I just want to make sure you know that I'm here, you know, if you want to talk about it. I get it."

Peter nodded minutely and gave Mr. Stark a small smile. "Thanks. I'll keep it in mind."

Mr. Stark sniffed loudly and stood up straight. "Alright, enough feelings. Finish up your tea so we can get you to bed."

The sound of heels clicking along the floor greeted Peter's ears right before Pepper's voice rang out. "I hope you're going to take your own advice, Tony."

Pepper stepped into the kitchen, her hair loosely cascading down her back, and her mascara slightly smudged. It looked like she had a long day, but she managed to shoot Peter a wide smile. "Hi, sweetie. Did you guys have fun today?"

"Oh yeah. You know how Mr. Stark is, there's always something to work on."

Turning an accusatory stare at Mr. Stark, Pepper hummed. "Oh, I know. That's why he's been running on coffee for, what has it been, two days now?"

Mr. Stark had the decency to look a bit sheepish. "It hasn't been two days. I slept last night in the lab."

Pepper arched an eyebrow. "F.R.I.D.A.Y.?"

"Boss took a thirty-minute nap last night at approximately two in the morning."

"Hey," Mr. Stark admonished.

Peter couldn't help feeling horrified. "Mr. Stark, why didn't you tell me? We could have done something else, or you could have taken a nap."

"I was up anyway. Plus, I'm not asking you over here to just leave you alone. I have standards. Anyway, you have room to talk."

Pepper shook her head at the two geniuses. "I, for one, am exhausted. I also think it's a good time for everyone to get some sleep."

Her eyes raked over Peter, and he was suddenly aware of his slumped posture and unkempt hair. He knew he looked horrible, and he was glad Mr. Stark didn't say anything to him about his appearance. Pepper, it seemed, didn't mind pointing it out.

"Pep, I have a ton of-"

"No. You need to sleep, Tony." Pepper made her way over to the man, her hands on her hips. "First off, you need to set a better example for Peter.” Casting Peter an accusatory glance, she said, “don't think I haven't noticed the dark circles under your eyes, young man.”

Then she turned back to Tony and leaned in close. "Second. I've woken up alone in bed for the past two days."

Peter watched as the two adults in front of him had a conversation with their facial expressions. He saw the arched eyebrows and the tilting of Mr. Stark's head before he understood the context. Peter felt heat shoot up into his cheeks, and he found his tea suddenly interesting. He downed the rest of it and tried to suppress the smile that broke out on his face when Mr. Stark sighed heavily. Peter always found it amusing when Pepper put Mr. Stark in his place. So far, she was the only person who could boss the man around that Peter saw, so he couldn't stop himself from finding the situation heartwarming. For all that Mr. Stark tried to put on a show that he didn't care, Peter could see that facade crack around Pepper. It was nice.

"I'm just gonna..." Peter said, standing up.

He didn't make it too far before he heard Mr. Stark say, "sorry, Pep. I need to go tuck the kid in."

"We're not done here, Mr. Stark ," Pepper warned. "You better be in our bedroom when I get out of the shower."

"Yes, ma'am," Mr. Stark called over his shoulder.

"Goodnight, Pepper," Peter called.

"Goodnight, sweetie. Get some rest," Pepper called, her voice warm. It reminded Peter of how his aunt told him goodnight, and he couldn't stop the swell of affection he had for the woman.

After a pat on the back and a reminder that he needed to actually get some sleep from Mr. Stark, Peter found himself staring at the ceiling. He was far enough above the city that he was able to block out most of the sounds. Thankfully, the building didn't have many residents, and the only thing below them were empty workshops and offices. He could still hear the faint sounds of sirens and the creaking of the building as it swayed slightly. It always made him a bit uneasy to know that he was in a building so tall that the wind actually had an effect on it. Memories of the building that the Vulture brought down on him flashed through Peter's mind, which he hastily pushed away.

Still, he contemplated the work he and Mr. Stark needed to do the next day as well as the homework he had. As his mind went through his checklists, Peter’s heart rate began to increase. He didn’t mean to stress himself out. It just kind of happened.

Peter tried to calm himself down, but he was already too wound up. Before he could stop it, the sounds from the city suddenly became clear. It was almost as if he was standing in the middle of the city with headphones that amplified the smallest sounds. Peter knew the only way to make it go away was to calm down. That was easier said than done.

He went through all the ways that he could have avoided his sensory overload. He tried to drown out the sounds by thinking about MJ and the book that she was reading the day before. She told him about it in great detail at lunch, and he couldn’t get over how excited she looked. It was a rare thing for her to tear down her walls and Peter was grateful that she could do it with him.

He glanced over at his clock and groaned when he saw that it was past two in the morning. He had been thinking about everything for over three hours.

Maybe he should go talk to Mr. Stark about it. He might be able to help. The man did say he could go to him if he needed it. Peter shook his head free of that thought. Mr. Stark needed his rest, and Pepper would be angry if he bothered them. The woman said herself that she was worried about Mr. Stark. It really wasn’t his place to interrupt their sleep. He would just deal with it himself. Then a thought occurred to him.

The pills.

He could take the sleeping pills.

Sliding out of bed, Peter made his way to the bathroom that was connected to his room. He searched through his bag, shifting aside his toothbrush and grabbed the pills. The instructions said to take two capsules, but he was sure he needed to take more. Peter had an advanced metabolism, so most of the time, drugs didn't work on him. Maybe if he took more than normal people needed, he would be fine, and it would work.

He uncapped the bottle and shook the pills into his hand. Maybe if he took the whole bottle, it would work faster. He knew it was dangerous for people with regular metabolisms, but he would be fine. Worst case, he would probably sleep longer than he usually did. Peter made his way back to his bed before grabbing the glass of water on his bedside table.

The pills were bitter as they slid down his throat, the coating on them dissolving as soon as they hit his tongue. It took a few gulps of water to get them all down, but he decided that it was to be expected. Peter lay down in his bed, praying they would work soon.

There was buzzing on Tony's wrist. He groaned and pressed the button on the side of his watch. Whoever was calling could wait until morning. Shifting, Tony tried to slide back into the dreamless sleep that he had fallen into. It wasn't often that he was able to sleep so soundly, so someone calling was more annoying than it should have been.

"Boss," F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke over the speakers in the bedroom.

That got his attention. He set the A.I. in silent mode, which meant she could only contact him through his watch unless there was an emergency.

"Fri, what's going on?"

"Mr. Parker's vital signs are worrisome. He is not responding to my inquiries and has thrown up in his sleep."

Tony felt his heart almost jump out of his chest. No. "What happened?" he yelled as he flung himself out of bed.

"I'm not sure, Boss. His breathing accelerated, and he passed out. He has been unconscious for approximately five minutes."

"Get Cho down here. Now," he yelled as he ran across the hall.

Tony flung himself into Peter's room without knocking and stopped cold when he saw Peter lying on the ground. The blankets were tangled around his legs, and he was on his stomach. Crashing painfully on his knees, Tony turned his kid over, ignoring the vomit that was splattered down Peter's shirt.

"Peter!" Tony yelled, trying to wake the unconscious teen.

Pulling Peter into his lap, he tapped the side of the boy's face causing it to lull to the side. Peter was limp in his arms, and he was so pale. He was so fucking pale. It made Tony feel like concrete had been poured into his chest.

"Wake up, kid. Come on. Wake up for me," Tony pleaded.

He placed his hand over Peter's pulse point and sighed in relief when there was movement under his fingers. He was still alive, but his pulse was slow, almost nonexistent.

"Peter!" Tony shook the kid again. He was sure he wasn't supposed to be this rough with him, but he couldn't control the panic that crawled up his throat.

"Fri, where the hell is Cho?"

"She's in the elevator."

"Peter? Come on, wake up." Tony ran his shaking fingers through Peter's hair, trying to comfort him, to wake him, really to get any reaction from the teenager. "Please, kid. Don't do this. Please don't leave me."

"Tony?"

Tony turned to find Dr. Cho racing into the room. She took in the sight of him holding Peter and got to business.

"How long has he been out?" she asked.

"About ten minutes, maybe."

"Was he feeling sick earlier today?" Cho asked as she ran her knuckles over Peter’s chest.

"No. He was tired and hadn't been sleeping, but he was feeling fine." Tony cast his eyes around the darkened room. He froze at the sight of a pill bottle next to Peter's bed.

"Cho," Tony choked out. "I think...I think he took sleeping pills."

Tony heard the sharp intake of breath when Cho saw the pill bottle.

"We need to get him to the MedBay. Can you carry him?"

Without wasting any time, Tony gathered the limp boy in his arms. He was so heavy. Tony felt sick connecting the word ‘deadweight’ with Peter. Running down the corridors, Tony could feel Peter's head bounce lightly against his chest, and he prayed that he wasn't too late.

"It's gonna be okay, kid. I swear. It's gonna be okay. I got you," Tony murmured, trying to comfort the boy. Even if Peter couldn't hear him, it was doing something to help his own anxiety.

Setting Peter down gently on a gurney, Tony didn't have time to breathe before he was pushed aside.

"Suspected overdose. There's no reaction to a sternum massage. We need to perform a gastric lavage," Cho was calling out to her assistants. "Tony, you need to leave."

"No, I'm not leaving him," Tony growled.

"You're in our way. If you want him to have a chance of living, you need to let us work."

Tony's hands shook as he took a step back. Every fiber in his being wanted to hold onto Peter while he was being worked on. The logical part of him, however, knew that Cho was right. As the nurses flitted around the room, Tony was able to catch a glimpse of Peter between their bodies. It was the worst sight Tony could imagine. Nothing could have prepared him for the moment that Peter's limbs started convulsing like he was being electrocuted.

"He's seizing!"

"I need more hands over here!"

"He’s crashing!”

"Stark, get out of here!"

Tony could hardly comprehend all the screaming before being pushed out of the room by a surprisingly strong nurse. The door shut in front of him, and he knew there was a very real possibility that he would never see Peter alive again. What was he going to tell May? He was responsible for Peter, and he let this happen. It was his fault.

Thin fingers wrapped around his wrist, and he turned to see Pepper's worried face.

"Tony? F.R.I.D.A.Y. said she called May. What's going on?"

"I...he...oh God, Pep. Peter overdosed on sleeping pills. Cho is working on him now, but I don't..."

"Oh, God," Pepper whispered. She gathered Tony in her arms, his face buried in her shoulder. "He's going to be okay."

She led him to a row of chairs on the side of the room and ushered him into one. They were silent for a minute before Pepper asked, almost timidly, "did he...was it on purpose?"

Tony had been thinking about it. God, had the thought entered in his mind. He didn't want to believe it, but the truth was that he didn't know. He thought back to his interactions with Peter over the past few days. There was definitely something wrong with the kid. He hadn't been sleeping, and Tony knew May was worried. She was concerned enough to suggest Peter staying with Tony a bit longer than usual, which was a first. Peter was having problems concentrating in school. There was also something he wasn't telling Tony. What happened to make him so closed off?

"Tony?" Pepper pressed.

"I don't know." The words tasted stale in his mouth. He should have known. He should have seen the signs. He should have worked harder to protect Peter.

Now all he could do was sit and wait for news that would either comfort or break him. All he knew was that if Peter died, he wouldn't recover from it.

The first thing Peter noticed was the pressure in his abdomen and throat. He tried to swallow but stopped when the feeling of sandpaper sliding down his esophagus was too much to bear. He wondered briefly if he was getting sick. Then, he realized there was someone in his room. Peter could hear their heartbeat. No, heartbeats. There were two people.

Peter opened his eyes and noted that the ceiling was different than the one in his room. It was one he saw more often than he wanted to admit, and he groaned. He was in the MedBay. He didn't remember going out as Spider-Man. He didn't really remember much after getting ready for bed the night before.

"Hey, kid. You with us?" a voice asked to his right.

Mr. Stark was sitting in one of the chairs that were pulled next to his bed. The man had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was a mess but his tense shoulders relaxed when Peter's eyes met his.

"Mr. Stark? What happened?"

"We were hoping you could tell us."

"Us?" Peter looked to his left and felt his heart drop. May was sleeping with her head next to his hip, and her hand was wrapped around his fingers, holding him even in her unconscious state. That was when he knew something terrible happened.

"Do you remember what happened? Because I gotta tell you, kiddo. We are going to have one hell of a conversation," Mr. Stark told him. There was fear in his eyes that confused Peter.

"I...I don't remember. I remember getting ready for bed."

Mr. Stark glanced over at May's sleeping form. "Do you remember taking pills?" He asked, almost cautiously.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows a bit. He remembered picking up the sleeping pills and taking a few of them, but he didn't know why that mattered. Instead of voicing this, he nodded his head in affirmation.

Mr. Stark swallowed thickly, his eyes fixed on his hands that were clasped tightly in his lap. Peter watched as Mr. Stark struggled to put words to his thoughts. The boy had never seen him at a loss for words, so to say he was concerned was an understatement.

"Mr. Stark?" Peter whispered, his voice tinged with apprehension.

"Why did you do it, Pete? Why would you...please just explain it to me," Mr. Stark practically begged, still refusing to meet Peter's gaze.

"Do what? I don't..."

Mr. Stark's head jerked up. There was raw terror in his eyes that made Peter's heart drop. What happened?

" Why did you do it? Did you think you couldn't come to us? Is everything that May and I have been doing not enough for you? I just don't understand why you didn't think you could come to me, kid. You know I would drop everything if it meant helping you. So, I just want to know why I found you lying on your bedroom floor covered in your own vomit with an empty bottle of sleeping pills next to you. Why ?"

Peter took in the haggard appearance of his mentor and the words that were aggressively thrown at him. Mr. Stark had never talked to him like that before. Never turned his voice into the biting tone he just spoke with. Not even after the ferry incident. Peter felt heat behind his eyes and tried to blink away the tears that gathered without his permission.

Shifting of fabric to his left made Peter flick his eyes over to his aunt, who had lifted her head. She was silent, waiting for the answer to Tony's question.

"I just wanted to sleep," Peter explained through a tight throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to worry anyone. My senses have been going crazy more and more, and I just wanted to sleep. But I kept hearing them, Mr. Stark. Everyone who needed help. And I just wanted it all to stop."

May grabbed his hand tighter in hers. She tried to speak, but stopped when the sound wouldn't leave her throat.

Any color left in Mr. Stark's face drained when Peter made his explanations. "You...You mean you didn't try to..."

Peter snapped his head back in incredulity. "What? Kill myself? No, of course not. I just wanted to sleep. I knew my metabolism is super fast, and medicine doesn't really work on me, so I just took extra. I thought I would be okay."

Mr. Stark's shoulders slumped, and he let out a ragged breath. The tension seemed to melt off of him in almost palpable waves. "Okay. Okay, I can work with that."

"Did you really think I would try... that ?" Peter asked, turning to his aunt. He thought the adults in his life would know better than to believe he would choose to end his life when there were so many people left that needed his help. No matter how much his life sucked, he would never leave May by herself.

With sincerity shining through her eyes, May looked slightly apologetic. "All we had to go off of was what Tony found. I didn't want to believe it, but sweetie, we had to pump your stomach because you took so many pills. What else were we supposed to think?"

"I don't know. But I swear, it wasn't on purpose. I didn't mean for this to happen. May, you know I'd never do that to you. You have to believe me."

"We do, kiddo," Mr. Stark said softly. "But I think it's safe to say there's going to be extra protocols for F.R.I.D.A.Y. after all of this."

Peter winced. "But-"

"No. I'm not budging on this one, kid. If I ever have to walk into a room and wonder if your heart is beating again, I'm going to lose my damn mind."

May chimed in, "I, for one, fully support some extra protocols."

Peter's head slumped back into the pillow. "There's no way I'm talking you guys out of this, am I?"

"Not a chance," Aunt May said. "We almost lost you, baby." Her face dropped slightly, and it sent a spike of regret through Peter.

"I'm okay," Peter reassured her.

"I know. You know, I just worry. With all the Spider-Man stuff and now this, I just...you need to stop scaring me." She smiled a tired smile and ran the back of her hand down his cheek. "Let me go find Dr. Cho and tell her you're awake." With another tentative glance, Aunt May left Peter alone with Mr. Stark.

A heavy silence descended on the room, but he didn't want to chance breaking it. He didn't even know what to say.

"Bruce is working on a compound that should help you sleep. You know, with your metabolism, we can't be too careful. And I know you might need it sometime because you can't sleep. So, I asked Bruce, and he said he would work on something," Mr. Stark ranted. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and eyes focused on his shoes.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stark," Peter said, trying to make peace.

“I know.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Mr. Stark hummed and nodded, still not looking at Peter.

Peter felt his heart drop. "Tony."

Mr. Stark's eyes snapped up to meet his. Peter never used the man’s first name.

"I'm sorry." Even Peter could hear the desperation in his voice, but he couldn't help it.

"I know, kid. I just need you to understand how close this one was. Peter, your heart stopped," Mr. Stark's voice cracked at the end. "I need you to talk to me next time. If you need help, I need you to come to me. Especially when it comes to drugs. Why didn't you tell me you were having problems with your senses?"

Peter shrugged. "I didn't want to bother you. I thought I could handle it."

Mr. Stark sighed and leaned forward. "We’ve been over this a thousand times. I'm never too busy for you, kid. Not for anything."

Peter nodded in understanding. "Am I going to be okay?"

"Dr. Cho said that your metabolism helped with everything. If you weren't, you, the amount of pills you swallowed would have killed you. But, they pumped your stomach, which by the way, means you're on light food for the next few days. You need to stay overnight for observation, but then you can go to your room."

"Do I really have to stay the night here?" Peter complained.

"Yep," Tony said, popping the 'p'. "Then, you're gonna stay at the Tower for the week, so F.R.I.D.A.Y. can keep an eye on you. No arguments. You lost that privilege when you thought it was a good idea to have sleeping pills for a midnight snack."

Peter grimaced at the man's words, but didn't argue. He knew he messed up and that he worried everyone. It wasn't his best idea, in the long run.

Mr. Stark gazed at Peter with a thoughtful look on his face. "You know, we could work on something to help your senses. I was thinking of some small earplugs to dull the sounds and some glasses for the brightness. We can start on them on our next lab day, and before then, I can draw up some specs. We could even work on something that would adjust the levels automatically depending on your environment. You know, if that's something you want. If not, that-that's fine. I was just thinking-"

"Mr. Stark?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you, too," Peter whispered.

"Well, that's, I mean. I never said that I... you know, so I don't know where that came from. You know, you can't just spring things like that on me. I'm not good with feelings." Mr. Stark waved his hand in a manic flourish, then took a deep breath. He shifted in his seat slightly. "But, you know, if I had a kid I would love them. And you're kind of like my kid. So, you know. Take it as you will."

A smile played at the edge of Peter's lips. He knew that was a lot for Mr. Stark to say. As the man said, he wasn't good with feelings. Still, Peter could see the love Mr. Stark had for him through the things the man did for him. He saw it in the movie nights where he was allowed to pick the movie without a second thought, the way Mr. Stark was overprotective with his protocols, and the small smiles the man shot his way when he thought Peter wasn't looking.

"You're such a softie," Peter joked.

"I'll deny everything I just said if you tell anyone. I don't need that kind of reputation. I'm supposed to be a badass."

"Trust me; no one that actually knows you thinks you're a badass."

"I think I liked you better when you worshipped the ground I walked on. Maybe I can get Strange to use his magic rock to bring that back," Mr. Stark threatened.

Peter brought a hand up to his heart in mock hurt. "You wouldn't."

"Try me, insomnia boy," Mr. Stark deadpanned.

Peter knew the next few days at the Tower were going to be a mix between being coddled and having to endure sarcastic comments about reading labels and not assuming anything. There were going to be reminders about speaking up when he needed something and reassurances that he wasn't a burden. Mr. Stark was going to stay in the lab until Peter's earplugs and glasses were finished because the man would insist that it was more important than anything else. And if Peter was honest, he was actually looking forward to it.

#bad things happen bingo #overdose #MCU fanfiction #IRON DAD AND SPIDER SON #peter parker needs a hug #protective tony stark

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queen-of-the-avengers · 5 years ago

Text

If It Were Up To Me

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader, minor characters

Word Count: 961

Warnings: just fluff

Rating: G

Summary: Your daughter’s favorite thing to do pass time is be with Bucky, and who knows what might come of it.

Squared Filled: Interacting with kids // I regret nothing (B3)

Author’s Note: This is for @star-spangled-bingo and @buckybarnesbingo respectively. If you have any requests, please send them in! This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

Feedback the glue that holds my writing together

Tags at the bottom

The only person you trusted your daughter to be with was the Winter Soldier himself, Bucky Barnes. It’s not like you didn’t trust Steve or Tony to watch after your daughter, it’s just that you and Bucky connected on a much deeper level than anyone else in the tower. When you first came to the Avengers, you were pregnant and in a lot of trouble. You were next in line to be experimented on for this serum made by scientists who didn’t know what they were doing. The night before it was your turn, you found out you were pregnant.

You ran away.

You escaped.

You found a home with the Avengers.

They understood the kind of situation you were in, so they gave you a home until you had the baby. The men you were with before were angry that you left, so you knew they would be all over your ass trying to find you. Tony made it possible that they couldn’t. While in the tower, Bucky cared for you and your unborn daughter. He made sure to give you your vitamins, food, and water, and to make sure you were very comfortable. He acted like he was the father of your child, and you found yourself falling for him easily. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, but after you had your daughter, Bucky didn’t stop his care for you. In fact, he turned the notch up because your daughter was a physical being instead of being inside your womb.

From the moment she laid eyes on him, she couldn’t help but smile widely. Sure, she always wanted you, but the more Bucky spent time with her, the more she wanted him in her life. She refers to Steve and Tony as uncles, but she once called Bucky dad because of how much he inserted himself into her life. Of course, he made sure it was okay with you before he did anything like that, and you always gave him permission.

Before, it was a matter of who you wanted to watch her when you weren't able to be with her, but now that she’s old enough, it’s up to her. Every single time, she chose Bucky to be with her. Like today. It was your turn to do the grocery shopping, so you got a list from every single person living at the tower plus Tony’s credit card before leaving the house. Grocery shopping was a lot easier when there wasn’t an energetic five-year-old yelling and screaming for everything she wants. Bucky was truly a saint to watch her while you went out.

There were eleven people living in the compound right now and one of them was an artificial intelligence which meant there were ten mouths to fill. The shopping trips lasted up to three hours and you always came home with barely any space left in your car. Luckily, Wanda was able to help with her magic to bring in some of the grocery bags as well as Vision and his abilities. However, this time, it took a lot longer because the list Tony gave you was much longer since Thor and his brother were coming for the weekend, and everyone knows how much those men ate.

As soon as you pulled up at the tower five hours later, you got out with a sigh. Leaving the bags in the car, you walked inside the compound to go get Wanda and Vision when you heard your daughter’s laughter. The noise was coming from the living room, and upon peering inside, a wide smile broke out on your face. Your daughter loves to host tea parties with her tiny table and even tinier cups. Usually, she had Molly the Unicorn, Alice the Hedgehog, Eddie the T-Rex, and Teresa the Turtle as her guests, but she had one more person at the table to enjoy her sweet tea.

Bucky.

Your daughter had him dressed up in all of her princess accessories, you couldn’t help but take a few silent photos of this to tease him later. Upon his head sat a sparkly crown with big blue jewels at the top of each hump. He wore her favorite pink boa that Tony got her for her birthday last year to complete her princess look. He sported fake rings on both hands, and his metal arm was adorned with plush stickers from her collection. In his flesh hand, he held the tiniest teacup you had ever seen. Maybe it was so tiny because he was such a big man.

“Mommy! We have room for one more!” your daughter said which let Bucky know of your presence. He looked back to see your phone in your hand, and he knew you had pictures he would never live down.

“You know, I would, but I have to get the bags out of the car. Where are Wanda and Vision?”

“They are coming down the stairs,” Friday spoke from the speakers in the room.

“Thanks, Friday. Don’t mind me. I don’t want to interrupt tea time,” you snickered before leaving the room. Bucky muttered something to you daughter before catching up with you.

“Wait, Y/N.”

“Don’t worry, those pictures are safe with me. And maybe Steve,” you smirked.

“I don’t regret this at all. If it were up to me, I would dress like this every day if it makes your daughter smile and laugh,” he said truthfully. This was his own way of asking you if he could be something more to you. He didn’t outright say his feelings, but a man who loves your kid as much as you do deserves to be the man for you.

“If it were up to me, I’d like the same thing,” you smiled widely.

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eurusholmmes · 6 years ago

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whispers | t.s.

This is long overdue, but I thought since I’m working the night shift alot these next two weeks that I would try to spit out the last of the requests I have. I have alot of changes coming in 2019 - and I probably won’t be taking alot of requests anymore. New guidelines, characters I will and won’t write for... You get the picture.

Yes guys - We as writers do have the ability to turn down your request if we feel like we cannot fulfill it.

Prompt: Would you be willing to write a Tony x Reade where she is helping him with his PTSD and anxiety, and happens to be a genius in biology or some type of science. But she is a bit overweight and overhears people gossiping about her or sees a tabloid saying that Tony deserves someone better looking. She starts to withdraw due to her insecurities and Tony believes it is his fault. Fully ending where they help each other with their insecurities?

I would give my life for Tony to be happy - please enjoy this fic!

“The pain center of the brain is called the cerebral cortex, and it is the last branch of the body that processes the pain you are in. It is what informs you that something is very, very wrong.”

When you first cross the path of Tony Stark, it’s on your way home from your newly appointed position as head of the neuroscience division at Stark Industries. You had done remarkable work in the name of Stark, and that was how you earned your thirty seconds of fame. Or what would have been thirty seconds if Pepper Potts hadn’t found you in the midst of helping Tony Stark through his first real anxiety attack.

He’d come to you for updates and had collapsed in your arms.

That was when you came to know the darkness that resided inside of your boss, your confidant, your best friend, and the man you would eventually love.

“Self deprecation is toxic to the mind. It invades your thoughts, your very being... desperate to convince you that you are not good enough. That you are not worthy enough to keep living knowing what you have committed to remain alive.”

With the blood on his hands and the demons that claw at his soul, Tony doesn’t believe he’s worthy of love. His mind screams at him to run as fast as he can every time he sees you smile, because if his gaze lingers just a moment longer, he’ll fall harder then he ever has.

When Pepper left Stark Industries and Tony’s life, you were the one who was there to pick up the pieces. The only one who could see the tragedy lurking deep within those brown eyes - the stories that nobody else dared to look into. The loss of his parents. The fall of New York. The dreaded worm hole that he never dared to tell the tale of, because he relived it every time he closed his eyes.

“What do you see when you look at me, Y/N?” It’s the first time Tony has offered to take you away from the insanity of being the head of the neuroscience department, leaving it in the capable hands of your assistant for the weekend. Bora Bora, he said. How could you refuse something like that?

You casually sipped the martini poised in between your fingers, desperate to not dwell on the fact that you were at the shoreline dressed in shorts and a blouse - and Tony was in his swimsuit at your side. He didn’t need to see what laid underneath your clothes. Even you didn’t want to see it half the time.

“I see a suit of armor around a world that has been saved.”

Things flourish for a while. Your department thrives in your research which you so eagerly share with Tony. You attend parties, you meet the Avengers. It’s the best life you have lived in ages.

That is, until you hear the whispers.

When Tony asks you to be his girlfriend, part of you almost immediately wants to recoil at the thought and whisper, “No.” And it’s not his fault, it’s the fault of the media because being the girlfriend to Tony Stark means that everyones eyes are on you. The woman who lingers on his arm.

They want to know your name, your age, where your from, if your hair is natural or dyed, what your weight is - every minuscule detail of your life subject to the world. Every single person who knew about your relationship with Tony would have something to say about how you weren’t pretty enough or good enough for someone as beautiful as him.

And they were right. Tony Stark was beautiful. He was far too handsome, too out of your league, and that’s what drives your answer to his question - until you think about what kind of good you can do for him. How you can teach him to deal with his PTSD, work through his anxiety issues.. learn to accept the love he is adamant that he doesn’t deserve.

You love him. You love him despite his darkness, despite his demons.. and you love just how his eyes sparkle when he looks at you. Because it’s not lust, it’s complete and utter adoration.

“Tony?” Marching through the penthouse of the Avengers Tower, you furrow your brow in your search for the billionaire. He hadn’t shown up to the mandatory meeting this morning - which had left you to return to his home in search of him. The two of you normally met in the middle of the week for self defense class - a demand on his part for the closest person to Iron Man. “Anthony Stark! I have your favorite alcohol on hand and I’m not wearing any clothes!!”

Nothing.

You stand still in the kitchen and carefully listen for sounds of life - and that’s when you hear it, the unmistakable sound of hyperventilating. Your feet carry you faster then they ever have before and that’s how you find yourself frozen in Tony’s bedroom door, eyes locked on the shaken man that laid on the floor.

“No- It’s not my fault!” Tony cries, eyes screwed tightly shut as he rocked back and forth on his heels. You took a moment to survey the room that lay in shambles. Bedsheets askew and wrinkled, half a bottle of whiskey that looks to have been untouched for the past several hours. Crumpled suits lay thrown in a pile in the corner, and the room reeks of body odor. “Not everything is on me. Screw you-” He inhales sharply and slams his fist against the floor. “Screw your legacy!”

Warm hands ghost over his wrists, and Tonys eyes snap open to meet your concerned y/e/c only inches away from his own. And without a moments hesitation, he throws himself into your embrace and doesn’t let go.

After that, you say yes. You say yes to being the best part of Tony’s life and push any thoughts of what other people think.

“I adore you in all your utter childish behavior.” A nerf bullet flies out from behind the overturned sofa, and Natasha bursts into hysterical laughter when Tony guffaws from the bullet that has marked the center of his forehead.

“And I you in your ridiculous aim!”

He calls it an obligatory party - to show people that the Avengers are just as human as the rest of the world. A black gown with your exact measurements is already laying on your bed by the time you arrive home from work, and as Natasha helps you into the gown and finishes off your hair and makeup - you dread the whispers of the people who lurk downstairs.

“They won’t know what hit them.”

They start in the midst of your search for Tony, causing your stomach to turn and your palms to sweat when you feel their prying eyes on you.

How much does she weigh? 200 pounds?

Tony is way too sexy and so out of her league.

Where does she shop? A retail store?

Had it not been for the stunning smile of your boyfriend to keep you from falling off the edge, you were sure you would have fled to the sanctuary of your bedroom and indulged in another season of Cloak and Dagger. But you had promised Tony that you’d attend this party, and that’s exactly what you do.

He’s all smiles and winks and snapping pictures of the two of you with his phone until cleanup is over, and the two of you disappear into your bedroom for the night. And it’s over the course of the week that Tony begins to feel the guilt over something he isn’t entirely aware of, and he ponders what he could’ve done to push you away.

The smell of omelets and fresh coffee in the Tower kitchen draws him from his sleep, and Tony stumbles into the room to sate the growling noise of his stomach. It’s only when he’s half bitten into the omelet Steve made him that he sees Natasha lounging on the love seat with a tabloid poised in her hands.

He and Y/N are on the front cover.

The title of the article is in bold, Y/N Y/L/N - Is she good enough for New Yorks favorite billionaire?

“Give me that piece of trash-” Tony snarls as he snatches the magazine from Natasha and thumbs through the pages until he comes upon the article written about the two of you. Most of it is regurgitated facts he’s heard a thousand times - but there is one line that makes his blood boil with rage.

How does a man like this settle for a girl like her?

Panic takes place of his anger when he realizes that you are nowhere in sight, and you were not in bed when he woke that morning. Clint and Natasha are in the living room, Steve is mulling over the morning paper after cooking for the team, Thor was on Asgard and Bruce was in the lab. “Hey guys, has Y/N made an appearance this morning? She-” He swallows the growing lump in his throat. “She wasn’t in bed when I woke up.”

Natasha happens to be the only one with a pair of eyes that can clearly see just how much her teammate cares about you, which is what prompts her to lift her head from Clints shoulder to regard Tony. “She went to the roof at sunrise this morning. Said she needed some time to clear her head.”

And after stopping in the stairwell that leads to the roof to calm the pounding of his heart at the thought that you would leave him, Tony emerges on the roof and finds exactly the opposite of what he was expecting.

“Hey gorgeous. Glad to see you slept an entire night.” You call out, adjusting your position in the beach chair you had placed on the roof earlier that morning. After seeing Natashas tabloid sitting on the coffee table, you had taken the time to read through the article despite your niggling fear of what they had to say about you. “Wanna strip off that shirt and your pants?”

“Is that your nonchalant way of asking for sex?” He replies teasingly, grinning widely when you lower your sunglasses down your nose to peer at him. You had read that article with the intention of coming to a conclusion about being Tonys girlfriend, and you had. You didn’t care what the media said about you, what his fans thought about you.

You only cared what Tony thought about you. That was all that mattered.

“No, you stupid man. It means you take your sexy self and lay on this chair beside me so we can talk in private.” You retorted, patting the seat at your side as you produced his aviators from underneath your chair. Tony immediately scurried across the roof, taking off his clothes as he went, until he was laying beside you in nothing but his boxers with his sunglasses perched on his nose. “I was up early this morning because I had to pee-”

“Typical.”

“And I saw that tabloid sitting on the table. I know I’ve been distant this week, and it’s because I’ve been working on my research and trying to come to a conclusion on our relationship. How I feel about having the entire world looking at me every time I go outside.” A comfortable silence ensues as you press your lips together in a thin line. “And I did.”

Tony takes the half drunk bottle of whiskey you snagged from your bedroom and sips slowly. “Which is what?” You turned onto your side and lowered your sunglasses, fingertips reaching out to graze his jaw. The mischievous gleam in his eyes dissipates into a softness he only holds for you, slipping his own hand out from underneath him to rest it on top of yours.

“I don’t care what the world says. It’s you and me, that’s what matters. What matters is that you help me feel confident in my own skin, and I help you learn to sleep through the night again. What matters is that you make me feel like the most beautiful woman alive, and I make you a better man.” Tears blur your vision as Tony sits up at the waist and throws his legs over the side of the chair so he is facing you.

“I love you.”

It flows from his tongue so freely, as if he’s been waiting years to confess it. Desperate hands grip your hips to pull you effortlessly into his lap, and Tony takes the opportunity to capture your lips in his own. Sunkissed skin warms your hands as they slide up his bare chest to rest at the nape of his neck, tangling in chestnut locks as he pries himself away from you to leave open mouthed kisses on the curve of your bare shoulder.

The bottle of whiskey is long forgotten.

“I love all of you.”

#Anthony Stark #Tony Stark x Reader #Iron Man x Reader #Iron Man #The Avengers #Marvel fanfiction #Marvel oneshots #Marvel imagines #Marvel #Kayla Grace writes imagines

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thelostsmiles · 6 years ago

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If this is how I feel with having just seen him, I can’t even imagine how it’ll be meeting him one day...

This year has been a blessing. April and May have been my favorite so far. I wanted to write about Letters Live in NY this past weekend but how could I when I haven’t even written about the IW premiere? I share my moment with you now :) It’s long but it’s everything I want to say and pictures are included so if you’re up for it, enjoy x

I had already been planning to go to the Avengers Infinity War LA premiere since last year. I asked for the day off and things were looking good.

The premiere was on Monday. With so many high profile celebrities attending, I expected a big crowd. Even so, I underestimated the event. I got there on Sunday early afternoon and there were already about 40 people in front of me. I did not lose hope though. Night time came and the workers started putting up tall, black barricades along the sidewalk, the same sidewalk where we were standing waiting. Everyone around me got discouraged because it seemed we wouldn’t even be able to see them walk the red carpet (it was actually purple in representation of Thanos). I felt a little anxious about it but I was already there and I was in it for the long-haul. After a chilly night, morning came and people started putting away the camping gear they had laid out. Some women left to use public restrooms to change into nicer clothes and others left to get breakfast. I had formed an alliance with two comic book aficionados in front of me and a couple of lovely teenage girls behind me who were there to see Seb. We watched each others place in line as we took turns leaving our spot for necessities. I refused to drink and eat too much in fear that I’d miss an announcement or something of the sort. Around 11am, we saw police officers come near us and they started taking measurements up against the black gates that were in place. They didn’t give us any updates but we kept on eye on them and tried to listen to their conversation. Our biggest fear was that they would block every one and nobody would get to see a single thing. About 15 minutes later, I saw them from a distance coming back with tall and wide hedges that were to be placed next to the ends of the gates to look pretty. They were closing off everyone that wasn’t in the very front inside of this bullpen looking box. I was right next to the closing section. I did not just sleep on the cold, hard floor for nothing. I was not about to miss my opportunity of seeing Benedict for the first time. The group in front of me asked the people in front of them if they would squeeze forward to allow us to get closer behind them. Surprisingly, they did. And that’s when I somehow managed to get into the box right before the hedges went up and they closed everyone else off. It ended up being about 100-150? fans in the box. I had made it! I would be getting a wrist band guaranteeing that I would see the stars... the one star I was there for.

After a couple more hours and a few issues here and there, the time had come. I was at the very front up against the gate. I was quite happy because since I’m short, there’s no way I’d get to see anything if I was in the back with taller people in front of me. I had my special comic book open and ready. I was set.

I saw Tom Holland, Tom Hiddleston, Zoe Saldana, Mark Ruffalo, Paul Rudd, Chadwick Boseman, Dave Bautista, Anthony Russo, Stan Lee, Chris Hemsworth, Karen Gillan, Letitia Wright, Gwyneth Paltrow, and more. They were all lovely but both Toms, Mark, and Paul were by far the sweetest of all!

I was yet to see my main man. I was getting nervous. I had many thoughts rushing through my mind. What if he arrives too late and doesn’t have time to greet us? What if he does make his way over but only does one half of the crowd and then leaves? What if, what if, what if. I forced myself to stop thinking and just wait. I did. I waited.

From where I was standing I could see the main stage on the carpet in front of me to my left. (We were across the street. Think of it as them on one sidewalk and us on the other with two lanes in between us.) I kept looking over there standing on my toes as if that would help me get a better view. I saw all sorts of celebrities go up but not B.

I had my phone in my pocket because the last thing I wanted was my battery to die at the most inconvenient moment (which wouldn’t matter anyways). I remember looking down at my book admiring the autographs my nerdy self had already collected. I was trying to figure out a certain signature when my phone started buzzing. It vibrated once then twice, three times, a fourth and so on. It kept vibrating but it didn’t feel like a phone call. They were alerts. I took a quick peak at the screen as it lit up and I didn’t even have to open any of them. I already knew what it was about having read the first line, “HE’S THERE! AND WITH SOPHIE!” My heart went into tachycardia and my palms started sweating. I said a silent and genuine thank you to my friends for having my back and keeping me updated on twitter

There were other stars still coming near us to sign but I honestly do not remember who. I was busy keeping my eyes on Benedict. I didn’t want to lose sight of him until I did. Oh, no. Where had he gone?

The fun group of girls that stood behind me in line were about 5 people away next to my left. They were really tall and had a better view at the starting point. I heard one of them call out, “Alex! He’s here! He’s coming!” I wouldn’t shut up about my love for B and DS the whole time and everyone knew I was there for him. The man next to my left who was also taller than me (everyone is taller than me lol) also caught a glimpse of him and he nudged me to tell me that the Master of the Mystic Arts himself was getting closer to our side.

Oh my literal god. I kept telling myself to relax but it didn’t do much. The tears that had formed earlier found a way out and they were now rolling down my cheeks. At least I wasn’t sobbing and I most certainly did not get hysterical. I started saying his name. “Benedict! Benedict... Benedict.” He was arriving to our side and I was finally able to see him now. He got to the man next to me and he spoke to him. Upon hearing that deep, smooth voice, I could’ve fainted there and then had I let myself. It is a dream like no other. Was I breathing? Thank God it’s an automatic mechanism because I would’ve forgotten how to do it. I’m surprised I didn’t drop the book I was holding out in front of me.

Now, remember, I’m short. The lady behind me had a big poster wrapped around a piece of cardboard and she had placed that over my head and it hung in front of me covering me a bit. I was just about to shove it away from me when this angel came to my rescue. He pushed the poster aside to get a better look at me. The poster faded away and that’s when I saw him directly in front of me. I have never seen anyone so beautiful and so very handsome and gorgeous and stunning and brilliant and marvelous and all good things as he is before. This will sound cliché but oh well. It’s true. I did not know true beauty until he was standing right there inches in front of me.

I forgot how to do anything but keep my eyes open and smile. These two pics were taken by the man next to me who was kind enough to share them with me afterwards. In the second pic, you can see he’s looking my way. Maybe he noticed that mean lady behind me? It was now my turn and I was beyond happy. Something clicked in my brain and it told me to speak up. “Benedict... Benedict. Patrick Melrose. You’re going to be amazing!” He was already signing my book but he paused as if in shock that someone mentioned PM. Still holding the sharpie in one hand and the book with the other, he looked up at me and smiled. Let me take a fangirl moment here and scream because aaaaaahhhh he looked right into my own two eyes! He was wearing glasses but the California sun was peering through the shades and this allowed me to see his golden lashes flicker up and down. Still looking at me, he said the sweetest most sincere, “Thank you.” I could tell it meant a lot to him because there he was, standing with a crowd that was chanting “Ben”, “Doctor Strange” and “Stephen” the whole time (which makes sense given that it was AIW) and this shorty (me) was saying a completely different name. It caught his attention and why wouldn’t it? It is his passion project. I have been wanting to tell him all the things I feel about this project since the day we found out he was cast as the leading man. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to in these few seconds of interaction with him. I said what I thought would be enough to convey what I felt for the most part. Having now seen BN, I can safely say I was right. He finished signing his last name and in that moment I realized I was grateful he has a long name because that just means he takes a little longer with the fans :P

He proceeded to sign the others next to me. Even the pushy lady behind me because he’s kind like that. Karon tapped him to ask him something and he turned around towards his right. Bless her. This gave me extra time to admire him. After, he continued signing for the men next to my right and I still kept looking at him. He was undeniably gorgeous in that chocolate velvet suit. The moment had finally made its way into my brain and I couldn’t help myself any longer. With a few tears running down my face I said, “I love you, Benedict.” What happened next is something I never expected to experience in my entire life and, therefore, it took me by surprise. He actually heard me and replied back, “Love you too, darling.” This is the moment my soul left my body. I died a little this day. I got an “ily” and a “darling”. I don’t need anything ever again to live. This is more than enough.

He finished the section, waved and blew a kiss to everyone, said thanks and walked away. That was it. He walked back onto the carpet and into the tent and he was gone. He may have left but the memory of what I have shared with you now has stayed with me since. I cherish it more than anything I own, more than other amazing moments that have happened to me. Writing this weeks later, I have seen him two other times now but nothing compares to the first moment when you see someone who you love and admire with all your heart. I realize how fortunate I am to have this and I will never take it for granted.

#Benedict Cumberbatch #Avenger Infinity War #los angeles premiere #my story #it may not be the best you've ever read but it's mine #i will treasure this always #idk what to tag this :>#best day of my life

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onemuseleft · 7 years ago

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This is my @stevetonysecretsanta gift for @notevenwinded. Happy New Year!

****

The cab driver craned his neck a little to get a better view of the house as they drove up. “Looks like a nice place to spend the holiday,” he said. His tone was admiring. Steve supposed that a cabbie who normally worked in his neighborhood didn’t take a lot of fares to Fifth Avenue mansions. Or maybe it was just the elaborate Christmas decorations that made him sound so impressed.

“There will be some good friends to spend it with. That’s all that matters.” Steve tried to project a little confidence into his tone, but he was pretty sure he failed, significantly. “Anyway, at least I won’t have to sleep on the couch.”

“In a place like this?” the cabbie pulled to a stop in front of the house. “Bet they have an entire guest suite.”

Knowing Tony as he did, Steve half suspected it would be more like a guest wing, but he didn’t say that out loud. He grabbed his overnight bag – a battered old knapsack that had been in his room at Stark Tower when he moved in and looked to be US Army surplus – and slid out of the seat. He slammed the door and leaned down to speak to the driver through the window. “Thanks for the ride, Jamal. Cash all right?”

“You know it is,” Jamal said easily. He flashed Steve a grin, his breath fogging slightly in the cold air. “With the holiday, the damn machines don’t pay out for nearly a week anyway. Cash is instant.”

Steve had never had to deal with credit card machines when he’d been younger and poorer, but he remembered having to take a check to the bank and have it cleared before he could eat, so he understood perfectly. “What do I owe you?”

“Forty-two fifty, but there’s a veterans’ discount.”

“Tell you what, save it for the next fare who really needs it.” Steve pulled three fifty dollar bills out of his wallet and passed them through the window. “Keep the change, buddy. Merry Christmas.”

Jamal took the bills with a big grin. “Merry Christmas to you, too. Thanks man, you sure?” He deliberately fanned the bills a little, like he wanted to make sure Steve hadn’t given him the extras by mistake.

“I’m sure. Thanks for coming out in the snow.” Steve hefted his bag and returned Jamal’s wave as the cab pulled away down the drive. Then he turned to view the Mansion up close.

He’d seen it in pictures and on the news, though never in person. Avengers business tended to be dealt with out of the Tower or through SHIELD, and while Tony would host the occasional charity event at his family home, he didn’t tend to spend much time there otherwise.

In person it was bigger than he’d thought, appearing to take up most, if not all, of the block. There was a stone wall around the property, taller than Steve was, topped with wrought-iron decorative bars. There had been gates, too, though they’d been open when the cab drove up. The front yard was huge, for the city, and though there was a thin layer of snow covering everything, Steve could see bushes and trees and some kind of ceramic water fountain, though there was no water at the moment. The house itself really was a mansion, at least three stories high with tall, decorative windows and what looked like a porch or balcony running the length of the top floor. The whole house was trimmed in white Christmas lights, and the trees along the drive were light up in twinkling multi-colored lights. A single candle burned in every single window that Steve could see, too steady to be flame. On the roof, a mechanical Santa was perched on top of one of the chimneys, one arm waving to the pedestrians below. With the snow falling around it in thick flakes, it looked like something out of a movie or an advertisement.

Steve was pretty sure that back in the day he wouldn’t have even been allowed to linger on the sidewalk and admire a place like this, let alone ring the doorbell and expect to be invited inside. He felt awkward and out of place, in a very familiar way that – for once – had nothing to do with what year it was.

But living with Tony Stark over the last half year had taught him nothing if not how to adapt, so Steve slung his bag over his shoulder and pushed the doorbell.

Instead of the familiar face of Edwin Jarvis, a very pretty, very short, woman answered the door. She had her hair pulled back in a bun, and was dressed in simple shoes, slacks, and a bright red sweater with a Christmas tree on the front. The tree was decorated with sequins and pom-poms and bows and was, overall, one of the gaudiest things Steve had seen since the last time he wandered through Times Square. “Welcome to Stark Mansion, Captain Rogers. Mister Stark has been expecting you. Can I take your bag?”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, caught briefly off-guard by such a petite woman offering to carry a bag for a big guy like him.

“Come right in.” She caught him staring at the sweater and her smiled curved a little wider. “Mister Stark gave the entire staff these lovely sweaters just this morning.”

“Was he very angry with you at the time?” Steve asked. He couldn’t quite resist the urge to smile, but fortunately she didn’t seem to mind.

“I won’t tell him you said that,” she said with a wink. “It’d just hurt his feelings. My name is Lainie and I’ll be here all weekend, so if you need anything at all, just ask for me. Now, come this way and I’ll show you to your rooms.”

Plural. Steve nodded a little glumly. Just as Jamal had thought.

Steve’s rooms turned out to be a fairly modest suite made up of a small sitting area, two huge closets, what was possibly a second sitting room or might be a third, even huger closet, Steve honestly wasn’t sure, and a bathroom only half the size of Steve’s Brooklyn apartment. The bedroom itself wasn’t unreasonably extravagant, though a family of six could have lived in it easily back in Steve’s day. The decorations were simple and modern and done in rich shades of blue and cream, with watercolor landscapes on the walls in tastefully expensive frames.

There were also extra blankets folded at the foot of the bed, including an electric one, a fresh sketchpad and an unopened pack of Steve’s favorite monochrome graphite pencils on the bedside table, and instead of a digital clock with bright red or yellow numbers, there was an old analog model that had to be wound by hand and had an actual bell to wake you with. Steve lifted the cover of the sketchpad and ran a finger over the crisp, fresh paper and had to smile. Tony did plenty of big, ridiculous things for his friends but it was the little things like that always made Steve’s heart ache. The little gestures that said he’d been paying attention and wanted Steve to be comfortable. Extra blankets because Steve hated to be cold, an alarm clock that wouldn’t startle him with its electronic beeping. Steve’s favorite art supplies so he could have an excuse to distance himself from the festivities if he felt overwhelmed.

Steve wondered sometimes what kind of life he’d be living if he hadn’t met Tony and the Avengers when he did. He suspected it would be sadder and lonelier than he wanted to consider.

“Mister Stark is right across the hall,” Lainie told him from her position by the door. “Colonel Rhodes and Colonel Danvers are down the hall and Ms. Potts and Mr. Hogan will be staying in their rooms on the second floor. A maid will be in to freshen the room twice a day and she’ll collect any laundry you leave in the hamper. If you need anything else, there’s a housekeeping app on the television that we keep an eye on at all times. Midnight snacks, extra bedding, toiletries, anything at all.”

“What if I want a sweater?” Steve asked.

Lainie gave him a smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes. “Maybe if you’re very good, there will be one under the tree for you. Now I’ll let you get settled in. Mister Stark and his guests are in the game room on the first floor whenever you feel like joining them. Dinner is served promptly at seven tonight. Mister Stark asked me to let you know that we do not dress for dinner on Christmas Eve, so please make sure you’re comfortable.” She gave him a little nod and another smile and left, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

Steve unpacked quickly and checked his reflection in the bathroom mirror before heading for the massive staircase that led down to the front foyer. He hesitated at the bottom, wishing briefly for a map, then decided if Tony didn’t want him poking around he’d hardly have left him to his own devices like this. He took his time looking around, looking at the extensive holiday decorations and admiring the artwork on the walls and the pieces on display. Someone had had excellent taste, in Steve’s opinion. Pepper, maybe, or Tony’s mother. Howard hadn’t had much of an eye for art as far as Steve remembered. But then it had been a long time and he’d changed in a lot of other ways.

Everything had. Including Steve.

There was a thunderously loud explosion of noise from down the hall that faded out into a rumble, only to be drowned out by laughter and yelling. Steve recognized Colonel Rhodes’ voice alongside Tony’s and a woman’s voice that he was almost certain was Carol.

He followed the shouting to a room at the back of the house that looked like someone had put a movie theatre inside a living room. There were plush looking chairs and couches arranged around a massive screen that looked like it descended from the ceiling, walls lined with framed movie posters, and shelves with what Steve assumed were collectibles of some kind – action figures maybe? He wasn’t sure if that was the right word, and calling them toys would probably get him an indignant glower from Tony, even if they looked like it.

Pepper and Happy were cuddled up together in an armchair that could easily have held at least one more person. They were both wearing casual clothes and Pepper had kicked her shoes off so she could tuck her feet up into the cushions. They were watching Jim, who appeared to be engaged in some sort of computer game on the screen involving a stick figure and a cow that was also a stick figure, and Tony and Carol who were trying to grab the controller from him. Steve didn’t recognize it as one of the ones Clint had shown him; there was no gratuitous gunfire for one.

Tony spotted him in the doorway before he could announce himself and his eyes lit up in a way that made Steve’s stomach clench a little. “Cap!” He abandoned his efforts to annoy Jim and climbed over the back of the couch. “Hey, you made it! We weren’t sure if the snow would scare you off.”

“I managed to flag down the one cab in Brooklyn willing to risk it.” The snow hadn’t been that bad when Steve had left his apartment, but it was getting heavier. “Do I even dare ask what you’ve been up to?”

“Shenanigans,” Tony said cheerfully. He was grinning and rocking up and down slightly on the balls of his feet. He was barefoot, and his hair was tousled and his eyes were bright. He looked warm and happy and Steve had to put his hands in his pockets because the urge to reach out and touch was so strong.

“Rhodey’s sucking all the fun out of this game,” Tony said. “But Carol and I are trying to fix it for him before he dies shamefully.”

“Yes,” Jim said in a voice as dry as desert sand. “That is exactly the scenario that is happening here. Hey, Cap.”

“Colonel,” Steve said. “Merry Christmas, it’s good to see you again. And you, Carol, it’s been too long.”

Carol Danvers wiggled her fingers at him in a hello. “We were all really glad to hear you’d accepted Tony’s invitation.”

Pepper and Happy echoed the sentiments and Tony looped his hand through Steve’s arm to drag him toward the couch. Steve didn’t resist and if his stomach got a little tighter when Tony dragged him down onto the couch so their knees were touching. Well.

Jim did not die shamefully, despite Carol’s and Tony’s best attempts to distract him. Tony ended up sulking against Steve’s shoulder because Jim wouldn’t take his advice. He shivered a little and Steve – feeling a little brave and more than a little fond – wrapped an arm around his shoulders and tugged Tony against his side. Tony took the invitation and burrowed in, his head on Steve’s shoulder.

It was loud and he had no idea what was going on in the game, and every five minutes one of them would start laughing about something that had happened before he arrived. It should have made him feel out of place, but he didn’t. Everyone was talking over each other and enjoying themselves, and Carol kept insisting that Steve agreed with her every time she disagreed with Jim. Pepper was tossing mini candy canes at Tony’s head and missing more often than not, and Tony was scooping them up and pelting them back at her. Happy met Steve’s eyes over Pepper’s head and just shook his head with a grin.

Tony was warm, and his head fit perfectly on Steve’s shoulder and his hip fit perfectly under Steve’s hand. His smile was easy and comfortable when he looked at Steve. He’d asked Steve to come, asked Steve to stay.

Tony had given him a home, clothing, food and art. He’d given Steve trust, and friendship and a loyalty so deep it sometimes felt like they’d always been like this, that they’d worked together before in another time or place.

Outside it was snowing and the sky was going dark. There was a coldness in the air that promised a storm to come.

Tony threw back his head to laugh at something Pepper said and Steve felt nothing but warm.

****

Dinner was just as casual as promised. The six of them and Jarvis ate around a table in what Tony called “the little dining room”. There was a fire roaring a few feet away, and a sidebar with bottled drinks. No servants, which Steve felt a little relieved about.

Pepper and Tony were carrying on their food fight, pelting each other with bits of bread and the occasional carrot when they thought no one was watching. Jim and Happy were arguing about a sports game of some sort and Carol was talking to Jarvis about a television show they both liked.

“I am quite pleased you could join us, Captain,” Jarvis said after Carol was drawn into the discussion to emphatically argue that someone was a terrible coach and someone else was a terrible quarterback.

Steve almost hadn’t, to be honest. When Tony had extended the invitation to join him for Christmas, he’d hesitated. This was Tony’s family, and their Christmas celebration was a tradition for them. He’d been afraid of intruding and ruining their time together. “I was a little surprised to be invited, to be honest. I hope Tony didn’t feel pressured to include me.” Pity wouldn’t be the worst reason why Tony had chosen to invite him, but it certainly wasn’t what Steve hoped for either.

Jarvis scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. Sir was quite excited by the possibility that you would be part of this year’s celebrations. I will say, just between us, that if you had taken much longer to accept I was half convinced he’d do something over-the-top to convince you.”

Steve tried to imagine what that could have been and very, very firmly did not let himself imagine anything scandalous while under Jarvis’s knowling gaze. “Let’s be honest with ourselves, Jarvis, Tony doesn’t need any encouragement to go over-the-top.”

“Quite true. Still. It means alot to him that you are here celebrating with us this year.” Jarvis glanced across the table at Tony. “Ours is a small and poorly behaved family, but we hope you feel at home here.”

“I do,” Steve said. “Thank you.”

“And remember that this invitation does not expire on the New Year, Captain. I know I speak for Sir when I say you are welcome here at any time.”

Steve glanced over at Tony, who met his gaze with a grin that Steve couldn’t help but return. “That means a lot to me, especially coming from you, Jarvis.”

“Nonsense, it’s only the truth.” Jarvis rested a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for Anthony since you came into his life. He is happier than he has been in a very long time. And I confess, I do sleep a bit easier knowing that a man of your calibre is watching his back.”

“Always,” Steve said in a low voice.

“I know it. Now.” Jarvis raised his voice. “Let’s get a picture. Captain, Sir, in the center here, by the fireplace. Ms Potts, Happy - yes very nice. Everyone in a little closer now.”

Tony slipped an arm around Steve’s waist and leaned in a bit. Steve wrapped his arm around Tony’s shoulders, as the others pressed in around them.

“Lovely, you all look very charming.” Jarvis held his phone up and took several shots. “My goodness, if I didn’t know you all I’d think you were quite respectable. Do pray I never reveal the truth.”

“Literally no one would be surprised by any of it,” Tony said. “Except about Cap, they’d think you were making it up for the scandal rags. And Pepper, no one thinks anything bad about Pepper.”

“No one dares,” Jim said cheerfully. “Jarvis, send me that photo when you’re done.”

“I have done you one better, Colonel.” Jarvis finished tapping at his phone and turned it so they could see.

It was the picture of the six of them with a caption that read “Merry Christmas from our family to all of yours” posted to a Twitter account belonging to EdwinTheGreat.

“Nice handle,” Steve said.

“Thank you,” Jarvis said. “I had to veto more than two dozen of Sir’s suggestion before we struck upon the compromise.”

Steve had had to wrestle the phone away from Tony to avoid getting a Twitter account titled “CaptainWingHead” or “SexySuperSoldier” set up in his name. “I can imagine.”

“I demand dessert,” Pepper said. “Tony, if there’s no chocolate cake, I quit.”

“You always threaten to quit over dessert, I can’t take you seriously anymore,” Tony said. “Besides, Jarvis made us a trifle.”

“Is it a chocolate trifle?” Pepper asked.

“Triple chocolate, my dear,” Jarvis said.

“I take back my resignation. Tony, bring me chocolate.”

Jim nudged Steve with his shoulder. “You see what I have to put up with?”

“Yes,” Steve said dryly. “I can tell you’ve been suffering.”

“Oh dear,” Jarvis said. “I’m afraid I made a bit of a miscalculation…”

Tony plopped the trifle down in the center of the table. “It’s fine if there’s not enough, we can share.”

“No, not the dessert. The photograph. I did not intend - well it seems I may have misjudged... Oh dear.” Jarvis held out his phone again, showing the same Twitter page.

Steve scanned it quickly, not entirely sure what he was supposed to be seeing.

“How does this have almost a thousand retweets already?” Tony asked. “Holy shit, Jarvis, how many followers do you have?”

“Thirty-four,” Jarvis said. “Mostly Avengers and the occasional member of my chess club. It appears Ms. Romanoff retweeted the picture and it seem to be… well. Is “blowing up” the proper phrase to use?”

“Not when you say it so the quotation marks are audible,” Tony said. “Why is it “blowing up” anyway?”

Pepper laughed suddenly, a sputtering snicker that she quickly stifled. “Oh no. No. Tony are you reading the comments?”

“I don’t usually bother. There’s rarely anything good to be found in any internet comments section.”

“You should read these,” Pepper said. She had one hand pressed against her mouth, trying to hide a grin. “No seriously. Read them.”

Tony gave her a sideways look, which just made her grin harder, and pulled out his own phone. “Called it, best Christmas present ever, holy shit I can’t believe they did it, lots of exclamation points - why are we gay icons? Were we gay icons before this? Does having your picture taken in front of a fireplace make you a gay icon now? Quick, Jarvis, upload that old photo of Dad posing with the gun in front of the front fireplace. Maybe someone will call him a gay icon and he’ll spin right out of his grave.”

“Tony,” Steve said.

“Right, sorry.” Tony made some surreptitious motions at Jarvis that the older man soundly ignored. “Seriously, what am I missing he- I can’t believe Cap and Iron Man just came out of the closet. What. What?”

“We didn’t though?” Steve was aware that there were parts of the culture he wasn’t up to date on, but he was ninety percent positive he knew what “coming out of the closet meant” and at least seventy percent certain that he’d done no such thing.

“It’s the picture,” Jim said. “Two well-known couples posing with their arms around each other and there’s the two of you… posing with your arms around each other. I mean, if I didn’t know you weren’t dating, I might have made that assumption.”

Steve looked at the image in dismay. It did, now that Jim had put that out there, look a bit like three couples. The poses were even the same, and he and Tony were standing very close together. “Oh.” He let his eyes linger on the image of the two of them, Tony’s arm around his waist. Tony was looking at him, not the camera, and he was smiling like there wasn’t anything in the world for him outside of Steve.

It wasn’t true, of course. Just Steve seeing what he wanted to see in an otherwise meaningless image. Just like the hundreds of other people seeing what wasn’t there. Steve made himself hand the phone back to Jarvis, carefully loosening his grip on the case. He hadn’t cracked it, but it had been a close thing.

Tony looked at him, and this time his mouth was pressed into a thin line. “It’s fine, Cap. Jarvis will delete it and if we just ignore it, the whole thing will go away overnight. People have better things to do on Christmas than gossip about celebrities.”

Steve had only been in the twenty-first century for a year, but he was pretty sure Tony was wrong about that.

“It’s been retweeted by the local new stations,” Carol said. She was sitting crossed-legged in front of the fire, scrolling through her phone so fast she couldn’t possibly be reading every word. “We’re almost to five thousand retweets. Damn. How come my selfies never take off like this?”

Steve shook his head. “I think deleting it now would just be closing the barn door after the horse runs off.”

“The gay horse,” Jim said.

Tony shot him an irritated look. “It’ll be fine,” he said, so fiercely that Steve could tell he didn’t believe it himself. “It’s late, tomorrow’s a big holiday. A Kardashian will get pregnant or Brangelina will get back together and this will be old news. I promise, Cap. It’s going to turn out to be nothing.”

Steve nodded slowly, and tried not to think about what it meant that Tony was so clearly upset about this.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it either way,” Steve said. “And it’s not like this is the worst thing that they could be saying about us. Just ignore it, and if anyone asks we can set the record straight.”

“I’m going to be on the phone with public relations all day tomorrow aren’t I?” Pepper sighed. “Pass the trifle.”

****

After trifle - thick layers of chocolate custard, fudgy brownies and chocolate cream topped with chocolate chips and bits of smashed up candy canes in a dessert that would have given pre-serum Steve at least six cavities - Tony herded them all back to the game room and literally threw presents at them before flopping down on the couch with his feet in Jim’s lap.

“We agreed no presents,” Carol said. “You shit, you do this to me every year.”

“After the third year in a row it’s kind of on you,” Jim said. “Sorry, babe. I don’t make the rules.”

“Wait, so you brought presents too?”

Jim pointed to a duffel bag sitting by the fireplace. “Of course. I’m no fool. He does this every year you know.”

Carol smacked him with a pillow.

“I brought presents too,” Pepper said, bouncing up and down on the couch. “Happy, would you-?”

Steve coughed a little. “I -uh…”

“You too?” Carol said. “Come on, I thought at least Captain America would have stuck to our agreement.”

“It’s rude not to bring your host a gift,” Steve said. He didn’t quite smirk at Carol, or at least not when anyone else could see him do it. “I left them upstairs. Let me go grab my bag and we can open them together.”

“Grab the LL Bean bag sitting on our bed on your way back down, would you?” Carol asked.

Rhodey made a disbelieving sound. “Wait, you remembered?”

Carol nodded. “Of course. Every year Tony makes us promise not to exchange gifts and then every year he gives us something and every year you let me look like a jackass. This year I came prepared. With gifts for everyone but you.” She smiled sweetly and smacked him with the pillow again while Tony burst out laughing.

“I’ll be right back,” Steve said. He jogged up the stairs to the third floor and grabbed a small stack of gifts out of his bag, then detoured down the hall to Carol and Jim’s room to grab the giant LL Bean shopping bag sitting at the foot of the bed. When he reached the stairs again, Tony was waiting for him at the bottom of the staircase.

He offered Steve a quick, tight smile that didn’t entirely reach his eyes. “Hey I just wanted to check in. Are we okay?”

“Yes?” Steve shifted his grip on Carol’s bag. “I- why wouldn’t we be?”

Tony shrugged. “I saw your face when you saw those comments people were making. I know we were laughing about it, but - we’ve all had this happen to us so many times, I think we forget how violating it can be to have the press telling lies and making up stories about who we are.”

“It’s not the same,” Steve said. “This is just a misunderstanding - people are just jumping to conclusions. This is nothing like what the paparazzi do.” Steve believed firmly in a free press, but he’d never wanted to sock a reporter in the jaw more than he did when they started in on Tony.

“It’s not that different, though.” Tony didn’t quite meet Steve’s eye and he was fidgeting with his phone. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, that’s all. If I could have kept them from going after you, I would have.”

“It’s hardly slander,” Steve said. “And it’s not your fault even if it were, you didn’t post the picture.”

“No but I-” Tony stopped himself. “I just want you to have a nice Christmas,” he said finally.

“I am,” Steve said. “I’m really glad to be here. This twitter stuff is just… noise. It’s not anything that can ruin this.”

“You say that now,” Tony said, and his voice was low and tired. “But if that story gains any traction at all, the papers will start calling and the talk show hosts will start gossiping. You’ll feel differently when you can’t walk down the street without someone shouting at you or politicians condemning you for what they think you’ve been doing. It happens to everyone around me, sooner or later.”

“Tony.” Steve set the gifts down carefully and reached out to take Tony’s shoulders. For a long moment, Tony didn’t look up at him, eyes downcast, the light from the reactor making him look pale in the darkened foyer. “You’re right. They probably will say things, but anyone who feels the need to shout at me on the street for for being gay is not someone whose opinion I could ever respect. They don’t have the power to hurt me, Tony, or the power to affect our friendship.”

“It’s not the gay rumors that will be the worst,” Tony said. He finally met Steve’s gaze, mouth turned up in a cynical smirk. “Dating a whore like me though? That’ll do some really damage to your credibility.”

“Never call yourself that again,” Steve said. The words came out harder than he’d intended them to, but still too easy to match the fury Tony’s casual disdain had kindled in him. “I don’t have the slightest scrap of respect for anyone who has ever called you that, and I won’t stand for you echoing them, understand?”

Tony shook his head. “No, Steve, you don’t get it. I have a reputation and getting mixed up with that is going to taint you by association.”

“I would be damned lucky to be associated with you,” Steve said. “You’re brave, you’re smart-”

“I’m a drunk and a slut and people used my weapons to murder children.” Tony took a step back until Steve had to either hold him in place or let go. He let go, his hands falling to his sides, awkward and empty. “I saw the look on your face,” Tony said. “I know what was going through your head, all right? I know. I’m not mad, or - hell, I don’t love my reputation, I sure as hell can’t blame you for not wanting to get painted with the same brush.”

“I don’t know what you thought you saw on my face back there, but it wasn’t what you seem to think it was.”

“Don’t lie, I know what I saw. I just wish I could have stopped it from happening-”

“I wasn’t angry, Tony, would you listen to me-”

“- you have to believe me I wouldn’t have let Jarvis post it if I’d realized the trouble it would cause. I would have just - kept my fucking hands to myself or -” Tony’s voice lowered, thick with anger and self-disgust, “-or not stood there gaping at you like some kind of idiot-”

“I was disappointed!” Steve’s voice came out louder than he’d intended, sharper and it nearly echoed in the vast foyer. He bit back his next words, not entirely sure what they were going to be even as they pressed against the inside of his lips. “Tony. I wasn’t angry. I liked what I saw in that picture. I like what everyone else thinks they’re seeing. I like it when you don’t keep your hands to yourself and I like it when you smile at me like I make you happy. I want you to smile at me like that all the time. I want to stop keeping my hands to myself. I want to post that stupid picture again, but on purpose this time and I know I can’t. That’s what you saw on my face. Not anger. Just… wishful thinking.”

Tony stared at him. He had his shoulders squared and his feet were in a fighting stance that Steve had taught him, the one you take when you were supposed to brace for a blow. His hands hovered briefly in the air between them. “What?”

“We should get back,” Steve said gently. “Everyone’s waiting to open their gifts.”

“Why can’t you?” Tony asked.

“What?”

“You said-” Tony hesitated a moment, then took a step closer. “You do make me happy, you know. Just seeing you. Being near you. Knowing you’re alive in the world. I mean - look, you didn’t know me three years ago so maybe you don’t understand but you make me happy, okay?

“Tony.”

“And you don’t have to keep your hands to yourself if you don’t want to. I’m certainly terrible at it, so I could hardly judge and anyway I like it. I like when you put your arm around my shoulders and I like it when give me that condescending pat on the back when you think you’ve won an argument and I really like the way your arms feel around me when we fly into a fight. So, you can do all of that more, if you want. Or other things entirely, if you want that.”

Steve’s heart was beating faster than it should have been outside of a firefight. He hadn’t had an asthma attack since 1943 but his chest and throat felt impossible tight. “If I want-”

Tony didn’t stop long enough for him to get the rest of the sentence out. “Because I love you. I really, really love you, like in the way all those people on the internet think I love you. I think I’ve loved you from the first fucking day and I just get pulled in deeper and deeper the better I get to know you and there’s no getting out for me now. I’m just in love with you, permanently. Completely.” Tony held his hands out to his sides. “So. You can, if you want.” He sucked in a deep breath and flashed a smile that Steve had seen a million times on camera. “Or not, in case I misheard you. We can just pretend I never said any of that, in that case.”

He paused and waited, eyes fixed on Steve with an intensity that always made the hairs on the back of Steve’s neck stand on end. Steve could always feel when he had Tony’s attention, as if the sheer force of Tony’s regard was electric or - or magnetic. Now that force was aimed at him, intense, patient. Waiting for Steve to decide where they went next.

Steve had never intended to fall in love with anyone in this century. He’d left everyone and everything he’d ever loved decades behind him and he’d quietly closed the door on that want, that need. It wasn’t a conscious thought, not at first, but Steve knew there was a part of himself that had decided he couldn’t get hurt if he never took the risk of letting anyone close.

The Avengers had ended that, of course. Tony, first, and Natasha, Clint, Thor, even Hulk. There had been Jan and Hank, and now Sam. And in the next room over there was Jim and Carol, and the rest of Tony’s family who had, somewhere along the line, all become Steve’s friends and family. People to be protected and whose friendship he valued. Lifelines in the twenty-first century. Sandbags against the storm of time that Steve sometimes still felt battering at him.

He’d never, never intended to fall in love with Tony Stark. All stinging wit and sharp edges, bright lights with no substance.

But the wit could be gentled and the edges may have been sharp but Tony only wielded them in self-defense. He was bright and loud and flashy but if you took even a few minutes you could see the kindness Tony tried to hide and the generosity that he wouldn’t let you acknowledge. And beneath all of that a core as bright as the sun, determined to be better, to work harder, striving toward something instead of railing against the world.

Steve had found himself drawn to that. His first weeks out of the ice all he’d wanted to do was hit something, to scream at the unfairness of it all. He’d wanted to close his eyes and let the ice have him again rather than face a world that was cruel and cold and in some ways more alien than a completely different world would have been. But Stark had been there, so proud of what humanity had accomplished and so determined to show Steve all of it. So determined to convince Steve that there was something in the future worth living for, but never realizing that somewhere along the line he’d become the living embodiment of what he wanted Steve to love about the future.

He’d never thought about falling in love with Tony Stark, not until it was far, far too late to do anything about it. But he’d never gotten around to thinking about Tony Stark loving him back. Somehow that had never even entered the equation.

Steve remembered the way Tony had been smiling at him in the picture, the easy way Tony leaned into Steve’s side, Jarvis’s quiet insistence that Tony wanted Steve to be a part of the family gathering, and thought he really wasn’t half as smart as he’d thought he was.

Then he took a long step forward, curled one hand around the back of Tony’s neck, pressed the other against the small of his back and pulled him into a kiss.

It was soft, just a press of mouths together. Tony’s lips were softer than Steve had expected, and the bottom one a little swollen from Tony’s habit of biting at it when he was nervous. His lips parted slightly as he drew in a startled breath but Steve didn’t press for more. He brushed their mouths together, softly, and pulled back.

Tony stared up at him with eyes as bright as the reactor. He was tense beneath Steve’s hands, all coiled energy, every line and angle of his body waiting for the right moment to move. “Steve?”

“I want,” Steve said. He let himself smile a little and when Tony’s mouth curved into a matching grin, Steve couldn’t resist the urge to lean down and kiss it again. “I have wanted for as long as I’ve known you, Tony. Known the real you. You didn’t make it easy, but it was worth it every stubborn, irritating step of the way.”

“I’m getting mixed messages,” Tony said, but he was smiling still. He lifted his hands and set them carefully on Steve’s waist, almost as if he was waiting for Steve to object. “Can I-?”

“Yes,” Steve said.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Doesn’t matter. I want anything you have to give me. Anything you want to say to me, anything you want to do to me.” Steve realized how that was going to sound a second before the words left his mouth but he didn’t bother editing himself. It was true anyway.

“Why, Captain.” Tony tried for a leer but failed when his voice broke on the final vowel. His eyes were too bright, and he pulled back abruptly to scrub at them roughly. “”Are you sure?” he asked suddenly. “You know what I’m like. There are so many people who love you, you could-”

“It’s very flattering that people care about me,” Steve said. “Or find me attractive at least, but I think you’re projecting a little. Outside of our team very few people actually know me. And it doesn’t matter, because you’re the only person I want to love me back.”

“I do,” Tony said thickly. “I’m not - you shouldn’t want me to, but I do.”

They could have this conversation for hours - would, at some point, need to. But it was nearing midnight on Christmas Eve and the one thing Steve had never thought he’d have was within arm’s reach.

He wrapped his arms around Tony’s waist and kissed him again. And again. Tony held him back, hands gripping Steve’s waist so tightly it was like he expected a supervillain to pull Steve away any moment. He pressed in even closer, the reactor pressed against Steve’s shirt, the light going dark between them, his heartbeat pounding against Steve’s chest. He kissed Steve like he thought he’d never get to do it again.

He tasted like candy canes.

“I love you,” Steve said softly. He pressed the words against Tony’s mouth, willed him to take them in, to swallow them down and keep them.

“Awwwww,” Carol said from somewhere in the vicinity of their knees.

They both jumped and nearly bashed their skulls together. “Carol, what the hell?” Tony demanded.

She was crouched on her toes and had one hand stretched out toward the pile of gifts Steve had abandoned earlier. “Look, you went up stairs like, an hour ago and I want presents!”

Jim’s voice came from the opposite side of the staircase. “Tony wants his present too, that’s the problem.” He gave them both a stern look and shook his head. “Tones. You couldn’t wait to unwrap him for a couple more hours, huh?”

“I hate you,” Tony said. “All of you, get out of my house.”

“I have a key,” Jim said. “Anyway, Jarvis wouldn’t let you kick us out on Christmas.” He scooped up Steve’s little stack of gifts and followed Carol back to the game room. “Come on, lovebirds. Have your drama later. My girl has the right idea.”

“Your what now?” Carol asked sweetly.

“My woman,” Jim called back. “My brilliant, badass woman who got me a present even if she says she didn’t.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

Steve took Tony’s hand and tugged him along toward the game room. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s not keep your family waiting. Besides, I want to give you your present. And I want to see the look on Rhodey’s face when he realizes Carol really didn’t buy him anything.”

Tony licked his lips. “How do you know - “

“There are five pairs of LL Bean slippers in that bag and nothing else.” Steve grinned. “I peeked.”

“I love it when you’re naughty.” Tony tucked himself against Steve’s side. “This is - I didn’t expect this when I came out here but… this is good, right? We’re okay?”

“We’re going to be great,” Steve said.

****

The second picture got even more notes than the first and made it to the front page of CNN by breakfast. Posted to Tony’s public twitter right on the stroke of midnight, it was just Steve and Tony, sitting in a heap of torn and wadded up wrapping paper. Steve had nearly a dozen sticky bows stuck to his shirt. Tony had been aggressively decorated with tinsel and ribbons and there were what looked like a dozen candy canes hooked onto the collar of his shirt. Tony was straddling Steve’s lap, his forehead pressed to Steve’s. They were both smiling.

The caption read “Thank you, Santa.”

#stevetonysecretsanta #stevetony #stony #notevenwinded #superhusbands #my fic #nightwalker writes

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lair-of-books · 6 years ago

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This Month’s Wrap-Up comes to you very late & that’s honestly more because I’ve been going back & forth with the idea of eliminating my wrap-ups as a whole. I’ve been easing my way back in from a huge blogging slump and content has been on my mind a whole lot lately. Whelp! this is up mid June which means I decided to keep them but there will be some changes. I’ve been here for 2 years now and found that I really enjoy getting to know the bloggers behind the posts. I love reading a good wrap-up that gives me the 411 on the highlights some of my favorite bloggers experienced throughout the month. The bloggers who talk about the books they read, movies & tv watched, foods cooked/restaurants visited (extra lurking when baking is thrown in), travel, and anything really that gives me a better sense of the person behind the blog.

So I guess this means I’ll be sharing a little more of me on the blog on my Wrap-ups for now. This isn’t as easy as it sounds since I don’t really enjoy talking about me lol but sometimes breaking out of your comfort zones can be a good thing? this is what I’m going with haha! I’ve also been bitten by the travel bug which means future travel posts may be a thing as well. I hope you enjoy getting to know the bit of me that I do share here, especially since there are quite a few new bloggers subscribed. I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you so *exhale* onto this Wrap-up…

Bruja Born (Brooklyn Brujas #2) (5 STARS) This sequel was EVERYTHING! finished it last week & it’s still on my mind. If by any chance you enjoyed Labyrinth Lost but it possibly didn’t blow you away…this is the sequel to do just that for you! not to mention the epic world expansion. Currently eyeing Zoraida’s Twitter for any kernel of news on book 3 smh 🙂

Airports, Exes, and Other Things I’m Over (4 STARS) Cute & fluffy were just what I needed when I picked this one up and it did its thing haha!

MIRAGE (5 STARS) (Review to come next week)

Picture Us In The Light (5 STARS) I was very happy to have been invited to participate in the blog tour for this poignant read! this is one that has something for everyone and leaves you with a little hope but not before breaking your heart 😉

Nyxia: Unleashed (5 STARS) the author of this book Scott Reintgen is fully aware of how badly I want that last book in this trilogy, I hide nothing about my love for these books! honestly, if you’re looking for an AMAZING YA Sci-Fi look no further! the diversity is strong, the action intense, plot full of twists, female characters empowered & respected…I can go on & on but only ask that you pick this one up and see for yourselves cause it is SOOOO worth it!

CORRUPT (Devil’s Night #1) (4 STARS) I don’t really review NA on this blog but I think going forward I will leave some thoughts on Goodreads (link at the end of this post). I was recommended this book by my wonderful friend Melanie from Meltotheany & I’m now a full fledged Penelope Douglas fan! I will read anything she writes grocery list included bahhha! jk…not really smh. This is a very dark NA & there are a ton of trigger warnings Melanie lists on her review here. I will say this, if you’re looking for full fledged smut…this may not be the author for you lol. Douglas enjoys making her MC’s torture each other with epic long waiting/mind games but when it gets going it is A+ my friends! 😉

The month of May let me squeeze in two flicks at the theater & those were Avengers: Infinity War & Deadpool 2.

Infinity War did NOT disappoint & it was a fun time watching all of my favorites come together for this AMAZING movie! perhaps most surprising of all was the complexity & depth of the villain Thanos. I wasn’t expecting to enjoy his story line so much but I did & it made me really appreciate how that took the story to the next level. Of course there was some heartbreak along the way with some losses but I’m still very excited to see the next chapter cause THAT ending *raises eyebrow* haha!

Not quite the 5 stars in my book & that came as a surprise cause I am a HUGE fan of Ryan Reynolds. The first Deadpool was effortlessly funny in my opinion but this one was laying it on to thick which made it seem to me as if they were trying to hard to keep up his rep for baddest mouth in the Marvel Universe. However, the second half was epic for many spoilery reasons so I’ll leave that out. I will say that I enjoyed the addition of Zazie Beetz as Domino and Josh Brolin as Cable (pictured above). Also, THAT ending threw me for a whirlwind but then again I should’ve expected that from the MCU 🙂

May was such a hectic month & reading 6 books was a feat cause my mind was in a million different places as was I hehe. Some of you may already know this, I am a mom of 2 tiny humans ages 4 & 7 and so that meant celebrating Mother’s Day was in the plans. I had this amazing breakfast cooked up my sister & hubby and some awesome gifts from said tiny humans and hubby. Had a wonderful dinner at this Japanese Steak place in Brooklyn called SALT + CHARCOAL. Their steak was AMAZING but I only ended up with a photo of their “green tea” cake which wasn’t my favorite at all but they put some effort into the presentation so…

I also came home to a package from hubby with the entire Mother’s Day LUSH collection which smells amazing & had some kick ass super hero bombs in it! I’m a scent LOVER & these all were the PERFECT gift that keeps on giving cause HELLO! ME TIME! baths + books = BEST LIFE!

The last week of May saw us take a road trip to Virginia to spend the holiday weekend with some family. Although I didn’t get to take pics cause we were having so much fun in the moment we all ditched our phones smh. I really do wish I had taken some photos of our bowling competition and trip to a sea side restaurant in the rain that was….interesting haha! I did however get a photo of my new haircut the day before we hit the road so I’ll just leave that down here…#shorthairdontcare

I’d like to say that the madness stopped in May but the very next weekend we got back from VA, there was BEA & Bookcon…

We are 6 days away from the first day of Summer & already life feels both lighter and busier all at the same time <3’s! I hope you’re all having an amazing month reading, watching, doing all of the lovely things! ❤

FOLLOW LAIR OF BOOKS ON…

Instagram: @LairOfBooks

Twitter: @LairOfBooks

Goodreads: LairOfBook

May Wrap-Up This Month's Wrap-Up comes to you very late & that's honestly more because I've been going back & forth with the idea of eliminating my wrap-ups as a whole.

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my-emotional-self · 7 years ago

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Let Me Protect You Part 2 Chapter 12

Pairings: Chris Evans x OFC Emilia

Warnings: swearing?, feelings of worthlessness

Word Count: 1.5k+

Summary: Now that Chris and Emilia have established their relationship, she moves into his house after her brother decides to live in New York. Emilia is in bliss, thinking maybe her life will finally be at peace. But are things always that easy in Emilia’s life?

It was exciting being at a Wizard World; almost everyone was dressed up as their favorite characters. It was amazing to see how much work and detail went into these costumes; yet here you were, walking around in a plain t-shirt and jeans.

You ambled around the crowd for hours, looking at all the things to buy as you proudly wore you VIP pass. Before long, you noticed some girls start staring at you; pointing at you very obviously. Your face started becoming red from embarrassment, thinking maybe you didn’t scrub your tear streaked face enough that morning.

Your heart rate skipped a beat as you tried to hold your head up and kept walking straight. The soft murmurs started to become louder as you realized more and more people were starting to look at you. Panic slowly started to creep up on you as you sped up your walking.

“Hey” a young woman stopped in front of you, making you pause your steps. “Are you dating Chris Evans?” she asked, her eyes wide as she stared at you.

You froze, not knowing what to say or do. You and Chris never really discussed about going public with your relationship and now was definitely not the time for you to speak about it.

“Ummm…I….excuse me” you stammered out as you stepped around her, quickly picking up your pace.

You found the bathrooms and you made your escape, shutting the stall door behind you and latching it shut. Leaning your head up against the door, you let out a sigh of relief; happy to be away from prying eyes. “Get a grip Emilia” you said under your breath.

Lately, you felt as if the world was out to get you; ever since that article of you and Chris surfaced. Those hurtful comments were always on your mind and you were starting to believe them. You believed you weren’t good enough for Chris that he could do so much better.

Needing your breathing to regain to normal, you thought of happier times; times with Chris and you when things were peaceful. After what felt like eternity, you emerged from the stall and washed your hands before returning to the floor.

You noticed a sign stating that the Avengers Panel would begin soon so you walked in through the door.

“VIP passes can go straight to the front row” the security guard stated as he saw your pass. You gave him a polite smile as you made your way to the front of the audience, taking a seat dead center.

It wasn’t long before the announcing came onstage, the crowd cheering as he began to speak.

“Are you guys ready for an amazing panel!!!????” he roared into the microphone as the audience cheered and hollered. Your face lit up in a smile as you clapped along.

“Well lets not delay any further. We have Sebastian Stan, Jeremy Renner, Anthony Mackie, and Chris Evans!”

The crowd was on their feet, including yourself as you clapped your hands and whistled as the men came on the stage. All your worries and troubles seemed to escape your body as you saw you handsome boyfriend cross the stage, taking a seat right next to Sebastian on the couch.

The announcer talked with the guys for a while about the newest Captain America movie; your eyes never leaving Chris’ body as he talked animatedly about the film. You loved how enthralled and excited he got when he talked about the movie; knowing damn well how proud he was of them.

“Alright, lets take some fan questions now” the announcer said and you turned your head, seeing a line of people gathering at the microphone in the middle of the aisle.

Chris had yet to see you and you weren’t surprise; he had no idea if you had come down to the con today. You were hoping at some point he would notice you but you didn’t want to make it obvious.

“Does everyone get along on the set?” an audience member asked shyly.

“Listen” Sebastian started to say, “I’m being serious when I say this. We are all family on set. We’re together for months at a time and it’s really great.”

One by one, audience members asks questions as the guys answered; Mackie cracking jokes the entire time; which it felt like a relief to laugh again.

“My question is for Chris” a voice said loud and clearly through the microphone and you tilted your head to see. She was beautiful; tall and blonde with legs for miles. You were jealous instantly from the sight of her as you looked down. From the time you met Chris, you had gained a few pounds; not a ton, but enough to make you feel self-conscious even though he continued to call you beautiful every single day. “Are you dating someone?” Your eyes widened at her question, unaware of how to react; unaware of how Chris would react to it.

Turning to face him, you could see his face tint with pink as his leg bounced up and down. He held the microphone close to his lips as he spoke. “Umm, no comment” he said with a laugh, hoping to ease the tension in the crowd.

There was a lot of whining in the crowd as they wanted a definitive answer from him.

“Oh come on Chris!”

“We’ve seen the pictures!”

“Just tell us!”

These people were relentless and you were starting to get uncomfortable. Your eyes never left Chris and you knew he still didn’t see you in the front of the crowd.

Luckily, Mackie eased the tension. “Oh come on guys! Let the guy have some privacy” he joked with a quick punch to Chris’ arm and it looked like Chris was able to relax at his friends’ words.

“You deserve better than the girl in the pictures!” someone called from the back of the audience and your heart panged at their words. You covered your face with your hair; making sure to keep your eyes on Chris. He seemed to get even more fidgety and you knew his anxiety was kicking in. You wanted nothing more than to run up on stage and comfort him; but at the same time, you were starting to believe what the person had said. Did he truly deserve better than you? You felt like you gave him nothing but a hard time; your fucked up tilt-a-whirl emotions was making him navigate when he should be relaxing, destressing from his movie roles.

Thankfully the panel didn’t last much longer and he didn’t have to answer too many more questions as the rest of the guys stepped in for him. As the guys on stage got up from their spots on the couch, Chris finally caught eye contact with you; his eyes immediately widening as he realized you were in the audience the entire time.

He gave you a small smile before he was ushered off the stage; everyone in the audience being roused from their seats as you stood up with them. You made your way slowly out of the auditorium with the crowd as your eyes scanned the main floor. Not sure what else to do, you made your way back up to the hotel room.

It wasn’t long after when you received a text from Chris.

Chris: Hey, where’d you go?

Emilia: Back to the hotel room

Chris: Why don’t you come back down and join us for lunch

You pondered his idea for a minute, but soon decided against it. With a soft sigh, you replied back.

Emilia: That’s ok. You have some fun with the boys.

Chris: Beautiful, please come down here.

Your vision became blurry as tears started to form at your eyes. You wanted to make him happy, to come down there and be with him and his friends; put on a happy and brave face. But you couldn’t. You were exhausted; you were so tired from faking the smile, you just didn’t have it in you.

Emilia: Chris, it’s alright. I promise. You enjoy your time. I love you

Chris: I love you too beautiful

Sitting down on the bed, your mind wandered to the words of that audience member; the comments of what people said when they saw pictures of you and Chris out and about. Scanning the room, you saw your suitcase sitting on the floor. It was time you stopped fucking things up. It was time you put a stop to your antics.

Getting to your feet, you started to pile your clothes into your bag with haste. Once completed, you took out a piece of paper and wrote a note to Chris.

Chris,

I’m really sorry for coming unannounced. I didn’t mean to put any added stress onto your weekend. Please forgive me. I didn’t want to do this over a text and make you more stressed and worried. I’m heading back home, so you can have your boys’ weekend here. I love you.

Emilia

Gripping your suitcase in your hand, you wiped the last tear that fell from your eyes as you walked out the door and towards the lobby.

Luckily, Uber’s lined the street because of the Con and you climbed into one and headed straight for the airport.

Tag List: @iamwarrenspeace @ssweet-empowerment @princess-evans-addict @patzammit @tacohead13 @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @miss-cap21 @missfirstavenger @thedoctorscamanion @captainamerica-ce @pumbibaby @remember-that-one-blog @wildestdreamsrps @littlemissacorn @kanupps06 @zohoffman @-fuck-you-world- @geeksareunique @libbitinasdeath

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x ofc #chris evans series #chris evans angst #chris evans fluff #chris evans story #chris evans smut

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tabloidtoc · 4 years ago

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National Enquirer, October 5

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Cops in the Crosshairs

Page 2: Fears for the health of Ryan Seacrest as Keeping Up with the Kardashians which is his cash cow is being put out to pasture -- Ryan is pulling his hair out about the potential loss of revenue and racking his brain trying to come up with something that can replace it

Page 3: Ellen DeGeneres is in a panic fearing she may lose her daytime TV show and wife Portia de Rossi in the wake of the scandal that’s tarnished her once pristine reputation as the Queen of Nice -- Ellen is in the deepest funk of her life as most of her high-powered Hollywood pals have been ghosting her and she is convinced there may be no coming back from this -- what’s more Ellen is concerned additional bad news may drive away her wife Portia

Page 4: Kelly Clarkson has vowed to remain silent about the nightmare behind her divorce from Brandon Blackstock to protect her kids -- Kelly is known for oversharing but she’s keeping her lips zipped about Brandon because she never wants her children to know how bad things really were with their dad

Page 5: Cardi B’s divorce filing from Offset described her marriage as irretrievably broken -- Cardi accused Offset of cheating in 2018 five months after the birth of their daughter Kulture and Offset seemed to own up to his infidelities on Instagram -- following the massive success of WAP Cardi finally listened to pals who have been telling her to toss the cheater but she wants the break to be amicable and will accept a joint custody arrangement for Kulture

Page 6: Kanye West is crowing he personally engineered the downfall of Keeping Up with the Kardashians and that he’s the one calling the shots in his marriage to Kim Kardashian from now on -- Kanye hated the show and his constant negativity wore Kim down and killed it for her too and without her it couldn’t possibly go on -- Kanye believes Kim’s appearance on the show was at the heart of all their problems and now that she’s out of there he’s got every hope they can fix things

Page 7: Endless renovations at their Los Angeles mansion have left George and Amal Clooney at each other’s throats and the feuding twosome are on the brink of a $500 million divorce -- the construction work which has soared over budget to more than $1 million has confined them to close quarters with their twins Ella and Alexander and they’re constantly bumping heads, love-hungry Katie Holmes is heading for a showdown with new boyfriend Emilio Vitolo Jr.’s scorned ex Rachel Emmons who was blindsided by Emilio and now she’s demanding answers from both him and Katie -- Katie knew Emilio was engaged to the designer but launched a steamy fling with him anyway and Rachel is not finished with Emilio or Katie by a long shot

Page 8: Hollywood Hookups -- Ray J and Princess Love split again, Kaia Gerber and Jacob Elordi dating, Cassie Randolph gets a restraining order from Colton Underwood

Page 9: Queen Elizabeth snubbed Tom Cruise’s request for a private chat and it’s got the snobby superstar’s nose out of joint -- the Scientology poster boy got the bright idea to drop in on the British royal while filming the latest Mission: Impossible movies using London as a base because he is a huge royal fan but so far no one from the palace has responded and Tom’s ego is hurt because almost no one refuses the opportunity to meet with Tom and no isn’t a word he’s used to hearing and being ignored happens even less -- Her majesty would barely know who Tom Cruise is and he’d be just another American pipsqueak to her and Hollywood is not exactly her favorite place at the moment

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Kristen Taekman of The Real Housewives of New York City in California, Riley Keough at the beach in Malibu, Frances McDormand offered the Vulcan salute before the L.A. screening of her film Nomadland, Jennifer Lopez at a lunch date in NYC, Bruce Willis out and about in Brentwood

Page 11: A skin cancer scare has friends of sun-worshipping Caitlyn Jenner worried she’s playing Russian roulette with her health -- Caitlyn recently revealed a doctor took all the skin off her nose and reattached it to patch up a skin cancer scar -- she’s been treated for skin cancers on her cheek and nose but she’s a self-confessed tanning freak and can often be seen playing golf under the blazing California sun, Sofia Richie is getting revenge on ex Scott Disick by flirting up a storm with Will Smith’s son Jaden Smith and a string of other studs -- her phone was ringing off the hook with hot guys wanting a date and now that Sofia’s finally got Scott out of her hair she plans to show him what he’s missing

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Gavin Rossdale plays tennis (picture), Kelly Ripa is fuming over Drew Barrymore’s new talk show and it’s been made clear to A-listers if they appear on Drew’s show they will not be welcomed back to talk with Kelly and Ryan Seacrest any time soon and the competition between talk shows to book big-name celebrity guests has never been more intense, there’s a new stud in town at ABC and it’s got World News Tonight anchor David Muir’s knickers in a twist because weekend anchor Tom Llamas is horning in on David’s spotlight, Britney Spears and her little sister Jamie Lynn Spears are looking for a home together because Jamie Lynn has accepted that she’ll need to help look after Britney for the rest of her life and Britney can afford to buy a house with separate wings so they’ll each have their privacy but Jamie Lynn can keep an eye on Britney

Page 13: In the latest sex scandal to hit the Fox News network senior legal analyst and former New Jersey judge Andrew Napolitano is battling back against allegations he sexually abused a New Jersey man in the 1980s, frail Ryan O’Neal reconciled with daughter Tatum O’Neal after 17 years but he’s a long way off from doing the same with son Redmond O’Neal -- ailing Ryan has distanced himself from his only child with the late Farrah Fawcett since Redmond was arrested and charged with attempted murder and assault with a deadly weapon and brandishing a knife and battery in 2018 -- Ryan sees Redmond’s troubles and demons as his alone to conquer and may even cut Redmond out of his will

Page 14: Crime

Page 15: Reality show train-wrecks Kate and Jon Gosselin have renewed their toxic battle as the bickering exes engage in an ugly war of words over child abuse charges

Page 16: Goodfellas movie gangster Ray Liotta has taken his whirlwind romance with brunette stunner Jacy Nittolo to the next level by tying the knot -- his new bride’s father was a real-life killer Stewart Woodman who was found guilty in 1990 of the execution-style slaying of his parents, Zac Efron’s summer lovin’ with an Aussie waitress seems to have already hit a sour note -- Zac has been living the high life Down Under with Vanessa Valladares since he hit up her boss for her number two months ago but by early September the pair were caught on camera in an outdoor cafe reportedly locked in a heated argument about their future -- this has been a fun fling for Zac but the reality is he has to head back to the U.S. and attend to his career while Vanessa is just a kid and her whole life is in Australia

Page 17: Denise Richards is ditching The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills in a desperate bid to save her marriage -- the endless rehash of former co-star Brandi Glanville’s allegations they shared a same-sex fling despite Denise’s denials has pushed her relationship with alt-medicine guru Aaron Phypers onto life support

Page 18: American Life -- I was trapped in wildfire hell

Page 19: Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood plan to tell their story in a no-holds-barred documentary -- the country duo hopes to mimic the success of Walk the Line which was a biopic about Johnny Cash and June Carter’s fiery romance and they’ve been talking to producers and writers -- they’ll also discuss their weight battles and food binges and how they got back in shape with clips of Garth working out and Trisha whipping up some of her healthier meals

Page 20: America’s colleges infested by spies -- enemy nations using top schools to steal vital secrets and recruit moles

Page 22: They Stayed After Partners Strayed -- cheating scandals that couldn’t tear star couples apart -- Jay-Z and Beyonce, David Letterman and Regina Lasko, Woody Harrelson and Laura Louie

Page 23: Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne, Jada Pinkett Smith and Will Smith, Kevin Hart and Eniko Parrish

Page 26: Jaime King is locked in a vicious war with estranged husband Kyle Newman who has accused her of being a chronic drug addict and alcoholic and cleaning out their bank accounts -- Kyle also claims Jaime was abusing drugs during her two pregnancies and that their son Leo was born addicted to opiates -- Kyle said he makes $750 a month now as a writer and claimed he had to give up his directing career to look after their family and after their unsuccessful settlement talks in June he claimed Jaime went to Canada to film her show Black Summer leaving the boys with him for four months without support or any funds

Page 27: Hoops phenom Maya Moore recently revealed she married Jonathan Irons the man she put her high-flying sports career on hold for as she helped free him from prison following his wrongful conviction more than 20 years ago -- Maya considered one of the greatest WNBA players ever ditched the league in 2019 to focus on social justice issues and secure Jonathan’s release -- Jonathan now 40 was only 16 when he was slapped with a 50-year sentence for burglary and assault in Missouri

Page 28: Cover Story -- Cops in the crosshairs

Page 32: Acting legend Diana Rigg’s dying regret was that she never took advantage of the steamy chemistry she shared with Avengers co-star Patrick Macnee -- their sexual tension drove the series and young Diana always wanted to make it a reality but Patrick was married to Katherine Woodville at the time

Page 34: Health Watch

Page 36: Film femme fatale Sharon Stone is 62 but griped that folks are still angling to get an eyeful of her rack -- she compared her situation to Marilyn Monroe’s where she did movies that mattered but she still couldn’t get completely out of being that thing, Duane “Dog” Chapman claimed his late wife Beth haunted him after he found new love with fiancee Francie Frane

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Robert Pattinson

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Laurence Leboeuf and Kenny Wong on Transplant

Page 47: Odd List

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parkerparlour · 7 years ago

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Murder House - Peter Parker

Summary: You convince Peter to follow you to an abandoned haunted house, but really he's only going to make sure you're safe. Also, he's absolutely terrified.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Mild swearing, mentions of old-time murder (not graphic), and ghosts.

A/N: Spooky times, getting in the spirits! I planned for Peter and the crew to be later in their senior year so either late 17 or 18 years old, as that would the age I think parents would be more okay with kids randomly taking trips??

It's a cold, fall Saturday, and somehow you convinced Peter over the week to drive you up to an old, supposedly haunted building you heard about online. He said no at least six times, three of those in rapid succession ("No, no, no, Y/N, that's too dangerous!"), but your puppy eyes do him in every single time, so really he has nobody to blame but himself. He's starting to really regret this decision.

Peter stares straight up at the large, old building, eyes wide and mouth agape. He looks scared shitless and it almost makes you laugh, comparing in your head the little trip you planned to his usual life.

"You're telling me you're scared of some ghosts? You fight villains practically every day, Peter."

"Yes. And villains do physical damage that can be healed. This could psychologically mess me up, Y/N."

Peter's hand is tight in yours, his fear radiating off of him in waves. You almost feel a little bad, you didn't know how he'd react before and he seemed fine on the ride up here.

"I mean, it's not a big deal," you say, gesturing to the giant old building. "A couple people were murdered in here like 150 years ago. What's the worst that can happen?"

You said the question rhetorically, but Peter actually answers, "Uh, death. A hobo. Trauma. Mostly death."

You shake your head, pushing the creaky door open and stepping inside. The air is musty and old, clearly nobody has been in here in a while. You start navigating around the house, knowing the floor plans from studying them online via the forums you found this story on.

"This is such a bad idea," Peter whispers, the vibe of the entire building making him get an adrenaline rush he's never felt before, even when working with the Avengers. This is a whole new type of fear for him, and he does not like it.

You reach the bedroom where the murders happened and want to take pictures. "Peter, honey, I kinda need my hand back so I can take pics. Or else this isn't worth it."

Peter curses under his breath, "Fuck, fine, okay," dropping your hand. His hand immediately settles on your back, always making sure he's touching you as you wander around. He wants to be able to grab you and run if need be, heck, he'd bust through a wall if any sign of danger arose. Just pick you up and sprint away from whatever, whoever, is in this house.

Everything goes fine, you tell him where to point the flashlight, you take pictures, and move on to the next thing that's interesting to you. Peter is just starting to think that this isn't actually that bad, you're just in a weird old house with some creepy backstory, it's all gonna be just fine. He's hyper-focused on his breathing, making sure the breaths are slow and even instead of panicked and short.

Suddenly, as you're taking a photo, your camera shuts off. It won't power back on no matter what you do. "Huh. Strange," you pause, holding the camera out so Peter can see the black screen, "My camera stopped working. I think the battery went dead."

"Wasn't it just full like ten minutes ago?" Peter asks, heart rate kicking into high gear again. He doesn’t like this, his palm starting to get sweaty, slick with fear, where it rests on the small of your back.

Suddenly his flashlight turns off and drenches you both in darkness. "P-Peter?" You ask, suddenly very, very scared.

"I'm trying. It won't turn on. You memorized the house layout, right? Can you get us to the hallway where the windows are?" Peter's voice sounds calm but in reality he is everything but. His hand is shaking as his thumb tries to flick the flashlight on and off, but nothing is working. He even gives it a few good shakes and he can hear the still-energy-filled, heavy batteries clank around.

You grip Peter's other hand tightly, inching yourself towards where you remember the door being. Your veins feel like they've been shot through with ice and your heart is in your stomach. Swinging the door open, the hall is considerably more well-lit than the bedroom, moonlight and the streetlights streaming in through the large window.

You turn towards Peter, and something feels off.

"Now... I don't want to alarm you, but did you whisper something to me while we were finding the door?" Peter asks, face incredibly pale. He already knows the answer.

"N-no. I didn't. What did it say?"

"Help me," Peter says, tone low and laced with concern. He knows it wasn't your voice. It couldn't have been. It was a man's, far too deep to compare to yours.

"Oh... my..." you trail off, eyes glued to the nearly pitch black entryway of the room. You swear you see something moving and your throat tightens.

"Let's get the hell out of here," he says, eyes wild with fear and you know yours are the same.

"Agreed."

You both all but sprint out of the house, only finally catching your breaths once you're in the car, doors locked, safe.

"Why did we come at night?" You ask, pulling the camera's cord over your head so it doesn't dangle from your neck anymore. Peter huffs as he turns the key in the ignition, starting the car with a low rumble.

"Don't look at me, literally all of this was your idea." Peter's hands crank the temperature dials way up, trying to warm the car as fast as possible with how cold he feels right now after that ordeal.

"I know," your smile isn't quite real, still shaky but trying to make light of the situation.

Your camera powers on all by itself and you look at it in confusion, pulling up the photos. You gasp, making Peter lean over to see.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Look. This is the photo I got just before it turned off."

The silhouette of a man can be seen. He's coming towards the camera, one hand out and covering a good portion of the photo, but his eyes and hair are clearly distinguishable. It's no doubt the husband that was murdered there, perfectly replicated based on the antique pictures you've seen of the man.

"Wow," Peter says, staring at the tiny screen displaying the picture, "that's actually kind of incredible? Not the whole fearing-our-lives-and-running-away thing but this picture is neat." He gently pulls the camera from your hands, "It's like history being relived. You can see he's sitting in that chair, it must have been his."

You roll your eyes at how the photography nerd side of Peter decided to come out, compared to just a mere two minutes ago you both were about to pee your pants from fear. But you like how he's dissecting the photograph, making educated guesses as to what was going on.

"If I had to guess, I'd say he was probably fine with you photographing the rest of the room, just not his favorite chair. But I don't know, I could be wrong... What else is known about this house?" Peter asks, handing the camera back to you as he gets ready to drive away.

As he gets the car back into the street and starts on the way home, you relay the things you've heard. "Well, you're right about the chair. There's actually more than one picture online of that chair, but none as clear as the one we just took. And none of them are as close as this one. It's fascinating." You power the camera off, gently setting it in your bag that sits by your feet. "There isn't much to tell about the couple that lived there except for the fact that their lives were taken far too young. They were only just married for a couple years, the lady was 23 and the man 25. No kids, but good jobs and a bright future. It's more of a sad story, actually, now that I think about it."

Peter's eyebrows furrow and you watch his expressions from the side, as he keeps his gaze locked on the road. "That's really sad, yeah. Only 23 and 25? That's so young." He bites on his lower lip, contemplating just how brutal it really was.

"We should definitely show this to Ned," you say, almost giddy at the idea of retelling the story to him. He wanted to come, but got super busy this weekend with family, so he had you two swear oaths to tell him every minute detail as soon as you got back. Or, as soon as you saw him again.

Peter drops you off at home, pressing a kiss to your lips and murmuring a soft, “I’m glad we didn’t die tonight,” which makes you chuckle. You head inside, the clock reads only 11PM but it’s been pitch black out for hours. With a yawn you decide it’s time to head to bed, the excitement for the night having passed.

The rest of the weekend passes normally, with you and Peter having the usual Sunday meet up to study and chill together to finish the homework you put off for the trip. There's no mention of what happened the previous day - you have suspicions that Peter actually might try to repress the memory after Ned hears the story, not that you'd blame him because now that you've "ghost hunted" once, you probably won't do it again.

Monday, Ned immediately finds the two of you at the lockers, demanding the play-by-play.

"Dude, what happened? Did you spot a ghost? Or even two?" His hands grip Peter's upper arms, practically shaking the other boy with how excited he is.

Peter grimaces at the memory of the house, "Honestly, I'd rather let Y/N tell the story since it was all her idea anyway."

The bell rings and Ned points a finger at you, "I expect a full report during lunch, Y/L/N, don't skimp on the juicy details."

You laugh at how he used your last name before going your separate ways, Ned to Algebra and you and Peter to Biology. The morning passes quickly and soon enough lunch rolls around. As you and Peter make your way through the lunch line, you both can see Ned bouncing in his seat over where he's sat near Michelle.

As you sit to eat, Ned barely lets you actually eat since he keeps asking questions during the telling of the story. You manage to finally nibble on your sandwich as Peter takes over for a bit, telling his part where he heard the voice.

"Dude, you heard a voice? That's awesome!"

Peter chuckles, shaking his head, "No, not awesome, try more like absolutely terrifying!"

"Oh! I also got a picture, here," you pull the photo up on your phone, having transferred it after getting home that night. Ned's eyes bug out and Michelle gets interested, leaning over to peek over his shoulder.

"That… is freakishly awesome," Michelle says, eyes looking all over the image almost as if trying to dissect it in her mind.

"This is crazy, you got such a good picture! I've never seen one this good from that location!" Ned says, knowing this because as soon as you told him about the story on Friday he looked up as many forums as he could.

You and Ned spend the rest of the lunch period gushing over other spooky stories you've heard of, with Michelle chiming in sometimes. Peter just watches how your eyes light up, how excited this topic makes you, and decides he'd be willing to take you to other places if you wanted. Not that you want to go to the houses anymore - at this point, you've pretty much decided to be a passive lover of ghosts, just looking at stories. But the stories still fascinate you.

Peter reaches out, grabbing one of the two hands you were gesturing excitedly with, and holds it down on the table, just enjoying listening to you. You end up dropping both your hands, holding his one in both of yours, as you keep talking with Ned. Peter’s thumb runs over your fingers and he's almost in a trance, just listening without really comprehending.

Suddenly Ned pipes up, "I found another house we could go check out, if you want."

You hesitate, "I mean… this last time was really freaky? I'm not sure-"

"I'll drive," Peter cuts in, making you look at him in shock.

You furrow your brows, "I thought you were done with ghost hunting? Like I kinda was?"

He shrugs, "I mean, it's not like we died." You shake your head with a chuckle, remembering Peter’s words from before he went into the house.

Ned claps his hands together, "Then it's a deal, we'll go up during our next break. It's a bit of a further trip, we might have to spend the night at a hotel..."

Michelle pips in too, "I'd like to come. This seems pretty cool, for being also super weird."

Peter grins, "Group field trip!" His hands squeeze yours and you’re grateful he’s coming along - honestly, you’re not sure how you would have gotten through the trip if he wasn’t with you.

The next couple weeks until break are spent excitedly planning, booking a couple hotel rooms, and getting more and more hype with each day. You just sit in wonder at how you found such great friends that they're willing to go along on such weird adventures.

You picked a good bunch.

#peter parker #peter x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #spider-man #spiderman #spider man imagine #rach writes #**

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