#tony stark original character

[darsynia]

Until My Steps Return | Tony Stark/OC oneshot

Summary: Tony Stark and his girlfriend Leigh Balci make up for the three days he was away on a business trip. Explicit sex, minors DNI

Length: 5,655

Notes: Set in a soulmate AU where Tony's first word to Leigh, 'Tony,' is written on her right wrist. Leigh has waist-length blonde hair. Established relationship.

Tags: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @themaradaniels @starksbf @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne @munstysmind

Excerpt:

“I tell you what, can you go into the bedroom and grab my robe? Not the one that looks like you can see through it if you squint hard enough. I would like to be decent for the elevator ride."

“I think I missed a step?” He’s stalled out on the racetrack, too horny to remember the steps to fixing a flooded engine.

She tosses her hair back and pulls it onto a shoulder, squeezing the towel against it. Her brown eyes are loving and amused. “You want me in the penthouse, right?”

“I want you everywhere.” He grins. “But, yes.”

“Well, until you invent a teleporter, I will need to be clothed for that particular trip, Tony.”

“Two robes, coming up.”

Until My Steps Return

Tony Stark wishes he was the kind of man who has a doctor on retainer, one who will prescribe whatever the heck you want, just because you’re rich. He’s that kind of rich, but he was never that kind of an addict. He’s addicted to pleasure of all kinds, he can admit it. Tony spent years chasing variety, and the truth is, he doesn’t really regret that. Now, though? Now he has variety in constancy, and he likes it so much better.

Now, he has Leigh. His soulmate.

Except, not right now. Because he’s on an airplane, and even though it’s a fast one, it’ll still be another six hours of flight time, combined with another hour of nonsense before he can come home to his tower. He won’t even come directly home to his girlfriend, not really, because she hasn’t moved into his penthouse yet, despite the fact that he’d actually begged her to, the day he’d left for this business trip. Begged. Him! Outside some very specific sexual scenarios, Tony Stark simply does not beg. But he’s in love, and so is she, so he feels comfortable to push boundaries.

The annoying part is, it’s his plane, and it has a bed. If he had a sleeping pill available, if he could skip the rest of this flight by sleeping through it, Tony absolutely would. He’s still going to try, but it’s not a guarantee, and he doesn’t want to drink to do it. The last thing he wants is to come home to Leigh with a hangover. They’re due to get in right after dinner, and he wants… well. Thinking about that right now would not be conducive to sleeping. If he heads to that bed in this aircraft, given its history? That’ll be what he spends his time thinking about. He’d rather do those things with her instead, in a few hours, instead of by himself, without her.

Tony sighs, pulling the travel pillow out from under his head and hugging it to his chest petulantly. He can fly. He has the power of the internet at his fingertips with an AI smart enough to cut through the busywork bullshit. He has enough money to obtain pretty much anything he wants, whenever he wants it. But he can’t make time move any faster, and that’s just some kind of bullshit.

Tony: The fact that the Concorde is no longer a thing is absolutely not okay

Leigh: I miss you too, three days is too long.

Leigh: You should sleep, the flight will go faster.

Tony: Yeah, I know. I keep thinking about what I want to do when I get home, and it’s keeping me awake

Tony: I could tell you if you like. Then you could tell me what you’d do in response

Leigh: Oh I don’t think so.

Leigh: You should have thought about this exact scenario before you told me that you have FRIDAY read out your texts when your hands are busy, hmm?

Tony: fuck.

Leigh: Patience, patience.

She’s not in the penthouse when he gets in, which is probably not surprising. Tony puts his things down and frowns down at his wrinkly suit. He should take a shower, but there’s a nonzero chance of doing that with Leigh, and he’d never turn that down. He hops into the elevator and heads down to her floor. When he rings at the door, there’s no answer, but five seconds after hitting the button, the door opens. He feels a surge of affection for her. She must have asked FRIDAY to code it to let him in. The sound of the shower is loud when he gets inside, and there's a tantalizing hint of her spicy shampoo. He finds out shortly that this is because she’s left the bathroom door open.

Tony undoes his tie and leans in the doorway. “You know you have full access to the penthouse?” he says, by way of greeting her. 

Leigh’s rinsing suds out of her hair, which apparently means freeing the shower head to handheld mode and lifting chunks of her wet hair with one hand while going over it with the spray. The motion shakes her breasts enticingly, not that he has the greatest view through the mostly fogged over glass of her small shower.

“I don’t know how to make the shower head strong enough for my needs,” she says.

“Well!” Tony says, laughing. “I can’t help but notice there aren’t any towels in here.”

“I was counting on your plane to come in on time,” she says, her voice rich with amusement. “I’m more than a little grateful that worked out.”

“What’s in it for me?”

The water shuts off, and he can see Leigh move close to the fogged-up door of the shower. Instead of opening it, though, she pushes up against it with her chest. Her nipples pebble up from the cold as soon as they touch the glass, despite the heat of her shower, the rest of her body merely a shadow in the background. She keeps going until her breasts are spread out, literally on display for him.

“You can get me so sweaty and gross I’ll need a second shower,” she says. Her voice is throaty, with just a hint of vocal fry.

“Towels, coming right up.”

Her laugh chases him out into the hallway where the linen closet is. Tony is already so turned on from her visual display that his pants are getting uncomfortably tight, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He comes back with four towels and a sense of determination. Because she is a complete adorable tease, Leigh takes the first towel and wraps it around herself, tucking it in so the edges overlap in the front, but barely by much.

“Easy access?” he asks.

“First things first,” she says, leaning over and taking towel number two. “The receptionist at work bought me one of those super absorbent hair towel turban things in our Secret Santa exchange the first year I worked there. I was really tempted to take a picture of just how little of my hair fits in one of those.”

The bathroom in her apartment is a fraction of the size of his. Leigh’s faced away, basically standing right beside him, and the rhythmic movement of her arms squeezing the water from her hair as she’s bent over is affecting him a lot. The strong clean scent of her spicy shampoo fills the room, enhancing his desire for her. Leigh does a little wiggle as she rubs the towel against her neck. The towel she had wrapped around her body falls off.

“Oops.”

Tony pulls her up against him. Her body is damp and warm, and he groans to feel her heat after missing her for so many days and nights. He kisses her shoulder, hearing her hum in approval, and Tony slides his hand up from her stomach to the underside of her breast, straightening her spine so he can access the back of her neck.

“As much as I love where this is heading, the end result right now is a face full of wet hair for me,” she reminds him.

“Hair dryer?”

She gasps in affronted horror, and pulls away.

“No hair dryer,” Tony says, dutifully.

“Better,” she laughs. “I tell you what, can you go into the bedroom and grab my robe? Not the one that looks like you can see through it if you squint hard enough. You can take that up with us, but I would like to be decent for the elevator ride."

“I think I missed a step?” He’s stalled out on the racetrack, too horny to remember the steps to fixing a flooded engine.

She tosses her hair back and pulls it onto a shoulder, squeezing the towel against it. Her brown eyes are loving and amused. “You want me in the penthouse, right?”

“I want you everywhere.” He grins. “But, yes.”

“Well, until you invent a teleporter, I will need to be clothed for that particular trip, Tony.”

“Two robes, coming up.”

He takes time in her bedroom to adjust the press of his boxer briefs on his erection. Tony has a suspicion that Leigh timed this deliberately, setting obstacles (sexy, fun ones, at that) between him and what he wants to do with her. He is completely certain she wouldn’t admit it if he asked, though.

He finds the robe she doesn’t want to wear in the elevator and completely understands why. It’s white, made of a soft, see-through material covered in lacy vine patterns in a golden yellow color. The only part of it that’s in any way opaque is a three inch thick ribbon belt that wouldn’t cover anything pertinent anyway. He loves it. Tony grabs the lavender fluffy robe she has hanging in her closet, too.

When he gets back into the bathroom, her hair looks much more dry, and the towel wrapped around her body is back.

“This is my new favorite thing,” Tony says, holding up the filmy robe. He drapes it around his neck like a scarf. It barely weighs anything. “And here’s your ticket to barely decent-ville,” he tells her, waving the purple robe.

“Thanks. My hands are full, though. Can you--” Leigh says. She’s toweling off the top of her head and comes over, pushing her chest out where the towel around her torso is precariously tucked in between the valley of her breasts.

“This is a concerted effort to kill me,” Tony declares, but he reaches for the towel. Then, he snatches his hand back. Tipping his head to the side, he examines the structural integrity of the tuck, leaning over and closing his lips around the small glimpse of towel hem sticking up between her breasts. Mostly, he’s kissing her, but he tugs just a bit, and the towel collapses under its own weight.

He’s beyond caring how obvious he is, now, banding an arm around her waist and bending his head to paint his tongue across her damp, delicious skin, lower and lower until he nuzzles her nipple with his nose.

“Tony,” Leigh says, her voice urgent.

“Mm hmm,” he murmurs, curling his tongue around her nipple, loving the way she catches her breath and clings to him, her towel and still-damp hair forgotten. Tony walks her back against the doorframe so he can slide his hand around and thumb at her other nipple, pressing his knee between her legs in a vain attempt to support her.

Suddenly, Leigh hisses, and he pulls back. “What?”

“Hinge,” she says ruefully. With both hands apologetically pressed to his chest, she sucks a kiss to his lips and steps away.

“I put it there vindictively. So you’ll move in with me,” he says.

“Yes, this hinge stamped with--” Leigh leans over and pretends to read out, “‘Hinge-City, purveyors of fine pain inducements to move since 2010 when this tower was built and you hadn't met me yet.’ Wow!” she grins at him. “You were right.”

“Put on the robe, Miss Balci,” Tony says.

She trails a hand along his neck where the revealing robe is resting, then bends down to pick up the purple one.

“Head up, I’ll be there soon,” Tony says, gritting his teeth. He should just drag her over to her bed and take her, but she’s being tempting on purpose, trying to entice him with the ability to have sex with her in two separate places. Really, he wants her up in the penthouse with him all the time, and he will not be dissuaded.

“What?” she asks, fastening the tie around her waist, her hair in disarray, brown eyes dark with how much she wants him.

“I am synched to a completely fucked up time zone, I just spent however long on an airplane, and I want to wake up in my own bed next to you after however much time we spend catching up. I do not , and don’t you dare ever quote me on this, want to have sex in the elevator.”

Leigh laughs, and he even finds that sexy, Tony realizes. “Okay. See you soon.”

She walks out of her apartment barefoot. He almost chases her and reneges, but his back won’t thank him, and he never was the kind to have a Dr. Feelgood to fall back on, there.

Besides, the two of them have a great track record when it comes to her waiting for him to show up, horny as all hell.

Tony doesn’t see Leigh when he steps out of the elevator into the living room of the penthouse. This is actually encouraging, because he wants her to feel more at home in his space. He doesn’t see her in the bedroom either, though, so he checks in his large bathroom to find it empty as well. Only when he walks out of there does he see her, leaning up against the wall waiting for him. Leigh’s got one foot flat on the wall, separating the sides of her robe. She sways that leg, giving him a shadowed glimpse of what lies underneath it.

Tony had never understood the lure of sirens until he met her. He’s hers with gratitude, no reservations, no matter what might tear him apart in the future because of it. He doesn’t even care that he’s a sailor shipwrecked on her shores, as long as he gets to know what that tastes like.

“I thought about this moment all day,” he tells her. “Come here.”

Leigh smiles and pushes off from the wall, but when she is close enough for him to reach for her, she pauses and shakes her head at him.

“Let me undress you?” she asks. Leigh’s a little nervous, he can see, but he fucking loves when she’s shy but brave like this. It always, always works out well for them.

Because he’s a recalcitrant asshole who wants her to manhandle him, Tony adopts a sardonic expression and slides both hands into his pockets before nodding. The little determined twist of her lips in response makes him ache to touch her.

Leigh steps close, choosing not to take on the challenge of removing his suit coat while his hands are in his pockets. She instead slides her hands up from his chest to the small buttons that hold his collar to the shirt, undoing them. She’s distracted enough by this that Tony sneaks his hand out of his pocket and grabs one free end of the bow keeping her robe closed. Leigh’s standing so near that he can just slip his hand back into his pocket with it. The next time she moves far enough away, the whole thing will come undone. He wonders if he’ll come undone first.

Tony knows he’s been horny too long without relief when he gets impish like this, but that’s the thing. Leigh knows that about him too, by now. She seems to be counting on it, which makes him want her even more. They’re recursive, and he loves it.

Leigh sweeps his collar up, pulling off his tie and dropping it on the floor. Then she starts working on his buttons.

“This does not involve enough kissing,” Tony observes.

Leigh is a little minx. Her response is to kiss the space on his chest that is revealed with each subsequent unbuttoned section of shirt, instead of his lips. By the time she’s done, he has forgotten about trying to troll her with his hands in his pockets, and he’s reaching for her, sliding his hand into the glorious mass of her hair and pulling her close. The tie for her robe comes close to unraveling, but he’s past caring about that at the moment.

Tony nips at her, pressing his thumb against her full bottom lip and tracing it with his tongue, teasing her just as she’s teasing and denying him. The thing about Leigh is, though: she’s generous and giving, so when it becomes clear to her that he’s holding back as a result of her holding back while undressing him, she yields, pushing against him, tangling her tongue with his. Leigh burrows close, worming her hands underneath his suit coat and pushing it down his arms even though Tony’s hands are busy opening her up for his kisses.

“Cross-purposes, here,” he murmurs.

“Is it though?” she says, pulling back long enough to strip his arms of both coat sleeve and shirt sleeve. Leigh grabs both ends of the flimsy robe he’s still got draped like a scarf around his neck, and starts backing up. The movement slowly loosens the rest of the tie to her fluffy robe, and it gives up the ghost right as she reaches the edge of his bed and sits down.

“Leigh,” Tony groans. The picture she presents, mostly naked and looking up at him, her hands at his belt, is setting him on fire.

“But I’m not done,” she says innocently, working to loosen the belt, flicking it open and tugging his button out of its buttonhole. He can see her tight, pebbled nipples peeking against the fabric of the robe.

“Swap me?” he asks in a hushed voice. Tony’s tired as fuck, but if she doesn’t want to trade places, he’ll hold himself up with sheer force of will if he has to. He’s a moth to her flame, desperate to singe himself on her heat, heedless of the danger of being consumed.

“Okay,” she agrees easily. Tony helps her stand, if only because he gets the chance to shove her robe off of one shoulder so he can kiss it. Leigh draws down his zipper and pushes his slacks down, and he steps out of them. Tony slides off the boxers himself, sits so he doesn’t crassly kick them under the bed or something, but Leigh dips down to a half kneel at his feet and pulls them away from his feet.

She is always surprising him, Tony thinks, because that’s not something he would expect her to do, not in a moment like this, but it’s also economical, necessary, it brings her right where they both want her to be.

“I want to swap,” she says, and he’s momentarily confused until she takes off her robe and tosses it at the foot of the bed, pulling on the one around his neck.

“Fuck, okay,” he says. He had figured she’d hang the thing up in his closet and wear it another day, but no, she’s pulling it on but leaving it hanging open. Her curves are lush and inviting, warm and his, and he’s grateful, besotted, hungry.

“I want to try something,” Leigh whispers. She puts a hand on either of his knees and spreads them apart, settling her hair on her right shoulder and leaning up against his body, kissing him. Tony’s drugged by sensation; he can feel the strands of her hair dragging across his chest, can smell her arousal, taste her sweetness. Leigh moves her right hand from his knee right to his cock, gentle but firm, and he groans into the kiss. She tips her head to the side, tickling him with her hair as she strokes him.

“Look,” she whispers. Tony looks down and bucks his hips into her hand. He can read his name clearly on the same wrist she’s jacking him with, and her hair is framing the motion. It’s as sensual an image of how he feels about this particular woman as Tony could possibly imagine.

That’s when she slides down his body and takes him in her mouth for the first time.

“Leigh, fuck, yes, ahhhhh,” he groans out.

She pulls off and moves her hand on him. With her other hand, she drapes her hair on his left leg. “Pull it. Yank it, do whatever. I like that, especially now,” she tells him in a husky voice.

He’s literally speechless. All Tony can do is look down at Leigh and watch her swirl her tongue on the head of his cock before taking him in her mouth again, sucking on the way down. She’s systematically destroying him. He grabs the locks she’d offered, twining it around his wrist once, and, trusting her, Tony sinks his fingers into her hairline and holds on.

She moans against him. Tony gives up all sense of restraint and starts rocking his hips, knowing he’ll have to stop her soon. He’s never going to stop being amazed at their alchemy, the way that loving her has turned the rougher parts of him into gold, and likewise the fragile parts of her into steel. Leigh backs off when he thrusts up too deep just once, recovering quickly, kissing along his shaft as she clears her throat a few times. When she starts to take him in again, Tony pulls hard on her hair, and she chuckles against him, sucking just the tip before spelling out obscene messages with her tongue.

“Okay, I need--” Tony says, shaking his hands free of her hair and pulling at the fabric of her robe, trying to get her to climb up.

“Yes, okay, yes,” she soothes. Tony isn’t gentle as he hauls her up his body, spearing his tongue into her mouth, fighting her robe to get his hands on her body underneath it, desperate. 

“You’re rewriting my DNA,” he accuses. “I was never this determined to mark someone as mine before.” 

“I’ve never been so willing to be marked,” she admits, gasping and holding still. Tony’s sucking a kiss onto her shoulder, and he grazes his teeth along her skin there right as he finally gets his hand between her legs. She’s wet and warm, yes, but what he loves is how fucking responsive she is. Everywhere he touches her, she’s always gasping, arching, shaking, as if she’s physically incapable of hiding his effect on her.

Suddenly, he needs to know how that would translate to tasting her. Tony turns them, laying her on the bed and looking down to see Leigh splayed out for him. Her hair is everywhere, right hand stretched out to cling to the sheets in the way he fucking loves, like she can’t not grip something when she’s in the throes of desire for him. The robe is gapping like the best wrapping paper ever, and best of all, when Tony starts to run a hand from her stomach down, she closes her eyes and arches her hips toward him.

Tony decides he likes the implications of her not being able to see him right now. He reaches up and rests her left forearm over her eyes, kissing it and kissing her lips, pressing, making known what he wants without words.

Leigh nods, her chest heaving in anticipation. Tony can’t resist kissing one of her nipples on his way back down, but he avoids using his tongue, because she’s perceptive, and she’ll guess. 

“I want to watch the way your hips move,” he tells her, hands warm on her thighs. “You’re so beautiful.”

“I feel like a complete wreck, and I’ll turn into a hellcat if you don’t touch me,” she promises, her voice sounding rough. Tony has to clamp down on his own desires for a quick minute at the thought that maybe her throat is just the tiniest bit sore from his presence there.

He’s got both his hands on her legs, spreading them apart before resting his palm on her stomach. Leigh whines and juts her hips up.

“Please,” she begs. “Missed you.”

Tony had wanted to surprise her with his mouth but his hands have a life of their own, seeking out her folds like she’s her own force of gravity. He strokes her, kissing her knee, kissing her thigh.

“Tony…” her tone is whining, uncertain.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks, his lips a hair’s breadth away from the thin skin right beside the mass of honey gold pubic hair.

“I’ve just never--”

Objectively Tony knows he should not find it so arousing that he’ll be the first to do this. She has every right to share her body with whomever she chooses, and if none of her previous relationships were with men who had any idea what they were doing, that’s not his business. But he likes this chance to show her what she’s been missing.

“Allow me to catch you up on all the years of severe neglect you’ve been experiencing,” Tony says in a low, sardonic tone. Her thighs clench together, shoulders shrugging up, her whole body responding just to his voice. Fuck, this is going to be amazing, he thinks to himself. “You trust me?” he says, selfishly wanting to hear her voice, excited about how throaty and desperate he’s sure it’ll be.

He’d somehow forgotten what she’s actually like in those three days he’s been gone.

“Give me my phone, I’m calling backup, you’re clearly only here to tease me,” Leigh says, rolling over and nearly kneeing him in the face in the process. She crawls up the bed, her hand reaching out for her cell phone on the nightstand.

Tony grabs her ankle and yanks, shifting his body up onto the bed as he locks that leg over his shoulder. He reaches up and flattens her onto her back with one well placed hand, gentling the movement once she’s in position. With his thumbs millimeters away from her sex, Tony uses both hands to spread her legs, holding her open for him in the process.

Her whole body is trembling now. When he looks up, she’s got the fleshy part of her palm between her teeth, moaning softly around it.

Tony bends his first finger and draws his knuckle up, along her wetness. She groans. He follows the movement with his tongue, pressing his hand at her hips in anticipation of their movement. Tony’s always liked this taste, has done it enough to know that it subtly differs with different foods. He presses closer and swirls his tongue around her clit without actually touching it yet, loving the hitched, shocked noises Leigh’s making. The muscles of her thigh under his hand are rock solid, she’s so tense and focused on what he’s doing.

Leigh’s heel is digging into his upper back so hard he hopes he gets a bruise there. That’s much more intimate than a hickey.

She’s rocking her hips ever so slightly with every movement of his tongue, and Tony gives in to his desire to feel that from the inside. He slides two fingers inside her, groaning a hum with his lips against her clit as she clenches down hard on him.

“Honey,” he murmurs, lifting his head to look up at her. Her chin is up, head arched back, but as he watches, she looks at him, eyes heavy-lidded and dark. Tony grins, hoping she can see the slick of her on his lips. Sometimes she’s embarrassed by the intimacy of such things, and he wants to ruin that instinct with as much joy and openness as he can. He’s an asshole that way. This is one of those times. “You had something with honey, at dinner.” He twists his fingers in just the right way as he says it.

“Tony,” she gasps. “There’s no way you-- Oh my God,” she whimpers, reaching up and pulling one of the pillows onto her face and holding it there.

He notices, though, that she doesn’t close herself off from him as much as she might have. She trusts him. Tony can’t stop the way he rocks his own hips along the edge of the bed to ease some of his tension at the thought.

“I can,” he assures her. “Want to try?”

He angles his head down and takes an obscenely large swipe across her entire sex with his tongue. He lifts himself up as if coming to kiss her, and now she curls her body up defensively.

“Maybe? No. Oh my GOD, I’m a fallen woman, what the actual fuck are you even doing to me right now,” Leigh groans into the pillow.

“It’s my personal mission to debauch you,” he says. “But not to make you uncomfortable.”

Leigh drops the pillow and looks at him with doubt painted across her features.

“Much,” he allows. His hand drifts back down to stroke her again.

“Yesssss Right there-- Tony,” she groans.

“Going to come for me?” he asks, sliding up to lay beside her on his side, hand still moving just the way she likes.

“Mmmm hmmm,” she draws out.

He slides his head closer so he can whisper in her ear. “Speaking of debauching you, I pictured myself doing this on the airplane. Except we were on a commercial flight, and you’d lost a bet with me.”

“Not realistic,” she says, eyes still pinched closed, hips rocking against his hand. He loves her focus, especially because it comes and goes in stages. Soon comes the stage where she’s delirious and gasping.

“The flight, or the bet?”

Leigh chuckles lowly. Tony speeds his movement, and she laughs again.

“Who is manipulating whom, here?” he whispers.

“Toss-up,” she manages through bitten lips. “Almossssst--”

“On the plane, I brought you right up to the edge,” Tony murmurs.

Leigh moans, and he sits up so he can use a second hand.

“Fuck, ok yes, that, whatever you want, just keep-- ahhhhhh!”

“Then I told you to come for me. Loudly. And you did.” Tony says, pushing some command into his voice. “Do it. For me, come for me, right now.”

She does, her whole body freezing in an arched posture one second and then releasing in a shudder of clenched gasps and moans the next. It goes on for longer than any she’s had with him yet, and he pulls his hands away to climb on top of her and thrust in, chasing the last of her clenching convulsions.

“Ohhhhh,” she breathes, sliding her legs up to bracket him.

“Too much?” Tony asks, hoping like hell she won’t say yes.

“Always,” she says, twining her arms around his neck so she can kiss him. Her every action spells out that ‘always’ is an answer that doesn’t mean he has to stop. “That shouldn’t work, you know,” she says when he moves from kissing her lips to kissing along her jaw and onto her neck.

“Mmm?”

“Ordering me to come,” she whispers in his ear, like it’s too shameful to say out loud in a room full of the sounds of their bodies moving together. Tony loves her contradictions, sometimes.

He hopes she loves his eccentricities, too, because he can’t help but goad her. “Wait till I can get you to do it over the phone, the next time I have to go on another trip.”

“I won’t have to wait,” she murmurs, altering the angle of her hips so she can press on his ass with her heels. “I could just call you during a meeting. You wear those in-ear things to get insider information from FRIDAY during those, don’t you?”

Tony quickens his pace, needing to feel her shake underneath him again. It’s like a craving, he’s noticed, and satisfying it is fun as hell.

“You’re suggesting you’d call me and talk me up in the middle of a meeting? I’m dubious,” Tony goads her.

She slides a hand down his stomach to where they’re joined. Tony can tell the instant she touches herself in the way that she likes, because she clenches down on him in pleasure. “Do you know where my hand is, Mr. Stark?” she whispers in his ear.

The speed at which his orgasm is approaching has just hit Mach 3.

“Look at me,” he commands, pressing his forehead to hers.

She does, but then she says something unexpected.

“Come for me. Right now. Do it,” she says, undulating her body under his, squeezing, holding eye contact.

His orgasm slams into him from all sides, it seems, flooding him with pleasure as he slams his hips into hers and holds there, groaning. Tony can’t keep her gaze, he buries his head onto the bed beside her shoulder, breathing in the sweet, spicy scent of her hair. This is what he’s always wanted, he realizes, groaning, delighted, wrecked, pleased.

“Fuck,” he remarks, a full minute later when he’s able to form words again. “Call it a truce?”

“I think we both won,” Leigh says, snuggling into his side. “Knowing you well enough to be able to sense when you’re about to-- well. That’s its own kind of victory.” She ducks her head against his chest, as if hiding her blush. “That’s a really powerful kind of intimacy.”

“The best kind,” he says. “There are more of those,” he whispers into her hair.

“More of what?” Leigh tips her head back to meet his eyes.

“Intimate ways of knowing.”

“You mean how I know you’re about to make a comparison between what I said and some ridiculous made-up thing, like when I’ll learn to have a cheeseburger ready for you the second you are done working in the lab for an indeterminate amount of time?” she asks, giving him a penetrating look.

He was about to say something exactly like that, so he twists his lips petulantly. “Yes.”

“Don’t worry. Someday soon you’ll know when I hold those back, and you can feel loved by that experience, too.”

He already does.

Leigh and Tony's story is told in the story Exile All the Longer, coming someday to Tumblr but for now is on AO3.

[wingheadshellhead]

designing the armor to have a cunty little crop top and snatched waist is so gay fashion icon of him

[marveluniversehero]

The OG 6 Avengers - Marvel Rivals

[saint-ajax]

lowkey

“I WISH TO SEE YOUR LOVELY SMILE.” Wanda had heard from the wonderful mind of her clandestine significant other who sat across her. She knew Wanda could read her mind or hear her thoughts, which is why she whispered little cheers for her. While the Secretary of State discussed the accords that half of the Avengers seemed to disagree with.

   She knows what Wanda's going through right now, and she wants nothing but to be there for her. Wanda forced a little smile for her to assure her she was fine. Before she looked away to read a book Ross had handed them. 

   She was solely focused on Wanda. She was watching how her expressions changed as she read the book before handing it to Natasha. She didn’t care about the material everyone was frowning on and passed it to Steve when he asked for it.

  “Everything okay? ” She asked Wanda in her mind. When Wanda looked at her, she met Wanda's gaze with worry. She subtly shook her head, indicating that she didn’t know.

   In a world where saving people could paint you as the hero and the enemy at the same time, where chaos and battles are the muse of the system, they could only find peace and order in each other’s company.

   Perhaps no one in the room truly knows what’s between the two of them. Perhaps it’s forbidden, or it may not be. But the holy truth is that they do not care for it. 

   To feel, to hold, to cry, and to laugh beside one another is all they care about. For as long as the world can only bring anything but unkind nature to them, they will always lean on and seek each other.

   The meeting was left with an indefinite answer, which Secretary Ross and the United Nations wished for them to create a smart and cooperative decision.

   Everyone was gathered in the living room. They were scattered around to discuss the proposal of leaders from different nations. Yet she was only worried that Wanda was blaming herself for an inevitable incident. 

   She sat in between Vision and Wanda. The atmosphere was getting heated the more the group dove into the conflict they were challenged to solve. Meanwhile, Wanda listened to what the veterans had to say, while her girlfriend was busy watching and playing with her slender hands. Entwining their fingers and placing them in between their thighs to hide them from everyone's view.

   Wanda was used to her gestures like this one, and so she wasn't fazed as she absorbed the points everyone had to point out. Finally, she was all caught up.

   “You're saying they'll come for me.” 

   “I wouldn't let them. I will protect you.” Wanda gazed at her as she squeezed her hand three times and gave her a reassuring smile.

   “We all will protect you.” Vision had commented on the side as they continued to exchange thoughts.

   She rubbed Wanda's hands with her thumb as they continued the discussion until Steve left. “I have to go.”

   Everyone followed after Steve to attend their respective errands. 

   The look Tony gave Wanda before asking Vision to talk in private did not escape her sight. They spent the whole afternoon in Wanda's room as she remained suspicious of it. Eventually, she had to chase Natasha to borrow a car for the late-night drive she planned. 

   “Nat?”

   “Yeah?”

   “Where are you going? ”

   “Attend a conference. Why? ”

   “Can I borrow a car? ”

   “Sure.” Natasha tossed her keys before leaving. 

   “Thanks.” She ran back upstairs to see Vision cooking and Wanda tasting it.

   “Spirit lifted.”

   She stood by the hall as she watched the two exchange laughter. Something inside her spiked and poked her, and it felt close to pain. And anger. She shook her head to get those thoughts out of her head before having the courage to steal their attention.

   “Hey, Wands, ready? ” 

   “Oh, yes. I'm sorry.” Wanda immediately went to her. Something about watching Vision frown upon Wanda coming to her instead of him was satisfying.

   “Apologies, but may I know where you're going? ” 

   None of your business. “Don't worry, Vis; I just want to show her something. We'll be quick.” She didn't even bother to hear what he had to say and carried Wanda away with her, hand in hand.

   Wanda didn't protest, and she let her drag her away. “I heard that,” she remarked.

   “Surprising.” She scoffed as she played with the keys.

   Wanda frowned at her attitude. “What's wrong, darling? ”She was supposed to ignore it, but Wanda made them stop walking and made her face her.

   “Talk to me properly. You're not letting me into your head. I can't understand.”

   “Nothing's wrong.” She avoided her gaze as she denied the truth.

   “I'm not asking again.” Wanda took her hand back harshly and crossed her arms. 

   “Fine. It's.. it's Vision..   and you.”

   “What's wrong with Vision and me? ”

   “Nothing! See? Nothing wrong. Let's go.”

   “Are you jealous? ”Wanda squinted at her when she finally put the puzzle pieces together.

   She puffed air as an act of dismissing her accusation. “No. I'm not.” Me? Jealous of a synthezoid? No way.

  “Darling, you are jealous . ” Wanda smiled to hide her laughter at her charming girl.

   She rolled her eyes. “Yeah? What if I am? ”

   “I like it. Even though you have nothing to be jealous of.”

   “I was trying all day to lift your mood, but with him, one paprika, and you're all giggling like a little girl,” she frowned. Now that she thought about it, it actually hurt.

   “Oh, baby, you have no idea how calm you've made me the entire day.” Wanda had cupped her face for her to directly look into her emerald eyes. “I have been on edge all day, and you've kept me sane.” And there it was; her lovely smile had finally shown up, and it was beautifully contagious.

   Wanda looking so pretty and smiling while staring into her eyes made her knees weak and her cheeks pink. “You have to stare at me like that? ”

   “Like what? ”

   “Like you want to kiss me.” Wanda let out a wholehearted laugh. It was a scene to behold. She watched the redhead with shiny eyes, appreciating her beauty when she smiled.

   “Oh, you know very well how to read my mind,” Wanda uttered before pulling her into a kiss that sent butterflies into her stomach.

   She received the kiss well and responded with the strong passion they both possess. Their lips were crashing in sync as their heads angled in a pattern while their hands roamed.

   “Oh, there you are—” They both stopped and looked at the owner of the voice, which interrupted them. It was Vision. “Oh...” He tilted his head as he studied what was happening. He blinked it away and proceeded to state his business. “I'm glad to catch both of you. I'm afraid you're not allowed to leave the building.”

   “Let me guess, Tony's orders? ”She said, making Wanda frown in confusion as she looked at her.

   “Correct,” Vision responded. 

   “That's not happening.” Another familiar voice came from the other side, and when they looked, they saw Clint. “Come on, kids, pack your bags. I'm here to pick you up.”

   “I'm afraid I can't let them go.” Vision begged to differ. 

   “Oh my god! What are you doing here? ”Wanda said in surprise.

   “Disappointing my kids.”

   “In whose orders, Clint? ”

   She questioned.

   “Captain. Cap needs our help. Come on.” She looked into Wanda's eyes to consult their plan. Wanda looked hesitant.

   “What's wrong? ”

   “I’ve caused enough problems.” She and Clint frowned at Wanda.

   “You gotta help me, Wanda. Look, you want to mope, can go to high school. You wanna make amends, you get off your ass. We gotta go.”

   “Come on, Wanda. It'll be okay.” The girl holding Wanda's hand and giving her assuring eyes and comfort was what helped to convince her.

   Wanda nods and lets her drag her along as they follow Clint. “Stop! Clint.. You should not be here.” Vision interrupts and Clint rolls his eyes.

   “Really? I retire for, what, like five minutes, and it all goes to shit.“

   “Please consider the consequences of your actions.” He started to elevate as he turned his guard on.

   “Okay.. they're considered.   Okay, we gotta go.” They immediately turned their backs on Vision while he was held back by a force field. It was sparkling and crackling between the two arrows. None of them had the time to notice when Clint had shot them.

   Just as they reach the exit, Vision catches up to them. As they were caught off guard, he punched Clint, but he quickly recovered. “I knew I should've stretched.” Clint groaned.

   He extended a baton in an attempt to hit Vision, but it was useless as the blows went through him. He resorts to punches and comes back to the baton until it breaks. Clint doesn't give up and tries to kick Vision, but as expected, his kicks pass through him. They ended up with Vision having Clint in a headlock. Completely naive about the existence of the two ladies.

   “Clint, you cannot overpower me.”

   He was still able to speak, but it was crooked. “I know I can't, but they can.”

   Vision's eyes found Wanda's glowing ruby orbs. “Vision.. That's enough; let him go.” As the energy from Wanda's hands falters Vision, Clint manages to slip from his grip.

   A yellow, sparkling circle opened beneath Vision caused by her. The body of water in the area of HQ was seen on the other side of the portal.

   “If you do this… they will never stop being afraid of you.”

   “The thing is... She cannot control their fear,” the sorcerer answers Vision.

   “Only my own.” Wanda buries Vision through the water and passes the ground, and her sorcerer closes the portal just in time for the water to not splash at them.

   She finds Wanda's eyes; their glow is starting to fade as she calms down. She walks over to her and holds her hand. “I'm proud of you,” she whispers as she touches her chin to make Wanda look at her.

   She managed to make Wanda smile lightly and entwine their fingers together. “Thank you.”

   “...Alright, what the hell is this? ”She and Wanda forgot about Clint and looked at him before chuckling lightly. “What has Nat been teaching you two? ”

   “Looking over my shoulder should be a second nature. And I’m starting to think she's right.” Wanda chuckled at her own remark of being caught in the moment and kept forgetting there were people with them.

   “So, you two? together? ”Clint asked to confirm.

   Both of the ladies chuckled as they held hands and followed Clint to the van.

   “Lowkey.”

[yourlocalaulibrary]

Peter Parker Needs a Hug Fic Rec's

Ongoing Peter Parker fics that are underrated and/or up and coming that deserve some more love! They all have the 'Peter Parker Needs a Hug' tag which is one of my favorites to explore. Mix of Batfam, Peter and Avengers, and Peter + other Marvel Heroes. All fics are currently over 20k words, enjoy! Links are the underlined titles, just click and read :D

1. Faith (Now that's a Strong Word) by mtopin:

Peter and Dick seem to always be one step ahead of the other, but if they both are it just leads them to run into one another. (Other Notable Tags: Peter Parker & Dick Grayson, BatFamily Members & Peter Parker, Canon Divergence) Rec Reason: The author seems to have a good grasp on the dynamic between Peter & Dick, which helps in establishing their characters

2. He's Mr. Perfectly Fine by howls_library:

Peter is trying his best to be the leader of a new team of heroes while being mentored by the former avengers. He tries to take a page out of Tony's book to do so. (Other Notable Tags: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Steve Rogers/James "Bucky" Barnes, X-Men References) Rec Reason: Some of the best dialogue between character's I've read, the plot is plotting and Peter is a standout character when given the leader role. Plus Irondad dynamic and future Bucky & Peter friendship according to the author, which I LOVE.

3. Come Down in Circles (And Guide Me to Love) by 221BroadwayIron:

Irondad and Spiderson are taken to new heights as Tony has to decide what exactly to do with a surprising new addition after the passing of Peter's aunt. (Other Notable Tags: Kid Peter Parker, Fluff and Angst, Avengers Family, Alternate Universe) Rec Reason: Kid Peter is something I adore reading and this is the epitome of Tony Stark has a heart. It is a fluffy little fic where it takes itself lightly.

4. Echoes of a Shadow by Somnis88:

Peter escapes Hydra with amnesia. He has so much to learn. Like how to be a typical highschooler, and how to balance all that with his newfound alter ego. A great twist on the past life trope. (Other Notable Tags: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Harley Keener, Peter Parker is a BAMF Puppy) Rec Reason: The whole idea of having someone lose their memories is difficult to pull off but I think that this is a great take on the trope. Plus the character's in this fic are some of my favorites to incorporate.

5. The Wrecked and The Worried (My Responsibility) by Shieldmaidenshay:

A Peter in Gotham fic that is filled with a mixture of canon and headcanon per the author. A good story to read when you are needing something new! (Other Notable Tags: Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne Has Issues) Rec Reason: While some may disagree with fanon or headcanon's I am completely fine with it when the author acknowledges that's what they are doing. This is exactly that.

[theycallmeinterstellar]

"undoing this character's death would take away his sacrifice and character arc" girl I don't give a shit. I'm bringing him back through the power of ao3 fix-it fics and there's nothing you can do to stop me x

[laurie-stark]

Cherry Bomb

Tony Stark reveled in the spotlight. Between the high-end parties and multi-billion dollar company, there wasn't a thing that he kept from the public eye. Except for his daughter.

Laurel "Laurie" Stark was Tony's closely guarded secret. And while she inherited her father's intelligence and charm, she also inherited his stubbornness. Despite his best efforts to keep her far away from the Avenger's war front, Laurie found a way to be needed, time and time again.

With the Sokovia Accords underway, Tony and Laurie find themselves on opposite sides of the fight. Will they continue to crash heads, or will Tony finally come to realize his daughter's strength?

Started 09/01/2024 Last Updated 10/20/2024 Next Update 11/10/2024

Updates every two weeks!

Introductions

Chapter I

Chapter II

Chapter III

Chapter IV

Chapter V

Chapter VI

Chapter VII - Coming 08/12/24

[avengerscompound]

The Tower - Under the Table

The Tower - Under the Table

Series Masterlist

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 4585

Warnings:  smut (ten personal bixexual orgy, oral sex, vaginal fingering, anal sex, some use of powers, blindfolds)

Synopsis:  It’s Elly’s birthday, and after dinner the group have their own special kind of party game, one where they find out how well they know each other, and who can keep a good poker face.

Author’s Note:  Long time no update! I’ve been writing really slow at the moment.  But I am still doing these if you have requests.  This one was Requested by bubsanddoll21 on Wattpad. You can send in your requests too.

Takes place between The Tower and The Holiday Special

Under the Table

In the early days of my relationship with the Avengers, it was a rare event that all of us had a meal together at a table.  Ten people at a table felt more like a dinner party than a date.  Sitting around on the couches just felt more familiar and comfortable. So when we did sit down to eat, it was a special occasion.

This one was my birthday.

The others had wanted to do something special, so they decorated the conference room and Bucky, Sam, and Wanda had cooked a large meal.  It was nice and at the point where most of us had finished eating, Tony leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head.  “We should have brought some games up with us,” he said.  “I could go a few rounds of Cards Against Humanity right now.”

“I could go down and get something,” Steve offered.

“You’re still eating, Steve,” Wanda said.  “Someone else can go.”

“Or!” Clint said, waggling his eyebrows.  “Or… we could play a different kind of game.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re not talking about charades?” Sam asked.

“Because you know me too well, Sammy,” Clint said.  “I saw this thing…”

“What have I told you about watching that stuff on the company wifi?” Tony scolded.

Clint smirked at him.  “To invite you along when I do,” he teased and stuck his tongue out at Tony.  “Anyway, as I was saying; I saw this thing.  Someone gets under the table and starts going down on someone.  And if the person getting blown or eating out gives it away that it’s happening to them, they have to go under the table.  And if someone guesses the wrong person, it’s them.  Like a Blow Job Roulette.”

“Okay, that sounds fun,” I said.  “Can we?” 

There was a murmur around the table, and one by one everyone agreed it sounded like it could be fun.

“Birthday girl goes first,” Sam said.

“Shouldn’t I be the one that gets eaten out first?” I countered. 

“But then we’d all know it was you, and you’d just end up under the table,” Sam argued.  “You might as well start down there.”

I laughed.  The logic was flawed, but I figured it was as good a place as any.  “Alright, pants off everyone,” I said, slipping off my chair onto my knees under the table.  Everyone shuffled around, some of them just opening their pants and pulling their cocks out, while others stood and pushed their pants all the way down.  Wanda and Natasha were both wearing skirts, so they just took off their panties and hoisted up their skirts.  It was quite a sight under the table.  Nine people all around me, pants down, and legs spread.  Some of the men were already half-hard.  I looked around, picking my target.

Of all the members of the group, Wanda was calling to me the most.  She was wearing thigh-high black socks, heeled boots, and a black skirt that was bunched up.  Her legs were spread and the little thatch of pubic hair glistened invitingly.

I crawled over to her, putting my hands on her thighs.  She tensed and I ducked my head forward, licking up her slit.  I wondered what she looked like right now.  How she was hiding what was happening.  If she was hiding it.  From where I was, it seemed so obvious.  Her muscles had clenched and she’d tilted her hips forward.  I could even feel a slight shake in her thighs.  I couldn’t imagine it not being totally obvious from above the table, but if she was, no one had said anything yet.

I pushed my tongue inside her and flicked it up over her clit, painting little shapes over it.  She squirmed and her cunt flooded, and as the tart, musky flavor of her slick filled my mouth, Bucky, Tony, and Clint all called out at once. “Wanda!”

“No fair!” Wanda whined as I pulled away.

“That’s the game, Wanda,” Sam said.  “Now under the table.”

I crawled out and wriggled out of my pants as Wanda climbed in under the table.  I sat down and nothing seemed to happen for a while.  I could hear Wanda moving under the table for a moment, and then after that, it was just the sounds of people picking at the last of the food and random conversation in the group.

All of a sudden Clint yelped and practically rocketed up off his chair. “Wanda!” he scolded.  “No powers!”

She got up giggling as everyone burst out laughing.  “Did someone get invaded by some pink light?” Tony teased.

“That’s one way to put it,” Clint said as he climbed under the table.

It took a really long time before the next person became clear.  I was studying everyone very closely, and the only thing that had me wondering was the slightly bored looks in the eyes of Natasha and Tony.  Which made me think it was more likely Tony as he usually dominated the conversation.  It wasn’t until his brow furrowed and he moved his hand under the table that I knew for sure it was him.

“Tony!” I yelled, pointing at him.  “It’s you!”

“Ah, shit,” Tony said, reaching under the table with both hands and began to rut his hips.  “Wait, Clint, I’m nearly done.”

“Hey now,” Steve said.  “You can wait like the rest of us.”

Clint made a choked sound and stumbled out from under the table, his eyes watering, and he wiped his mouth.  “Jesus,” he cursed.  “Tony was a terrible choice.”

“Oh, baby,” Tony said, as he smoothed down his shirt.  “The amount of calls I’ve taken while I’ve been balls deep in someone.”

“Alright, alright, get under the table smart ass,” Steve said.

Tony laughed as he climbed under, and I decided on a completely different strategy.  I glanced around the table, trying to see if anyone had given it away, but at the same time, I tensed my hands and took in a shaky breath.

“Elly!” Clint, Steve, Natasha, and Sam all said at once.

“No!” I shouted and Bruce groaned. “It’s Bruce!”

“You little…!” Natasha scolded.  “That was evil!”

Tony had broken down into laughter under the table and he crawled his way out.  “That was awesome,” he said.  “Now what?  Do all of you have to get under the table?”

“Might I suggest that we alter the game?” Thor asked.  “Perhaps, rather than all of us trying to work out who is being pleasured, Lady Elise should be blindfolded and have to work out which of her lovers is pleasuring her.”

“I think that sounds like a fantastic idea,” Natasha said.  “If she can guess, then they can make her come.  If not, she just gets edged.”

“What do you think of that, Elise?” Steve asked.

I nodded enthusiastically.  “Yes, please. It is my birthday after all.”

“We might need lube and something to blindfold El with,” Sam said.  “I mean - if we’re going to have real fun that is.”

Wanda lifted her loop scarf off over her head, and Tony, Clint, Natasha, and Thor all fished in their pockets and pulled out lube.  What was funny was none of them had the same kind of lube.  Tony had the warming gel kind, Clint’s was espresso flavored, Natasha’s doubled as a massage gel, and Thor’s was an oil he’d brought from Asgard and came in a delicate-looking, hand-blown glass bottle.

Steve and Wanda approached me as the others started clearing the table.  “Let’s get you ready, Elise,” Steve said.

Steve lifted my shirt off over my head and Wanda unfastened my bra.  I let the fabric slip down my arms and Steve tossed both it and my bra aside.  Wanda kissed me softly and then wrapped the scarf around the top of my head, obscuring my vision.  When it was in place properly, and I had assured them I couldn’t see anything, Steve lifted me and put me on the table.

I lay back and lifted my legs, spreading them and resting my feet at the edge of the table.  They made me wait a moment, and while I waited, they were clearly not keeping their hands to themselves.  There were moans and the soft wet sounds of kissing around me, which only made that wait worse.

My thighs were trembling by the time someone touched me.  Right away I knew it was one of the guys and not Natasha or Wanda, and given the fact that he touched me with both hands, and they were both flesh, I knew it wasn’t Bucky either.

There was no preamble. Whoever it was just lunged in and began to lap up the length of the slit.  They didn’t even try spreading me with their fingers, rather their tongue pushed between my folds and just got to work.  I could feel the scratch of their beard.  Yet, even without that, they were very skilled with their tongue.  It started wide, sweeping up from my entrance to my clit, and then began to focus on the little but, sending little jolts through me.  I didn’t even need the extra sensation of their long hair tickling the insides of my thighs, I knew it was Thor.  The size of his hands, the beard, and the technique all screamed the god of thunder to me.

“Mmm… Thor,” I moaned, lifting my hips to meet his mouth.

A deep booming chuckle sounded between my legs and Thor sent a jolt of electricity right through my clit making my body jerk up hard.  I nearly came just from that.

“How do you even do that?” Tony laughed. “You are too good at this game.”

“You gotta make me come now,” I said breathlessly, reaching down to tangle my hands into Thor’s hair.

“Don’t worry, lover.  I will,” Thor said.

He was good to his word.  He pulled my clit between his lips and began to flick his tongue over it.  Every now and again, he’d send another spark into it, that made my core muscles clench completely out of my control.  It brought me careening to the edge very quickly and the fourth time he did it, the dam burst and I came, arching up hard off the table as my orgasm crashed through me.

“Fucking hell!” I cried out.

“Damn, Thor,” Sam said.  “That had to be some kind of record.”

“I am a god, Samuel,” Thor bragged.

There was only a short wait for the next person to move up.  It was another one of the men and once again, clearly not Bucky.  This person was much more tentative than Thor, spreading my folds with his fingers, and slowly swirling his tongue over them.   He was tender and methodical, and it sent a warm buzz through me, oozing out like honey on tiles.  There was no beard, and the very faint tickle of the hair on his head on my thighs.

“Bruce,” I moaned, arching my back and lifting one leg so it was draped over his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” Tony cursed.  “You’re gonna be having so many orgasms tonight.”

“I know you all too well,” I moaned.  “Gonna have to mess up on purpose so I don’t die.”

“Let’s see how you go,” Bruce said and eased two fingers inside me.

Bruce was slower and more methodical about things than Thor, at least initially.  He pushed his fingers in deep, touching my g-spot and then stroking over it.  As he did, he pulled my clit between his lips and flicked his tongue over it.  The louder I moaned the rougher he got, so it wasn’t long before he’d gone from careful and slow, to rough and fast.  His fingers hammered into my g-spot, over and over, sending sharp jolts right through me, making it so I couldn’t think straight.  Beside me, someone had started having sex, and from the sounds of it, it’d be a while before Clint was down between my legs.

My orgasm peaked and Bruce pushed his fingers against my g-spot and twisted his wrist, and I came, my back arching off the table as I cried out, shuddering with it.

Bruce hummed and pulled away. “Mmm… I love seeing you come,” he hummed, leaning down to kiss me.

I sucked my slick from his lips and he pulled away, running his hand down my stomach and patting my pussy before pulling away.  I didn’t have to wait very long before the next person to take their place.  Right away I could tell it was one of the women, which narrowed the choice down to two.  I almost wanted to just take a shot in the dark and really freak them out.  I didn’t even need to though, the slow tease of her fingers up my thighs, and the way she ran her nails over my hips as she leaned in, I knew right away it was Natasha.  Not because she always touched me like that, but just that it was uniquely her.

“Natasha!” I said quickly.

She cursed in Russian and Tony burst out laughing, while at least two other people applauded me.  I would have taken a bow if I wasn’t flat on my back.  “That’s my girl,” Natasha praised and got to work.

Her nimble fingers pushed inside me and immediately pushed against my g-spot. I gasped and bucked up hard against her, but she just pushed my hips back down and continued doing it.  She countered the intense pressure of her fingers against that sweet spot inside me with her tongue on my clit.  It was intense.  I couldn’t focus.  Lights popped behind my eyes and each time I tried to say something all that came out was an animalistic cry.

When I came, I gushed, spraying Natasha with my juices as I arched hard on the table.  It was so intense, it knocked every conscious thought out of my head and I just oozed down onto the table, breathing heavily, completely forgetting that there were still six more people to go.

“Well done, Mishka,” Natasha praised.“I hope you have more in you.”

I wasn’t so sure.  In fact, when the next person stepped up, it took me a moment to realize there was even someone there.  Their tongue was lapping up and down my folds before I was truly aware enough to remember I was supposed to be playing a game.

The way they lapped their tongue was almost soothing after the intensity of the last orgasm I had.  There was a scratch of beard on my skin, but my foggy head made it hard to think about which beard it could be.

Finally, it clicked into place.  No metal hand.  That cut out Bucky.  Clint and Steve were both clean-shaven.  Which just left Tony and Sam.  I was sure that Tony would want to torture me after what happened and he wouldn’t be going easy on me at all. “Sam…” I moaned, the sounds completely breathless.

“We should never have doubted you,” Thor said.  “This is truly impressive.”

“Are you sure you’re not peeking?” Clint asked.

“Just know you all,” I argued in that same breathless moan.

Sam pulled back and a moment later there was the press of his cock against my cunt. “Let’s make you come a different way,” Sam said.

He lifted my legs so they were up against his chest and he pushed into me.  As he started to thrust into me, I gripped the edge of the table to hold myself steady. “Oh fuck,” I moaned.  I was so sensitive and overworked, that I knew the next six orgasms would happen really fast.  I was going to be completely over-stimulated by the time we were done.

Sam slid his hands down my thighs and onto my cunt, and he began to rub my clit in tight circles. I mewled, arching my back and clenching tight around his shaft.  “Oh god, Sam.  Please…”  I didn’t even know what I was pleading for.  I just knew I needed something.  More, harder, slow down, be gentle.  Or maybe just to stop.

His thumb kept rubbing in tight circles on my clit and thrusting in fast and deep, and very quickly I was brought spiraling to the edge once more.  He pinched my clit and I went toppling over, crying out and clenching my teeth as all my muscles clenched up at once.

“Good girl,” Sam praised.  “There we go.”

He slipped out of me and I let my legs fall on the table.  “You still okay?” he asked.

I nodded and made an incoherent sound.  He caressed my cheek and ran his thumb over my bottom lips.  “Elise, are you sure?”

I nodded again.  “Yeah.  I can do this.”

He stepped away and the next hand touched me. Just the right hand, and it slid up my legs and when it reached the apex of my thigh, the thumb ran up and down my slit.  Someone might have been just trying to mess with me, but I didn’t think so, and when the person crouched and their long hair teased the inside of my thighs it confirmed it.  “Bucky,” I said.

He laughed. “Damn it.  I was trying not to give it away.”

“That’s what gave it away,” I said.

“Alright, alright, let’s make you come then,” he said, sounding a lot like he was pouting.

He didn’t even bother to try and go down on me.  He just pushed my legs up against my body, lined his cock up to my cunt, and shoved in deep.  I gasped as he bottomed out and I felt the sharp sting of the head of his cock hitting my cervix.  “Bucky,” I whined.

“Sorry, honey,” he said, backing off a bit.  He smoothed his hands down my thighs and began to thrust.

I reached up, grabbing his wrists as he thrust into me and I wrapped my legs around his waist, drawing him in as tightly as I could.  “Bucky,” I moaned.  “Kiss me.”

He wrapped his right arm around my waist and lifted me, so I was sitting on the edge of the table and the cool metal of his thumb brushed over my lips.  I parted them, leaning forward as I wrapped my arms around him and pushed my hands into his hair.

He kissed me, his tongue pushing into my mouth.  I flicked my tongue forward to meet his and they danced together.  Bucky kept thrusting into me and I rolled my hips to meet him.  As worked up as I was, I knew I wouldn’t last, but the way this orgasm built felt so different from the past four.  It wound around me like a warm blanket.  I was engulfed by it, cocooned completely.  It heated me from the inside and yet I trembled in Bucky’s arms.  He held me close, thrusting in deep and kissing me with a passionate intensity that took my breath away.

When my orgasm washed over me, I threw my head back and clenched tight around me.  “Oh god, Bucky,” I moaned.

Bucky’s hips stuttered and he groaned loudly, burying his head in my neck. “Fuck, Elly,” he groaned, suddenly jerking forward and coming inside me.

“Bucky Barnes, you dirty dog,” Clint scolded.  “Leaving a mess in there for us to clean up.”

I swatted lazily in Clint’s direction as Bucky started laughing. “Oh like you’re not looking forward to that.”

He pulled out of me and I lay back with a groan.  It wasn’t long before someone else was between my legs.  They lifted them and spread them wide and then did something that gave them away immediately.  They laughed.

“What’s so funny, Tony?” I asked.

“Ah fuck,” he said. “Didn’t even get a chance to trick you.  I just had plans to go to town on you.”

“Mean,” he said, reaching for him.  “Go on, you gotta give me my prize.”

“Alright, alright,” he said and pushed his cock up against my cunt.  “It’s coming and so will you be.”

I laughed, but it was cut short as he shoved inside of me.  He thrust in so hard it nearly knocked the wind from me.  I cried out and reached above my head.  Someone grabbed my hand and I held onto them as Tony began to thrust into me.

He didn’t go easy on me the way Bucky had.  He grabbed my legs, held me in place, and just railed into me.  “Fuck… fuck… fuck…” I babbled as I was jolted on the table.  My fingers tightened around whoever’s hand I was holding.  It felt like this orgasm was being hammered into me.  Each thrust of Tony’s hips just made it build more and more until I was ready to burst.

It hit me hard, lights popped behind my eyes and I cried out, my hips bucking and my body writhing under him.  “Oh fuck yes, Tony!” I mewled.

Tony kept thrusting, fucking me through my orgasm, and with a shudder he came too, moaning as he did.  “There you go, Legolas,” Tony teased as he held me in place.

He leaned down and kissed me as he pulled out, and stepped away.  A lay on the table breathing heavily, waiting for the next person the move up.

I didn’t have to wait long, and once again, I knew who it was as soon as their hands were on my skin.

“Wanda,” I said.

She giggled.  “I knew there was no point trying to trick you.  But lucky you, now you get your prize.”

She took her hands off me completely and just as I wondered what she was doing, the warm tingle of her powers touched on my feet and began to wind their way up my leg.  It was slow going, and it didn’t settle on my cunt right away, rather, it wrapped its way right around me, making my whole body buzz and tingle.

I whined, squirming on the table.  I was still holding someone’s hand, and I gripped it tighter, trying to tether myself to something real.

“Please, Wanda,” I whined, bucking my hips.

She giggled again, but things started to get more focused.  It swirled around my nipples, tugging on them, and began to buzz against my clit. I moaned, arching my back and the pressure increased.  Every moan I made made her increase the pressure of her powers on me.  My nipples hardened almost painfully and a hot current ran right through me from my clit.  I was dripping on the table as my cunt clenched around nothing.

It started to feel like some kind of torture.  I was so close, and yet she was keeping me hovering there right at the edge.  “Please.  Please, Wanda.  I need … I need…”

“Yes, Elly?” she asked.

“I need to come,” I wailed.

A jolt shot through me, and just like that, I came, arching hard off the table, and screaming as my orgasm rocked through me, making me gush onto the table.  It was the most intense orgasm yet, and for a moment everything went black.

When the world returned, I was panting heavily, completely dazed as I rode out the extreme orgasm high.

“Holy shit, Wanda,” Natasha cursed.  “That was impressive.”

“Two more left, El,” Steve said.  “You sure you’ve got them in you?”

I nodded slowly.  “Think so.”

Someone moved up and skimmed the back of their fingers up the insides of my thighs.  It was a Clint trick, but not out of Steve’s playbook. Whoever it was leaned in, ghosting his lips up the insides of my soaked thighs.  His fingers moved to my cunt, spreading it with his fingers and running his tongue up my slit.  There was no beard, but both Clint and Steve were currently clean-shaven, so that didn’t give it away.  I really had no idea who was touching me.

I lifted my feet, put them on his shoulders, and flexed my toes.  Whoever it was was broad-shouldered and muscular.  That didn’t exactly narrow it down either.  And just because Steve was broader than Clint, I chose him.

“Steve?” I asked.

“You sure about that, darlin’?” Bucky asked. 

“No… but it’s my guess,” I moaned.

Some of the group started clapping.  “Well done, that’s all of you.  How about Clint and Steve make you come together, so you only have to do one more?” Sam suggested.

I nodded emphatically.  “Please.”

Steve moved forward, the thick head of his cock pressing against my cunt.  I raised my hips to meet him, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling him closer to me.  He pulled back just a little and with a snap of his hips, he sunk in deep.

I gasped and arched my back.  As I did, Clint moved up beside me on the table and began to flick his tongue over my clit and play with my breast.  The table was jostled beside us and Clint grunted and let out a moan.

“Who’s fucking Clint?” I moaned.

“That’d be me, honey,” Sam replied.  “You want to see?”

I nodded.  “Please.”

The blindfold was taken off as Steve continued to thrust into me.  I blinked at the light and looked around, Taking everything in.  Steve was between my legs, holding me in place, his brow furrowed as he fucked me.  Clint was half propped on the table, bent over me, licking at my clit and that base of Steve’s cock.  Sam was behind him, one hand braced on Clint’s shoulder and the other on his hip as he thrust into him, jostling him against me.  The others were spaced around the table.  Most just watching.  Thor was the one holding my hand, though Wanda was bouncing in his lap, her eyes glowing pink.

Everyone else was just kissing and holding each other as they watched Clint and Steve bring on my final orgasm.  Seeing them just added to my pleasure, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

I relaxed back, just letting the pleasure wash over me, It encompassed me completely.  But in the end, it wasn’t either Steve or Clint that set my orgasm off, it was Wanda’s orgasm.

She cried out and her powers burst out of her and I was hit by a sudden, intense wave of her pleasure.  I came hard, all my muscles clenching at once making me arch violently off the table.  I cried out and my vision blacked out for a moment.  Wanda’s orgasm must have affected the others too.  Steve groaned and gripped my hips hard shoving into me and coming deep inside me.  Sam’s hips bucked and his head fell back as his hit too, and Clint suddenly arched like a cat and came in thick ropes onto the table.

I fell back breathing heavily as I rode the waves of my orgasm.  Steve hunched over me panting and Clint slithered down and lay there with his head on my stomach.

That’s how we stayed for a while and then Natasha stood.  “Okay.  How about we clean up here and head downstairs?  I think it’s time for a soak in the hot tub.” 

Steve sighed contentedly and slipped out of me.   He pulled up his pants and then picked me up, cradling me against him. “Good birthday?” he asked.

I hummed, snuggling against his chest and closing his eyes as I murmured my reply. “The best.”

~ END ~

[louiejoyce]

Recent Iron Man v Alien commission that I had a blast drawing!

www.louiejoyce.com

[sjsmith56]

The Gilded Age - An Avengers / Bucky Barnes AU Set in 1899

This is an alternate universe story set in 1899, near the end of the Gilded Age, in New York City. It is a time that appears to be prosperous, as economic expansion grows the economy, leading to better wages and a demand for skilled labourers, drawing immigrants from all over. But this time also has dark shadows. It is described by Mark Twain as an era of materialistic excess, combined with political corruption. Just as there are villains, there are heroes, the famed Avengers of the Society of Heroic Individuals and Estimable Lofty Deeds, or SHIELD. One in particular, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, of the United States Cavalry, has a tragic past, but the arrival of the new librarian / curator for the Society, brings thoughts of romance to his mind.

Format: Short fiction. 7 parts. Updated once per week.

Warnings: Violence, description of torture and medical experimentation. There will be some sexual content but as it is set in 1899, unmarried sexual relations were not commonly discussed in certain social circles and the OFC is inexperienced. The romance is a somewhat slow burn.

If you’re interested, please follow me and activate notifications. There are no tag lists.

All mood boards and banners will have AI generated images created by the author using Microsoft Copilot in Designer mode. (I wish I had the artistic talent to draw but I don’t.)

Chapters and more after the break. Divider by vecteezy.com

Part 1. Introductions All Around

Part 2. Preparations

Part 3. Courtship

Part 4. Downpour

Part 5. Regret

Part 6. Confrontation

Part 7. Satisfaction

United States Cavalry Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, formal portrait taken sometime in 1893 (prior to his capture in the Wyoming Range Wars).

Short Fiction Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

favor

tony stark x f!reader prompt: warmth theme: fluff (tags beneath the cut)

“Hey,” you said lightly, a soft, surprised smile curving your lips as you looked up from your book. Tony was standing in the doorway, cast in shadow by the darkened hallway behind him. His hair was dishevelled and there were sadly-all-too-familiar shadows under his eyes, but he gave you a sweet, affectionate smile that always managed to warm you from the very middle of yourself. “I didn’t expect to see you this early.”

“Shouldn’t you have been in bed an hour ago?”

“Yeah… that isn’t exactly the ‘daddy’ vibe girls usually go for in their older boyfriends.”

Tony snickered, rolling his eyes. “You used to be so innocent.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“No, you didn’t.” he agreed, amused. “I never stood a chance.”

You grinned back up at him, tucking a bookmark between the pages of the novel laying open in your lap. You set it on the coffee table beside you, sighing as you stretched out a kink in your lower back from sitting still for so long. “So, Mr. Stark… are you darkening my doorway at this late hour because you’ve decided you’re coming to bed?”

“Ooh, I love it when you get all formal and dramatic.” he teased, a playful glint in his eyes. “Do it more.”

You rolled your eyes in amusement. “Are you coming to bed or not, Tony?”

He sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair ruefully. “I think I’m going to be working a little longer, sweetheart.”

“Really?” you frowned. He hadn’t come to bed at all the last two nights, and with you out of the tower all day, you weren’t sure if he’d left the lab much at all. “When was the last time you got some sleep?”

He shrugged a shoulder, and your frown deepened in concern. He recognized your expression and offered you a reassuring smile. “I’m fine, baby.”

“Do me a favor?”

“Always.”

Your lips twitched in a small smile at his readiness, and you shifted in your seat. You were sitting on one of the large, plush sofas bordering the coffee table, your back against the arm of it. You lifted one side of the blanket on your lap invitingly. “Take a break. Just an hour. Please.”

Tony looked as though he was going to deny you for a moment before he relented, his shoulders relaxing in defeat. “You don’t play fair.”

“No, I don’t.” you agreed, your smile widening as he approached you. Tony climbed onto the couch, and instead of sitting beside you, he stretched out on top of you, his legs tucked between yours and his arms banding around your waist. You chuckled lightly as he settled against your chest, feeling his own chest heave with a sigh. “You really didn’t take a lot of convincing, did you?”

Tony hummed appreciatively as you scratched your fingers softly through his hair and pulled the blanket back over the two of you. “Do I ever when it comes to you?”

“I love you too, Tone.” you murmured as you felt his breathing begin to slow.

tags: @ccbsrms@startrekkingaroundasgard@lina-mar@lovely-dreamer19@wittyforachange@wefracturedmotivation@january-echoes@glossyloner@capitalnineteen@youclickedthislink@s0ftness@castieltrash1@drakelover78@queenoftheunderdark@fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13@lol-you-thought@sebbystanlover-vk@mikariell95@csigeoblue@abrunettefangirlnerd@babyblues915@aar-journey@moistpotatobear @capsironunderoos @bellamyblakemorley@diesinspanishbcimhispanic@sentimentalalien@agustdowney@akumune@xxboesefrauxx@patheticallysentimental@loki-is-loved

[wingheadshellhead]

really love tony's compassion and empathy and unwavering belief that people deserve second chances and they truly earn them by putting in the work to change and do better

[marveluniversehero]

Avengers Fan Art by Phil Cho

[ibviously]

Project Pollux

Summary: Worlds collide when Agent Dioscuri is intercepted by Natasha Romanov. As the Avengers scramble to keep infinity stones from Thanos’s grasp, Agent Dioscuri scrambles from theirs. When the past is dissected and history resurfaces, Dioscuri fights to contain ugly, imperative truths. A pawn in the middle of a death-match, Dioscuri is forced to pick a side, or end up flipping the board.

Chapter Summary: The Avengers kidnap an important asset.

Warnings: Descriptions of torture, violence, and nudity.

Chapter One- Gentleman

“Gentlemen, I am joking, of course, and I myself know that I am not joking very successfully, but one really cannot take everything as a joke. Maybe I am grinding my teeth as I joke. Gentlemen, I am tormented by questions; resolve them for me.” From Notes from Underground, Fydor Dostoevsky

December 31st, 2015. New Year’s Eve. Avengers Compound, New York, NY. 11:43 pm.

Tony taps his glasses once, then twice, to recalibrate the lens. He has to be sure what he is seeing is real. He needs assurance that this is raw, unadulterated footage. The glasses ping softly, confirming his dread. The images projected in front of him move seamlessly, one moment flowing into the next, the way moments do. At the end of the third play-through, Tony spins on his heels. The pulse of revelry and hot-blooded fun sound beneath his lab. He had sworn off work tonight- no tinkering or analysis of any nature. But Fury’s text, “Get on this, now,” had been too intriguing.

Now, he wishes he had never watched. Now, he scrambles down the glass stairs, descending into the compound’s main room and submerging himself into the crash of bodies. Lights throw stripes of color around the room. Heat blooms under his suit and he tugs off his tie. Finally, after throwing a few “pardon me” elbows, Tony surfaces to a splay of couches by the bar.

Natasha was mixes a drink, Banner leaning over to watch her process. Bucky and Steve are engaged into what looks like a game of rock paper scissors, during which Tony catches the phrase “No fair, Buck. I swear, the arm, it knows.” Thor galavants around, offering swigs of Asgardian liquor to “whomever dared.” Clint throw his head back in laughter, arms slung around Rhodey and Sam. Wanda and Peitro stand behind the sofa, watching the display with wide, amused eyes, leaning into each other’s ears to whisper something in Sokovian. Vision sits straight-backed next to Sam, with a pink party hat strapped to his chin.

A tug of frustration pulls in Tony’s chest. He could just leave this till tomorrow and let the team have one goddamn night of undiluted peace. Tony sighs, drawing the attention of the team, who had unknowingly concentrated themselves to a small section of the sprawling party. The sight warmed Tony’s cold blood- the mutual gravitation of friends. He wanted to tell them to all sit still so FRIDAY could mock-up a Renaissance-style painting. He pushes the thought aside.

“Stark?” Steve ask-commands, the pure glow of his blue eyes squashed by the furrow of his brow. The entire area stilled.

Straightening his spine and relaxing into his usual swagger, Tony takes off his glasses and tucks them into his button-down. “I have good news,” he drawls, motioning for Banner to come near. At his arrival, he plucks the drink Natasha had made him and, in one fluid motion, swallows it down, coughing at the burn. The team waited with straining patience.

Tony coughed, “Uh-“ Another cough. “Ruh- Romanov knows how to make a strong drink.”

Vision, who had removed his party hat, speaks up from the corner, saying, “Tony, I feel there is a shared sentiment of impatience. We would like to know what is wrong.”

Gathering himself, Tony swishes a hand of acknowledgement. “Yeah- yeah, and I am here to tell you. Drum roll please…” Pietro alone thrums his hands against his knees.

“I found the Soul Stone!”

Romanov slinks from behind the bar. “Where?” The words come clipped and taunt.

Tony casts a lazy finger in Romanov’s direction, and an even lazier wink. “That is the obligatory accompaniment to aforementioned ‘good news.’”

Bucky rises to his feet, his arm sending whisper-whirls into the hushed space. Beyond their pensive superhero bubble of concern, the party bounces along into the night, building to the apex of the night; twelve o’clock. “Spit it out, Stark,” Bucky grumbles.

“The Soul Stone is in a girl.”

From the corner, Tony hears an attempt at swallowing laughter, followed by the word “kinky” and a slap of Wanda’s hand against Pietro’s shoulder.

“Yes, yes. This is all very funny- accept it’s true and it’s a huge pain in my ass.” With a languid flick of his wrist, Tony sent the holograph blooming into the center of the circle, paused on the image of a young girl. She huddled in a corner, with a blanket wrapped around her body and her arms wrapped around her legs. Tucked into herself, the girl stares into the camera, unblinking. Around her, black steel walls. The image shook- an indication of a presence behind the lens, adjusting the shot. A disembodied voice sounds, clearly the operator of the camera.

“Dioscuri.” It commands. The girl’s eyes widen in fear.

Bucky, who had removed himself form his spot on the sofa next to Steve, was stricken into a stillness that drew more attention than movement. His eyes did not move from the hologram.

“Близнецы.” One short, cold word trails after the other like freight cars along the Trans-Siberian. “кастор.” “апельсин.” “пламя.” The words are hissed and devoid of warmth. Whoever is speaking to the girl hates her. The air between the group seems to cool.

And finally, “полночь.”

Natasha’s eyes mirror Becky’s, glazed, but pulsing with fear under the obvious strain of memory. Quietly, Natasha whispers the five words. “Gemini, Castor, Orange, Flame, Midnight.”

At the entrance of the last word, like whisp of fear puffed into the air, the room erupts. Per-programmed confetti bursts and the pop pop pop of champaign goes off like gunfire. The compound, filled with colleagues, friends, and family, join in one jovial, harmonious “Happy New Year!”

The hologram continues, its contents uncorrupted by shifts in time and emotion, because, as Tony confirmed, this was real. What is about to happen here will happen again, and again, for the duration of time and space. It is memory manifest. Tony, when consumed by the glory of technology, sometimes reminds himself that evil encompasses innovation, as well. The girl goes still at the end of the sequence of words, shedding her blanket and walking, smooth as steel, to the middle of the room. She is naked. Unobscured, she looks older. Her body, though thin, is taunt and developed- not a girl, but a young woman. A gaunt, blank young woman. In the light, her pale skin is akin to untrodden snowfall.

As the voice behind the camera talks, Natasha translates. “Stand and present, soldier,” Natasha speaks to the group. The girl on the hologram raises her hand to solute. The motion is rigid, practiced. Now that she’s closer to the camera, bruises and flesh-wounds appear on her body. Untrodden no more. Purple lacerations encircle her wrists and ankles like bracelets of cruelty. One eye is swollen shut, her lips swelling to match. Most starkly, though, are two open wounds in the center of her feet. They’re half-healed and leaking half-coagulated, jellied blood.

Steve, now risen to Bucky’s side, strides towards Tony. “Not here, Tony,” he whispers, “The twins-the party shouldn’t see this. Turn it off.” Tony, unmoved, continues to watch the hologram.

“It’s almost over,” he whispers, eyes unmoving.

A hand stretches into the frame, spear-headed by a handgun. The disembodied hand presses the gun to the girl’s temple. Natasha continues her translation as the figure with the gun speaks, “Show them what I gave you.” The girl remains unmoved. The gun presses deeper into the flesh of her skull, pushing her head to one side. “Show them,” Natasha translates. The girl’s long, pale hair trails down her body, covering her breasts. The hand without the gun reaches forward, caressing her neck and pushing the hair behind her shoulders. A masked face leans into view, the owner of the gun and of the hands, whispering against the girl’s neck.

“Natasha?” Bucky demands, his voice cold.

“I didn’t hear it- too quiet,” Natasha snaps back.

The hologram continues. “Turn it off,” Steve commands, his voice dipping to the timbre of a plea.

The words the masked man whispered hit their mark. The girl, as if unchained, lurches away, pain corrupting the integrity of her voice as she demands, “What did you say?” Shuffling sounds behind the camera. Someone mutters the word “дефектный ” from behind the lens. It takes Natasha a moment to find the English equivalent; “Defective.”

Roused, the girl screams the same words, covering her chest with her hands. “What did you say!” She shouts, the receptor of her fury a figure beyond the camera. A thick embroidery of overlapping voices quilts itself over her words- so many voices that Natasha stops translating. The girls eyes scan in wild, erratic patterns beyond the lens. She backs up to the rear wall, pressing herself into the steel.

The voices build, figures enter from stage left and stage right, guns trained on the girl’s bare, pale body. And then a glow, orange and bright, builds from her skin. Her eyes, once darkened by the overhead light, glow white. The same light pours from her mouth as her caves into herself, lowering her body to the floor, and screams. The sound stops, an eruption of orange light, and the hologram dies- drawn curtain, end scene.

As if the holographic explosion had occurred right beside them, the entire room felt devoid of air. The party raged on behind them, the revelers indifferent to the sombre mood, like a cloak, drawn over the Avengers. Cutting the settled tension, Bucky states, “That was Hyrda procedure- the words, the- the audience.” Tony felt his stomach roil. They were the audience. They just watched that girl stripped naked, the barrel of a gun pressed into her temple.

“But it’s Dreykov’s personnel and facility. I’d recognize that room if I were dead,” Natasha added.

Shaking himself from his horror-induced stupor, Tony clapped his hands together. “Fury sent it in. Video dates to January 1st, 2014- two years ago.” Tony taps on his watch, whispering incoherently into it. Suddenly, a light, female voice echoes through the tower.

“Tony Stark and his Avengers thank you for coming to celebrate, the party has ended. Please make your way to the exits.” With Friday’s announcement, the music stops, the lights turn on, and a conglomeration of feet shuffling ensues. Tony turns, waving with winks and smiles, thanking the visitors.

Silence hangs in suffocating drapes. Bucky had left silently, unnoticed. Steve stared at the table, arms crossed, lost in thought. Natasha looked on the brink of destruction. All around, worry and disgust colored all faces.

Steve cleared his throat and uncrossed his arms.

“Captain?” Tony asks, voicing the inner monologue of the entire gathering.

Captain America meets the gaze of the group, bracing his hands on the back of the sofa. His blue eyes have cooled with concentration- icy and pale. His voice is full and hard when he speaks.

“We go get her, Thanos can’t have access to any more stones. And Hyrda can’t have access to any more soldiers.” His voice dips on the word solider, pain making the pronunciation malleable, bruising the letters as they come from Steve’s throat. He swallows, his throat bobbing against the top button of his blue shirt.

“Suit up.”

January 3rd, 2016. Red Room Interrogation Center. Moscow, Russia. 8:24 am.

The red-haired bitch wouldn’t crack, Lux would give her that. She was hard. But Lux was harder.

She smiled, digging the white lighter from her coat pocket. Normally, she didn’t enjoy the stench of charred flesh this early in the morning, but she’d make an exception today. It was a new year, after all.

Lux rolled her thumb over the wheel once, twice- inhaling the smell of butane as she held town the lighter’s trigger, rolling the flame over the metal cap. When the cap glowed red, she brushed her fingertip over it, a hiss of pain slipping from her lips. As her fingerprints had been singed off long ago, the reception of pain indicated the lighter was ready. The red-head tied to the chair in front of her grinned. Her teeth were white and straight and beautiful- Lux was struck by the sight. Nobody with such a beautiful smile had entered her chair in a long while.

“вы говорите по-английски?” Lux asked, straddling the chair positioned across from the woman’s. Romanov, her file had read. A Black Widow. Lux was surprised when she saw the title- she had yet to encounter one of Dreykov’s original creations. Like discontinued toys, Black Widows had gone out of circulation.

“Why? Is your Russian a little rusty?” Romanov shot back, her smile never dimming.

Lux smiled back, self conscious of her teeth. She hadn’t been allowed to see her reflection in years, but she doubted her smile shone as bright. A stupid, flippant thought- Lux scolded herself for allowing it to enter her mind. Especially here, and especially now. She knew they watched her through the cameras in each corner of the room. She knew she was a being assessed, still, two years later- they didn’t trust her.

“No,” Lux drawled, “I prefer English, though. It’s the first language I spoke.” Lux breathed deeply, hoping the detail wasn’t too intimate. She knows the technique. Show some emotional skin, establish a rapport, create some common ground, and then rip it right from under their feet.

Romanov tilts her head, her swath of red hair shifting around her beautiful face. “Oh?” She asks, the light-toned pronunciation of curiosity tinging the end of the word. “You’re American?”

Lux shakes her head, flicking the lighter once again, which was cool to the touch. She curses herself in her head. She’s wasting too much time. The dance is awkward, stalled. It isn’t flowing, like she was trained. She is failing, miserably. Her back tenses at the thought of her punishment. Dr. Von Arx was getting more creative every day.

“You aren’t,” Lux chirps, looking up from her lighter. “Ro-man-ov.” She lets the syllables drip off her tongue, luxuriating in the sounds. “Are you enjoying your homecoming? Dreykov is excited to see you- Prodigal Son you are. But they insisted I give you the run-down first. You understand, of course.” Lux punctuated her words with a wink. Abandoning her chair, Lux rises above Romanov, gripping her jaw in a leather-gloved hand and forcing her head backward. The lighter glowed ounce again in her hand.

Hovering just above the surface of her jugular, Lux moved the lighter back and forth, letting the heat kiss Romanov’s skin. “I am going to ask you one more time, why did you come?”

Just as the lighter moves to melt the surface of Natasha’s skin, the wall explodes.

Lux sees white, and then feels the burning of her skin. She believes in karma, but had never seen it work this fast. Covering her head, Lux waits for the rumble of debris and destruction to stop. As soon as rocks ceases to fall and the ringing subsides in her ears, Lux is on her feet, two knives in hands. Damn Von Arx from not allowing her a gun.

Dust fills the room, along with cold, grey sunlight from the hole in the north-facing wall. The scream of sirens fills the void the ringing left in Lux’s, ears and a figure in black fills the void Romanov left in the room.

He’s male. Tall. Long brown hair drapes his face, which is half-obscured by a black mask. He carries a large gun in one arm, and the other-

Lux blanches, forcing her jellied knees to lock, to keep her upright. Something shifts within her. Like a root, deep and established, being torn from the earth, everything inside Lux shifts as a memory is tugged from her.

Blood, blood, so much blood. It pools around her, spilling from her sister’s small body. Astoria. Astoria. As-tor-i-a.

Clinging to the name, branding the syllables into her mind, Lux swears to herself that she wont forget. That she will not let them take the memory. Her twin, her Astoria.

Suddenly, the man’s presence loses its edge. Lux throws her knife, sinking it into the man’s thigh. He pulls the knife, sending it clattering through the rubble. Lux’s next knife lands in the apex of his left shoulder, and when she hears and thud, instead of a clang, Lux knows she’s hit her target. The man grunts, stopping his affront to tear the knife out. Lux turns to run, but not before a red gas fills the room. She throws her sleeve up to cover her mouth, but it’s too late.

Lux falls to her knees, a heavy, thick warmth pressing itself into the contours of her consciousness. She’s tired, so damn tired. The soldier kneels before her and something in her chest leaps at the deep blue of his eyes. She repeats the name Astoria, Astoria, Astoria, like a prayer, like a incantation that could protect her from him.

Lux isn’t afraid. She’s seen The Winter Solider at work. Let him do his worst. She would happily die cloaked in the sweet memory of her sister, her greatest, newfound possession. Let him try to take it from her again.

A ragged, joyful laugh escapes Lux’s hoarse throat. She feels her grip on the moment, on sight and sound, feel and taste, loosening. The Winter Solider lifts her from the ground and she has no strength to fight. A funny, light sensation trickles over her skin. She laughs again, harder, this time.

“You’re amused, Dioscuri?” The Solider above her asks as she slips into the thick, warm current of sleep.

“I just-“ Another giggle. “I just think it’s a joke, you’re carrying me. Who knew The Winter Solider” another giggle, “was a gentleman. I mean- you shot Astoria.” Lux wheezes into the Soldier’s chest. Who would have thought he’d be carrying her, bridal style, away from Dreykov. Moscow’s winter chill caresses her body and Lux shivers, burrowing into the iconic heat of the Soldier’s body. The hum of propellers envelopes her.

Lux can’t control her laughter. Her body convulses against the Solider’s chest as wave after wave of laughter ravages her. Here, in his arms, she thinks she might be in Hell. Or at least some damning, liminal space- away for Von Arx but out of the reach of Astoria.

The volume of propellers increases and the humor of the moment fades to misery. She’ll die here, she thinks. Wherever the Winter Solider is taking her, she will die.

Chapter Two:

[m-cristiny]

Iron Man ⚙️

[huffelpuff210]

His Obsession Part 2

Chapter 2

Warning: Kidnapping, drugging, aggressive behavior, forced relationship, forced marriage. Mentions of past abuse

You’re heavy eyelids slowly flutter open, You don’t recognize the room, It’s was modern with a little bit of a barn look to it, gray walls, Barn looking furniture and A wooden bed frame, You slowly sit up You look down you are still in you’re scrubs, the bed was huge, with dusted red colored bed sheets and blankets, You’re head hurt as you were trying to make sense of what happened the door opens, You see then man you ran into a few weeks ago. He hand a glass of juice in his hand, 

“Morning sweetheart,” He says with a smile 

You were extremely confused he was smiling at you as if what had happened was completely normal. 

He chuckled I guess the look on you’re face told him everything. He set the glass on the end table. 

“I guess you have a few questions.” He chuckles 

“First off I am James Barnes but everyone calls me Bucky, I am the boss of the Mafia they call me the king of New York.” He says 

You’re eyes widen realizing why he looked so familiar, 

“Why did you bring me here?” You asked 

He smirked 

“Because I think it’s about time to settle down with someone.” He says smiling at me

You’re eyes widen 

“W-Why me?” You asked 

“Because you weren’t afraid of me.” He says his hand on you’re cheek

“You can’t do this,” You say 

He grips you’re chin, 

“I can an will.” He says smiling down at you 

“I’ll call the police.” You say glaring at him 

“Go ahead doll, this entire city is under my control, no matter who you call, I guarantee they are on my pay roll.” He says 

“No matter where you run I will find you.” He says smirking down at you

He forces you to you’re feet where you’re feet almost give out. he easily catches you. 

“Easy doll,” He says smirking down at you 

“You’re probably still under the effects of the sedative.” He says You just give him a really looking knowing he’s the one who forced you to you’re feet. 

“Now listen closely you are going to do as I say when I say it.” He says 

You glare at him. 

“And if I don’t?” You ask

“There will be consequences.” He says 

“Punishments to be exact.” He says 

His hands skimming over you’re sides 

His thumb pulling you’re lower lip down. 

“But if you’re good you get rewarded.” He says kissing the side of you’re neck. 

You try to push him away but he doesn’t budge. You don’t know what came over you but you Kneed him between the legs and right hooked him and sprang to you’re feet, sprinting out of the room and out of the house, there was nothing for miles as you took in you’re surroundings You shook you’re head and ran towards the woods it would be harder for him to find you. It would be you’re best chance to get away all you knew was you needed to get away from him, King of New York or not you were not giving in to a power hungry powerful man like him, He knew people and by the looks of it he got what he wanted and no one says no to him. You keep running twigs and leaves crunching under you’re bare feet. You look over you’re shoulder to see if anyone is following you. You only see one man, He’s big like James and tall, he’s got sandy blonde hair, You trip only to roll down an embankment rolling the world spinning as you roll grunting as you hit rocks, twigs and branches, once you stop rolling you realize you are on a road, you pick a direction and start sprinting, you see a car and flag it down asking frantically for a ride into town, the driver happily takes you. Only then you realize you are able to breath only then do you see the man that was chasing you talking on the phone glaring at you from behind the vehicle as he get smaller and smaller the further the car drives. You knew this wasn’t going to be easy but you knew you had to run. to do everything in you’re power to stay away from James who wanted a different fate than you wanted. You knew it was going to be a challenge, But if you learned anything from you’re stepfather is running was something you were very good at.