#tony wonder energy

[sciderman]

And like THAT we learned the cast for MCUs Fantastic Four and by extent.....Johnny Storm *shudders* God save us all from the Mouse and from how fucked the Johnny Storm (and also SpideyTorch) tag is gonna be once the movie comes out.

we are going to get SO MUCH johnny storm porn lads

[loveinhawkins]

The sun is annoying Steve Harrington. Eddie knows this because the blinds in English class are notoriously shitty—have been ever since David C yanked the cord, so the sun always manages to get through the gaps.

Steve is squinting against it, the glare shining right in his eyes. Eddie can’t figure out why he doesn’t just move; he’s watched Steve battle with the blinds throughout the class, but it didn’t change much, no matter which way they were tilted.

Now Steve’s just stuck with a permanent frown, like he’s accepted his fate—or maybe he’s preparing for a grand finale, Eddie muses, not very seriously, like maybe the blinds should be writing their last will and testa—

“Dude, what’s your problem?”

It’s murmured so the substitute’s none the wiser. Still, the lack of volume doesn’t detract from the tone: Steve’s gone from annoyed to royally—ha ha, Eddie thinks stupidly—pissed off.

He considers replying with false pity, Oh, Harrington, I’ve got too many problems to count, but for some reason he can’t muster up enough energy for the performance. He manages a quip all the same, muted as it is—he’s got no desire to get detention again.

“Nothing. Just wondering if you’re gonna set fire to the blinds.”

Surprisingly, Steve laughs—or he laughs as much as someone can when they’re supposed to be silently reading. He gives a rueful look to the offending window, and it’s a damn shame really, that the sun’s making him squint, because otherwise his eyes would be all lit up and—woah, absolutely not, stop that train of thought right there.

“I’m this close, honestly,” Steve says, showing just how close he is with his thumb and forefinger.

And perhaps it’s simply the way he does it, the genuine flash of his grin, like he’s not worried about what he looks like; maybe the contrast makes Eddie realise that he’s been kinda serious for a while now, frowning even when the sun isn’t in his eyes.

What are you thinking about?

The question’s crossed Eddie’s mind more than once: chance sightings in the cafeteria, as the Nancy Wheeler love story came and went—but they still smile at each other, so it can’t be just that; his gut keeps telling him there’s something more, something he’s not…

But it’s none of his business, and he doesn’t know Steve like that, not nearly enough to ask.

So he tilts back in his seat, holds a book aloft like he’s trying for a Tony. In the newfound shade, Steve rolls his eyes with amusement, “You’re gonna fall.”

“You wish, Harrington,” Eddie says.

A few seconds more, and the teacher’s gonna notice, will snap at Eddie to read his book instead of waving it about.

But for now, all that matters is Steve’s smiling instead of frowning.

[natsaffection]

One step at a time. | N.R

Natasha x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha and the team help you cope with the loss of your leg.

Warnings: Detailed description of loss/Grief and mental health issues

Word count: 3,9k

A/n: Had something in mind..✨

The Tower was already buzzing with activity. It was rare for everyone to be together, but when they were, the Tower seemed to vibrate with energy. At the center of it all was you, the bright and lively soul who illuminated even the darkest corners of the team.

You had a way about you that drew people in. Your infectious laughter could lift the heaviest spirits, and your smile seemed to spread warmth. Your optimism and unwavering positivity were like a beacon, guiding your teammates through their toughest times. Everyone admired you, but no one more so than Natasha Romanoff.

Natasha was always the stoic warrior, rarely showing her emotions. But you had effortlessly broken down those walls. With your steadfast support and genuine kindness, you became Natasha’s closest confidante and, although she would never say it out loud, the anchor of her heart.

This morning was no exception. You bounced into the common room, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "Good morning, everyone!" you called out, your voice like a melody echoing down the hall.

Tony, tinkering with a new gadget, looked up and grinned. "Well, if it isn’t our sunshine," he teased, causing the rest of the team to laugh.

You made your way to the kitchen, where Steve was pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Morning, Cap," you said cheerfully, reaching for a cup for yourself. "What’s on the agenda today?"

Steve smiled, appreciating your tireless positivity. "Just a meeting in a bit. But first, breakfast. You know the drill."

As you were about to sit down with the others at the table, Natasha came in from her morning training. The moment she saw you, her expression softened. "Hey," she greeted, kissing you on the cheek.

You beamed at her. "Nat! I was just getting some coffee. Want some?" Natasha nodded, a rare smile tugging at her lips. "Thanks, I could use it."

Days in the Tower were often filled with training sessions, meetings, and occasional sparring matches. You had a knack for brightening even the most mundane activities. You organized movie nights, cooked meals for the team, and always found time to lend an ear. Your favorite spot was the rooftop garden, where you often pulled Natasha to relax and enjoy the view.

One evening, as you lay in the garden, you asked Natasha, "Do you ever wonder if we make a difference?" Your eyes reflected the sparkling stars. Natasha was surprised by the question. "Of course we do," she replied firmly. "Every life we save, every fight we win, it all counts."

You smiled, a small, wistful smile. "I know. Sometimes it just feels like there’s so much darkness. It’s nice to have a reminder that there’s still light." In that moment, Natasha realized how much you meant to her. She placed a hand on your shoulder. "You are that light. Never forget that."

Your laughter snapped Natasha out of her thoughts. She watched as you interacted with the team, your eyes full of warmth and kindness. Moments like these filled Natasha’s heart with emotions she had long buried. She felt a protective urge towards you, a desire to shield you from the harsh realities of the world.

"Nat, you’re awfully quiet this morning," Clint, ever the observant Hawkeye, gently teased. "What’s on your mind?" Natasha offered a rare, genuine smile. "Just enjoying the moment," she replied, her gaze meeting yours again, making her heart swell with joy.

The mission seemed straightforward on paper: infiltrate an old HYDRA facility, gather intel, and get out. They had done it a hundred times. But as they moved through the dark, abandoned corridors, an eerie feeling spread.

"Stay alert," Steve's voice crackled through their earpieces. "Something doesn’t feel right." Eager to help, you moved up with Natasha. "I’ve got your back." you said, flashing a confident smile. "Just stay close to me," Natasha responded, her protective instincts kicking in.

They advanced cautiously, each step echoing through the silence. Tony’s scanners were active, searching for hidden threats. Suddenly, a blip on the radar caught his attention. "We’ve got movement," he announced. "Southwest corner, two floors down."

Steve gave the signal to move in. They split into pairs, covering each other's backs as they navigated the labyrinthine building. You and Natasha moved with practiced precision, your trust in each other evident in your fluid movements.

"How many are we dealing with?" you asked, scanning the shadows. "Looks like a small group," Tony replied. "Shouldn't be a big deal."

"Famous last words," Natasha muttered, making you laugh. As they reached the designated area, the building began to tremble. The walls shook, and the ceiling cracked. "It’s a trap!" Tony shouted, but it was too late. The structure collapsed around them.

"Y/N, Watch out!" Natasha called as debris began to fall. They dodged the larger pieces, but in the chaos, you were separated from the group. You called out, your voice filled with fear but still hopeful. "Nat! Tony! Where are you?"

A beam crashed down in front of you, blocking your path. You turned to find another exit, but it was too late. A massive steel beam, loosened by the collapsing structure, fell toward you. You tried to dodge, but it struck your left leg, pinning you to the ground.

Pain shot through your body, intense and unrelenting. You screamed, a sound that echoed through the collapsing building. The team heard your cry and fought through the rubble to reach you.

Natasha found you first. Her heart sank at the sight of you, trapped under the beam, blood pooling around you. "Hey, I’m here," she called, her voice trembling with uncharacteristic emotion.

"I-It hurts so much," you gasped, tears streaming down your face. "I can’t move.."

"It’s going to be okay. We’ll get you out of here. Just stay with me, okay, detka?" Natasha said, her voice calm despite the panic she felt inside.

The rest of the team arrived, and together they managed to lift the beam just enough to pull you free. They rushed you back to the Tower, the urgency of the situation weighing heavily on them.

In the medical wing, the doctors took over immediately, wheeling you into surgery. The team waited outside, the air thick with tension and worry. Natasha paced back and forth, unable to sit still, her mind filled with fear and guilt.

Hours seemed to stretch into eternity. Finally, the doors to the OR opened and Dr. Cho approached the worried group. Natasha stepped forward. "How is she?" she asked, her voice barely steady.

Cho sighed, pulling down her mask. "She’s stable, but the damage to her leg was severe. We did everything we could, but we couldn’t save it. We had to amputate above the knee."

The words hit Natasha like a punch to the gut. She nodded slowly, trying to process the information. "Can I see her?"

"She’s still unconscious," Cho said gently. "But you can be there when she wakes up." Natasha nodded again and followed Cho to your room. She sat by your bed, holding your hand and whispering comforting words. When you finally began to stir, Natasha’s heart pounded in her chest.

Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked around groggily. "Nat?" you murmured, your voice weak. "I’m here, Y/N," Natasha said softly, squeezing your hand. "I’m right here."

You smiled weakly, your eyes beginning to clear. But then you noticed the expression on Natasha’s face, a mix of relief and something else you couldn’t quite place. "What’s wrong? I’m okay, I’m here.." you asked, a hint of fear creeping into your voice.

Natasha struggled to find the words, her throat tight with emotion. Before she could speak, Cho stepped in, her face serious as she chose her words carefully. "Your leg was severely damaged by the beam... Y/N, we did everything we could to save it, but… it wasn’t enough."

"What do you mean?" Your eyes widened, your breath catching. "I’m so sorry. We had to amputate your leg above the knee." Your face went pale, your voice trembling. "My leg… it’s gone?"

Cho nodded, her eyes full of compassion. "Yes. I know it’s incredibly hard to hear. I’m truly sorry."

The room fell into silence. You continued to stare at her, your mind overwhelmed by the news. "W-What..?" you whispered, shaking your head. "No.. I.. I can feel it, that-" throwing off the blanket, your eyes widening in disbelief at the empty space where your leg used to be.

You tried to move it, but it wasn’t there. The realization hit you like a tidal wave. You said nothing, just stared at the empty space, your hands trembling.

Natasha leaned closer, her voice full of empathy. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. We’re here for you. I'm here for you.“

But you were in shock, unable to fully grasp the reality of your situation. Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to cope with your loss. Natasha stayed by your side, holding your hand and offering what comfort she could, knowing this was just the beginning of a long and difficult journey for both of you.

The days in the medical wing were a whirlwind of pain, medication, and the constant hum of machines. You lay in bed, your eyes often vacant as you stared at the sterile white ceiling. Your once bright smile was gone, replaced by a hollow expression that pained everyone who visited.

Natasha was a constant presence by your side. She held your hand, whispered comforting words, and even tried to coax a faint smile from you. But you were distant, your light dimmed by the weight of your loss.

One afternoon, Steve and Tony visited you, bringing a bouquet of colorful flowers. "Hey, sunshine," Tony greeted, his usual confidence tempered by concern. "We brought you something to brighten up this place."

You glanced at the flowers and managed a small nod. "Thank you," you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Steve sat on the edge of your bed, his eyes full of empathy. "How are you holding up?" You forced a smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes. "I’m okay, Steve. Just... tired."

They all knew you weren’t okay. The vibrant, happy Y/N they all loved was disappearing, and it broke their hearts to see you like this.

As the days turned into weeks, the team visited you regularly. Clint brought your favorite snacks, books to keep your mind occupied. But despite their efforts, you remained distant, a shadow of your former self.

One evening, as Natasha sat by your bed, she gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. "You know, it’s okay to not be okay," she said softly.

Your eyes filled with tears. "I don’t know how to be myself anymore," you admitted, your voice breaking. "Everything feels different. I feel different."

Natasha’s heart ached for you. She leaned in closer, resting her forehead against yours. "We’ll find a new normal, Y/N. Together. You’re still you, and you still mean the world to us."

Finally, the day came when you were discharged from the medical wing. The team gathered to bring you home, their faces a mix of relief and concern. As they helped you into the wheelchair, Natasha knelt beside you. "Ready to go home?" she asked, trying to sound hopeful.

You nodded, but the sadness in your eyes was unmistakable. "Yes. Let’s go."

Back at the Tower, the atmosphere was subdued. You moved through the halls with a quiet distance, no longer organizing movie nights or cooking meals. Most of your time was spent in your room, avoiding the rooftop garden you once loved.

The team watched helplessly as you withdrew further. Your laughter, once a joyful sound that echoed through the Tower, was now a distant memory. You no longer greeted anyone with your usual cheerfulness, and the light in your eyes had gone out.

Natasha was the most affected. She missed the Y/N who pulled her to the garden to watch the sunset, who made her laugh with silly jokes, who had become her rock. She tried to reach you, to break through the wall you had built around yourself, but it was like trying to catch smoke with her hands.

One morning, Cho informed Natasha that it was time to remove your bandages. "It’s common for patients to need emotional support when they see their stump for the first time," she explained gently. "It would be helpful if you could be there for her."

Natasha nodded, understanding the gravity of the moment. She entered your room, finding you standing by the window. "Hey," she said softly, closing the door behind her.

You turned around, surprise flickering across your face. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I’d sit with you while Cho removes the bandages," Natasha replied, trying to sound casual.

"I don’t need you," you said, your voice rising with frustration. "I can do this on my own."

Natasha shook her head, her expression determined. "I’m staying, Y/N. No arguments."

You glared at her, but Natasha’s resolve didn’t waver. Finally, you sighed in resignation. "Fine. Do what you want."

Cho entered and began the careful process of removing the bandages. You kept your eyes fixed on the ceiling, determined not to look. Natasha held your hand, offering silent comfort.

As the last layer of bandage was removed, you caught a glimpse of your stump out of the corner of your eye. Your breath caught, and you turned your head, unable to avoid it any longer. The sight of your leg..or what was left of it, triggered a wave of nausea and despair.

You tried to hold back your tears, biting your lip until it bled. But the emotional dam broke, and you began to sob uncontrollably. "I-Ican’t do this... I can’t live like.. t-this..."

Natasha pulled you into a tight embrace, her own tears falling silently. "You can, Y/N. And you will. We’ll get through this together, I promise."

You clung to her, your sobs shaking your entire body. Cho, seeing the emotional toll, finished quickly and quietly left the room. The team, waiting just outside, could hear your cries, their own hearts breaking for their friend. They knew they couldn’t fix this for you, but they would be there every step of the way, offering support as best they could.

The days that followed were some of the hardest you had ever faced. You were engulfed by a whirlwind of emotions, grief, anger, and a deep sense of loss. The team continued to give you space, but they were never far away, always ready to offer support.

Natasha stayed close, offering a steady presence that you found both comforting and frustrating. It was a delicate balance, and Natasha navigated it with patience and love.

One morning, you woke up to find Tony standing at your door, a wide grin on his face. "Good morning, sunshine. Mind if I come in?"

You sighed and sat up in bed. "What is it, Tony? If it’s more flowers or breakfast in bed, I might scream." Tony laughed. "No flowers. But I have a surprise for you. Something I’ve been working on."

You raised an eyebrow. "I’m not really in the mood for surprises, Tony."

"Trust me, you’ll want to see this," Tony insisted, stepping aside to reveal a sleek, high-tech case. Curiosity piqued, you watched as Tony opened the case to reveal a prosthetic leg, crafted with meticulous precision and advanced technology. It was sleek and metallic, with intricate designs hinting at its capabilities.

"Is that...?" Your voice trailed off, your eyes wide with disbelief.

"Yes," Tony said, his grin widening. "I built it especially for you. It’s got the latest tech. It’s strong, lightweight, and it’s going to help you get back on your feet, well literally."

You stared at the prosthetic, emotions swirling inside you. "Tony, I don’t know what to say."

"How about we start by trying it on?" Tony suggested gently. "Natasha and I will be with you every step of the way." With a mix of apprehension and skepticism, you nodded. "Okay."

The process of fitting the prosthetic was meticulous. Tony and a team of specialists worked carefully to ensure it was comfortable and secure. Natasha stayed by your side, offering silent comfort.

As they adjusted the straps and made final tweaks, a wave of fear washed over you. What if it didn’t work? What if you could never walk properly again?

"Are you ready to try it out?" Tony asked, his tone encouraging.

You took a deep breath and nodded. With the help of Natasha and Tony, you stood up cautiously, feeling the weight of the prosthetic beneath you. It felt foreign, unfamiliar, but it also felt like a new beginning.

"Take it slow," Natasha advised, holding your hand firmly. You took your first tentative steps. It was awkward and shaky, and you nearly stumbled. Frustration and anger bubbled up inside you. "This is impossible," you muttered, your voice tinged with defeat.

"You’re doing great," Tony reassured you. "Just keep going, one step at a time."

You continued, each step harder than the last. The prosthetic felt unnatural, and your movements were jerky and uneven. After a few laps around the room, you stopped, breathless and frustrated.

"I can’t do this," you said, tears of anger and disappointment streaming down your face. "I can’t walk properly. This is useless!"

Natasha stepped in, her eyes flashing with determination and frustration. She cupped your face in her hands, forcing you to look at her. "Now listen to me, Y/N," Natasha said firmly, her voice both angry and urgent. "I know this is hard. I know it’s tougher than anything you’ve ever faced. But you have to keep going! I can’t stand to see you suffering like this!"

You stared at her, shocked by the intensity in her voice.

Natasha continued, her grip gentle but unyielding. "You keep talking down to yourself. But you need to channel that anger where it belongs. At us. At me! We couldn’t get you out of that building in time. I couldn’t get you out in time, be mad at us, but stop tearing yourself apart."

You felt a surge of emotions, anger, determination, and something else, something stronger. You nodded slowly, your tears falling faster. "Okay, Nat. Okay."

The following days were filled with intense training. Tony and the team set up a rehabilitation room, equipped with everything you needed to regain your strength and mobility. Natasha was there for every session, encouraging you and celebrating every small victory.

The training was grueling. You had to learn how to balance again, how to walk with the prosthetic, and how to cope with the physical and emotional challenges. There were moments of intense frustration and doubt when you wanted to throw the prosthetic across the room.

One afternoon, after a particularly hard session, you sat on the floor, sweat dripping from your forehead. "This is so hard," you said, your voice tinged with exhaustion and defeat.

"I know," Natasha replied, sitting next to you. "But you’re doing amazing. Look how far you’ve come." You looked at the prosthetic, your eyes filled with determination and a glimmer of hope. "I just want to feel normal again."

"You will," Natasha assured you. "Step by step."

As the weeks went by, your progress was slow but steady. You became more comfortable with the prosthetic, moving with increasing confidence and grace. The team watched with pride, their admiration for your strength and resilience growing with each passing day.

One evening, after a successful training session, Tony gathered everyone in the common room. "I think we need to celebrate," he announced, holding up a bottle of champagne.

You laughed, the sound bright and clear. "What are we celebrating?"

"Your incredible progress," Tony replied, popping the cork. "To Y/N, the strongest person I know." The team raised their glasses and toasted to you and the journey ahead. You looked around at your family, your heart filled with gratitude and hope.

But despite your progress, you often doubted your worth, especially in your relationship with Natasha.

One night, as you lay in bed together, you couldn’t shake the feelings of inadequacy that gnawed at you. Natasha lay next to you, reading a book, while you stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.

"Natasha," you began hesitantly, your voice barely more than a whisper. Natasha looked up, concern immediately etched on her face. "What’s wrong?"

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your courage. "Do you still find me... attractive?" Natasha frowned in confusion. "Of course I do. Why would you even ask that?"

You turned away, your eyes filling with tears. "I’m not the same person I was before the accident. What if you don’t want me anymore?"

Natasha set her book aside and moved closer, gently turning you to face her. "Y/N, look at me," she said softly. "You’re still the same person I fell in love with. Your strength, your kindness, your spirit..None of that has changed."

You shook your head, your voice trembling. "But my body has changed. I don’t feel like myself anymore. I’m afraid you see me differently."

Natasha cupped your face in her hands, her eyes filled with unwavering love. "Your body may be different, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. You’re beautiful, Y/N, in every way that matters. I love you for who you are, not just for your appearance."

Your tears flowed freely, and you clung to Natasha, your fears slowly dissolving in the warmth of her embrace. "I’m sorry for doubting you," you whispered. "It’s just... sometimes it’s hard."

"I understand," Natasha said gently. "But you’re not alone in this. We’ll get through it together, remember?"

Months had passed since your accident, and your hard work in physical therapy had paid off. With the unwavering support of your team, you had regained your strength and confidence. One morning, you woke up with a renewed sense of purpose. You strapped on your prosthetic and joined the team in the kitchen.

"Morning, Y/N!" Tony greeted you with a broad grin. The entire team was gathered, and Steve stepped forward with a small black box.

"We have something for you," Steve said, handing you the box. You opened it to find a sleek, high-tech communication device. "Is this...?"

"Welcome back to the team," Tony announced. "We’ve got a little mission for you, if you’re ready." You felt a surge of emotions. "I’m ready."

The team briefed you on the mission: a simple reconnaissance at an industrial complex. As they flew to the site, Natasha held your hand, offering silent comfort. Upon arrival, they split into pairs, you and Natasha working together.

As you navigated the complex, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. You encountered a group of armed men, and your training kicked in. With Natasha by your side, you quickly overwhelmed the threat.

"You did it," Natasha said, pride shining in her eyes. "We did it," you replied, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment.

Back in the Quinjet, the team congratulated you. "Welcome back, Y/N," Steve said, clapping you on the shoulder.

You looked around at your teammates, feeling deep gratitude. "I missed this. Thank you all for believing in me." Tony grinned. "We never doubted you for a second."

As you flew back to the Tower, you felt at peace. You had faced your fears and overcome your challenges, stronger than ever before. With the support of your team and Natasha's love, you knew you were ready for whatever the future held.

[chaoticforever]

Remnants of Regret | Tony Stark x Son! Reader

Summary: All Y/n ever wanted was his father’s love. Was that too much to ask?

Y/n sat on the floor in his bedroom, legs crossed, focusing intently on the canvas propped up before him. With a charcoal stick in his hand, Y/n carefully sketched the outline of a cityscape, his e/c eyes narrowed in concentration. His room permeated with the soft scratching of charcoal on canvas, a melody in the air.

Once Y/n finished the final touches and scooted back to examine his piece. One simple word crossed his mind: beautiful.

Since childhood, Y/n has loved drawing, sketching, and painting. He started with simple subjects like trees, flowers, and stars, then progressed to more complex images like people's faces and vehicles. He loved it so much that he pursued an art degree in college, unable to imagine a life not surrounded by art of some kind.

Furthermore, art allowed him to express emotions that words couldn't convey by providing an escape from the chaos of everyday life. It was just him, his brush, and the many possibilities on a canvas.

However, Y/n sometimes wondered if choosing art as his passion was a good idea since his father, Tony Stark, did not seem to appreciate his artistic abilities. Instead, he shifted the appreciation that he should have for Y/n to someone else.

Peter Parker.

See, Y/n Stark is the type of guy who preferred music and painting to building suits and technology that Tony loved so much, which only seemed to widen the gap between father and son. Tony didn’t seem to have much time for his son but made sure to have lots of time for Peter, who shared Tony's love for technology.

Y/n couldn’t help but feel jealous as he watched his dad always dote on Peter, offering him opportunities and praise that Y/n craved. But he seemed to have little time or patience for his artistic son.

He placed his finished piece on his desk and started putting away his sketching utensils. Just then, he heard a knock on his open door and turned around to see that Steve was standing in the doorway. Y/n smiled when he saw Steve. Besides Tony, Steve was his favorite Avenger. He sometimes acted more of a parent than the one currently in his life and the guys both bonded over their love for drawing.

"Hey, Steve. How was the mission?"

"Tiring. Dealing with rogue mutants can certainly take a toll on me," Steve replied, his eyes suddenly drifting to Y/n's newly crafted sketch, "Nice drawing Y/n. Is this for your end-of-semester art project?"

Y/n nodded his head in confirmation. "Yes, my professor wanted the class to draw something that represents our unique perspective on the world."

"And what perspective is that?"

Y/n paused to think about that question. "I guess... It's my view of the world as an artist. The world is full of life and energy, but there's also darkness and shadows. It's a reminder that beauty and struggles coexist. Nothing can ever change that."

Steve nodded, tracing the bold lines and subtle shading. "That’s an interesting yet accurate perspective. I am proud of you. You’re going to do great things one day."

A small smile appeared on Y/n’s face. He may not have gotten his dad’s praise, but he was happy that someone praised his artistic abilities and told him that he was proud of him. It warmed his heart.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me."

"You’re welcome. By the way, we’re having a group dinner tonight. We’ll be having lasagna, so bring your appetite."

Y/n grinned. He loved the soldier's cooking, especially when it was a dinner meal. It was so much better than eating takeout. "Oh, I'll be there, and y'all better hope that it all doesn’t get eaten by me."

Steve laughed before pivoting on his heel and leaving. Y/n watched as the soldier's retreating figure disappeared down the hall before turning back to his sketch, contentment washing over him.

As Y/n admired his work, his thoughts drifted back to his father. He knew that Tony loved him in his own way, but their relationship had always been strained. Tony’s focus on technology and his busy lifestyle, along with mentoring Peter, left little room for the two to hang out or for Tony to understand Y/n's passion for art.

But now, Y/n was determined to fix their relationship. After all, he lost his mother over a decade ago, and his father was the only blood family that he had left. He didn’t want their relationship to continue to be strained, and if Tony could make room for Peter in his life, then he could make some room for his biological son.

With that thought in mind, the e/c-eyed male headed to the private elevator that would take him to Tony’s workshop. And as he rounded the corner, he bumped into Rhodey, whom Y/n often looked up to as well. They greeted each other with their signature handshake that was only made for them two before Rhodey took off, explaining that he had a meeting to attend with a council member, and Y/n continued his journey to the workshop.

When he arrived at Tony's workshop, he saw his father standing next to his work bench, typing on his phone. Behind Tony, there was his Iron Man suit, opened up. Y/n figured that he just stepped out of it.

"Hey, Dad." Y/n greeted politely, crossing the room to give Tony a one-armed hug.

Surprisingly, Y/n's father did reciprocate the hug but didn’t even bother to look up at his son when he greeted him. He just kept his brown eyes glued to the phone in his hand. "Y/n. How was your day?"

"It was good. Classes were pretty light today, and I mostly just worked on my end-of-the-semester project for art class." Y/n explained, hoping that Tony would ask him more follow-up questions, such as what piece Y/n decided to draw or if he could see the work for himself. However, all Tony gave was a curt nod, still typing on that phone of his. So, Y/n cleared his throat and switched topics: "Dad, do you want to hang out this Saturday? There’s this art showing at the museum, and—"

"An art showing?" Tony finally looked up from his phone, his eyes flicking briefly to his son’s face before returning to the screen. "Sorry, kid, but I have meetings this Saturday. Besides, I’d rather watch paint dry than look at old paintings. You know that I’m more of a technology and engineering kind of guy than an art one."

Y/n's shoulders drooped, and he tried to hide the disappointment he felt. "Yeah, I know. I just thought maybe you’d want to spend some time together. It’s been a minute since we did something like that."

Tony seemed oblivious to Y/n's reaction, continuing to tap away at his phone. "Well, we’ve been busy. You're busy with college, and I'm busy with SI and saving the world, two full-time jobs for me," he put his phone down on the desk, finally giving Y/n his full attention. "But you’re right, we haven’t hung out in a long time. How about we go see that new Outlast movie that’s coming out next weekend?"

Y/n nodded, a small smile coming onto his face. Even though it wasn’t what he wanted to do, he was just happy to have some father-son time with his dad. And more importantly, it was without Peter.

"That sounds good to me. I can’t wait."

Y/n turned around and prepared to leave the room, excitement fluttering in his chest, just as Tony got a phone call from Peter. Y/n stood there for a moment and listened to how Tony asked Peter when he would be coming over and that Tony cleared the rest of his schedule today to help Peter with his last semester project.

The h/c-haired son frowned, feeling the excitement he felt a couple seconds ago disappear and the raw disappointment return. So, Tony can clear his schedule for Peter and make time for him, but he can't make time for his biological son?

It was ridiculous.

But Y/n had to remind himself that it was okay. Peter could have that time with his father all he wanted to today because next weekend, the two Starks would be spending some time together.

Feeling satisfied, Y/n left the workshop and returned to his room. It turned out that he had two things to look forward to: lasagna and the movies next week.

He couldn’t wait.

XXXXX XXXXX

The days passed slowly, but finally, the long-awaited Saturday finally arrived. It was the day of the planned outing with Y/n and his father, a day Y/n had been looking forward to. He hoped this would be a turning point in their relationship, a chance to bridge the gap that seemed to widen between them every passing day.

Now, he was getting ready in his room, choosing a casual outfit of jeans and a T-shirt. He knew that, even though it was April, the weather was rather cool with it being sixty-five degrees outside. That made him add a blue jacket to his outfit.

After checking himself out in the mirror, he walked down the hall to the common area, where Tony had told him to meet. As he walked down the hall, he hoped that the horror movie they were going to see would be good. The trailer did look promising but they can also be deceitful.

Y/n rounded the corner and entered the common area, where the Avengers were watching a movie and enjoying a spread of pizzas, popcorn, nachos, and cheese fries. Thor was the only one who wasn’t here since he went to Asgard for a few days. He noticed they were watching the first "Back to the Future," a classic Steve had promised to watch at the next team movie night after Y/n discovered that he had never seen that movie series before.

Guess he finally listened, Y/n thought as he looked around the room and noticed something that he had failed to notice.

His dad was nowhere to be found.

"Hey, has anyone seen my dad?" Y/n asked, looking over the team of heroes.

"Yeah, he left. You just missed him too." Clint answered, his fingers reaching into the popcorn bowl that was in his lap and shoving some popcorn into his mouth.

Y/n frowned. What? "Left? Left where?"

"He said that he was taking Peter to the science fair." Steve munched on a pizza.

The college student's heart sank and his shoulders sagged, feeling disappointed. So, his father had forgotten about their plans. Again. And it was for Peter. Again.

"Oh," was all Y/n could manage to utter. He knew that he should be used to this, but it still stung every time it happened.

Natasha, sensing the disappointment in Y/n's timbre, glanced over at him. "You didn't know he was going out with Peter."

That was a statement, not a question. Natasha had always been perceptive.

"No, no, I did," Y/n backpedaled, forcing a grin. He didn't understand why he was protecting his father, but he just wanted this conversation to end. "I just forgot, but you telling me made me remember."

Y/n knew he was a terrible liar, and he didn't sound convincing. He knew they didn't believe him, considering Steve's frown, Bruce's concerned look, and the looks shared between Clint and Natasha.

Bruce grabbed the remote and paused the movie. "Look, why don't you join us, Y/n? You can finish the movie with us."

"Yeah, come on, Y/n!" Sam piped up. "We've got plenty of food, and we were just about to start a game of charades."

Y/n glanced at the team of superheroes. While he appreciated their invitation, he had been looking forward to spending time with his dad, so he shook his head but still kept the forced smile on his features. "Thank you guys, but I think I'll just head back to my room. Next time."

The h/c-haired male turned around and left the main area, frustration nagging at his insides. When he got to his room, he flopped down on his bed, back pressed against it as he stared up at the ceiling.

He didn’t understand.

Why did Tony continue to treat him as an afterthought? And what the hell was so damn special about Peter? Why did he always have to be the recipient of his father’s love? He couldn’t help but feel like he was always playing second fiddle to the guy who was two years younger than him. It was ridiculous to be jealous of someone younger than him, but Y/n couldn’t help himself. It hurt so much that his father favored Peter over him.

Y/n pulled out his phone, intending to call his dad when he got a notification from Instagram that his dad had posted a pic. He clicked on it and found himself staring at an image of his dad with Peter.

The caption read: Peter will take over my company someday. #prouddadmoment.

Proud dad moment...?

Peter wasn’t even his actual son and Y/n couldn’t stand the way his dad looked at Peter with such praise. What can I do to make him look at me like that one time?

And before Y/n knew it, his cheeks were pelted with water, and he just realized at that moment that he was crying. The tears fell to his cheeks before dropping onto the bed, but Y/n wiped his cheeks angrily since he shouldn’t allow this to make him sad. But it was so hard not to.

His e/c eyes drifted to the photo that was on his side table. He reached for it and picked it up. It was a photo of his mom. Y/n allowed his finger to run over his mom’s smiling face in the picture. It’s times like this when he wishes that she was still alive. At least then, he’d have a parent in his life who cared about him.

Suddenly, a knock came from his door.

"Come in," Y/n called out, setting down the photo back on his desk. He wished that it was his father knocking on the door, but he wasn't surprised when the door opened, and it wasn't him. It was Steve. "Hi, Steve. Did you like the movie?"

Steve nodded, taking a seat on the bed. "I did. It was a great eighties film. I can see why you love it so much." Steve then changed the conversation. "You okay?"

Y/n nodded. He knew he wasn't okay, but he didn't want to ruin Steve's evening with his problem. "I'm fine. Shouldn't you be playing charades with everyone else?"

The soldier disregarded the question and simply stared at Y/n for a moment, seemingly sensing that he wasn’t telling the truth. "Hey, why don't we grab some dessert? I know a great ice cream shop."

Y/n hesitated briefly. He didn't want to be a burden to Steve, but he also didn't want to spend his evening in his room.

"That sounds nice, thanks." Y/n smiled and followed the soldier out of the door.

Steve drove them to a small ice cream parlor that was tucked away in the city on his motorcycle, a vehicle that Y/n had never expected to get on willingly. Steve got the classic chocolate sundae, while Y/n got a vanilla sundae with chocolate syrup, sprinkles, and a cherry on top.

They then went to the park to watch the beautiful sunset and enjoy their sundae. The sun, a fiery orb of warmth and light, dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky with two shades of orange and pink.

Y/n and Steve watched the breathtaking scene in comfortable silence. The park was lively with kids playing, the distance hum of cars, and the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze. Y/n's vanilla sundae sat untouched. His mind was elsewhere, consumed by the disappointment and hurt he felt over Tony's absence. Steve, on the other hand, enjoyed his chocolate sundae, taking slow, deliberate bites of it.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" The super soldier broke the silence, his eyes shifting over.

"Yup," Y/n murmured, his e/c eyes taking in the stunning view. "It's like a painting."

Steve smiled, nodding his head in agreement. He then spoke again, his voice deadly serious. "So, what's going on? You've seemed a little down lately."

Y/n let out a sigh, knowing there was no point in lying to Steve. "It's my dad. I just feel like he always puts Peter first. It's like I'm not even his real son sometimes."

The blonde's expression softened, and he placed a comforting hand on Y/n's shoulder. "I know it's tough, but try not to take it personally. Your dad has a unique relationship with Peter, but that doesn't diminish his love for you. You're his son."

He sighed again, "I know but it's hard not to feel overshadowed sometimes. Peter gets all the attention, and I'm just... here."

"Your dad may not always show it, but he's proud of you, Y/n," Steve assured him. "And I know that he loves you very much. Sometimes, parents just need a little reminder that their kids need them."

Y/n nodded, but he couldn't help feeling skeptical. After all, actions spoke louder than words, and Tony's actions indicated that he loved Peter more than him. Like Y/n would always come second to Peter.

But he didn't feel like dwelling on Tony's absence anymore. Instead, he turned his attention back to the sunset, watching as the last sliver of the sun disappeared behind the horizon. The sky grew darker, the colors of the sunset fading into the twilight. He didn't get the opportunity to spend the evening with his father as he planned, but at least he had spent it with someone who cared about him deeply.

And that made him smile.

XXXXX XXXXX

The next morning, Y/n found himself in the kitchen, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. The events of the previous day still weighed heavily on his mind, leaving a bitter taste that even the strongest brew couldn't mask. He wanted to confront his dad about his behavior, but at the same time, he didn't want to talk to him after what happened.

As he added a dash of sugar to his cup, the familiar clanking of Tony's footsteps drew closer. He saw his father enter the kitchen, but Y/n leaned against the counter, his back stiff and his gaze fixed on the windows. He deliberately avoided greeting his dad as he would usually do.

"Morning, Y/n," Tony greeted politely, but Y/n remained quiet, his back still turned. Feeling perplexed by the cold shoulder, Tony frowned. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Y/n replied, voice low and dismissive as he finished his coffee and placed the cup in the sink.

Y/n moved forward, attempting to leave the kitchen, but Tony stepped in front of him, unsatisfied with the response. "I'm your father. It's my job to be concerned."

Y/n's laughter rang out, harsh and bitter as if Tony had just told him a funny joke. "That is quite ironic coming from you."

The frown on Tony's features deepened. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Y/n's voice was quiet, "that lately, you've been anything but a father to me. But I can't say the same for Peter tho. You literally drop everything for him, but you can't even remember our plans."

Tony took a step forward, his tone rising defensively. "That's not true, Y/n. I do my best to be there for both of you. I juggle a lot, but I make time for you when I can."

Y/n's gaze didn't waver and he cocked his head to the side. "You make time for me? Then where were you last evening?"

"I took Peter to the science fair."

"Even though we had plans to go to the movies?" The younger man pointed out.

Tony's eyebrows furrowed as realization dawned, shame washing over his face. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I know we had plans, but Peter needed me. I couldn't leave him."

The two Starks were so busy arguing that neither of them noticed a stealthy figure that managed to infiltrate the compound, temporarily disable Friday, and had a knockout device in their hand. 

"Peter needed you?" Y/n shook his head, his voice thick with hurt. Why did he forget about me? "What about what I need? You're my dad, not his. I need you."

Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You have me every day, Y/n. Don't you see that I am always here for you?"

"Are you, Dad?!" Y/n's voice rose to a shout. "When was the last time we spent quality time together, just the two of us? When was the last time you and I had a real conversation that wasn't about your work or Peter? When was the last time you asked about what's going on in my life? You probably don't even know that my birthday is in two days. I'll be turning twenty-three, by the way. You don't know that one of my art pieces was presented at the museum you found too boring to visit. And you don't know that I made the Dean's List in school for the third year in a row!" Y/n's voice dropped to a whisper, but the words still stung like acid. "Mom would never treat me the way you do."

Tony flinched as if struck, his eyes widening at the mention of Y/n's mother. The weight of his son's words hit him like a physical blow, and he opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, the room began to fill with a thick fog.

Y/n noticed it too, confusion clouding his face. But as more of the mysterious substance was released into the air, he dropped to his knees, his vision blurring. Tony staggered and slumped against the kitchen counter, his eyes falling shut.

And then, everything went dark. The gas in the room caused both father and son to collapse, slumping to the floor hard.

Later, once Y/n regained consciousness, his head pounded as he tried to piece together what happened. The last thing he remembered was the argument with Tony in the kitchen, and then everything went dark. But now, he found himself in an unfamiliar room, dimly lit by a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. The walls were made of rough concrete, and the floor was cold and hard beneath him.

"Y/n? Can you hear me?" Tony's voice, filled with concern, reached him, and he turned to see his father hovering nearby.

"Dad?" Y/n's throat was dry and scratchy as he tried to sit up, but dizziness forced him to lay back down. It's overwhelming.

Tony helped Y/n into a seated position against the concrete wall. "Easy there."

Y/n looked around. "Where are we?" 

"I'm not sure," Tony admitted, his gaze scanning the room for any clues. "But it appears that we have been kidnapped." 

Y/n's heart pounded in his chest as the reality of their situation sank in. Oh crap. He couldn't believe that they were in this predicament, but he didn’t know why he was completely surprised. Since he was a Stark, people have always attempted to kidnap him since the day he was born, but this was the first time someone had successfully managed to kidnap him. 

And he couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow his fault. If only he hadn't argued with his dad, they wouldn't have been distracted when their captor struck.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," Tony apologized, his eyes filled with remorse, and Y/n was slightly taken aback because he hadn’t been expecting that. "I should have been there for you more. I let my work and my relationship with Peter overshadow our bond. That was wrong of me to do that."

Y/n eyes drifted to his hands, clasped in his lap. "You know, it hurt every time you chose Peter over me," he admitted, his voice quiet. "I don't understand why you always favor him. Why is everything he does amazing, but when it comes to me, you're never satisfied? Was it something that I did wrong? Or didn't do? Because I can change if it means you'll love me."

Tony shook his head vigorously, moving closer to his son. "No, Y/n. I don't want you to change for anyone, especially not for me. I can admit that I haven't always handled things perfectly. Peter reminds me of myself at his age, and sometimes I get caught up in my own nostalgia. But that doesn't mean I love you any less, Y/n. You're my son. I'd do anything for you."

Y/n's heart swelled at his father's words. He forgave Tony the moment the words "I'm sorry" exited his lips. Y/n had never been one to hold grudges, and now that Tony had acknowledged his mistakes, he hoped that they could finally move forward and rebuild their relationship.

Y/n wrapped his arms around Tony, who reciprocated the gesture. "I just want to spend more time with you," he muttered. "You know, do all that father-son stuff."

"And we will," Tony promised, pulling away. "As soon as we get out of here, I'll clear my schedule for the next month. We can go to the Bahamas. The water is beautiful, and I know they have amazing art exhibits there. It can be my birthday present to you. It'll be just the two of us."

It was impossible for Y/n to refrain from allowing the corners of his mouth to curl upward into a smile. He experienced a sense of optimism for the first time in a long time. As he looked into his father's eyes, he was certain that he would fulfill his promise. Y/n couldn't help but feel like a ten-year-old on Christmas morning.

"I'd like that, but how are we going to get out of here?" That was the big question.

Tony smirked. "Leave that to my team."

He informed Y/n through sign language that he had a secret tracker implanted in his watch, which had been confiscated. The Avengers were aware of the tracker, so it wouldn't be long before they arrived.

And then, as if on cue, the door to the room they were in flew off its hinges by a man getting thrown through it. Then, Steve walked into the room, dressed in his Captain America outfit. Steve threw his shield at the cell the Starks were in, allowing the two men to finally escape.

"Tony, Y/n, are you guys okay?" Steve walked over to them and started looking for signs of harm or injuries of any kind, but was relieved that he didn’t find one. 

"Just peachy," Tony assured the blonde, grabbing his watch from a nearby table and taking Y/n's arm. They rushed out of the building, with Steve leading the way.

As the three made their way out, Y/n heard the sounds of gunfire, screaming, and growling echoing in the air. The Hulk was in full force, dismantling one of the kidnappers, while the other Avengers fought alongside him. Steve sprang back into action, and Tony transformed his watch into an Iron Man glove, joining the fighting. Even Spider-Man was there, taking out multiple opponents with ease.

But in the chaos, Y/n spotted a gunman aiming at Spider-Man from a distance. Acting without hesitation, he pushed Spider-Man out of the way, taking the bullet meant for him. The gunshot tore through Y/n's stomach, and he fell to the ground, eyes widening in shock and pain.

Tony had just fired a beam of light from his repulsor, sending the man flying into the nearby truck. But as he did, he heard the crack of a gunshot. He looked over to see where the shot had come from.

And his heart dropped to his stomach.

Y/n had been shot.

The bullet had pierced Y/n’s stomach, and blood was already soaking through his shirt, dripping onto the ground below.

"No, Y/n!" Tony screamed, running over as Steve hurled his shield at the shooter. Tony caught Y/n just as he began to fall, blood seeping through Tony's fingers as he peeled off his jacket and pressed it against the wound. Y/n trembled in his arms, his hands shaking uncontrollably.

"D-Dad."

"I know, I know, it's going to be okay," he whispered, his voice thick and his eyes shone with unshed tears. "You're going to be okay, I promise." His jaw clenched as he peered over at his teammates who had finally finished their fight and were rushing over. "Get us to a hospital, now!"

They didn't need to be told twice. Steve moved forward and quickly helped Tony carry Y/n to the Quinjet, with the other Avengers following closely behind them. Once inside, Natasha took her place in the pilot seat and Clint sat in the co-pilot seat next to her. Natasha quickly turned on the controls and maneuvered the jet into the air above, racing to the hospital.

The Quinjet soared through the sky, the city a blur below. Inside, the atmosphere was filled with worry. Everyone watched as Iron Man tried to help his injured son. Tony refused to let go of Y/n, his hands shaking as he tried to stop the bleeding, mind racing with fear and desperation. He had faced countless dangers as Iron Man, but nothing compared to the fear he felt at the thought of losing his son. 

Finally, the Quinjet landed on the rooftop helipad of Metro-General Hospital, and Steve and Bruce rushed out, carrying Y/n on a stretcher. Tony was right beside him, keeping his hands clasped in Y/n’s. 

"We need a doctor, now!" Tony shouted as they burst through the hospital doors.

Immediately, a group of two doctors and two nurses came over, taking over Y/n's care and wheeling him away. And Tony was beside them, still holding his hand.

"What happened?" One of them asked.

"Some idiot shot him," Tony explained. 

The medical team wheeled Y/n into the operating room fast. The female nurse commented how Y/n had a weak pulse rate as the group of medical specialists lifted him onto the bed. Tony held onto his hands, tears welling up in his eyes. 

The male doctor assessed the situation, noticing a smaller entry wound in Y/n’s upper right back and a larger exit wound in his abdomen. "Lungs failing," he said, his voice steady but grave. "Start an I.V. — two units of O, stat." The female nurse hurried off to fulfill the order. The female doctor asked for adrenalin, and the male nurse rushed to comply with the request.

Tony stood by his son's side, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the doctor's work. He couldn't remember a time he prayed, but he found himself silently pleading with any higher power that might be listening to spare his son's life. "Hang in there, son," he whispered.

Y/n struggled to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don’t think I’ll make it."

The billionaire's heart broke a little more. "Don't you dare die on me." Tony's voice was borderline pleading, begging for his son not to leave him. He has to survive.

But as the doctors worked frantically to save Y/n's life, his condition continued to deteriorate, his grip on Tony's hand weakening. "Dad," Y/n whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm so cold."

Hearing this, Tony couldn't hold back his tears, which fell onto his son's hand. "I-I-I can't feel my legs," he continued, making Tony feel an enormous sense of dread and despair. He wanted to leave, unable to continue witnessing his greatest fear unfolding before his eyes. However, Y/n gripped Tony's hand tightly. "D-Don't go." Their eyes met, and Y/n let out a gasp before managing to utter three words.

"I love you."

The heart monitor's steady beep began to slow, then faltered, finally falling silent as Y/n slipped into full arrest. Tony cried out, "Oh god." His hand clamped over his mouth as he watched his son flatlined.

"Full arrest. Paddles!" The male doctor shouted, and the female doctor brought over the paddle machine. Tony stepped back as he witnessed the scene unfold. The lady squirted gel on a paddle, and the male rubbed them together. "Clear!" He yelled and used the paddles on Y/n. 

But it didn't work.

"Recharge," he barked, and she obeyed. "Clear!" He used the paddles once again.

Still, Y/n’s heart did not respond and the heart monitor remained silent. His grip fully weakened in Tony’s hand, and his eyes remained unmoving. Sadly, it was officially. Y/n, son of the billionaire, was dead. The male doctor looked at Tony with a mix of sympathy and sadness.

"I’m so sorry," the male doctor voiced. 

And, just like that, Tony Stark broke. 

He leaned over Y/n, his body heavy with grief, tears streaming down his face as he clutched his son's lifeless hand. The pain in his chest was unbearable as if his own heart had stopped beating. He couldn't believe his only child was gone.

Now, he would never witness his son's college graduation, celebrate another birthday, see him walk down the aisle, or become a dad himself. Y/n was gone, and Tony would never see his son again.

And Tony felt like he had died too.

His sobs echoed through the hospital room, a sound so full of anger and pain that it seemed to pierce the very air. The doctors and nurses quietly left the room, deciding to let the genius grieve alone.

"Y/n," he choked out, his voice breaking on his son's name. "Please... come back. I can't… I can't live life without you here."

But he knew that his son wasn't coming back, no matter how much he'd beg for it. That thought was unimaginable, a nightmare from which he couldn't wake.

He had failed his son, failed to keep him safe, and now, Tony was forced to face a world without the h/c haired male in it. 

It was bad enough that the genius had been such a shitty dad to choose Peter over Y/n, but now he wouldn’t be able to show Y/n that he was fully committed to changing, to being the dad Y/n deserved.

That made his sobs grow louder.

The Avengers entered the room, their faces etched with sorrow. Each of them had faced countless battles, but nothing could have prepared them for the pain of watching one of their own lose a child.

Steve placed a hand on Tony's shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort for his friend. He knew that no words could ease the pain of such a loss, but he hoped that his presence would offer some solace. He took a moment to say a silent prayer for the man who was like a son to him.

Natasha's stoic expression cracked, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She had seen death countless times in her work, but this — this was different. This was one of their own, a part of their family.

Sam also couldn't hold back his tears. His vision blurred, and he wiped them away, not wanting to add to Tony's pain. But the pain was there, a dull ache in his chest that echoed the grief of his friend.

Clint had to look away, his jaw clenched. He had lost people before, but this was different. This was a young man, full of life, who left this cruel world too soon.

Bruce stood with his hands clasped in front of him. His eyes were downcast, but there was a hint of green in his eyes. He couldn't imagine the pain of losing a child, especially someone so wonderful. 

Peter was the most visibly shaken and he felt somewhat responsible. If he had been more aware of his surroundings and saw the hidden shooter, then Y/n wouldn't have taken the bullet for him.

Tony's fingers trembled as he closed Y/n's eyes. "I’m sorry, son," his voice was a broken whisper. "I love you so, so much."

For Y/n, the light had gone out. For Tony, the darkness has never felt so complete.

XXXXX XXXXX

[idkwhatever580]

Are you f****** kidding me?!

Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader

Prompt: y/n has very bad trauma with alcoholism in her family, so she never drinks. Natasha never pushes it and is always protective of her decisions but what happens when the boys play a little “prank”on y/n?

Warnings: trauma, ptsd in a way?, reader freaks out, getting drunk, spiked drinks, protective nat, swearing, mentions of sh, fake allergic reaction.

A/N: guys sometimes I’m not great at explaining things in the warnings. So I put a question mark lol. I hope y’all understand it though.

Y/n’s pov

Once again I’m at one of Tony’s parties. I think his excuse this week is his mom’s business partner’s daughter is having a birthday soon.

Whatever. There’s no point in actually caring it’s just another ploy for him to get drunk.

I usually leave before that time.

I start off my night with a water. I plan to finish the night with the same. Then suddenly Pietro comes up to me with Sam and says

“Hey y/n!”

I smile at him and notice he’s holding two drinks.

“Hey Piet. What are you doing?”

He smiles and says

“Bringing a drink to my favorite person.”

I roll my eyes at him. We get along because we like to prank people a lot. And play video games.

I frown as he hands me a drink and I say

“Piet you know I don’t drink”

He curses under his breath and says

“Oh right yeah! Let me take that and I’ll get you a virgin drink yeah?”

I nod my head and thank him as they both walk away. I guess Sam is just trailing along.

After a few minutes they come back and hand me a different drink and I say

“What is this?”

He looks at it and says

“A drink doofus”

I roll my eyes at his antics and say

“No I mean what’s in this drink?”

He looks at Sam and says

“It’s like a celcius!”

Sam agrees quickly and I say

“Oh. So like an energy drink?”

They both nod their head in unison and I smirk and say

“Thanks guys. You know I have a hard time with these things. Especially since nat is on a mission right now.”

Sam wanders off and Piet stays by me as I drink a few sips. It’s pretty good.

We talk a bit and Piet says

“How is that flavor? I have something else and I was just wondering.”

I smile and say

“It’s orange I think. Not the best but it’s decent.”

His eyes have a fire in them and he says

“Here! Why don’t I get you a different flavor?”

I nod and say

“I’m sure two wouldn’t hurt right? It’s only energy drinks and they don’t really affect me”

He nods and says he’ll be right back so I finish off my drink and wait for him.

When he comes back he has a slightly pink tinted drink for me and i immediately try it.

“This one is good!”

He nods his head.

I have about three of those drinks and I’m starting to feel great. My stomach hurts a bit but I feel fine.

And this girl is talking to me and her jokes are literally so funny. Like I have the giggles or something.

We start dancing and then I somehow end up with Wanda. We’re best friends but we are not leaving any room for Jesus. I usually don’t have this much fun at these parties.

Then I end up on a couch with another girl by my side and I’m just talking her ear off. She looks interested.

All of a sudden I get a rush of heat over my face. I just zone out trying to pinpoint what’s going on.

By now the girl has left and I see a flash of red come in my view.

“Y/n? Y/n detka focus on me. Where are you baby?”

My beautiful girlfriend Natasha pulls me from my trance and I throw myself on her and say

“Natty!!”

She lets me hug her and I get another rush of that feeling again.

She notices and says

“Are you alright?”

I nod my head and then think, and shake my head.

“What’s wrong detka?”

I lean on her shoulder as she sits next to me and I say

“I don’t know. I feel weird.”

Natasha looks at the table and sees three glasses and says

“Are those yours?”

I nod and smile

“Piet got me these three flavors of energy drinks. I can’t remember what he said they were called though. But he said they were like celcius”

She nods and grabs one of the glasses. She picks it up to her nose and smells it and sets it back down.

“Y/n you said you liked these? And you wanted them?”

I nod me head and say

“They were really yummy but I think they’re hurting my tummy a bit”

I pout and she looks to the side as if she’s scanning the crowd for someone. I follow her eyes and they land on Pietro and Sam who are giggling like teen girls. I slur out

“What are they laughing at natty?”

She looks to the side unsure of what to say and my eyes widen and I sit up. This realization has my mind sobered up a bit and I look at her with tears in my eyes.

“Nat? Is that alcohol?”

She bites her lip unsure of what to do but she nods her head and I say

“Pietro and Sam told me it wasn’t. They said they got me a virgin kind.”

She shakes her head and says

“I’m so sorry baby”

I shake my head and push her away. I immediately get up and walk off. I almost bump into a few people and I trip up a bit but not bad. I go straight to our room and Natasha decided to stay back to handle the perpetrators.

She makes sure Friday alerts her if I end up anywhere other than our room.

Nobody’s pov

To say Natasha was angry was an understatement.

She was furious.

She had to watch you storm off to probably go and cry because of what they did to you.

She stands up and brushes herself off. And then she calmly walks over to Pietro and Sam.

They say

“Oh hey nat! You’re back!”

Natasha smiles at them and says

“You wouldn’t happen to know what was in those drinks that you gave y/n would you?”

They shrug their shoulders and say

“What drinks? What are you talking about?”

Natasha is pissed so her patience is gone and she grabs them both by the ear and pulls them to the side of the room.

The noise isn’t any less quiet, it’s just out of the way.

And she goes ballistic.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Do you know what you did to her?! Everybody knows that y/n doesn’t drink because of her fears that she will end up like her father. She’s probably in our room now panicking about how she’s an alcoholic from three drinks!! And you!”

She points to Pietro

“You know better than to do that! You know she has problems. And you still did that! I should have the both of you banned from stark parties forever! You both intentionally spiked her drink! You two are literally dead!”

By now the room is silent from how loud Natasha is screaming at them. All eyes are on them but she doesn’t care.

“She was your friend and you did this to her! That is the ultimate betrayal and I wouldn’t blame her if she never wants to see your faces again! Get out of here. I don’t want to see you at another party! And I expect there to be ample apologies tomorrow!”

They nod and scurry off. Wanda is behind natashw now and she gives her a look as if she’s asking if they really did that to you and Natasha nods her head.

Wanda’s eyes glow red and she walks off in Pietro direction.

After Natasha knows they’ll be handled she smooths out her shirt and looks around at everyone gawking at her.

She raises and eyebrow and says

“Would anybody like to go with them?”

They all shake their heads and go back to partying.

Natasha goes upstairs to find you in your room.

She slowly walks up to your ball of a self and says

“Y/n? Are you alright?”

Apparently she chose the wrong set of words because you shoot up and say

“No im not alright! How can I be alright?! I’m literally drunk because I’m a lightweight and I feel disgusting because I liked it. And that’s why I never drink because I’m just like my father and I’ll like that shit and I’ll probably get hooked on it now!”

You are pacing back and forth and your breathing is erratic so Natasha goes up and grabs you and says

“Woah woah woah. Detka please calm down. You need to hear me. You are not an alcoholic from getting drunk once. You know that you don’t drink and that you won’t drink. Just because you liked the alcohol does not mean you are hooked okay? You clearly don’t like being drunk at all because it is hurting you.”

You are now just standing in Natasha’s grasp as she speaks to you.

“And you are most definitely not your father. You know now to not trust them with drinks anymore. Listen. I’m so sorry they did that to you. But you need to know it is not your fault. At. All. They spiked your drink knowing that you don’t drink for a reason.”

Y/n’s pov

I nod my head taking in all this information. And I tear up a bit.

“Hey hey don’t cry baby. It’s okay. It’s not your fault”

I shake my head as some tears start to fall and I say

“No no. I’m not crying because of this. I’m crying because you’re so good to me. Nobody would have reassured me like this except you. I just love you so much.”

We both smile and kiss each other and then we pull away because there is a knock at the door and I softly say

“Come in”

Wanda steps in and says

“Hey. How are you?”

I smile and say

“Still drunk”

I laugh and Wanda says

“Do you want me to get you a water?”

Natasha shakes her head and says

“We keep bottles of water in our room. I’ll grab her one.”

Wanda nods and says

“Right well I just wanted to let you know that I just got onto both their asses again and they are on probation for two months”

I furrow my eyebrows and say

“Probation?”

Wanda explains to me that probation is basically they don’t get any missions for two months. And she also added in there that they have to do my mission reports for that length of time too which is amazing since I hate mission reports.

“Wow Wands. That’s so sweet. Thank you”

She shakes her head and says

“No problem. Now I have one more question. They want to come in and apologize to you. Is that okay? I just want to check.”

I think about it and Natasha says

“You don’t have to agree detka. They can sulk in their rooms for now.”

I smile when I get a devious idea.

“What if you guys help me prank them back!”

They raise their eyebrows in concern and say

“What kind of prank?”

I think and say

“I can use my makeup skills and pretend I cut myself because of how bad my mind got!”

Their eyes widen and they say

“Woah there. That’s a little much.”

“Yeah Wanda’s right. Maybe a less intense prank?”

I sigh and nod my head. And then I completely forget about my idea when I say

“Wanda! You can use your powers to temporarily distort my face and body and we can prank them by saying I’m having an allergic reaction to the alcohol! Make them regret it even more!”

Wanda smiles and says

“I think that’s a good idea, but you’ve already had the alcohol in your system for a while. I think allergic reactions happen faster”

Natasha says

“They’re stupid. We can say it was a late onset reaction”

I nod my head aggressively. A little too aggressive though so I say

“Woah. Too much head shake there”

Natasha stabilizes me as Wanda says

“Alright. Why don’t you sit on the ground and I’ll work my magic?”

I sit down a little slowly so that I don’t get woozy or anything and while I’m waiting, Natasha gets me a water to help me sober up.

Wanda then distorts my face to look all red and blotchy and I get fake hives everywhere. I smile and say

“Nat. When were pranking them we can go in my bedside table and grab my old inhaler. I can use it to puff and it won’t do anything, and say I’m out!”

She nods her head. Anything to make me feel better.

And Wanda steps out and says

“I’ll be back with the boys.”

I giggle at my devious plan and Natasha says

“You’re gonna have to stop giggling if you want them to believe it”

I nod my head and get in serious mode. I lie myself in Natasha’s lap as she sits on her knees to pretend like she’s cradling me.

We here Wanda walking back and saying

“You better apologize and mean it”

They reply with a few “yes ma’am’s” and Natasha decided now is a good time.

“Wanda!”

She all but yells.

Thank goodness the party is still going so nobody else can hear.

Wanda runs in with Pietro and Sam hot on her tail and they see me.

Natasha puts on a facade that she’s freaking out and I make my breathing labored as if my lungs are closing up.

“Wanda! Help me out here! Y/n’s having an allergic reaction to the alcohol! I need her inhaler!”

Wanda jumps into action and says

“Where is it?!”

“In her bedside table”

Wanda runs to get it and only now can I see the boys. Their faces are ghostlike when they realize what they’ve done.

I fake puff the inhaler and shake my head. Natasha checks it and says

“Fuck.”

Pietro and Sam are now freaking out and saying

“Wait she can’t have an allergic reaction it’s been like forever!”

Natasha responds with

“It’s late onset and now her inhaler is empty! None of this would have happened if you didn’t spike her drinks!”

I gasp and say

“Epi… pen”

And Natasha remembers I have an epipen for if I get stung by a bee. And there’s a trainer in the bag so she grabs the trainer and they freak out.

She uses the trainer which does nothing but make a click sound and then she sighs as Wanda makes the reaction fade slightly.

They all sigh in relief and Sam and Pietro are the first to say something

“Y/n we’re so sorry. We had no idea this would happen!”

“Yeah we wouldn’t have done it if we knew!”

Natasha looks up and says

“But you would have done it even though you knew about her father?”

Their faces once again go like ghosts and I start laughing at them.

They’re confused and Wanda starts to giggle.

I hop up and say

“You idiots! We pranked you back!”

They stand there confused. Sam is the first to say

“But- but you used an epipen”

I shake my head and say

“That’s the trainer. It helps people know what to do in a real situation. The trainer doesn’t have a needle or medication in it”

He sighs and says

“What about your inhaler?”

I shrug and say

“Empty one. Doesn’t do anything anymore.”

Pietro is just silent and I say

“Aww Piet. Are you sad that I just pranked you?”

He shakes out of it and starts apologizing.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I know you didn’t have a reaction but I’m sorry because I didn’t think about why you don’t drink. I knew why but I ignored it.”

I sigh and say.

“I forgive you Piet. Just remember that we don’t do pranks that cause harm to someone.”

He nods and I turn to Sam

“And I forgive you too. Now both of you. I’d like to inform you that I have been letting my mission reports back up and I’m glad to tell you that you have until the end of the week to finish five of them”

They groan and say

“Yes ma’am”

I smile and they leave. I turn to Wanda and say

“Thanks fairy wand. You made me feel a lot better”

And I turn to Natasha and say

“Thank you too”

Wanda leaves and we get into bed (not without me putting up a fight) and Natasha makes me finish the bottle before I fall asleep.

“Thank you natty. You’re so good to me”

She smiles and says

“You’re a little devil when you’re drunk you know that?”

I smile and say

“Eh. I’ll be fine tomorrow”

She rolls her eyes and we fall asleep in each others eyes with Natasha knowing I’m gonna be worse when I’m hungover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope y’all liked it! I kind of rushed it because I have a bunch of things lined up and this is just an extra tidbit I started before creating more lol

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo

[teaboot]

Different actors and artists I mistakenly thought were the same person for a really long time:

Adam Sandler and Ben Stiller (? Tall face dad man? Comedy. Brown hair blue eyes. Early 2000's Blockbuster Video regulars.)

Kiera Knightly and Natalie Portman (Scary and pretty like an android that would eject me from the space shuttle)

Kiera Knightly and Kristen Stewart (K-names, queer kid kryptonite, pretty)

Justin Timberlake and Orlando Bloom (Pretty face white man, teens love him)

Ryan Reynolds and Paul Rudd (Thin face brown hair white guy? Comedy? Superhero with red suit. Immature dad vibes. "Pull my finger" type energy)

Celine Dion and Shakira (Pretty and tall multilingual blonde singers?)

Michelle Pfeifer and Uma Thurman (Odd name? Blonde? 2010 era songs about them)

Gene Wilder and Mike Myers (Cannot explain)

Individual actors I always thought were two different actors:

Lucy Liu in "Kill Bill" and Lucy Liu in everything else (I keep thinking Kill Bill came out in the early 70's and Lucy Liu does NOT look older than my mom)

Natalie Dormer (Though she was a bunch of different blonde women who looked alike but it's just her)

Actors and artists who I cannot recall ever seeing in my life, whose appearances I make up in my head whenever people talk about them:

Uma Thurman (Blonde? Very pretty. Red lipstick. Like Marilyn Monroe but a sharper chin.)

Stevie Wonder (A handsome Black gentleman in his late forties. Always in a tuxedo.)

Gilbert Godfrey (Peewee Herman??)

Celebrities I can picture in my mind with absolute photographic clarity:

Mike Tyson

Doug Jones

Miss Piggy

Public figures whose names I've heard of through pop culture osmosis but retained zero information about:

Roger Whittaker

Grace Earl Jones

Casey Anthony (??? A person??)

Akon

Greta Herwig (I think that's a person)

Tony Montana (Fictional???)

[gunsandspaceships]

Tony’s Childhood. Part 1: Identifying facts

In the MCU, Tony sometimes acts like a kid. There is a reason behind every behavior, so I wondered what it was like for him when he was a real kid.

So, the questions of the day: what do we know about Tony's childhood? Did he have one? And, most importantly, how did it affect him?

Let’s first list what we know from the movies:

At age 4 Tony built his first circuit board (IM1)

At age 6 built his first engine (IM1)

Was sent to a boarding school by Howard (IM2)

Cracked the Pentagon’s firewall in high school on a dare (AoU)

Had a nanny until the age of 14 (IM3)

Went to college at 14 (IM1)

Built Dum-E and U when he was there (IM1)

At 17 graduated summa cum laude from MIT (IM1)

Continued his education until his parents’ death (CW)

Tony’s genius gave him two things: the brain and the pain. And by the pain, I mean that instead of interacting and bonding with his parents, enjoying life, playing, having fun, making friends, taking care of pets, and all the other things children do to gradually prepare for adulthood and grow up "healthy", he got this list of achievements. That doesn’t make a person normal.

Parents

We know his relationship with Howard was complicated. Howard loved him in his own way. He had too many things to do to be a good father: SI, S.H.I.E.L.D., scientific projects, trying to build a better future with clean energy, etc. All good, except when you want your child to love you back. Especially if in the tiny amount of time you spend with him, you don’t show him any signs of affection.

What do we know about Maria? Her name, what she looked like, that she played the piano, and died at Winter Soldier’s hand on Dec 16, 1991. That’s it. She didn’t spend much time with Tony either. Remember, he even had a nanny, instead of a mother. Tony's words about her showed that he loved her, but he didn't talk much about her. Because she wasn’t present in his life enough. Why? Because…

School

Howard sent Tony to a boarding school.

Here’s in the S.H.I.E.L.D.s file we have this information about the school:

“Phillips Academy, Andover, MA 1977-1984”

This means he was there from age 7 to 14. Howard sent him to a boarding school when he was SEVEN.

Phillips Academy Andover serves grades 9-12 only (it is a college preparatory school). Thus, either this is a mistake by the creators of the film/file, or Tony, due to his genius, became an exception. Since the early age he was already at school was also mentioned in IM2 tie-in comics, and in Earth-616 that was also 7, we can mark 1977-1984 as valid.

Think about it again: Tony was sent to boarding school in another state when he was 7 years old. He spent another 7 years there, alone, among high school-aged teenagers. No parents around, no peers.

For example, even Hogwarts accepts 11-year-old children, and they live with their peers. Now imagine Harry Potter, at the age of 7, is thrown into a dorm with 7th-year students and locked there. Doesn’t make a person normal either, does it?

Nannies and Jarvis

Since Tony was at the boarding school, there are two options for how he could have a nanny (mentioned in IM3) and spend time with Edwin Jarvis:

1) He was at the boarding school with a nanny. There is almost no possibility that the nanny was Edwin Jarvis because Jarvis was Howard’s butler and had other responsibilities.

2) He had a nanny at home in the summer and during short school breaks. In this case, his parents couldn’t even give him this little of their precious time.

In any case, he could only see Jarvis at home, a few months a year at most.

Note: There is a date error in IM3, stating Tony was 14 in 1983. This is clearly an error and we can omit this detail.

Bullying

Remember this dialog between Tony and Harley in IM3?

0:45:15 – Harley asks him how he knew he was being bullied at school. Tony doesn't answer. He gives him a non-lethal flash thing to "discourage bullying."

We see that Tony knew exactly what was going on with Harley at school. Because that’s exactly what happened to him there. Harley reminded him of himself. Brilliant kid with no friends and practically no parents. He was bullied by 9th-12th graders.

If he had a nanny with him at the school, that probably made things even worse. He would be bullied because he has a nanny, and despite he has one to look after him.

In Part 2 we will discuss how all this affected him. Stay tuned.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Finer Things 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, age gap, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your mom surprises you with a visit but has a lot more in store than you could ever imagine.

Characters: Tony Stark

Note: Another sexy silverfox.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖

“It will be so good to see you, honey,” you mom’s buoyant voice rings in your ear drum and you move the cell away from your ear. You make a face and catch the eyes of passerby, cringing at yourself as you veer away from the coed and continue towards your residence. 

“You too, mom,” you reply as you keep to the edge of the walk, sure to keep out of the way of students and faculty alike. 

“I have a surprise too!” She rings out. 

“Mm, you do?” You frown. The last time she had a surprise, it wasn’t really for you. Her trip to the Caribbean had you alone for your sixteenth but that was like five years ago. 

Your eyes skim the rustic colours of the curling leaves as wind whips around the collar of your coat. You plug your other hear so you can hear her voice. 

“Oh yes! It’s all really exciting. Just make sure you wear something fancy. I looked up a few local spots and this one looks very upscale,” she trills. 

That’s your mom. She spends more than she should, or has. If she had access to your trust, you wouldn’t have tuition. It’s just another part of your life that makes you feel helpless. 

“Alright, I’m sure I have something...” 

“What about all those clothes I gave you when I cleaned out my closet?” She preens. 

“Mom, I couldn’t fit them in my suitcase.” You don’t mention that you didn’t fit into them either. Your short and rounder than her. 

“Do you need money? I could send you my credit card number... one of them.” 

“It’s fine. I’ll find something,” you assure her and dodge out of the way of a group of frats. You feel so invisible. It’s like no matter what you do, no one sees you, even standing right in front of them. “I should go. It’s windy.” 

“Okay, I guess you can go,” she whines. “But I’ll see you tonight. Oh, I’ll send you the address too. Should I send an uber?” 

“Mom, please, my tuition includes a bus pass--” 

“The bus? Oh, at night?” 

“Mom,” you grit again. “Please. I’ll get there. See ya then.” 

“Alright, alright. I love you. Buh-bye.”  

You hang up and tuck your phone away, keeping your hands in your pockets as the tails of your coat flap with another chilly gust. You slope your shoulders against the autumnal temperate and hide your cheeks against your scarf. You love this time of year for the apple cider and pumpkin everything but the weather isn’t always so pleasant. 

As you get to your building, you look up at the windows. There are signs decrying the latest political frenzy and flags with varying shades of rainbow, and some stickers stuck on the panes. Your own window is barren. Just like you, your living quarters are plain. 

You let yourself in through the front door with a flash of your fob and drag your feet up the stairs. Gabourey is in the kitchen on speaker phone. You often fall asleep listening to her conversations, though you try hard not to. Racquel would be working down at the bookstore, and most times you wonder where Virgie is, she’s in her room napping. 

Your entry goes unnoticed. You hide in your dorm and put your bag on the chair by the desk. You untie your boots and carry them back to the mat. Too late, you already soaked the small patch of carpet between your bed and the desk. 

You toss your coat on your bed and go to the wooden armoire next to the sink in the corner. It isn’t much space but it’s yours. You open the doors and stare down the garments hanging inside. You favour plaid, tweed, and muted colours. The plum turtleneck would go nice with your circle skirt but it feels so stuffy. Your mom said fancy, not uptight. 

Hm. A classic black dress. Everyone has one. Even you. It’s simple. A wrap with a bow at the hip. It emphasizes your curves but doesn’t make you look bigger. You can put a necklace on with it and fight your hair for some semblance of presentability. 

It doesn’t matter much anyway, it’s just your mom. You don’t really care what other people think. She’s the one so hung up on appearances. You’ll just enjoy the free meal, if her card isn’t declined. 

💎

Your mom texts as you shove your wallet in your purse. You put your glasses on over your fresh coat of mascara and read her message. ‘Uber on it’s way for you.’ 

You huff and key in your message, ‘mom, I told you not to worry.’ 

She sees it but doesn’t answer. She never listens to anyone. Ever. It’s why you haven’t seen your own grandparents since your graduation. What a lovely day that was. 

You shrug and grab your coat. Oh well. No use in arguing now. With how quick the app is, the driver’s probably right outside. Besides, you weren’t exactly looking forward to waiting for the bus in the bitter cold. 

As you come downstairs, you get another text. In the chat, you find a screenshot of your mom’s phone, but that’s not her phone number on the confirmation screen. Or yours. Hm. 

You match the license play before you approach the car. You get in and greet the driver. He doesn’t answer you. Wow, you’re in his back seat and you still can’t get a hello. Or maybe the music’s too loud. 

You clutch your bag in your lap and watch out the window. The tension rises to an awkward strangle and when at last you reach the restaurant, you thank him. He turns down the music before you can get the door open. 

“Thanks for the tip, lady,” he says brightly. “Awesome!” 

You smile and bid him ‘you’re welcome’, rather than correcting him. Even if it’s undeserved, you’ll take it. Your mom must already have ordered some wine. Her statement must be close to its limit. 

You get out and look up at the curvy cursive of the restaurant sign. It’s fancy for sure. You cross the pavement and enter warily. You might just convince her to go somewhere else. Somewhere affordable. 

You stand around in the lobby and stare at the hostess as her eyes cling to the tablet on her podium. She taps around on the screen and ignores you. Is she? Or does she just not know you’re there? You clear your throat and step up. 

“Um, hi, I’m meeting someone here. I think they’ve arrived but, er, yeah,” you grip your phone tight, “Joyce.” 

“Joyce,” she squints and checks her screen. You give your last name but she still can’t find it. 

“One second,” you back up as a couple enters and you pull up the chat. 

You frantically text your mom; ‘I’m here but they don’t have your name.’ 

The checkmark goes blue but she doesn’t answer. The bubble doesn’t even pop up to show she’s typing. Your stomach swirls and you look around. The couple is shown into the dining room by a server as the hostess looks at you. You can feel her judgement. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” a man appears in a suit, “I think my guest is here. Young thing--” 

The man pauses and you look up. Your heart picks up in recognition. It’s him. Tony Stark. The Tony Stark. Billionaire, engineer, generous donour to the university. He smirks at you. 

“There she is,” he heads for you and you shake your head. 

“Oh no, not me--” 

He says your name and you choke on your tongue. You touch your collar and shake your head. He chuckles. 

“Sorry, did I scare ya?” He beams at you. “Your mom’s holding the table.” 

“My mom--” you stammer. 

“Come on.” He beckons you with his hand, the flash of his expensive  

“Mr. Stark, did you need anything for the table?” The hostess asks. 

“I’m good, sweetheart,” he winks and keeps his arm extended to you. 

“Alright, well if you do, ask for Chelsea.” 

He laughs again and waves you close. You walk to him in shock. 

“Actually, Chelsea, her coat,” he says. 

He surprises you as he unbuttons your jacket himself. You just stand there. He pushes it back on your shoulders and you squeak. You turn to let him free your arms and he hands the wool over to the hostess. 

“There we go,” he purrs. 

You step away and cross your arms defensively. He bends his elbow and looks at you expectantly, “come on.” 

You hesitate but step forward. He grabs your wrist before you can react and hooks your arm through his. You still can’t believe it’s him. Or that he’s there with your mom. This is her surprise? How the hell does she wander into these things? 

You let him lead you into the dining room. Despite the lingering nip of the fall in your cheek, sweat forms on the back of your neck and speckles your scalp. You look around and find at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you in turn. 

Stark leads you to a booth where your mom wiggles on the bench. She shimmies out from behind it and throws her arms up. Your escort releases you, brushing between your hand and your skirt, and your mom wraps you up in a hug. She rocks you with a squeal. 

“Honey! I missed you.” 

“Mom,” you groan. 

“Joyce, please, give the girl a moment,” Stark chuckles, “come on, let’s settle in. I’m getting a bit peckish.” 

You eagerly take his lead. You nod as your mom lets you go and you keep your eyes on the table. You slide in next to your mom as she sits. 

“Wine?” Stark offers as he lifts the bottle already on the table. 

“Erm, I don’t--” 

“She’d love some,” your mom answers, “don’t let me have all of that or I might regret it in the morning.” 

You force a smile at her joke. The undertone gives you an ick but you ignore it. Stark pours the glass. 

“We haven’t formally been introduced,” he says as he plunks the bottle down, “Tony Stark.” 

“Mr. Stark,” you take his hand as he offers it and shake it, “nice to meet you.” 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he slithers the cliche and squeezes your hand before letting go. 

You retract and cradle your fingers in your lap. You’re burning with surprise and confusion still. You glance at your mom. 

“Your mom says you came straight from school, smartie pants,” he grins. “I’m honoured you came all this way.” 

“Um, not that far.” 

“You go to Keating,” he prompts. 

“Yes, er, you spoke there--” 

“I did,” he agrees quickly. “Back in the fall. You were there?” 

“Um, ha, yeah,” you twist your fist around your finger. “I-- It was busy, you probably don’t remember but me and my roommate came to the meet and greet. She got your signature.” 

“Oh, she did? But you didn’t?” 

“Erm, no, I didn’t have VIP,” you show your teeth sheepishly, “sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves off your apology. “You get a whole night with me.” 

Your mother giggles and puts her hand on his arm, “so, you like your surprise?” 

“Uh, surprise?” You echo thinly. “Sure, uh... I... feel like I’m crashing.” 

“Not at all.” Stark insists. 

“Thanks, Mr. Stark, er--” 

“Please, it’s Tony,” he says. “My father’s Mr. Stark and he’s a jackass at that.” 

You laugh, more nervous than amused. Your mom rubs his arm and leans into him, “you’re so funny, Ton.” 

“So I’ve been told,” he agrees but his eyes don’t leave you. 

You shift and peer around the restaurant. You already feel out of place here but with him, you’re even more uncertain. A clink brings your attention back to the table. 

“Come on, let’s loosen up,” he taps his glass against yours, “cheers.” 

“Cheers!” Your mother quickly scoops up her glass and knocks it against his. 

His smirk stays etched in his lips as he sips and you pick up your glass. You drink cautiously and squirm under his intense gaze. You wish he’d look away. Look at her! She’s the one you’re here for. 

[beansandsprouts]

Sunshine (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: Bucky interacts with you here and there and finds himself feeling more connected to you. Driving him to want to see your soulmate mark even more.

Warnings: none

Sorry it took so long! College and work got me dying lmao. Updates will continue to be kinda spaced out. Fingers crossed I can get another one out over the weekend.

Also I am absolutely delighted by how much interest there's been in this! Thank you all sm for reading. Down below with the tags there's a link to a little survey, even if you're already on the tag list please fill it out. It's how I'll be keeping track of the tag list. If you don't fill it out you won't be tagged.

He hadn't been able to sleep that night.

You were right across the hall. Two doors separated you from him. And it drove him crazy knowing that you, his possible soulmate, were so close yet just out of reach.

He had dozed in and out of consciousness through the night, but found himself wide awake when he heard shuffling coming from your room. Super soldier hearing meant he heard you get out of bed and pad to your closet. What were you doing?

He heard your door shut quietly, and you make your way down the hall, and, after a few moments, the ding of the elevator door.

His mind raced, wondering what you could be doing. The next thing he knew he was tugging on a hoodie over his tank top and sweats over his boxers. He padded down the hall to the elevator, the little number above lit up saying the elevator was stopped at the floor right underneath him. The training room.

That made sense. From the way you'd spoken about your time in the military yesterday, you were highly trained and a huge asset, you likely had gotten up this early to train for years. He stood there for a moment, debating on going down as well.

The thought that maybe he'd get to see your soulmate mark was enough to have him going back to his room to get his shoes, water bottle, and towel. He wanted to make sure he looked like he was actually down there to train.

Hey, maybe he'd even get to spar with you, get to see what you were capable of.

The elevator moved only one floor, but it felt like it was taking forever. The doors opened to the small lobby and he pushed open the doors to the training room. You were doing some stretches, warming yourself up, and you looked up when he entered.

"Mornin!"

He mumbled the greeting back, now suddenly extremely nervous and starting to wonder why exactly he thought this would be a good idea.

"Didn't think I'd catch anyone this early." You seemed unbothered, warm smile despite the fact that it was so early you could still see the stars in the dark sky if you looked out the window.

He grunted in response, not being able to find the words to respond. He stood there for a moment, watching you, before walking off to start his own warmup. Which consisted of lifting more weight than you could even dream of getting even an inch over your chest. But it was light work for him.

You continued stretching but subtly watched him. You were a little disappointed he was wearing a hoodie, it did kind of obscure everything. Though you could imagine how good his muscles looked lifting that weight. Your face warmed a bit at the thought and you tried to force yourself to focus on the light burn in your calves as you stretched.

After a bit, you moved to wrap your hands and feet, wanting to practice on one of the dozen punching bags Tony had in there. He'd offhandedly mentioned he had to design a lot of the equipment himself so they could withstand the beating of the two super soldiers living in this place.

You focused on the swaying bag in front of you, vaguely aware of Bucky doing things behind you, but not paying him too much mind. Your mind was on getting out that pent up energy. Working with the Avengers was going to be very different from your previous work, and you knew there'd be a lot less for you to do on the daily. You had a feeling you'd probably be spending a lot of time in here.

You barely registered Bucky saying your name from behind you. When it did you paused your beating on the punching bag and turned to him.

"Whats up?"

"Spar?"

"Huh?"

Bucky gestured to the mat meant for sparring a little ways away. It was a little padding so whoever got dropped on their ass only hurt their pride.

"Oh! Yeah, sure." You grinned, you had to admit the idea was exciting. You were curious to see how you'd fare against one of these two.

The two of you settled into stances on the mat and you gave him a teasing grin, "I'm not gonna go easy on you."

You saw the corner of his mouth twitch with amusement as he raised a brow.

"Oh?"

"I don't have to be as worried about breaking you."

His eyes lit with curiosity, just what exactly were you capable of.

He watched you closely as you circled each other before lunging, swinging his non-metal arm at you. You blocked the hit easily and returned it with a swing of your own, which landed. His head snapped to the side as your fist connected with his jaw.

He took a step back, rubbing where you'd hit him. He hadn't expected you to hit that hard. Hell, Steve was one of the few people who's hits actually made his body ache. You packed some heat he was not expecting.

He squared up again and the two of you traded some blows back and forth before he realized you were barely flinching at the hits he landed. So he decided to turn it up a notch, striking harder than he had before. You reciprocated that.

As the two of you sparred, his eyes narrowed, and Bucky's focus turned to seeing how far he could push you. His blows struck hard, one particular hit to your abdomen forced the air from your lungs, and you stepped back gasping.

He pushed forward, though, and despite the lack of air, you fended him off well. To anyone watching, it would seem like a friendly sparring match had turned malicious. However, both yours and Bucky's eyes were lit with delight at the fact that you'd found an equal opponent.

You finally decided to end the session with a swift attack to knock him to the ground and taking the opportunity to pin him, his arm twisted behind his back.

"I surrender." He chuckled. You released him quickly and offered a hand to help him up, which he took.

"Youre...tougher than I expected."

You tilted your head, "Did Tony not tell you?"

"Tell me what?" He asked.

"I'm also a weird military experiment. Except they aimed more for stealth than brute strength with me, still gave me that enhanced strength though." You explained as you used your towel to dab the sweat from your neck.

"You haven't been particularly stealthy."

You laughed, "Haven't been trying. Tell you what, turn off the light and see if you can find me in the dark."

Bucky's eyes scanned you curiously before walking over and flicking off the lights. When he turned back, he tried to peer through the darkness to find you. He even tried to listen for your breathing and heartbeat, but the room was dead silent.

It was unnerving as he stepped further into the room as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He slowly turned in a circle, hoping to spot you.

He thought he'd spotted you in a corner of the room until he felt a kick to the back of his knees, knocking him down. Suddenly, there was a hand gently resting around his throat and two fingertips pressed against his head in a mock figure of a gun.

"Surprise." You giggled and released him and went over to turn on the lights as Bucky stood up in a daze.

"How?" He demanded.

"My special serum gave me the ability to slow my heart and breath rate to the point where it's imperceptible, even to you. And I can move lightly so you can't even hear me walk. I can see in the dark, and all other senses are enhanced. Plus, the whole strength and pain tolerance thing. Literally, you just stealthy."

Bucky stared at you as you explained. He slowly realized you weren't really an equal. In fact, you were probably "better" than him in a sense. You had the ability to be completely imperceptible, even to him. You'd just proven you could have killed him easily, and he wouldn't have even seen it coming. It half scared him, and half had his heart racing with attraction.

"You ok?" You asked. He'd been staring at you silently for a good few seconds.

"I've just never met someone who could take me down like that."

"We're good though right?" Your expression had changed to one of nervousness.

"Why wouldn't we be?"

"Some men have a tendency to feel threatened or emasculated."

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him.

"Don't gotta worry about that here."

"Good." You smiled softly at him before it turned into a mischievous grin, "Wanna see who can squat the most weight?"

His mouth quirked up in a half smile as he followed you. The next two hours consisted of you challenging him to see who could handle more. Endurance wise, you did better. However, in terms of raw strength, he did better than you.

Bucky found himself feeling amused, you were so different from him and Steve. They had a tendency to be a bit more reserved. Quieter. But you were bubbly and all over the place, all smiles and energy. It was strange knowing that you'd come from the military.

After a while, the two of you headed upstairs to eat breakfast. By then, most of the others were already awake and were surprised to see Bucky willingly hanging out with you.

It was amusing in a sense. You were like a living ray of sunshine, and Bucky was like a living storm cloud. Polar opposites. However right about now Bucky didn't seem to be as "rainy" as he usually was. The look on his face was more relaxed, and he nodded attentively as you spoke. He was genuinely interested in whatever you were saying.

The second you excused yourself for a shower, the teasing began.

"Seems Bucky has taken an interest in our new teammate." Natasha said slyly.

Bucky shot her a glare and busied himself with a cup of coffee.

"Can you blame him? She's a cute little thing." Sam chuckled.

"I heard she's a great warrior. That makes her even more attractive." Thor said from his seat.

Bucky gritted his teeth and sat down on the couch by Steve with his cup of coffee. He didn't want to tell them exactly why he was so interested. He knew if he did they'd want to get involved and it would just ruin everything.

So for now, he'd deal with the teasing and hope it wouldn't be long until he found out if it was his name marked on your arm.

He stared down into his mug, ignoring the joking going on around him. He barely knew you, and yet he was practically praying that you were his soulmate. That the name he had on his arm was written in your writing. That the name on your arm was his written in his messy chicken scratch.

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

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[midnightorchids]

Hey babe- I wanted to know how you felt about booknerd!reader x Jason. Because it's been rotting my brain forever now and I need to know what someone as genius as yourself thinks about it. So like- We know Jason is a book girl. He's got huge floor to ceiling shelves in his apartment filled with non-fiction, historical fiction, classics, and maybe a few Si-Fi titles. I feel like he would love Toni Morison, Maya Angelou, Henrik Isben, Margret Atwood, and maybe even Harukai Murakami. He has this beautiful collection of leather bond additions of the Iliad Bruce gave him when he was 16. And when he finally invites you over, he cannot contain his excited smile as you start gushing over his home library. He makes you guys coffee and you spend hours talking about your fav genres, authors, online author drama - and after he's walking back to his apartment after dropping you off, he's smiling down at his phone at the message you sent. 'I had so much fun today! Ur library is so so so cool, was wondering if you would be ok going with me to Chapters next week? Wanted to pick up the new Skyward book' He's kicking his feet and hiding his face in his pillow. So deeply overjoyed that his crush shares in his immense love of literature. After you guys officially get together, he buys you so many fucking books. He fallows your goodreads wishlist religiously and surprises you almost every month with a new addition to your growing collection. He usually collects used paper backs, but for you, he splurges on the hardcover special additions. Of course it's because he loves you but it's also so that, maybe, you'll be more incentivised to move into a different apartment. One with floor-to-ceiling book shelves and a shared bed... just saying.. He branches out into more genres and authors he wouldn't usually read from just so he could talk about your favourite books with you. You do the same - your book collections getting mixed together in the process. Library dates, bookstore dates, used-bookstore dates. Your first couple of dates and realisations of love happened in and around books. You would always leave little messages inside the first page of the books you give him. So that if your every away or he's on a mission and he takes a book with him, he'll have one of your small messages of love as a reminder of something to return home to.

Hi hon!! I’m so sorry for the late response, I’ve been dying with uni and just life in general recently, but I’m back and ready to write again!!

I fully agree with almost everything that you said, like you’ve written it out so well and it’s just so cute! I was literally giggling and kicking my feet at the last one omg.

I shall try to add more stuff!!

Jason’s go to present for his loved ones is annotated copies of his favourite books. He only does this when he feels comfortable with a person because sharing his thoughts feels raw and vulnerable sometimes.

Having a significant other who loves to read and appreciates these types of gifts would make him feel happy and very emotional. It’s not often he gets to share this side of himself with people.

When he gifts his copies to his friends or his partner, he feels like he’s leaving a piece of him with the person, so he only does this when he trusts you.

He leaves detailed little messages on the margins of his books. He draws little smiley faces on the cute parts and angry faces on the parts that made him upset.

In the books for his significant other, Jason leaves little notes around the quotes that remind him of you. He highlights them in a different colour and makes sure his notes look extra tidy.

He sucks at wrapping things, so sometimes you’ll get a very poorly wrapped, tape covered novel. You’ll look at the wrapping and laugh, you’d pinch his cheeks teasingly and tell him he did a good job. He’d turn his face away in embarrassment, which leads to you placing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Then, there would be times where he doesn’t have the energy to deal with the horrible wrapping paper. So, you’ll be gifted a plain paper back with a sticky note on the front cover that reads ‘for you,’ in squiggly lines.

It’s honestly sweet and he gets very shy about it.

Also, Jason’s taste in books is very diverse, he reads anything from the classics to romance to gothic horror. He reads anything and everything and because of that, I think that it would be very easy for you to share your thoughts and recommendations with him.

Even if Jason hasn’t read the book, he listens intently with a huge smile on his face. He loves listening to you talk. If he doesn’t know the author or the book, he will try to familiarize himself with what you’re reading and branch into different genres.

There would be lots of reading and bookstore dates. You’d browse through the different aisles with his hand in yours, only letting go when a particular book catches your attention. He watches you in awe as you gush about the different series.

(Side note, my friends and I always go to bookstores and just point out the worst books we’ve read and I think Jason would do that too.)

As you search through the shelves to find your next read, he’ll come to you all excited, rambling about the book in his hand. From the looks of it, it seems like he loves the book. His hands are moving around, he’s smiling and giggling, but if you pay attention, he’s actually just cussing out the author.

This becomes a tradition in your relationship. You both bring up books that you hate instead of the ones that you really enjoy. You’d spend the next hour of your bookstore visit just giggling at the random passages that the author thought were good enough to share with the world.

I think this would also lead to a book club of reading awful books sometimes just for shits and giggles. There would be weeks where you would read amazing, well written stories together, but then there would be times when you guys would pick up something bad just to make fun of it.

Overall, Jason would love having a book nerd significant other because he finally has someone who he can geek out with.

[holdmytesseract]

When a God Loves a Woman

☆ The Baby Fever AU ☆

Loki x Y/N (Pre-Relationship)

Summary: Loki and you get paired up on a mission, much to the god's dismay - but not because he doesn't like you, no... Quite the opposite. He's hopelessy in love with you. How is he supposed to get through this mission?

Warnings: Loki being a cute idiot in love, pining/bit of mutual pining, a few suggestive things, fluff, swear words, thirst? short mention of weapons? short mention of drugs, mentions of a w*nst - blink and you'll miss it

Word Count: 5,5k

a/n: This is a request from my wonderful friend @fictive-sl0th ! 🥰❤️ I hope you are going to like it - and everybody else, of course as well! 😁

Baby Fever Crew: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @loz-3 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @xthatpottahfanx @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @anukulee @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @lokiforever @crimson25 @kimanne723 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @noideakitten @zombiesnips-blog @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @lokisgoodgirl @princess-ofthe-pages @coldnique @asgards-princess-of-mischief

Baby Fever Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"No. Absolutely not," Loki stated; crossing his arms over his chest. Tony blinked in disbelief. "What does that mean 'No'? Are you kidding me, Laufeyson?" The god squinted his eyes at his 'team colleague'.

"You must be deaf - or stupid, metal man... Perhaps even both. No... I said no." Tony growled; was already annoyed. "Thin ice, Reindeer Games, thin ice." The billionaire took a few threatening steps closer. "Listen. I don't care what you want, princess. You are the one who needs to prove himself to Fury, S.H.I.E.L.D - and basically the whole world. So if you don't want to end up home and get send into a cell by daddy, you should cooperate now." Loki's jaw clenched; knowing that Tony was unfortunately right. "I'm calling the shots at this mission - which needs to be a success, and if I'm telling you to team up with Y/L/N, then you're going to fucking do it. Are we clear?"

The god was positively fuming with anger - and despair (which Tony didn't notice). "Yes," he hissed. If looks could kill...

It's not that Loki didn't want to team up with you. In fact, he wanted nothing more in his life - and exactly that was the problem. About a year had passed now since he'd been sentenced to prove himself worthy and make up for the chaos he had caused. He became an Avenger - no matter if he liked it or not. It was his only chance to escape the dungeons on Asgard.

It had been a bitter pill for the god to swallow; without a doubt.

Earning the team's trust wasn't easy. Everybody despised him; was suspicious - except you. From the first day he arrived at the Avengers compound, you tried your best to give him a warm welcome. You were nice, kind and sweet. At first, Loki didn't like this at all; thought it was just a fake show you put on. A little game you played or something. After all, why should you have mercy? Why would you accept him? It simply couldn't be.

So, Loki pushed you aside - several times; cold-shouldered you. But you stayed stubborn and continued to treat him friendly - like he deserved and didn't let yourself get shoved away by the god for long. It took a lot of time (and energy), but at some point Loki realised that your intentions were pure. You really meant it. He realised, that you gave him something what nobody else did... A second chance. And from then on, he let you in. Step by step, of course, and slow, but he did.

He talked more to you, spent more time with you, trained together with you - and at some point it came how it had to come... Loki fell in love. Hard. Something he wasn't willing to admit, of course. Norns, he'd rather die than admitting that he fell in love with a Midgardian woman. He also didn't want a single soul to get a whiff of this, so his mission was to keep it a secret - no matter what it took.

The problem was, that preserving this secret turned out to be more difficult than Loki thought. It wasn't easy for him to keep his cool around you; given the fact that he didn't feel this kind of love for ages. By Odin's beard, he felt like a lovestoned teenager! Therefore, he tried to avoid being too close to you - not always successfully, though...

"Good boy."

Tony's words brought Loki back down to earth; out of his head. He clenched his jaw. The anger flooding through his veins was back. Full force - but nevertheless, he tried to control his temper and keeping his mouth shut.

"Why don't you like to be in a team with Y/N anyway? I thought you two get along quite well - or did I misinterpret the situation? Do you have a problem with her?" Tony asked suspiciously. Loki blinked. "No, I-" Before he could say something he'd regret later, the warning bells in his head started to ring at a deafening volume; causing his brain to switch into defence mode immediately.

"I mean yes. Yes. I don't like her. She's annoying me."

The billionaire frowned; crossing his arms over his chest. "You're confusing me, Reindeer Games. No, then yes. Geez, you're worse than a diva. Do you have a problem now with Y/N, or not?" Loki was a hairsbreadth away from grabbing Tony by the lapels of his shirt and throwing him against the nearby wall of the conference room.

"Yes," the god hissed. "I can't stand her." To say those words hurt him deeply; his heart wincing in pain - but for Loki, there was no other way.

"Well..." For a moment, Tony's expression was understanding and almost soft - but then he shrugged his shoulders. "Your problem. The teams are set. I don't care. Make it work." With those words and another shrug, the billionaire turned on his heels, walked away, "See you tomorrow, princess." and left the room.

Loki's eyes followed him, before he squeezed them shut; shaking his head. A sigh left his lips. "How foolish..." He mumbled. "How foolish of me to think Stark would cooperate." Running a hand through his raven curls, he returned to his room. Tomorrow was going to be a hard day for him...

The next day arrived way too quickly - and Loki had slept way too less and spent the whole day thinking about that damn mission, causing him to be the first to stand by the Quinjet; waiting for his 'team mates'. It was an awkward situation. Usually, he was never the first - except today.

Tony arrived only ten minutes later; a shit eating grin spreading over his whole face as he saw Loki. "Well, well... Eager, are we, Reindeer Games?" Loki just rolled his eyes; certainly didn't have the nerves for the billionaire's stupid little games.

"Mind your own business, Stark."

Tony sucked in a breath through his teeth. "Oooh and we're already in diva mode?" The god clenched his jaw; was about to say something not exactly nice to the billionaire, when a booming voice cut through the air. "Ahhh, brother!" It was Thor, of course.

The god walked over to Loki and Tony with a broad smile on his face. "Finally, the time has come! We're on a mission again together!" He said happily, giving Loki a harsh slap on the shoulder. Loki coughed, "Yes, brother, I am thrilled." and glared at Thor - who didn't even notice his younger sibling's discomfort.

"Ah! Don't fret, brother!" Loki rolled his eyes subtly; already questioning his life choices. But when he crossed his arms over his armour clad chest and slightly shook his head, the god's eyes suddenly caught a glimpse of somebody approaching the team. It was Natasha - and you. Loki's gaze immediately got stuck on you - against his will; eyes widening. "This is going to be..." Thor's words faded as Loki's mouth fell agape and suddenly the world seemed to turn in slow motion around him.

You walked casually beside the Widow; your Y/H/C untamed hair flying in the wind. Unlike Natasha, you wore a white and black body suit. Several pockets were attached to it. For comms, weapons and other gear. It was tactical and convenient, but also form-fitting and especially tight. It showed off your curves to perfection - and by the holy roots of Yggdrasil... You looked stunningly sexy. Not that Loki didn't see you before in your mission gear - but you had never worn something like that before.

"Norns, give me strength..." Loki whispered, before he was able to prevent it; attracting Thor's attention. "What did you just say, brother?" "Nothing!" Loki almost shouted in slight panic, before clearing his throat. Get a hold of yourself, Laufeyson!

"I mean... Nothing. I didn't say a word."

What the god didn't think of, was that his eyes were still locked on the beautiful woman only a few meters away from him - and Thor noticed; raised an suspicious eyebrow, as he followed Loki's gaze. "Um, brother, you're staring."

Fuck.

Loki's eyes widened even more; cheeks turning pink as he quickly pulled his gaze off you. "No, I'm not! You must be blind, brother! Or hallucinating!"

Thor wasn't stupid, though. He knew exactly what he saw - and Loki's reaction only proved his assumption to be right. The god said nothing, only smiled, before he went to greet his fellow team mates.

"Ah, greetings, Lady Romanoff and Lady Y/N!" Natasha gave him a smile and a nod. "Hey Thunderboy." You smiled and waved at him. "Hi Thor!" While the Black Widow went to join Tony already on the Quinjet, you walked up to the Asgardian princes - which caused Loki to get slightly nervous.

"Is that new a new armour I see on you, Lady Y/N?" You giggled; nodding. "It is. Nat told me to try something new and I needed anyway something more... functional, so... Do you like it?" You turned in a circle; showing off your new outfit - much to Loki's dismay. He felt his breath hitching in his throat; his chest seemingly growing tighter - just like the space within the front of his leather trousers.

By Odin's beard... How am I supposed to survive this mission?

"It suits you very well, Lady Y/N!" "Thanks, Thor." Then you turned to Loki. "How do you like it, Mischief?"

Like it? LIKE IT?! I love it. It makes me want to pin you against the wall of the Quinjet and ravish you right then and there.

"I agree with my brother."

"Thanks! Now, let's go, boys. I bet Tony's waiting already for us and we don't want to make our diva angry, do we?" You prompted; already entering the Quinjet - which caused the fabric of your suit to bend and stretch around certain body parts even more.

Shit...

You sat alone in a corner of the Quinjet; checking your weapons and mentally preparing yourself for the task ahead, since Tony had announced that you'd arrive soon. Then you heard steps approaching you. Familiar steps. You didn't even have to look up to check who it was. You knew.

"What's up, Nat?"

Your best friend sat down beside you. From the corner of your eye, you could see that she had already changed. A beautiful black, long-sleeved dress was hiding her catsuit underneath. She looked stunning - as always.

"He's into you."

You frowned immediately; were taken aback by the Widow's words. Nat was definitely not somebody who beat about the bush...

You looked up to face her; seeing her lips curled upwards in a smirk.

"W-What, I- Who?"

"Laufeyson." Natasha spoke out the god's name without even blinking; kind of shocking you.

"Whaaat?" You laughed; shaking your head. "No fucking way. I mean, yes, he probably likes my body - like the handsome naughty little shit he is, but that doesn't mean he likes me. Loki has a lot of women and men..." Natasha raised an accusing eyebrow. "Babes, no... Sorry to disappoint you, but Loki didn't have somebody in months."

You frowned. "How do you know that?" Your best friend shrugged her shoulders. "Bruce's apartment is across his and trust me, babe... I hear if he's giving somebody a really good time, 'cause fucking hell, he apparently does." You almost choked on your own spit by her words. "Nat! You cheeky minx!" Again you got just a shrug, accompanied by a grin.

"Okay, let's say you're right... That doesn't mean he's into me." The Russian beauty rolled her eyes. "Y/N... Sorry to say that, but... Are you blind? I don't mean what happened earlier. Sure, his eyes almost popped out of his head, seeing you like this - but that was just another proof." Now you were the one raising both your eyebrows.

"Another proof? What is that supposed to mean now?" Your best friend giggled; shaking her head. "You really didn't notice." "Notice what?" You asked almost desperately know. "The way he's looking at you? How his mood always seems to lift when you're in the room? He smiles - as soon as you're around him. The way he opens up to you? How kind he is to you?" You blinked; staring at your best friend.

"Uhhh, no? I, um, no..." "You should pay a bit more attention then," Nat said; winking. You were still a bit stunned and overwhelmed by those 'news'. That was never your intention. "I... I didn't mean to... I was just trying to be kind. I always knew there's more in Loki than just the bad guy everybody thinks he is. All I wanted was to give him what he deserves... A second chance and a way to proof everybody wrong."

The Widow smiled; placing a hand on your shoulder. "Well... It seems like you were successful in bringing out this other side of him. There is more. You were right about that. But it also seems like you tickled something else awake inside of him... Feelings." "Feelings?" "Feelings. That man is head over heels for you." You bit your lip. That wasn't what I wanted... "Are you sure?" Natasha stood up again, "To 100 per cent." and walked away with a smile; leaving you and your thoughts alone.

You sighed; leaning back against the wall. Your head hitting the metal with a soft thud. You couldn't help but to think about what Natasha said. He's into you. Perhaps it was true and your best friend right, but... What were you feeling? Was his love... requited?

You swallowed. Sure, he was the most handsome man you had ever laid eyes upon, with his long, raven curls, chiselled face and trained body. You loved his wit, how utterly charming he could be, how eloquent he was, how well-read, smart and his other-worldly humour. You liked to spent time with him and talk to him. You'd even go as far and say you were some kind of friends, but love? Not yet.

But when you closed your eyes and thought of Loki, you could easily picture a future with him as a couple - and who knew... Perhaps it was going to happen.

Okay, maybe you had a tiny crush on him.

"Alright. Everybody knows what to do. Let's get those documents, so we can finally make sure that this asshole gets behind bars," Tony spoke and everyone nodded.

The mission was... Well, you wouldn't exactly say easy, but with a good team perfectly manageable. The Avengers got the assignment to help the police to get one of the biggest drug dealers of America - and literally the whole world finally behind bars. Bernardi had always managed to slip the F.B.I through their fingers the past years. Now it had to end - and it was going to.

Today was a big gala in New Haven, Connecticut - the best chance to get Bernardi. But to finally convict him, important documents of the next big drug deal were needed - and they laid safely in a safe in his security monitored and secured suite in the big building, where also the gala took place.

The plan? Tony was going to hack the security camera systems, to make you and Loki - who were going to sneak through the ventilation shafts of the building and actually 'steal' the documents. Nat was going to attend the gala with Thor as her backup and caused distraction - if needed. This time, it was no 'going like a bull at a gate' task. It was no big fight or war. It was some kind of movie like spy mission - and you were hyped.

You didn't understand first, why Tony hadn't sent you and Nat to get the documents, but then you realised that Loki and Thor probably weren't the best duo to attend the gala together. Their cover would probably blow up faster than Tony's patience...

"Y/N, are you coming?" The soft, low timbre of Loki urged to your ears; causing you to blink and snap out of your thoughts. "On my way." You checked if you had everything you needed, then joined your team mate. "Ready, partner?" Loki smiled; gesturing for you to walk down the ramp of the Quinjet. "Lead the way, milady."

Tony had given you the exact positions, coordinates and maps. Loki 'was just your helper' - like the billionaire put it and 'had to follow your orders'.

You sneaked around the big building at the dead of night; looking for the exit of the ventilation shafts. You were quick to find the exact one Tony told you to find and quietly removed the grid, while Loki's eyes scanned the area for any 'intruders'.

"Let's go." You grabbed Loki's attention with your words; nodding towards the ventilation shaft. Just when you were about to climb inside, Loki stopped you. "Y/N, wait! I, uh, I think I should go first." You turned to face him; looking a bit confused. "Why? That wouldn't make sense, Mischief. I have the maps. I know where to go. That's why I..." You climbed inside the ventilation shaft. "... go first. Now come!" Unbeknownst to you, squeezed Loki his eyes shut; face scrunching. "Loki!" "Coming!"

He sighed, then followed you. It was dark inside, of course, but you had your torch and Loki, well, his seidr. Nevertheless, the light source in addition with his position gave Loki the perfect view of your ass; sending shivers down the god's spine. Exactly what he wanted to prevent. Sure, he enjoyed the view, but it was also torturous. You were close and yet so far. "Norns... Can this evening get any worse?" He mumbled underneath his breath, while crawling behind you. "What did you say?"

"Oh, nothing!"

After crawling through the tight, dark space and crossing endless corners for what felt like eternity, you finally announced that you and Loki had reached the destination - the tenth floor of the building.

"Oh!" You abruptly stopped; causing Loki to almost bump head first in your bottom - head first. "What?" "I think we made it. According to Tony's plans, this must be the exit we have to take. The tenth floor." "Let us do that then. My knees hurt." You giggled; working on getting the hatchway open. "Not used to kneel a lot, are we?" "Sounds like you are." Loki answered dryly, without even blinking - and your jaw almost dropped. A blush creeping up your cheeks. He just couldn't help himself. You had given him the perfect opportunity.

"No! I-I mean... I do a lot of work on missions which affords... Kneeling and crawling." The god nodded, but gave you a cheeky smile. "Sure, Y/N. I do kneel from time to time, too."

Gods... You felt the heat in your cheeks increasing, so you busied yourself even more with the hatchway - and to your sheer relief it clicked open mere seconds later. Carefully, you peeked out; head first, looking for any signs of security guards. "Not a single soul to be seen. The coast is clear." You sat up; ready to jump, when your partner stopped you for the second time. "Allow me to go first this time." "Alright." Loki jumped and you followed; the hatchway falling close behind you.

The hallway you had landed in was big with white, clean walls and a black tiled floor. It reminded you of a hotel, but also didn't look like such at all.

"Where to now, milady?" Loki whispered; just in case. "We have to find Bernardi's room," you answered in a hushed voice; pointing down the hallway. "This way." The god nodded; following close behind. So, you sneaked down the hallways; crossing each corner carefully. Another look on the map told you that you weren't far from your destination, when you suddenly heard voices - and they came from behind you.

"Securityguards!" You whisper-yelled at Loki, who looked surprisingly just as panicky as you did. Well, after all you were in a hallway... Not exactly many opportunities to hide there. Loki was about to just teleport you somewhere else, but before he could make use of his magic, you had reacted faster and literally shoved him inside a little broom closet you had spotted mere seconds ago. With one hand clasped over his mouth, the other gripping the lapels of his leather coat tightly and your back stemmed against the door, you hid away from the nearing threat. It caught Loki completely off-guard of course, but he found himself once more enjoying the situation. Your touch. The roughness of it. He liked it.

Once you were sure he wouldn't make a single sound, you let go of him. "Sorry. I just had to make sure that-" "I know," he interrupted you, nodding. You nodded back at him; staying quiet. You had to wait until the security men passed. Unfortunately, though, the broom closet was everything but spacious. Quite the opposite... tiny. And with cleaning supplies all around the two of you, it was a really tight fit. So tight, that body contact was inevitable. Your chest almost touched his. You were so close, you could feel his minty breath on your face. Loki's chiselled bone structure looked even more handsome from this point of view - and dear god, had he always smelled that good? Like a mix out of leather, blood oranges and charred wood? You couldn't explain why, but it smelt so comfortable to you. So rich and musky, yet sweet.

You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath. Focus, Y/N, focus.

Unbeknownst to you, Loki had the exact same problem; struggling even harder. His hands almost trembled from holding back from touching you. He would've loved to just kiss you right here and now; your scent intoxicating him. But he couldn't, and he knew that.

"I think we're good to go," you breathed out then; slowly lurking through the crack of the door. "Come."

Loki had noticed the slight tremble in your voice - and it sparked something inside him... Hope. Perhaps he had a chance to win your heart. A chance he never thought he had. And maybe, just maybe he shouldn't see this mission as a burden, but as the first shot he could shoot.

Loki knew that women liked to be wooed. So, he decided to try to impress you. After all, he had conquered already a lot of hearts. He knew how it worked. But you... You were different. You had conquered his heart first - and you didn't even know it.

Wordlessly, the god followed you, until you had reached Bernardi's room. A complicated lock adorned the door. Easy access? No chance. "Alright," you stated; switching on your communication device. "Tony. We're standing in front of the room. Pick the lock." The billionaire answered immediately. "Consider it done, Y/N." "Perfect."

Tony's 'consider it done' took longer than you anticipated... Almost fifteen minutes had ticked by and the electric lock still hadn't moved an inch.

"Hey Tony, what's taking so long?" "It's more complicated than I thought. Give me another minute."

And even another minute wasn't enough. So slowly, Loki grew impatient. After all was the risk very high of getting caught by security guards any momenr. Rolling his eyes, he stepped over to the door and placed his hand on the lock. "Loki? What are you doing?" You asked, eyes widening. "Unlocking this damn lock." You blinked. "And, uh, how?" The god gave you a smirk; "Seidr, darling." winking.

Not even a second after he said that, a green cloud enveloped the lock - and it clicked open. Your jaw dropped. "Woah... That's... That's pretty cool."

Step one of impressing Y/N: Done.

"Tony, we got it." "Yes, I can see that... How?!" You smiled; following Loki inside the room. "Mischief." You could practically hear how Tony rolled his eyes at your answer.

After tiptoeing through the big, spacious room and 'stealing' the documents like professionals; you and your partner left again, as if nothing happened. Loki even managed to fix the lock with his magic.

"Let's get out of here, shall we?" You nodded; checking your watch. "We should, yes. The 10 o'clock patrol will pass this hallway in exact... ten minutes. Either we hurry, or tell Thor and Nat to distract them." "I know I have no say in this mission, but I would recommend option two, Y/N. Better safe than- uh... How's this Midgardian saying going again?" You giggled - music to Loki's ears. "Better be safe than sorry." "That's it, yes. Thank you." "I guess you're right... Nat, can you hear me?" "Loud and clear, babes." "Perfect. Can you and Thor distract the 10 o'clock patrol up here? We won't make it in time." "Sure thing!"

Well, unfortunately, it turned out they couldn't...

Just as the two of you rounded the corner into the hallway of the ventilation shaft, rounded a group of five security guards the other corner. You and Loki stopped immediately in your track; standing like frozen to the ground. "Well... Now we have a problem." The guards noticed you, of course, immediately. One of them gave you an angry look. "Indeed we have," the bulky man snarled; switching on his walkie-talkie. "We have intruders on the tenth floor. Most likely burglars; calling for back-up." "Understood, Sir. Back-up is on the way."

Now you were really fucked.

You sighed; cracking your neck and prepared to fight. "Guess we'll have to-" That was the moment Loki had waited for. The ultimate chance to impress you. His hand on your arm interrupted you; pulling you gently behind himself. "Stay behind me, darling. I am going to take care of this little... issue." Loki stepped slowly forwards - like a wolf stalking its prey; read to fight, when suddenly something caught his attention... A small loudspeaker box hanging high up in the corner where both hallways met.

Smiling mischievously; he snapped his fingers. Let's put on a little show for the lady.

The security guards didn't know what was coming their way. Especially not as 'Holding Out for a Hero' by Bonnie Tyler started to echo through the empty hallways. And before any of them could react, Loki had already started his attack. Unlucky for the men, they were just as surprised and kind of shocked how you were. The god moved gracefully; dodging here a kick and there a punch. The security guards didn't stand a single chance. Not even the back-up - and by the end of the song, Loki had knocked out every single man who had stood in his way.

You just stood there; mouth agape and not quite knowing what to do or think. Loki though, had a victorious, smug and self-confident smirk on his face. Running a hand smoothly through his black curls, he leaned casually against the wall. "There we go. They won't bother us anymore."

Loki didn't quite know what he anticipated of your reaction. A nervous smile perhaps. Reddened cheeks or a impressed facial expression - but he certainly didn't anticipated what came his way... "Umm... Thank you? But I could've taken care of them as well. I know, uh, how to fight."

The god had a hard time hiding the shock on his face. And the embarrassment, which followed only a few seconds later. She didn't like it. She thinks I'm stupid. I made a fool out of myself. He face-palmed himself internally.

Swallowing nervously and clearing his throat, Loki stepped away from the wall again; trying to somehow 'save' this situation. "Sure, I... I know that, of course, Y/N. I just... wanted to be... nice." "Well, I appreciate it. Thanks." Before an awkward silence could settle between you and him; the god cleared his throat once more. "We, um, we should leave." You nodded, "We should, yes." and watched him turn on his heels; quickly walking away.

Therefore, Loki couldn't see how a dazzling smile spread across your face. Whatever it was what he just did - or tried to do... It was very sweet of him.

The rest of the mission went smoothly. You and Loki made it safely and uncaught out of the building.

When you reached the Quinjet, Natasha stood on the ramp, already changed in her black bodysuit; grinning. She said not a single word as you and Loki passed her by, just kept grinning. You gave your best friend a confused look; mouthing: "What?" All she did was winking, before she followed you as the ramp closed shut behind the three of you.

After you had handed Tony the documents and the Quinjet was in the air again; heading towards New York, you decided to seek out the Widow.

"What was that grinning about, huh?" You gently poked her side to get your best friend's attention. She turned to face you; smiling again. "Oh, nothing. Just Loki fighting off thirty guys alone," Nat said with a wink. "And this got you smiling, because...?" You looked expectantly at her, not quite getting what she was insisting.

"Gods, Y/N/N... You truly are blind," Nat stated; shaking her head and crossed her arms over her chest, before she walked towards the metallic door. "He did that in order to impress and most likely to protect you. That man is in love with you. Open up your eyes, babes."

The Quinjet landed quite late at night on the compound. Only a few lights were on; signalling that most of the other Avengers were already asleep.

"Alright, guys. See tomorrow," you bid your goodbye to your fellow teammates. After hugging Natasha, you turned to Loki. "Good night, Mischief." The god gave you a soft smile. "Good night." Then you turned and walked away; following Nat and Tony.

While Loki couldn't help himself, but to stare after you with mixed feelings about the last few hours coiling within his stomach, Thor came to stand beside him.

"You are staring again, brother." He stated simply; smiling. "I'm not-" Loki wanted to immediately reject Thor, but the God of Thunder spoke faster. "Do not try to deny it, Loki. I saw everything. You tried to impress Lady Y/N with fighting off those men." Loki's eyes widened at Thor's words - proofing the god to be right. "You... saw that?" "Yes, brother. We all did."

Loki squeezed his eyes shut. The cameras.

He couldn't control his body longer; a blush creeping up his cheeks. Thor laughed heartily; clapping him on the shoulder. "No need to be ashamed, brother. I am truly happy you found love - and Lady Y/N is a great woman, if I might say so."

Loki grumbled, but knew very well that he had lost this game. "I don't think Y/N feels the same, brother. I made a fool out of myself. I will never win her heart."

Thor wrapped his arm around Loki's shoulder, shaking his head. "No, you did not make a fool out of yourself. I tried to impress Jane a lot of times and failed." "Yes, because you're an oafish ape. I'm not," Loki mumbled under his breath; inaudible for Thor. "Don't you give up. One day, Lady Y/N will be yours."

After the kind of awkward conversation with his brother, Loki headed straight to his little apartment in the tower. He considered to go to bed straight away, in order to escape the hold you had on him, but he also was aware that his mind wouldn't switch itself off so easily. So, instead to forget you, he decided to fully indulge in his thoughts, heartache and fantasies, and took a very long shower; whimpering your name over and over again in his throes of pleasure at the imagination of you in that damn body suit.

Now the god was standing naked in front of the sink; staring at himself in the mirror. His damp raven curls falling loosely over his shoulders; pecs still glistening with water, causing a few single water droplets to drip from his chest hair.

Loki took a deep breath; shaking his head. "I'm fool... I'm such a fool..." With one simple snap of his fingers, he was perfectly dry. He sighed. "... and hopelessly in love."

After slipping into a fresh pair of boxershorts, he went to bed; laying awake for seconds. Minutes. Hours? Just like he anticipated. The god stared at the dark ceiling above him, arms crossed behind his neck; thinking. Until suddenly his mobile vibrated for a second; announcing that he just received a message. Frowning, Loki turned to reach for his phone on the bedside table and unlocked it - only for his eyes to widen. You... It was a message from you. Quickly, he entered the chat to read it.

Hey, Mischief. Just wanted to say thank you again for fighting off the bad guys. Very cute. Thanks.

Loki's whole face lit up. Cute? He was smiling so bright, like he had probably never did in his life before. She thinks I'm cute? His heart skipped a joyful beat.

Perhaps was his brother right... Perhaps hope wasn't lost yet and one day... One day you will be his.

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath You take (1)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, Bucky x Alpine (platonic)

Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, bitchy boss, secret admirer trope, voyeurism

A/N: We start slowly to get to know them and their backstory. In this part, we will get to know Y/N better.

A/N2: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (Prologue)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

You’re chewing on your lower lip, humming at something your boss said. He’s boring as hell and so demanding. With his hands on his hips, he glares at your lunch as if he wants to turn it to ashes.

All you want to do is tell him to leave you alone during lunch break. You’re just too polite and nice to do so. 

He can bug you during work time, but not in the precious moments you use to catch up on the latest gossip on your phone. 

You were about to read about an affair Tony Stark had with an intern. Fake news, you’re fairly sure, but it’s still entertaining reading all the furious and stupid comments.

“Sure,” you nod and make a mental note, hopefully not forgetting about his next demand before you reach your desk to write it down. “Right after my lunch break.” You point out and give him a fake smile.

“You better hurry,” he snaps at you and storms off. “If not, you can look for a new job.”

He cannot fire you per se. Your boss is not as important as he thinks he is. One word to the HR and he can kiss his ass goodbye.

You’re just indifferent when it comes to your boss and his antics. You prefer to ignore his sometimes nasty comments.

The world is cold and unfriendly enough. You don’t want to be the kind of person adding more hatred to this world.

Bucky aimlessly strolls through the streets. He prepared everything for tonight, and now he’s a little lost because you are still at work.

It became his obsession to make sure you came home safely. He’d kill the time, window shopping or imagining how’d feel to hold your hand.

Time. Bucky needs more time to prepare himself to meet you for real. 

He wants your first date to be perfect. Therefore, he must watch you a little longer to get to know you better. – At least that’s how he justifies he’s following you like a shadow for the better of three weeks.

Bucky stops in front of your favorite bookstore, he looks out the window, wondering if he should buy you a book and gift it to you this week, or wait a little longer. 

He shakes his head. No. Bucky will start with the usual gift. Flowers. He saw you carry flowers inside your apartment over the last weeks more than once.

You love flowers, and he will find out which ones you love the most. Bucky doesn’t want to gift you the wrong flowers and disappoint you.

He already has a plan. According to your schedule – which he knows by heart – you will go to the little café close to your home. The perfect opportunity to sneak inside your apartment and get to know you even better.

Bucky will take any chance to make you see he’s more than his bad reputation. To the people out there he’s still the Winter Soldier. He doesn’t want you to think the same about him.

All he wants is to keep you safe and happy. Bucky’s new mission is the most important one he ever had. 

For today, he will wait patiently to follow you home, making sure you’re safe. There are many dangerous people out there, wanting to hurt or take advantage of a lovely person like you.

“Phew, home sweet home,” you sigh and plop down onto your sofa. You’re tired, and hungry and would kill to have someone to massage your shoulders. “What a shitty day.”

You hate to get back up, but you need a shower and search your fridge to find anything eatable. Your boss made sure you were working overtime, and you didn’t have the energy left to buy groceries.

Slowly getting back up, you sigh. You’d love to fall asleep right here on the couch, but it won’t do you any good.

Instead of sleeping, you walk out of the living room to have a shower. There’s still enough time left to watch your favorite show and eat leftovers from your fridge.

“She looks tired,” Bucky worriedly watches you with his binoculars when you walk back inside your living room. You yawn and rub your tired eyes. “She’s wearing cute pajamas, Alpine.”

Your secret admirer swoons. “Isn’t our girl beautiful?” He dips his head to look at Alpine sitting on his lap. The white cat meows and rubs his cheek into Bucky’s shirt. “She’ll be such a good mommy for you.”

Bucky pats Alpine’s head, gently murmuring the cat’s name. Alpine is his only companion, and he wants the cat to love you too.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers while lifting the binoculars to his eyes again, “she’s a wonderful and kind person. Y/N will love you too.”

Bucky inhales deeply as he presses your shirt to his nose. He’d love to take it with him, but for now, the top and panties he found under your bed must do. Bucky cannot risk taking more of your things right now.

In due time, he will take more of your things to bring them to the house he plans to buy for you and him. He’s already ahead of his plans, but Bucky never felt like this again. Not since Hydra turned him into a monster everyone still fears.

“Soon,” he hums and walks around your bedroom. Bucky takes his time, and even risks lying in your bed for a moment. He sniffs at your pillow, inhaling your scent deeply. 

Bucky sighs. He can’t risk leaving his scent on your sheets and must slip out of your bed too soon for his liking.

Time. He needs more time. Bucky tells himself all over again. He cannot risk scaring you off, or that you’ll be afraid of him.

He’s a protector, not a villain.

Bucky slowly walks out of your bedroom and inside your bathroom. He wants to know more about the products you like, and maybe sniff at your perfume too.

You’re still at work, and he has all the time in the world before he will pick you up from work and bring you home. In his mind. – He cannot turn up at your workplace and offer you a ride home. Not yet.

Bucky lurks around the corner to watch you walk out of the building. You’re angrily wiping your eyes and even cussing. Something you never did before.

“Who hurt you, doll?” He asks himself, and the person delivers the answer on a silver plate.

Your boss storms after you, calling you a dumb bimbo while throwing a tantrum like a man-child. 

Bucky squares his jaw. He clenches and unclenches his metal fist, ready to beat your boss into a bloody pulp.

No—not now. Not here. He will bring you home first and come back. Bucky will avenge you, and make sure your boss will never dare to raise his voice around you again.

Every Breath You Take (2)

Tags in reblog.

[specialagentlokitty]

Tony DiNozzo x reader - stay with you

I was wondering if you could please write something about NCIS. Perhaps Tony helps you..his girlfriend or what he hopes could be a potential girlfriend... fall asleep as he found out the reader has been having bad insomnia for the past 4 nights and maybe at most you've gotten 3 hours of sleep a night since Friday night but now it's Monday night and enough is enough - @happygirl-0408 💜

Tony had a huge flirt, everybody knew that, and so did you because he spent most of his time flirting with you.

Which meant he also spent a lot of time admiring you, and being near you.

So when he noticed a huge dip in your energy, how snappy you were and how drained you seemed to be he immediately became worried.

Sitting across from you, he watched as you patted around your desk, seemingly lost in your own world or unable to focus on what you were doing.

You finally grabbed your up and picked it up, bringing it to your mouth before you stopped a looked in it with a sigh.

“Want a coffee?” You asked.

“No, I’m good thanks.”

Tony watched as you slowly stood, bumping into your desk.

“Alright thats it.”

Walking over, he took your cup and set it down, easing you back into your seat.

“What’s going on with you?” He asked.

“Huh? Nothing.”

Tony frowned.

“That is the fifth coffee you’ve had in the past hour, you’re hardly paying attention and you just walked into your desk.”

“Sometimes people walk into things DiNozzo..” you grumbled.

“I have known you for nearly five years and you have never, ever, walked into that desk.”

You glanced at him before immediately looking away, and he caught the redness of your eyes.

It clicked pretty quickly after that.

“When was the last time you slept?”

You shrugged a little.

“Not long ago.”

“When?”

You let out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t know three… four days maybe…”

“Jesus Christ, why? Why haven’t you slept? Why did you come in?”

“Cause I got bored of sitting in bed trying to sleep.” You snapped.

He looked at his watch before grabbing your bag and jacket, turning your computer screen off.

“It’s that time anyway, come on.”

“Where?”

Tony held your jacket out for you.

“Just come on, did you drive here? Please tell me for the love of everything you didn’t.”

“I’m not that stupid, I got a cab.”

He nodded, helping you into your jacket before walking you to the elevator, swinging his keys from his finger.

Despite you asking again and again he refused to tell you what he was planning, and you were just to tired to push it any further.

He helped you into his car, and drove you to your apartment, helping you inside.

“Right, go change.”

He walked away and you padded to the bedroom, throwing yourself in the bed again.

You could hear the bath running, and soon Tony came through and looked at you.

“If you choose what to sleep in I’m choosing for you.”

You grumbled a little, burying your face into the pillow.

“I warned you.”

Tony wasn’t actually going to rummage through your draws, but he knew you liked to hang up your hoodies and sweatpants in the wardrobe, so that’s where he went.

“I’m not getting anything else, here.”

He dropped them on you and left the room, letting you gather the rest of your clothes and you padded into the bathroom.

He had run you a hot bath, and filled it with bubbles.

“Have a bath, I’ll figure something out for dinner, then we’ll watch some of those horrible films you love so much.”

You laughed weakly, and nodded, closing the door as he left the bathroom and you happily climbed into the hot water.

It eased some of the tension in your muscles, and it was relaxing, but still not enough to sleep.

But true to his word Tony made you a light dinner, then he covered you in a blanket and got you to lay down.

He sat in front of you on the floor, silently, hoping you would sleep but you wouldn’t.

With a sigh, he got up, lifted your head and sat down, putting a pillow on his lap then resting your head on it, gently messaging your head.

“You need to sleep..” he whispered.

“Don’t leave..” you mumbled.

Tony smile a little.

“I won’t I promise, just try sleep.”

You nodded and closed your eyes.

Tony didn’t know if you were going to sleep, but he would sleep on your couch until he was sure you had slept enough

[ghouldtime]

Ghost'ed

Been thinking about literal Ghost! Ghost. Maybe it's playing too many ghost hunting games or watching too many shows but I cannot stop thinking about it. You also cannot convince me this man wouldn't be a restless spirit. His entire life is troubled and I don't see him going down in a peaceful way or leaving until he feels the job is done - and likely ending up trapped as a result

I wrote this at work so sorry in advance for any typos or slip ups!

💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

Ghost hunting wasn’t exactly what most people would list in "Top ten relaxing hobbies" - but it's not like you were most people. You were simply you. The same you who thought spending your time speculating about spooky specters was one of the best ways to pass by those few stretches of free time that could be all too fleeting in the hellscape known as adulthood.

The stares that followed you when you announced paranormal investigation as a hobby was something you knew all too well. After all, telling someone you’re a ghost hunter only stood as a slightly more socially acceptable version of telling them you believed in bigfoot (you did, but that’s beside the point). The dozens of cheesy TV shows certainly popularized it but they did little to help with the perception of it.

When the face of popular ghost hunting media was full of grown men who screamed like a squirrel high on helium at every little thump of a house settling, it did little to help what people automatically thought of when they heard of your unique hobby. Plenty still turned their noses up, scoffed slightly as they rolled their eyes and sneered, “Aren’t you too old to be doing that?” 

Or worse. They gave a tight-lipped smile, nodded, and crinkled their eyes as they said, "Oh, interesting." While the tension in their body told of holding back laughter or wanting to bolt right on out of there, far far away from you.

Quite frankly, you didn't care what they said anymore as it was your life to live, not theirs. You’d seen enough to know without a fraction of a doubt that there was more beyond the veil of life itself, hiding just out of sight. The hundreds of hours you spent wandering dark hallways and dilapidated ruins with nothing but your flashlight and ghost box proved otherwise. At least it proved it to you.

Proving it to others was a horse of another color. Skeptics who spit their criticism loud enough to deafen even the most positive prevalent of voices in the community were a dime a dozen. Unfortunately, their existence was as certain as the sky is blue. Skepticism was apart of human nature, after all. They would always exist as long as the day and night kept up their eternal dance.

Convincing them was a fruitless effort. You'd sooner be able to convince hippos to fly than you'd convince them of the truth you knew. Trying to get everyone to agree, to acknowledge the paranormal, was hopeless and something you certainly weren't going to waste your life on no matter what they called your or what they said.

As far as you were concerned, being paid to sit in the dark alone and find evidence of life beyond the grimy waters of death itself was a pretty sweet gig. The naysayers could seethe in their own jealousy all they wanted because at the end of the day, you’re getting paid to do what you love. That they never could take away from you.

They'd never be able to have the same thrill that you did as you took on another case, ready to see even more of what the phantasmal realm had to offer.

Anticipation, nervousness, and excitement rolled together in a palpable energy you hid beneath a calmer exterior every time you took a job. There always would be that wonder there, the question of what exactly you might find dangling just out of reach, the hope that maybe, just maybe you might see even more than you already have. Another chance to investigate meant yet another night spent lurking in the shadows, tirelessly trying to find more evidence of the great world beyond the grave and its inhabitants. Tonight certainly would be no different.

An older couple quite reluctantly booked an appointment for a standard investigation after mysterious things that they really could not explain, no matter how they went about it, happened time and time again. They'd tried to ignore it, they said, but it only got worse.

Footsteps that echoed through the house at first in a gentle patter had become confident strides. When they went to look, no one was there. Doors that used to slowly creak open, as if blown by the wind, instead started to rattle the frame with force as they opened or slammed in the middle of the night. The husband looked particularly miffed when he groused about the TV going on at odd hours of the night, while his wife seemed more concerned about the possibility of someone having broken in and the fact that it kept doubling in intensity as time went on. The list went on and on about their complaints ranging from things being moved around to always finding a light turned on in a room in the middle of the night. There most certainly was something going on if all of what they were saying was true.

The glaring parade of red flags that easily would send others running for the hills lured you in. Like a dog with a scent, you weren't going to drop the trail, oh no. You were there to sink your teeth and claws in and not let go. Come hell, heaven, or high water - nothing would stopping you.

True to your title, you were a paranormal investigator which warranted a lot more work and professionalism than the standard ghost hunters you saw on TV who couldn't tell the difference between a gust of wind and a ghost. Your job was to research, conduct a proper paranormal investigation, and provide your evidence - or lack of, if it was truly devoid of haunting. But here hardly sounded like it.

Taking your time and reassuring them that you were, indeed, a professional, you went over all the usual questions with them: when did this start, how old is your house, any history of deaths in it, have you acquired any new items recently, do you have any items that were second hand or antique, any family heirlooms in the house, was it in any particular location, etc etc.

Every angle had to be considered, especially the mundane. Plenty of times, people just had a poorly constructed house, deeply held superstitions, and a touch of paranoia to make for a perfect combination of nothing happening at all. That didn’t seem to be the case here, however. While none of their answers pointed in a clear direction of what it might be, it still all pointed to signs of something unworldly happening. But that's what you were there for. To determine if there actually was a ghost, why it was there, and maybe who it was (if things went well and it felt like cooperating). 

You bid them a good night as they headed off with family friends in a beat up convertible, chattering away without a care in the world as if they didn’t have a paranormal parasite problem. At least they were going to go enjoy their night by having an evening out instead of breathing down your neck like some of those who hired you. Locking the door, you trudged in with your gear and began the initial inspection with practiced ease.

A haunting in a house as young and modern as theirs was quite unusual. Open, airy rooms completed with white, sleek, almost eye-hurtingly clean interiors made up the entirety of the house. Even as night crawled higher and higher into the sky, pulling its dark cloak over the land, the house stayed bright. Nothing about it said haunted or caught your eye. The scariest thing there was likely the heating bill. 

As far as your research showed, there hadn't been a death in it or on the land. The owners also seemed quite appalled at the idea of antiques (go figure) so that went right out the window, too. Normally there might be some stashed somewhere that they weren't thinking about, like the attic, but this house didn’t even have that. No basement, no attic, no creepy graveyard in the back; it was a normal, suburban house that shouldn’t have anything going on.

Perusing the house at a leisurely pace, you browsed each and every room with a thorough consciousness of finding something, anything, that could possibly have started it. Yet you turned up empty handed. Everything was as pure and alabaster as the marble countertops and the expensive sleek metal furniture. 

Oh well, not every job would be easy. And not every haunted house was obligated to look run-down and rustic. Some ghosts just had more upper class tastes - or were unfortunate enough to be stuck in an eyesore like this. Maybe a ghost would add some actual personality to their home...

Seeing as they'd said there wasn't exactly a rhyme or reason as to where things would happen, you decided a central room was your best bet. The living room was open enough for everything and an easy place any spirits could find. It had plenty of room for your equipment and the open layout meant you had a great vantage point for the whole house.

Preparing your gear came as naturally as breathing to you, the tasks you've done dozens of times over were a matter of habit. Moving through the motions was your second nature as you worked, not batting an eye as you checked batteries and strategically stationed your gear. It only took a matter of minutes to have your cameras, light system, motion activated interactable objects, ghost box, and the rest of your fancy gadgets set up all around the room.

Placed on the coffee table was your heaviest piece of equipment - your modified spirit box that you had made some special adjustments to just to make sure your results were as accurate as possible. The broken antenna and attached amp weren't standard, nor were the noise reducers, but they stood as a testament to why you were a professional and why you kept getting called out to different places. You knew how to get results and tuned every tiny thing to your needs. There was no room for error or doubt alike in an already uncertain field.

Double checking everything was ready to go once more once more, you plunged the room into somewhat true darkness as you drew the curtains shut and pressed the button on the spirit box, causing it to crackle to life. Speeding through the static of radio stations, it scanned the many frequencies in a blur, far too fast for any natural noise to come through. The whirring of it evened out into a constant, muffled background noise that you’d spent countless hours listening to. Its familiar hum lulled you into a relaxed state, your heart as steady as your calm breaths despite the slight buzz of familiar adrenaline you always felt when you first started. A small beep signaled the successful activation of the digital thermometer as you walked around in a slow, even pace, checking all around. 

Taking a deep breath, you began as you always had. In a confident, but even tone you called out, “Is there anyone with me right now?”

....

........

Silence.

The static of the spirit box continued to filter through in its usual constant churning hum of white noise. Typical. Many supernatural beings wouldn't want to interact, especially not at first. You don't blame them. If a stranger barged into your house and demanded if you were there, pestering you with questions as threw their belongings around, you'd not want to answer them either. That wasn’t even considering that many were so unused to people hearing them or trying to talk to them, not at them. They didn't exactly register on the same frequency that humans did most of the time.

Walking around the room, your boots echoed on the tile flooring. Your footsteps ricocheted off of the high ceilings, amplified by the lofty ceiling and wonderful acoustics this house apparently had. Keeping your attention ever shifting, you kept alert for signs of anything happening. Looking too long in the dark and expecting things to happen would only yield false results and cause paranoia. You knew far better than to do that. 

Nothing lit up, nothing beeped, nothing changed. There was conclusively nothing happening for the first few, long minutes as everything kept at an unwavering constant. Visiting each room, you rechecked their temperatures and tried to find anything amiss or out of place. Yet all seemed well, still, and normal.

Only when you crossed the hallway back into the living room after a quick visit to the bedrooms did your hair stand on end. A chill ran down your spine, the once warm air now holding the barest bite of cold on the edge. Holding up the thermometer, you narrowed your eyes at the steady decrease. While it wasn't quite freezing, it kept dropping and dropping. Numbers ticked lower and lower, your hair stood further on end as a small shiver ran through you as the chill dipped lower and lower. Bingo. First sign of activity of the night. It wasn’t much but it was plenty to know that something was happening here.

Despite the crisp chill, nothing else shifted in the room. Silence prevailed behind the distant drone of your equipment; mainly the comforting, steady typical static of the spirit box. Even the appliances seemed to have gone quiet, exchanging their usual low thrumming rhythm for a break that suspended them in a noiseless limbo.

Your shifting movements echoed far louder than you would have liked as you paced around the room, looking for something new, anything. An actual tangible reaction you could record would be just what you needed but so far, the haunt was holding out.  “What is your name?” You asked, keeping your voice as steady as you can as you tried to switch it up. 

Continual feedback from the spirit box sounded as steady as can be. Still, there was no voice trying to get through it. The fabricated noise reigned supreme as it did its job, whirring away. Pressing your lips into a thin line, the smallest hint of a frown tugged at your lips as disappointment flickered through you. Okay, that's fine. It usually took a few tries anyways. 

A faint, sparkling crackle escaped from it as you heard one, tiny word in a rumbling timbre. One, single word that halted you mid step, your head snapping towards the machine. 

“Ghost.”

Doing a double take, a grin split across your face as your heart jumped with joy. A response! A true, actual response. Not that it exactly answered your question but it meant something was listening.

There was something here!

Nearly tripping over your own feet, you scampered over to your beloved machine. Your eyes fixated on the glowing orange screen, gleaming with glee. 

“W-what’s your name?” You repeat a bit louder unable to hide the excited tremble in your voice or hands, figuring the ghost likely didn't hear you right. 

Static white noise continued for a few seconds, the little x in the corner flashed once, twice, before it lit up solidly. 

“Ghost.”

The smile you held dropped only for a fraction of a second before you cleared your throat. Well, maybe your slight stutter and excitement got in the way. You did talk fast when excited, after all. Taking a deep breath, undeterred as can be, you repeated in a far steadier voice, “What is your name?”

This time you made sure to enunciate every single syllable, speaking clear and confidently into the air. 

One flashing X glowed in the corner of the screen. Another flash. A third. Fourth. Fifth.

Yet again, the deep voice came a bit louder and rougher this time. A thick Mancunian accent that barely picked up through the filter didn't dull the single word you were trying to avoid, “Ghost.”

Okay. Your brows furrowed deeper, your nose wrinkling slightly as your heart sank. The minor disappointment couldn't be kept off of your face as you really had hoped to hear something else. Approach one clearly isn't working. 

Maybe he didn't speak English. Or maybe he wasn't sure that he was dead. Whatever. There was a ghost and he was answering, that's what mattered, you reminded yourself forcefully until the smile came back to your face and the smallest bit of a headache dissipated. Focus on that. Not on the slight annoyance you felt and the agitated twitch of your fingers.

Exhaling, you pursed your lips. Your grip retightened on your flashlight as you racked through questions in your mind, trying to find something that it would have to answer differently too. 

“Can you do something?”

Hopeful, your eyes trailed around the room, praying that maybe the ghost would do something like interact with the many objects scattered about, or even the motion sensors. 

Nothing happened for a few long moments, silence once again prevailing in the otherwise empty house.

Orange light flashed from the spirit box as the X lit up again, only for a second before the dreaded word repeated itself. 

“Ghost.”

Before you could ask what that even meant, or curse it out for that matter, the spirit box and your flashlight shut off, plunging you into true darkness. The flashlight nearly flew from your hands in surprise as you flinched instinctually, your heart leaping into your throat. Frantically flickering the button of your trusty tool did nothing as you desperately tried to turn on your one source of light with the only way you knew how - only to be met with the continual sight of empty, non-shining bulbs. 

Curses spilled from your lips in all the languages you knew as you fumbled for a battery pack, only to find them missing. What? But you swore that they were right there -- ugh, nevermind. This just wasn't going to be your night.

The initial panic subsided as the chill left the air, the residual regular warmth of the house sinking into the room as if blown in by a lazy breeze. Your hair still stood on end as you walked around with cautious, hesitant steps, having given up on the flashlight. There wasn't coming back from that.

It's only when you approached the spirit box, trying to turn it on to no avail, that you realized what he meant. You asked him to do something and he obliged.

He ghosted you. 

God fucking damn it. 

As you glared at the air in frustration, threw your hands up and personally cursed the fiend, you could've sworn you heard a resonating chuckle behind you as breath brushed against the nape of your neck in a way that sent shivers down your spine for a whole new reason.

[ironspidersblog]

This comic panel has me wheezing, I don’t know the context, but Tony’s stern dad energy in this photo is unmatched

Tony: pe- spider-man, get off the hulk right now

Peter: but dad-

Hulk, wondering why this child is hanging off of him like a bat: ????????

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.23

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

You were right that your coworker had wanted to introduce you to the group of people she’d been having a conversation with, but in their defense, they were incredibly friendly and hilarious. You felt good when they all asked for your number so you could keep in contact. 

This is exactly what you’d been hoping for when you decided to come, although you’ve already gotten more than you bargained for. Your gaze drifted over to the bar for the thousandth time that night. The redhead had long left to go socialize with the other party go-ers but you’d been replaying your interaction over and over. 

It was far from the kind of interaction you’d expected to have with her, and once your heart had finally had time to calm down you realized that you forgot to thank her for saving your life. 

But she wanted to see you again. She told you to find her. You still had the chance.

The room was beginning to get a bit stuffy and warm and you weren’t sure whether it was from the bodies or the alcohol, probably both. Either way, it made you crave fresh air so the second there was a break in the conversation you excused yourself. Your friend tossed you a concerned glance but you shook your head with a smile, assuring her that you were just needing some air.

The cool night air was a refreshing welcome compared to inside and you were glad to see you were the only one out there. 

You leaned against the wall and let the sounds of busy nighttime New York wash over you. The non-stop honking of cars and loud exclamations of drunk bar hoppers were a constant you were long familiar with. It was baseless noise for some but for you it was familiar. 

The view from the balcony was by far the best you’d ever experienced as well. Avengers Tower was one of the tallest buildings in New York and you could see why people were desperate to be invited. You’d pay good money just to see your city from this spot every night. 

You're caught up in your silent admiration when a figure appears next to you, taking up the wall space as they copy your body language and lean against the cool material with their arms crossed.

You look up at the figure, surprised to see Natasha’s soft smile peering down at you. She told you to find her later and yet here she was finding you. You hadn’t even heard her come outside.

You smile back at her, glad that the two of you got another chance to talk, this time in a more private location. You honestly weren’t sure if you were going to be able to see her again, it was nearing 1 AM and the party guests who hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to Tony yet were stubbornly determined to meet him despite their obvious exhaustion.

Even you were on the verge of slumping onto a very expensive couch and taking a nap but that didn’t seem very socially acceptable right now. But your energy has been fully renewed just by Nat’s presence. Nobody could ever say Nat didn’t have a superpower ever again.

Despite your exhaustion, Natasha doesn’t even look fazed despite having to make drinks and network all night. 

“You do this whole party thing too often don’t you?” 

She smirks at you, a look you’re much more familiar with than the soft smile she was giving you a second ago. 

“You have no idea” There’s an uproar of laughter from inside, coming from the crowd surrounding Stark, and Nat rolls her eyes as if proving her point.

A chill runs through your body when a strong breeze catches the wind. There were pros and cons to being up this high. It makes you remember when you were younger, everything was so tall compared to you. You used to have a fear of heights. You wondered if Natasha had a fear of heights when she was young. If she’s ever had a fear of anything or if she was always as fearless as the first time you saw her, defending the world from aliens.

The memory brings a soft smile to your face as you stare out at the city in silence. It was a shock to both you and your therapist when you’d smiled at the memory. Everything else from that day had been- awful. Months of sessions and breathing exercises and crying and you hadn’t been able to genuinely smile until you remembered her.

You supposed it was the way she carried herself, like nothing could touch her. Not even aliens. You’d laughed at that and your therapist stared at you wide-eyed like you were in the middle of a mental breakdown. She told you it had been a while since she’d heard someone laugh in her sessions- the world was so quiet for weeks after that terrifying day. You were too- until her.

Natasha Romanoff was your guiding light. For a while, she might’ve even been your obsession but the more mainstream the Avengers became the more you realized you just admired her as a woman. You were nothing like the fans who followed her every move- you just wanted a chance to thank her. And now you have it.

Turning to her, the hundreds of versions of thank yous that you’d written ran through your head and then filtered away just as you opened your mouth to speak. Nothing seemed grand enough to express how grateful you were, but maybe you didn’t need grand, maybe she didn’t need grand. Maybe all she needed was something simple- woman to woman.

“You know uhm- I actually kind of owe you my life” Her attention turns back on you, her head tilting as she gives you her full attention. 

“Oh?”

You nod, swallowing your nerves as you try to talk about a situation you’ve only ever talked about with your therapist.

“Yeah, you probably don’t remember because it was super crazy and I don’t even think you saw me honestly but you saved me from an alien a few years ago and wow that’s crazy to say out loud-” You stopped your rambling and resisted the urge to bite your thumb, she was looking at you with an expression you couldn’t read. It gave you the chance to admire her up close. 

You’d seen her in person and on the news but she was different up close. Despite her intimidating persona she almost seemed…softer. You noticed the little freckles that dotted her face, the way her hair brushed her shoulders elegantly, the way she chewed the side of her lip lightly. Who knew the famous black widow had a nervous tick? You internally shook your head- you had to stop idolizing her and regard her as the person she was. 

You let understanding wash over you as you began to take in the tiredness behind her eyes, the way her shoulders never fully relaxed, the way her posture and movements were so perfectly practiced. It must be exhausting to always appear like the strongest woman in the room. Was she ever able to be vulnerable? Did she ever take a break?

Shaking your head, you let out a small chuckle “ -actually it doesn’t really matter what happened. I just wanted to say Thank you, for what you did all those years ago. You saved so many lives on that day but you saved me for months afterwards.” This is the longest amount of time you’ve held eye contact with anyone and you resist the urge to look away when you feel tears start to form. “ I hope you know how incredible you are”

She sucks in a sharp breath and looks away from you, her gaze going to the ever-dwindling party inside. You worry for a second that you’ve said something you shouldn’t have, or unintentionally reminded her of a painful memory but after a while her gaze turns back to you. 

She’s looking at you with that same look from earlier, her eyes shining with recognition and what you can now pinpoint as admiration. Natasha Romanoff admires you. 

“Y/n-” Your phone rings and you scramble to answer it, giving Nat an apologetic look that she dismisses with an understanding shake of her head. Eager to get back to whatever Nat was about to tell you your finger quickly swipes over the answer call button.

“Hello?” 

“Y/n! Where are you? You’re missing this great story-” Your friend seems significantly drunker than when you left her and you wonder what she got herself into in the short while you were away. You should probably go back and join her but…

“I’m on the balcony, remember?” 

“Oh..” You can practically feel her pout. “ That’s so funny I could’ve sworn I saw Natasha Romanoff go out there- Hey! Is she with you? Oh my god, she totally is! Are you hanging out? Did you tell her about your big fat crush-” You swiftly end the call.

You seriously hope Natasha didn’t hear that and that she can’t see the blush currently taking over your whole face but the sight of her smirking at you is definitely not a good sign. 

You’re absolutely mortified.

“You didn’t hear anything” You accusingly point at her and she raises her hands in a mock surrender. It’s the first time you’ve seen her surrender to anyone and you’re afraid of what it does to your insides. 

Whatever she was going to say to you seems to have gone, the moment sufficiently ended you figure it’s probably best if you head back to your friend and stop her from drinking more free alcohol and potentially spilling your embarrassing work stories. 

Nat seems to sense your plan to leave as she straightens up and you preen at the fact that she’d been comfortable enough to relax a bit in your presence. 

Smile still prominent, you rub your arm from the cold as you prepare to say goodbye to someone you’re not sure you’ll ever get the chance to talk like this with again.

“Well- It was nice getting to talk with you but I should probably get going” Nat looks like she wants to say something, her jaw ticks, and her eyes take in your face but when her eyes catch your injured shoulder she stops herself. “ Also thank you for that drink it was unfairly good and I’ll probably never have another like it” 

That gets her to laugh and you find yourself chuckling with her. A car honks in the distance and the party's still going on like nothing has happened but for you, everything has changed. This moment will be ingrained in your memory forever.

You make a move to leave but the sound of your name makes you turn back to her, a questioning look on your face. 

“You know you can always call me” The statement catches you off guard. You know the Avengers hotline is always open but they were usually busy dealing with prank calls and petty crimes. You weren’t sure they’d believe you if you called and told them Natasha Romanoff said you could call her and ask her to make you another drink.

The humor of the situation has you returning the gesture with your own proposition “Same to you. If you need anyone to talk to or just someone to give you compliments” She chuckles and you’re sure she gets that you’re joking but she still tilts her head in a tease

“I don’t have your number”

You let yourself indulge in the joke, seeing no harm in making your friend wait a minute longer “You have my name, I’m sure you won’t have trouble finding it”

A sort of mirth sparkled in her eyes as she spoke her next sentence “Well I’m no FBI agent” It feels like an inside joke and you're trying to pinpoint where you remember it from but after a few seconds you shake it off and blame it on the alcohol. 

You laugh and give her a wave as you make your way to the door back inside. Just as your fingers grip the handle Natasha’s voice calls out to you one more time 

“Take care of yourself, Y/n.”

You smile at her as you open the door “You too, Nat.” 

It’s odd how a few minutes of interaction will make the taste of her name feel so familiar

~~

Later when you're home warm in your pj’s and settling into bed, your phone pings with a notification and you open it to see a text from Nat-

       Nat🔪:

Nat🔪: 

I'm guessing from your lack of texts 

that you’re having a good night?

You smile as you type out your response, excited to tell her all of the details in the morning

Y/n🍦:

The Best❤

Pt.24

A/n: Nat seems to have hesitated- what do you think she was going to tell Y/n? ~ Starry

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