#tony: fear not. I have a permit

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #103

We have seen fics where Tony attends Peter's "Parents' Evening," sometimes surprising Peter, always embarrassing him a little and protecting him a lot

However, consider: students are not always required to join their parents at the first such event of the year, "Back to School Night"

This event is more for parents and guardians to get to the know the school, meet the teachers, and learn the kinds of things their kids will be expected to do in the upcoming year. Many kids send their parents to school with just a bell schedule and opt to stay home

Fic where May can't attend Peter's "Back to School Night." Peter's like, "Eh, whatever. It's not required so who cares."

But, May still kind of wants to know what's what at the school? And she doesn't want Peter's brand new teachers to get the wrong impression, like he doesn't have any adults willing to show up and represent him in the school community. So, she reaches out to a certain billionaire.

Completely unbeknownst to Peter, Tony Stark attends his "Back to School Night."

(He has Peter's bell schedule from FRIDAY. He has paperwork from May saying yes he can be there - very much in the style of Ron Swanson "I have a permit")

Teachers are flabbergasted. Other students' parents are in shock.

But, for the most part, Tony spends the night bemused. He saunters along like any other parent adult, searches around for Peter's various classes, sits in tiny, smelly desks. He collects lots of info for May

Peter learns about none of this until the next day. It turns out, not every student decided to stay home - at least a few got dragged to the school along with their parents.

And they took videos.

Bonus:

Additional Possibilities for Tony's Evening:

He meets Ned's parent(s) because they have so many classes together

Ned's parent(s) may or may not privately share with Tony how great they think he's been for Peter, how they can see the life back in his eyes

He asks the teachers probing questions about the difficulty of the material, accommodations for students, mental health support etc. that have some of the other parents silently cheering

He brags about Peter. A lot.

He may or may not graffiti on Howard Stark's mural face

Someone asks, since Peter's internship is apparently real, if their kid can have an internship too, and Tony responds, "<3 ^_^ no"

An encounter with Flash's father may or may not qualify according to Pepper as a Press Incident That Could Have Been Avoided

Is MJ one of the students accidentally present during this critical moment in Midtown's history? Who can say.

[abbyromanoff]

Hello! Please can you make a story with Maria having a secret girlfriend who is in a long infiltration job ? Have a good day or night!

A Secret

Pairings: Maria Hill x reader (Natasha x reader)

Word Count: 1,870

Warnings: angst, small mentions of smut, fluff, jealousy, hurt and comfort, secret relationships

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“You ready?” You looked over at your girlfriend in her full glory, a red dress covering her body. You held her hand tightly with your own, bringing it to your mouth to give the back of her palm a small peck.

“Always, love.” She rested her arm on your back, almost nearing the curve of your ass. You smiled gently, a slight warmth filling your heart when being with the woman. You didn’t get to do this often, this was the first ever party you were attending with her. The two of you had a busy work schedule that made it difficult to be with one another, but you made it work. You both loved each other more than anything, you weren’t going to give up now.

The loud sounds of clinking glasses together and small conversations between coworkers who haven’t seen each other in weeks. It was overwhelming, to say the least, but your partner's hand interlaced with yours helped that fear quickly go away.

“It’s alright, I’m right here. I’m not leaving.” You smiled to yourself with a blush on your cheeks. She chuckled at your reaction and walked towards the bar, dragging you along with her.

“Hey, Nat! One margarita, please.” The redhead nodded and grabbed the glass she’d use, pouring the drink and handing it off to your girlfriend.

“Who’s the pretty lady here?” Nat smirked, eyeing you up and down. You could see Maria start to tense up, gripping your hand under the bar.

“This is Y/N, my plus one.” Everyone had to bring someone to the party, it was probably so Tony could have more people to brag to. You wished she wasn’t so afraid to tell everyone about you, you wanted to be shown off. You understood if she wasn’t ready, but it got so hard not being able to kiss her in front of anyone. It got so hard not to tell everyone about how perfect your girlfriend is, but you respected her wishes. No matter how difficult it was, you still loved her dearly.

Nat grabbed your free palm in her own, grasping your fingertips together and connecting her lips with the back of your hand. She grinned down at you, it was clear what her intentions were. She was trying to get you to go home with her tonight, and Maria hated the thought. She knew others would want you, who wouldn’t? But she hated that she couldn’t mark you as hers for good, then nobody would touch you.

“Y/N here is actually seeing someone, Nat,” Her voice laced with venom, “I think you should back off before they find out.” Nat turned her eyes to look at her, rolling her eyes before turning back to you.

“Well, I don’t think they’ll mind. After all, what idiot would leave such a beautiful girl all alone?” You licked your lips discreetly. You couldn’t deny her beauty, but you knew Maria hated this. You wanted to test her, see if she’d finally break.

“C’mon, let's go.” She started to lightly tug on your arm, expecting you to listen and follow her like a lost puppy. But you didn’t. She looked back at you, seeing your clear hesitant face that was trying its best to act cool.

“Uh, actually, I’m enjoying talking to Nat. I think I’ll stay here.” She was about to say something, only to be cut off by Nat.

“Good decision, baby. Why don’t you join me on the floor?” You nodded with a grin, noticing the way Maria looked at you with shock. It seemed like she was hurt, you felt horrible. But, it was the only way to show her what could happen if she didn’t listen to you and treat you how you deserved. Nat led you onto the dance floor with at least twenty other people. They were all drunk and grinding against each other.

“So, you and Maria?” Your eyes widened, turning to look at the woman.

“Oh please, it’s obvious with how she looks at you. I could tell there was something going on between you two a few months ago, I just never said anything.” She shrugged, pulling you closer to mimic the others. Her arms wrapped around your waist from behind, nearing close to your breasts. To anyone else, you looked like a couple with Nat’s head resting on your shoulder. You couldn’t even picture the expression on your girlfriend's face.

“Why didn’t you? I mean, I thought you were trying to sleep with me tonight.” You chuckled dryly, waiting for her response. She took a minute, sighing before finally speaking.

“When Maria first brought you here to ‘introduce a friend’ I kind of started to form a bit of a crush on you. I like you, and I don’t want it to be weird between us, so, I’ll back off. Besides, you seem really happy with her.” You let out a small ‘oh’, the new information leaving you speechless. You switched your position, turning to wrap your arms around her shoulders and slowly moving side to side.

“You don’t have to say anything, Y/N, I understand. I’ll get over it someday, but for now, I think you should go talk to your girlfriend before she attempts to rip my head off.”

“Attempts to?”

“I’m the black widow, she has nothing on me.” You both shared a final laugh before taking her advice and leaving to look for your partner. You looked all over, asking if anyone had seen her, and ended up next to a balcony door where you saw her leaning over the railing with her drink in hand.

“Maria?” She turned quickly at the sound of your voice, her saddened expression changing into a cold, stoic one.

“What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be dancing with your little whore?” You walked closer to the woman, looking down at the ground as you approached her.

“Well, I wanted to apologize. I shouldn’t have gone with Nat, I just wanted to get my point across to you.”

“And what point is that?” You were now facing her, your face mere inches apart. You wanted to kiss her so badly, to just connect your lips together and kiss as if no one was watching. But you wanted them to see, you wanted them to see that you were hers and she was yours. You were tired of being her little secret.

“I don’t want to hide anymore, Maria. I wanted to take it slow like you asked, but it’s been almost a year! I love you, I love you more than anything. But I can’t keep pretending you mean nothing to me, I can’t keep acting like you’re just my friend when all I want to do is kiss you with everyone watching. Nat means nothing to me, she’s my friend. I love you and only you, I want to be able to say that in public. I want to be able to hold you and hold your hands, I can’t keep hiding that.” Tears pooled at your eyelids as you tried to hold them back. You were about to wipe them away when you were interrupted by a hand placing itself on your face, using the pad of her thumb to erase the wetness.

“I’m so sorry, love, I never realized you wanted that. I always thought you wanted to keep it hidden so I never told anyone. It was so difficult, I wanted to show you off to every person I saw. And, baby, you don’t know how much I love you. You mean the world to me. I don’t care if it’s only been ten or so months, I’m so in love with you already. I can never see myself with someone else and seeing you with Nat, I don’t know it just hurt so bad. I worried you’d realize you deserve better and run off with her instead. I’m so, so sorry, sweetheart.” You wrapped your arms tightly around her, almost making her fall backwards at the impact. You didn’t let go, not even when you heard the door opening.

“Hey, Maria have you seen-“ The man quickly stopped himself, apologizing with an awkward smile before retorting back to the party. You didn’t say a word, only grasping the woman close to you without daring to move your head from her shoulder. You could smell her perfume lacing her body, smiling when catching a whiff of the shampoo she stated she never took from you.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” She rocked you back and forth, feeling the cool breeze hitting her face.

“C’mon, baby, let’s go home.”

The next day you woke up to a note on your bedside table stating she had to leave early for work and would be back later that night. You had given yourself time to relax before heading to work, making a small breakfast, and sitting on the couch to read a few pages of the book you were close to finishing.

“Y/N! There you are, I’ve been waiting all morning for you to show up.” Your coworker said, rushing over to hug you tightly. She leaned back, a smile marking her face that soon turned into a grin when noticing the mark on your neck.

“Fun night with the secret mistress of yours?” You chuckled lightly and set the piles of papers onto the desk that was yours. There was a flower with a note.

“What’s this?”

“I don’t know, it was delivered this morning. Maybe it was your mystery woman?” She rose her eyebrows up and down, smirking when seeing your flustered features.

“Quiet down, you know your teasing won’t get me to tell you who she is.” She groaned loudly and threw her head back, flipping you off before heading to her own cubical.

Hours had gone by, your phone being completely neglected as you focused on completing the work in front of you. You didn’t see the messages Maria had sent you, telling you she was planning on stopping by for your lunch break. So when you looked at the door of your office and saw your girlfriend, you were shocked.

“Babe, what are you doing here?” You whisper-shouted, grabbing the small box of food she handed you.

“What? Can I not come to see my beautiful partner for lunch?” She kissed the top of your head, ignoring the quiet whispers and stares from others.

“Well, it’s just a really public place, I didn’t think you wanted to visit.”

“Didn’t I tell you I didn’t want to hide us anymore? So, I’m keeping my promise. Now, let’s dig in, shall we?” You grinned happily, feeling her lips press against your own in a soft kiss. You complied, letting your lips melt into her own for a quick moment. You could see the smirk on your friends' face, staring at you both with a hopeful glance. You wished you could wipe that smirk off her face. But at the same time, you couldn’t be happier knowing that look was caused by you and Maria. You couldn’t be happier that she finally kept her promise, and that she finally showed the world the love she held for you.

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Multitudes Chapter Two - ... And Her Retribution.

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Please read the tags, and proceed with caution. Disclaimer - this work is a reflection of our own experiences with negative self-image, self-harm, eating disorders, and suicidal ideation. It is not a portrayal of any other individual's experiences and should not be taken as such. Content Warning:  ED thoughts, self-injury, poor self-care, seduction as avoidance (attempted).

Check it out below, or on AO3 here! This snazzy divider comes from @firefly-graphics and I love it <3

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I was barely cognisant of my surroundings as my limp body was carried across the terrain, Clint’s attempts at cradling my injured frame somewhat impeded by the directness of his route – the ground underfoot became uneven within the forest, and I whimpered at every minuscule jolt, shockwaves coursing through my bones to settle in my steadily pulsating wrist.

“You’re gonna be ok, Nat. You’re… You’re just tired. A bit of a tumble, but you’ll be ok. We’ll get you back, have Tony – or probably Bruce, actually – take a look at you, and-”

I shook my head vehemently, finally beginning to struggle in his grasp, my exhausted body driven by fear. He had to pause then, wrangling with my flailing limbs, but despite his best efforts I managed to break free, stumbling to my feet and away from his outstretched hands. “Nat, we really need to get you back. You had a fall- Your wrist might be broken- Your heart rate was-”

I shook my head once more, narrowing my eyes toward him. Stop. Go away, I signed angrily, as best as the steadily increasing pain in my arm permitted, while he continued to stumble over his words as I stumbled over the roots beneath my feet. He hesitated, mouth closing with an audible click, his hands retracting.

I’m worried about you, he offered, a sad smile on his face. Not just the usual amount. I’m really worried about you.

There’s nothing to worry about, I countered stubbornly, flinching at the movement. He simply raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between the rapid swelling of my wrist, the still-beeping fitness tracker, and the free space in my leather suit.

Please, Nat, he replied, using his sign name for me – a combination of ‘spider’ and ‘love’ – and I knew then that I had lost, lowering myself to the dirt with a tired sob.

They’ll never take you back now.

My quivering body was once more in Clint’s arms as I entered the medical lab, the fingers of my pain-free hand wrapped tightly in his collar, the other cradled uselessly against my chest.

He propped me on the bed, and I reached up as I released him, delicately removing one hearing aid. He knew the drill – no words. An invasive motion for anyone but the two of us, but Clint had told me time and again that he loved it when I did it. He knew I understood just how exhausting it was sometimes to have to live in a hearing, verbal world, and he welcomed the reprieve as much as I did.

He removed the other on his own, eyes darting once more to my injured wrist with a sympathetic grimace. I simply curled onto my side, beaten and broken, awaiting my judgement – my damnation.

I must have dozed off, because my eyes snapped open to the silent, passionate exchange between the doctor and the archer.

-sick, Clint. She needs help. I can patch her up, but that won’t mend what’s broken, Bruce argued, a frown wrinkling his forehead.

Broken.

She’s not broken, Clint argued, and my heart twinged with gratitude. Bruce simply scowled, waving away the protest. You know my ASL isn’t perfect, and you know what I mean. She needs more than just physical care, and I can’t do that.

Clint met his gaze steadily, furiously, before jerking his thumbs away from his body in a solitary argument, leaving no room for disagreement. Try.

I waved my good hand to get their attention, both pairs of eyes turning on me, and I had to resist the urge to run. I don’t need help. I just need to get this wrist seen to.

Both aquamarine and mahogany turned sympathetic, each owner moving closer in their turn.

Nat-

‘Spider’ only; there was no love here.

-you’re dangerously underweight. I can tell you that without even putting you on a scale. I don’t doubt that your bloods are a mess, too. You passed out through overexertion – the injury is just a symptom. You’re pushing yourself too hard. The doctor lacked the fluidity Clint had when he signed, and I glanced at the archer, a teasing brow raising itself without my input, but he remained impassive.

I just got too hot, and I think I have a bug, or something. It’s fine. I’m fine, I argued after a moment, when my attempt to lighten the mood fell flat.

Another shared glance, and Clint sat by my feet, one hand finding my calf for a heartbeat. Nat, I don’t remember the last time I saw you eat a full meal. Neither does Bruce. And I bet if we asked the others-

I sat upright at that, shaking my head vehemently, and Bruce waved a hand in my direction. You see? That, right there, tells us everything we need to know. That fear – that’s an eating disorder.

Clint blinked at me dumbly for a moment, then reached out, the back of his fingers lightly grazing the soft fat of my jawline. “What are we supposed to do?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching mine. I simply stared in response – not once, ever, had Clint used words when I’d asked him not to.

Fucking traitor.

“She needs more than I can give her,” Bruce answered steadily, moving into my partner’s eyeline. “She needs examination and treatment by someone experienced in these things.”

Don’t you fucking dare.

“That can’t be you? You’re sure?” Clint clarified, his gaze still on mine. From the corner of my eye, I saw Bruce shrug helplessly.

“I guess I could do the initial assessment – see how bad things have gotten. But I won’t attempt care if I don’t think I can help. I won’t risk making her worse, Clint; you, of all people, should be able to understand that.”

He nodded once, still watching me closely.

What can I do to stop this? I pressed, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. What can I do to make you believe me? You’re my partner, Clint – you’re supposed to trust me. His own sign name – a pulled back bowstring, fingers pinched into the sign similar to ‘love’ – coupled with my emotional plea made him still.

I want to believe you. Of course I do. But we haven’t seen you eat in forever, and you’ve been running yourself into the ground.

I’ll eat, I countered quickly, seizing the opportunity, before wetting my dry lips with my tongue. “I’ll eat. You can even watch. I’ll prove it – there’s nothing to worry about.” The words felt like knives in my throat, in more ways than one, but it was worth it to see Clint and Bruce share a look, my partner nodding firmly.

“If she says she’s ok, she’s ok. I trust her.” I could see the uncertainty in the archer’s eyes, only his respect driving him onwards, and I’d never been so grateful.

Good work. They can’t stop you now – not when you’re so close. You’re nearly ready to go back, and they know it. They want to make you fat and soft so that the Red Room won’t want you, but we can’t let them.

I nodded internally, glowing on the inside. The Voice was right – they were acting concerned, but they just knew I was getting too good, too strong, too much to stay here for much longer, and all they wanted was to clip my wings and weigh me down.

Clint replaced his aids with a sigh, turning to look at me. “Bruce is going to fix your wrist up, and I’m going to make you dinner. And then I'm going to watch you eat it. You got that?” His voice was firm, leaving no room for negotiation, and I nodded quickly, elated.

The doctor was quiet as he scanned by wrist, pointing out the hairline fracture along the radius. “It’s a pretty common FOOSH injury – ‘falling onto an outstretched hand’,” he explained when I frowned. “It should heal easily, provided you don’t hurt it further. But I’m going to put it in a cast to prevent that from happening,” he added, and I rolled my eyes.

“It’s basically a sprain, Doc. I’ve fought off armies with worse. A cast won’t be necessary.”

“I’m not asking,” he replied tersely, a cold, hard edge to his voice that made me recoil.

Even Bruce can’t stand to be near you. Will he even be able to get a cast on that fat wrist? He’s probably mad that you’re making him waste the resources on the likes of you. Useless.

I winced and ducked my chin, suitably chagrined, and Bruce let out a sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Nat. I just… Want to make sure you’re okay. Barton might trust you, but…”

“But you don’t?” I countered, venom dripping from my voice. “You think my own partner doesn’t know me better than you?”

He sighed again, then raised his hands in defeat. “I’m putting the cast on. That’s it. I’m not going to try and force you to get help if you won’t accept it.” He turned away to gather the materials he needed, his voice dropping to almost indecipherable levels. “But Clint isn’t the only one who cares about you, Nat.”

I rolled my jaw, blood boiling, sitting in sullen silence until he stood before me once more, medical tray on the bed beside me.

“I’m going to need you to take your suit off,” he muttered, horrified revelation creeping into his words.

Bruce doesn’t want to see you with your clothes off? That’s a new low.

No, I noted thoughtfully, watching the red flush climb his neck and his refusal to meet my gaze. I’ve seduced enough men in my life to know what this is. This is innocence and inexperience. This… This is shyness.

And as easy an excuse as I could wish for.

“How about you get me a gown?” I offered, my voice as light and teasing as I could make it, fingers finding the zipper on my chest. Despite there being absolutely no chance I will be willingly stripping down in front of the doctor – no, I only want to make him blush.

Bruce glanced back at me uncertainly, throat bobbing as he nodded, an unmistakable green tinge to his flesh as he darted away, returning with a gown that would smother any hint of feminine curves and quell his appetite.

A shame. You could use a workout, and at least with him, you’re likely to be punished at the same time.

“You know, I’m not scared of you, Bruce. The green guy, either.” The words escaped me before I could register the thought, but I found myself steady and impassable as the zipper inched towards the curve of my chest.

The doctor’s jaw set, and he turned his head, averting his gaze through respect and fear. “I am.”

I slid to my feet noiselessly, trailing a hand across the tense shoulders hidden by a thick labcoat. “Maybe I could show you that there’s much more to life than fear.”

I heard him swallow dryly, the flesh under my fingertips swelling and expanding as his heart rate increased. “Natasha, stop…”

“I’m not afraid of either of you, Bruce. And if you’re worried about hurting me, don’t be. I can take-”

My words died in my throat as he turned, grasping my uninjured wrist firmly as it began to smooth across his chest. “Natasha. Stop.” There was no green glow to his face now, only a hard determination, and I stepped back with a playful grin, trying to keep the rejection from my face.

“It would be fun. That’s all I’m saying,” I offered with a shrug, fingers finding my own zipper once more – hesitating when he didn’t turn away. “… Are you going to watch?”

He smiled weakly, the motion not reaching his eyes. “It took me a second to figure it out. But then I thought to myself, ‘no, Natasha wouldn’t be that cruel’. But perhaps you could be that selfish.” I gazed wordlessly at him, jaw slack, before my shock turned to anger.

“Wanting to help you out – to give you satisfaction I’m sure you haven’t felt in a very long time, if ever – is cruel?” I laughed tersely, shaking my head. “Forgive me for wanting to be your friend, Bruce.”

His emotionless smile didn’t waver – instead, he simply lent against the stool. “Either way, I’ve got a handle on it now. No helping needed.”

“I’m not letting you watch me undress if I don’t get anything out of it,” I snapped, fighting the panic rising in my chest. Without the cover of lust and a lack of control, his clinical eyes could not see me. I didn’t need The Voice to tell me that. He’d be disgusted and horrified, dressing it up as concern, pumping sugar water into my veins until I was too bloated to move – too fat to run away.

“Why?” he pressed, head tipped with mock curiosity. “You seemed to have no qualms until you thought I was uncomfortable, or that I was having to fight with the Hulk - and even after that. I’m telling you, unequivocally, that I’m fine. So why not?”

My mouth worked silently, a rolodex of excuses flicking through my mind. “Haven’t enough men looked at my body without my consent?” I offered eventually, allowing a hint of self-pity to creep into my voice. He tried to remain impassive, but it took less than a second for him to break, turning away with a muttered apology and a hanging head. I feel bad, sure, I noted as I hurriedly slid my arms into the gown, careful to cover the litany of scars coating my biceps, but it’s not like it’s a lie.

Another flash -  being paraded, chained, before row after row of observers, pinching, pulling, poking and pushing – and my breath hiccupped in my chest, before I cleared my throat, instantly dragging back my careful reserve.

Weak. You’ll need to be punished for that later. Widows have no room for emotions.

Bruce half turned, driven by fear but restrained by respect. “It’s okay; you can look now.”

His eyes immediately scanned the available flesh of my forearms, tracing the line of my clavicle peering from under the loose neck of my gown, and I fought the urge to shudder, skin crawling under his gaze. “Okay. We’ll get this cast on, and then you can have dinner.”

Ugh, dinner. I’d forgotten about that. 

It took a matter of minutes for the cast to be fit, but the fifteen minutes of silence while we waited for it to harden felt endless. I knew I should apologise – after all, hadn’t Bruce been exactly right? What I did was cruel and selfish – but I couldn’t bring myself to permit the words, or the inevitable questions that would follow.

By the time Clint returned, half-coated in various bits of food and looking for all the world like he’d been dragged through a garbage disposal, the tension was palpable, and I couldn’t wait to escape.

“Grub’s up?” he offered tentatively, gaze flicking between the doctor and I. I simply nodded in response, glancing at Bruce as I slid to my feet.

“I’ll have to change first,” I noted dryly, gesturing down at my half-dressed form, the gown still covering my upper body, while my legs were encased in their trademark leather. Bruce only nodded in response, muttering something about being mindful of my cast, but letting me go without complaint.

I dropped onto the bed with a heavy sigh, diligently keeping my cast away from the bedspread. Clint had tried to intercept me, asking if I’d need any assistance with the leather with only one hand, but I had merely shook my head, offering an insincere, grateful smile as I closed the door in his face.

I just needed space.

The burn in my flesh began before I even had chance to reflect, starting as something akin to an itch, deep under my skin and in need of being carved out.

Glancing at the door to ensure I’d slid the bolt across – archaic, but effective – I dragged myself upright, shuffling to the en-suite with a resigned slope to my shoulder.

I hated this.

I hated fucking up, and I hated the punishment that came with it.

And it was that hatred that would drive me to do better, until a time came when I was perfect, and there were no more whispered hushes of blade on flesh and muffled whimpers of knuckles stuffed into teeth.

My things were only simply hidden – tucked into a tampon box they never knew I didn’t need – and I pulled out the kit in silence, tenderly caressing every facet as I lay the items before me. There was, I had to admit, a beauty in it – in seeing my indiscretions tallied in flesh, each the same as the last, a uniform ladder of sin.

It was between these rungs that I now pressed a fresh scalpel, unmarred by rust or blood. If there was one significant benefit of life at the Avenger’s Compound, it was certainly the never-ending – and, crucially, unmonitored – flow of medical supplies.

One – for the food I consumed at lunch.

Two – for the half-finished run.

Three – for being caught failing.

Four – for inciting suspicion.

Five – for almost losing everything.

Six - for Clint.

Seven – for Bruce.

Eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen – for Bruce, for Bruce, for Bruce, for Bruce, for Bruce, for Bruce.

I did something I had never done.

One cut for each sin; that was the rule. Each as careful and precise as the next.

But this? This was not punishment, considered and reasonable.

This was vengeance against my cursed flesh and my cursed existence. There was no order, no scrutiny of depth and placement; there was only violence and vehemence.

Where is this rage coming from? I pondered, only a faint, distant alarm registering as I fought to stem the blood. I wasn’t naive enough to allow my heart rate to spike sharply – I’d made that mistake once, not longer after I moved into the compound, and now had Friday’s klaxon echoing in my mind as a stark warning against a repeat performance. It was for the same reason that my exercise within the compound building had to be intensified slowly – it was only careful negotiation on my part that had allowed me to have any degree of privacy, after all. The rooms were initially fitted to alert to a rise in heartrate of any speed, but I’d argued against that effectively enough, saying that we all had a nightmare or wanted to exercise from time to time, and shouldn’t have our personal lives broadcasted to the entire team. But the spike, they’d argued, could be deadly, and should be kept. I’d lost that one, but it was workable.

Because you’re useless, and selfish. Even your punishment is selfish, you fucking disappointment.

I nodded my agreement as I wrapped a scrap of bandage tightly around my arm, wincing as the fibres pressed into the holes gouged into my flesh. I’d gone too deep, I knew that – but there was no way I’d be hunting out Bruce for stitches. I’d healed from worse, and I’d heal again.

Bandaging wasn’t something I usually bothered with – infection only prolonged the pain, after all - but without my impermeable leather to hide the blood, I didn’t have another option. Instead, I permitted the coarse covering, scraping against my open flesh each time I moved to clean up the bathroom floor.

[edenjohansson]

Chapter 10

fifty shades of red

Bella's pov :

With the Avengers around my table it feels like we have known for years. We all talked for hours even if they were tired of the long road of the past few days. I stood up and walked them into the different rooms of my house. They will share rooms. Tony's going to sleep with Pepper obviously, Thor with Sam, Clint with Bruce, Steve and Bucky. Wanda with Vision and finally Nat with me.

"Why so many rooms if vampires don't sleep?"

"It was a tradition. When I had parties here, we hunting humans at this time, and the rooms was for them so they can sleep to produce more blood for us" I looked at their scared face and add "Yeah I know it's creepy but hunting humans was very regulated so we couldn't permit to hunt every day"

"So we're going to sleep inside beds where people were killed?" Tony asks, suspicious.

"No no no. Don't worry about that. We killed them when they're awake. We like to see the fear in their eyes when we're about to drink their blood" I respond with a huge smile on my face.

I laughed as I saw their faces decay.

"If you could see your faces! It's incredible!" I said to them, I walked away from the rooms and added "Sleep well tonight".

I took the stairs and walked inside my room. The night was just starting and the view from my bay windows was really magic. I had to take a shower to evacuate all the blood from the attack of 2 days ago. I started to undress myself and walked under my shower. The cold water was perfect. My skin was already cold but the water was so de-stressing for me. My white hair was unbraid on my back. Red water started to flow on the floor.

I heard Natasha walk inside my bedroom quietly.

"I heard you, you know. No need to be quiet" I said.

I turned and saw her staring at me under the water. Her expression was unreadable.

"Are you okay?" I asked her as I stopped the shower.

"Why do you always ask me if I'm okay?" Nat asks me without moving.

I heard as she tried to stop the beating of her heart. She tries to cover her emotions.

"Because I came up in your life really quickly and I imposed you a lot lately. Life with a vampire is never easy mainly for a human and I'm clearly not the most easy one"

I really want to be sincere with her because I will always offer her an escape if she wants to leave. For me it's fifty-fifty, if she leaves me right now I would be sad that's for sure but I still will have a crown on my head and a country to rule so I can't let my emotions win.

"Why do you never show your emotions? I see you laugh and smile but I see that for all other emotions you never show them to the world" She asked me this question sincerely but I wasn't prepared for that.

I walked out of the shower and got my towel to wrap inside. I lean against the edge of the sink behind me. I sighed and looked at her.

"Because for most emotions, vampires lose them years after years. For us, humanity has become something unrealistic. We lost our emotions because we lived so many different lifes. I can still feel some of them like anger or rage sometimes but also happiness when I'm around people I love. The word 'love' is itself complicated. How am I supposed to love someone when I know that in a few years they will die?" As I said this last word I looked down and remembered my last relationship.

Natasha walked towards me and placed her hands on my arms. I looked at her again. She's smiling at me. How is it possible that I deserved her?

"I will let you discover your emotions again, don't worry. I hope you're not gonna feel pain or sadness with me but I can try for the others"

I smiled and heard her heartbeat going faster. I looked at her.

"My smile's really affecting you" I said as I placed my hand on her waist.

She leaned closer to me, our lips brushing against each other. I bit my bottom lip and ran my fingers under her shirt directly to her hot skin.

She kissed me slowly at first but started to get more passionate. I got her body closer to mine and heard her breath getting louder. I got my lips away from hers and said before she kissed me again.

"You should get some sleep darling. Not that I don't want this but you didn't sleep much in the past few days and having sex is going to hit you hard"

She sighed and nodds. I placed my hands behind her tight and lifted her up.

"I can walk you know" She said, giggling.

"I know love, I know but I prefer you in my arms"

I walked inside my room and let her on the edge of my bed.

"I can give you clean clothes if you want"

She nodded and I walked to my dressing room. I take a simple short and a red t-shirt. I moved back to my bed and gave the clothes to Natasha. She stood up and changed herself. I returned to my bathroom to brush my hair and my teeth. My body was already dry. I put on a simple short and a black top and got ready for bed.

Natasha was already under the sheets as I layed down next to her. She wrapped her arms around me and placed her head on my chest.

"You're going to sleep all night with me?"

"No. But I'll wait until you fall asleep and I'll be there when you wake up"

"How do you know when I'm going to wake up?"

"The heartbeat get faster darling"

I kissed her forehead and wrapped my arms around her body. Getting myself closer to her.

She smiled and closed her eyes. Happy.

[msclaritea]

Takeaways From CinemaCon 2024: Not Enough Movies, Too Much Testosterone

Story by Sharon Waxman

 • 1d • 5 min read

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA - APRIL 11: Dwayne Johnson speaks onstage at the Walt Disney Studios Presentation during CinemaCon 2024 at The Colosseum at Caesars Palace on April 11, 2024 in Las Vegas, Nevada.© TheWrap

There's some good work coming up: Universal's "Wicked" at Christmas will be incredible. Disney's "Kingdom of Planet of the Apes," coming next month, looks otherworldly. Bong Joon-ho's "Mickey 17," in which Robert Pattinson keeps dying and getting cloned, from Warners, looks insane in the best possible way. 

But the strike took its toll. The studios don't have the full complement of movies and there's no way around it: 2024 is going to be painful at the box office. The hope in the room (and there was some) is really about 2025 and 2026. 

A week in Las Vegas at the annual CinemaCon gathering of movie exhibitors with midday cocktail parties at Nobu (thanks Lionsgate) didn't mask the fact that the coming eight months of movies will be scraped together after a brutal year.

"It will be painful for moviegoers who want something other than angry shoot-em-ups, ear-shattering sound tracks and constant horror. The slates of Warner Bros., Paramount and Lionsgate particularly screamed of unrelenting testosterone and a stream of fear, anger and retribution." 

Chris Aronson, Paramount Domestic Distribution chief, at CinemaCon (Photo by Jerod Harris/Getty Images for CinemaCon)© Provided by TheWrap

"I've said it before: Is there no joy, no tenderness, no intimacy permitted as part of the moviegoing experience? Do we audiences ever get to dream? To feel awe and empathy in between the white-knuckle moments? Are Hollywood executives who greenlight the movies unfamiliar with ... y'know, kindness? Think about it please."

(Me: YES!)

Here are my CinemaCon takeaways. 

1. Disney might have had the fewest movies, but it has the biggest winners, and had the best presentation. Several years ago, Disney -- at the top of its game and in the height of arrogance -- showed up to CinemaCon and presented a giant screen with a calendar of its upcoming releases. And that was it. This year, the studio tried a lot harder, presenting delightful chunks of footage from their slate -- including a stunning glimpse of "Apes" -- and onstage patter, with everyone from Marvel's Kevin Feige to the dapper distribution chief Tony Chambers dropping the F-bomb. It was liberating, honestly. Disney's strength lies in its array of brands that cater to audiences and taste across the board, and in a year like this one it showed: movies for kids with "Inside Out 2" and "Moana 2," the latter of which was presented by Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson; a sensory, four-quadrant experience like "Apes"; and a fully hilarious foray into R-rated superhero fare with "Deadpool & Wolverine." Actually, it was refreshing to not be bombarded with classic Marvel superhero fare. The studio was smart to let the movies do the talking, and the exhibitors responded with cheers of appreciation. 

2. New Line lives? The Warner Bros. slate presented by Mike DeLuca and Pam Abdy (maybe not professional moderators, but at least real humans) felt like nothing so much as New Line Cinema circa the 1990s, where DeLuca spent a decade of his career. The movies were heavy on genre -- violent action, horror and crime. So sure, "Furiosa" by George Miller with Anya Taylor-Joy, is a feast for all the senses. But by the time you got through "The Watchers" (horror), "Traps" (thriller), "Beetlejuice Beetlejuice" (fantasy-horror) and Todd Phillips' follow-up to "Joker" -- "Folie a Deux" (I don't know what to call this thing, but it's mad creepy) -- the audience was begging for a reason to laugh or cry — anything but cower in fear. The movie on the Warner slate that got the strongest response from the CinemaCon audience was not made by Warner. It was the Sundance documentary "Super/Man," acquired by the studio. The trailer they showed about the courage of Christopher Reeve, the love of his wife and his devotion to his children, made everybody cry. Yeah, Hollywood, that's a thing. 

3. "Where are the women?" That's what I scrawled in my notebook after the third consecutive studio presentation and the umpteenth cast with a half-dozen men and one single woman. (Actually, it was after Paramount's animated "Transformers One" and the studio's decades-later sequel of "Gladiator 2.") Not only weren't there movies to appeal specifically to a female audience, even the so-called "broad" appeal movies have overwhelmingly male casts and a token woman. "Gladiator II" has Paul Mescal, Pedro Pascal, Denzel Washington ... and Connie Nielsen. "Transformers One" has Chris Hemsworth, Brian Tyree Henry and a bunch more guys ... and Scarlett Johansson🙄. This absurd imbalance was supposed to have been addressed after the awakening of #MeToo, no? Women are half the population, and we like movies, too. But you'd never know it from these slates. Lionsgate was especially egregious in trotting out a full slate of movies that were a litany of violent combat, breaking bones, machetes and knives. Guy Ritchie and Eli Roth were in the mix, of course. Keanu Reaves was in four of the movies. One guy got stabbed in the eye. "Ballerina" stars a woman (Ana de Armas) but it's no less violent for that. I don't know what they're eating over there, but it feels like a diet of nails and rawhide.

Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo, the stars of "Wicked," at CinemaCon in Las Vegas (Credit: David Becker/WireImage)© Provided by TheWrap

4. Universal is riding high after its Best Picture win with "Oppenheimer" and a box office performance that defied expectations in 2023.

(Oppenheimer, THE FLOP, had to stay in theaters for FIVE MONTHS, to make its bank back! Dear God!)

 And while the studio, blessedly, had a variety of films on its slate that suggested something other than just horror and violence (although they're going hard on the Blumhouse canon with sequels to "Five Nights at Freddy's" and "M3ghan"), that slate is undeniably thin. It's going to be a long wait until December, when the studio can unveil what appears to be a spectacular experience in "Wicked," starring Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande in the first of two films. Director Jon M. Chu said the production planted 8 million tulip bulbs to create the practical effect of fields of blooms in the movie. Universal cleverly gave every attendee at their presentation a tulip that lit up in the dark and created a magical, glowing effect in the auditorium.

5. Nepo-baby alert. I would have thought that Warner Bros. would be embarrassed to bring not one but TWO M. Night Shyamalan progeny out on stage to tease their new movies. There was 22-year-old Ishana with a twist on her dad's horror in the woods genre; and 27-year-old Saleka who sang live, which was probably not a great decision for "Trap," written and directed by M. Night. But then again, the studio is merely being paid a distribution fee for movies Shyamalan has financed himself.

Good luck to the box office, and see you next year, CinemaCon!

[johnconstantinejld]

Gotham Tales-Freeze

I will permit you to take my attention away from my research for a time. It is for a good cause, unlike that of Doctor Crane, but like that of Doctor Isley.

Men talk of curses, and myths talk of searching for immortality. Maui sought out immortality, and was snapped in half by the legs of a goddess, Gilgamesh sought it out but his fruit of immortality was swallowed by a snake [note to self: The similarity of fruit of immortality to apple of Eden must not go without mention]. No doubt there are stories of men who gained immortality, only to find they are trapped in statue-like stasis for life, or as infants forever.

Did they count on me when thinking that? I think not. True, true, I stole company supplies and diverted funds illegally to help my wife. Of those crimes, I am guilty. I offered some garbled response to the accusations of my superior which would not have sense, but he responded by striking me and throwing the chemicals at me. He escaped because of his connections. We did not even have a union. Bruce Wayne makes an effort to know the name of everyone at Wayne Industries, from board members to the night watchman and janitors. He gives holidays and would allow a union. After all, he'd make sure there would be no corruption in the union. My thanks for Mr Wayne’s donations to my research.

Lex Luthor would know your name, but he didn't politely ask you what it is like Bruce Wayne. He doesn't know the name of the little people, though, wouldn't pay a holiday and his unions are corrupt.

Tony Stark is an arms trader who is wealthier than some European countries. He would fire workers attempting to unionise and doesn't know their name. Forgive me for digressing-when you are in stasis, you can talk a lot. I do not make any claims of holding off the Grim Reaper. Like all men, I whimper in fear at it. One day, I will switch off.

Nora, Nora. Can you hear me, Nora? What will be in the end? Do you want to be rescued, Nora? I will help you, Nora, even if you will no longer see a man. I am barely a human figure now as my body loses appendages. I can only suffice to greet you, maybe exchange what has happened, before I turn my attention to myself. After all, I can wait. Allow me to look out my window. Who is coming by? Ah, Doctor Isley. We pass professional greetings, as two doctors ought to. Both of us will be immortal. What world will we live to see? Her perfect forest, or waters and cold? I will leave for colder environs in due course, perhaps artificially increase their size. As an American might say, cut me a check! I could be of great use out there, Batman, doing some minor but still important work in increasing the size of ice caps. But no, humanity still won’t leave me alone. I get put in cold storage [pardon the pun], and then someone wants to shift through my body, cut me open, investigate. Your curiosity will kill you. If you truly cared for me, you’d leave me alone. Only you and your family, Batman, only you and your family truly understand that.

What is it they say when you visit a dentist? Remember, there might be a slight stinging sensation? Exactly what is given to those who disturb me. They turned up the temperature, my controlled temperature and stood back as I nearly died. My fortune for the families of victims of my previous actions. One day, many years from now, Dr Isley and I will be still standing. She will have her heat and her pleasant breeze, but I have arctic moss and lichen. Does she consider them as beautiful as her beloved plants?

We shall survive. She will have the warmth, I shall take the vast pine forests of Siberia and then further north. Or perhaps I will walk south, through Patagonia and the southern islands there. I am trained in multiple languages, I can get by.

I have all the time in the world.

I have given you enough time. Leave us. Unless you wish to join her.

[mandalhoerian]

For vera! 🌌💓🔫

WAHHH destiny hello!!! thank you for sending me an ask!!! 💞💞

for 𝐎𝐂 𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 !

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

the way you'd be embarrassed if you saw the first drafts of this bcs i didnt know shit about the lore...

i have a lot in regards to this specific question, but i'd say a 100% that she was meant to be the investigative type that willingly got involved with bioterrorism stuff since i wanted to explore something outside of agents and field-experienced individuals like leon, chris and jill. you can say ethan's story had a hand in this. i wanted to do something different. not beating the "not like the other girls" allegations here i know SDJSJD i also wanted her to be the upbeat type, not rebecca-innocent, but more in a troublemaking raccoon way. legit my vague starting points

her first version was an investigative journalist, but i saw one oc over here on tumblr and one on wattpad that had the same occupation so i didn't want to make anyone uncomfortable and plotted a bit more to change that. and then i'd say why not make the tony stark/shuri of resident evil franchise? and then it was true LMAO

im making this too long SORRY, moving on !

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

apart from fear? i'd say interest and excitement of making a discovery, that's why private investigating stuff gets her going, she loves the thrill. also willingly doing illegal stuff, ok miss "this sign cant stop me because i cant read" and dr. "not to worry i have a permit - (i can do whatever the fuck i want)"

🔫 PISTOL - do they trust people easily? how easily will they turn their back to someone? have they been backstabbed before? will they betray someone if given an ultimatum?

vera clicks with people almost instantaneously, she has no problems socializing. trust on the other hand, is another thing. she'll look friendly (and she is, genuinely) but she knows to be cautious with people.

the worst backstabbings for vera was back at the raccoon city orphanage when her friends got "adopted" and dropped her immediately after, and this kept happening over and over again. we know what really happened, she learns as well, but it gave her trust issues regardless, and was the primary reason why she didn't let herself have a dad-daughter relationship with marvin despite loving him as such. she doesn't let people get too close to her.

betraying someone she trusts on the other hand? not likely. it would be a mistake to try to trap her or push her into a corner, she gets around and has a lethal skillset revolving the gathering of information, vera will beat someone in their own game before she lets them have leverage over her.

[supremedinosaur]

ooo, you’re in trouble

WandaNat x Mutant!Reader

Warning: none, just fluff

Word count: 1000

Summary: Bruce and Tony test the limits of the reader’s powers. Set in a world where no one died.

---

“You have the ability to absorb any solid matter and cover your entire body with it,” Bruce said in awe. Bruce circled your stature, taking in your form covered gold-titanium, the same metal as Tony’s suits.

“Matter absorption and weapon creation,” you corrected as you created a sledgehammer out of the palm of your hand.

“Do you experience any negative repercussions because of them?” He asked as he was writing something down on his clipboard.

“My appetite increases to obscene levels after use and I have to consume the metals to create weapons,” you informed as you summoned the metallic coating to leave your body.

“So, you’re like Kevin 11 meets a Titan,” Tony said with his thinking posture.

“Peter?” You asked surprised he knew those references.

“Peter,” he confirmed. “Hey, I have an idea, want to test your powers against the suit and green giant?”

“Yes, I’m in,” you agreed almost too quickly.

“I don’t know about this, guys,” Bruce said apprehensively scratching his head.

“Don’t tell me Mr. Jolly Green Giant is afraid of losing,” you teased smirking.

“Okay, let’s go, but we have to be careful. I don’t want you getting hurt,” he said leading the way out with the ground slightly shaking from his giant steps.

“Yes, mom,” you and Tony groaned at the same time following him out.

“Oh, fuuucck,” you groaned as Hulk Bruce threw you at the wall and the force of your metallic body made a ‘you’ shaped indent in the wall. Your body wasn’t harmed in the slightest, but the wind was still kicked out of your lungs after the action. You dramatically fell forward, face planting into the ground and pounded your fist.

“What is going on in here?” You heard Steve say.

“My life flashing before my eyes on multiple occasions,” you replied flopping over on your back.

“Oh, come on he didn’t even throw you that hard, right Bruce?” Tony said nudging Bruce’s side.

“That seemed like it was too hard Tony. Y/N, are you okay?” Bruce asked concern clearly written on his face.

Rising to your feet you soon felt the adamantium flood your body. All it took was Hulk’s skin to come into contact with your skin long enough for you to absorb it. You felt immensely denser than the material you previously absorbed. You jumped to your toes and felt the ground shake at the action as your body became enveloped in green.

“Oh no,” Bruce said realizing what was going to happen next.

“What’s the matter, Brucie? Cat got your tongue?” You asked with an evil smile breaking across your face. You suddenly charged toward the men as Tony flew away and Bruce froze in fear. You planted one foot firmly on the ground and kicked your dominant foot up towards his jaw. The ball of your foot kissing his jaw and sending him backwards faster than you could blink, into Tony’s fleeing body, and finally into the titanium wall of the training facility. “I think we can call it even now boys,” you grinned cracking your knuckles.

In the distance, you could just barely hear Bruce groan and fall face forward just moments ago, revealing a just as lifeless and audible Iron Man falling on top of him.

Suddenly, you heard the door open revealing two pensive women you both know and love.

“Y/NN,” Natasha warned with her arms crossed.

In that moment, you felt your soul exit your body. In a feeble attempt to flee you pushed Steve towards them as a decoy and ran away. This was when Wanda used her powers to grab you and float you towards them.

“Ooo, you’re in trouble,” Clint said with a whistle, poking his head out from a random vent he was hiding in. You shot him and unappreciative glare and turned your attention back to the girls.

“Mes bébés, je suis désolé (my babies, I’m sorry),” you pleaded hopelessly as you weren’t permitted to move your body.

“No, Y/N. We told you not to hurt our teammates,” Wanda said firmly as she set you back down in front of them.

“But they did it to me first,” you said stomping your foot like a child, draining your body of the vibranium coating.

“Look at you and look at them,” Natasha said gesturing to you and to them. You, of course, did not even have a scratch on you, but Bruce was clearly passed out cold and Tony’s suit did not seem to be in good standing condition.

“They’re… alive,” you trailed off with a cringe.

“Come on, you’re going to time out,” Wanda said trying to hold in her laugh as Nat dragged you along by your ear. You helplessly trudged along wincing in pain.

Once you got to your shared room, Wanda open the door and Natasha pushed you onto the couch. When you landed in the center of the couch you crossed your arms and pouted. Natasha uncrossed your arm and hopped on, cuddling into you with your arm around her. Suddenly, you grew confused as Wanda did the same thing on your other side.

“Wait, I’m not in trouble?” You asked carefully.

“No, what are you, five?” Natasha chuckled turning the tv.

“We saw the whole thing, anyway, it was payback,” Wanda said intertwining your fingers and giving you a peck on the lips.

“Then, why did you guys make a whole show of it?” You asked with your brows furrowed. You crossed your legs and rest your feet on the ottoman, sinking deeper into the couch.

“It was funny,” Natasha smirked giving you a short and sweet kiss, patting your cheek.

“And… we wanted you to watch scary movies with us,” Wanda said just as Natasha turned on ‘Halloween.’

“Aww, gorgeous girls needed me to protect them,” you cooed, pulling them impossibly closer into you.

“No,” Natasha grumbled but used your hand to cover you’re her eyes when a jump scare was about to happen. Wanda hid her face in your neck and felt a loving warmth spread within you, at the action. In that moment, felt so rightfully loved and needed. When the jump scares finally happened, you laughed at how predictable it was and teased them both. They both pouted but you quickly got rid of them with some kisses.

[youre-a-total--poser]

Unhelpful

The Avengers x Teen Reader

--------------------------⧗--------------------------

Warnings: A mention of medicine

Age: Teen

Word Count: 528

Requests: Closed

Summary: The Avengers are being incredibly unhelpful whilst you're dealing with a really bad headache.

--------------------------⧗--------------------------

It had just turned lunchtime and Tony had ordered lunch for everyone. 

Even though you weren’t all that hungry you were still part of the family so it was only common courtesy that you joined them. 

You sat down on the empty chair that was in the middle of Natasha and Wanda.

 All of a sudden you got hit by a thumping pain in your head it was a much stronger pain compared to what you've been in all day. 

You let out a soft groan as you pushed the plate away from you and rested your head on the table and started to massage your temples hoping it would ease some of the pain. You felt someone rubbing your back. 

“Headache?” Nat asked you quietly not wanting to make it worse.

"Mmm-hmm," You replied.

"Do you need me to get you some medicine?" Wanda asked. 

"No, I took some before I came down." You answered her question.

Bucky dropped his plate on the table a little too loudly causing you to wince. 

"It could be polio. headaches are one of the main symptoms of it."  Bucky said as he sat down.

"What?" You said as you shot your head up too quickly causing you to feel slightly dizzy. 

"It won't be polio you would have gotten shots for that when you were little," Nat said trying to prevent you from getting worried. 

"Hopefully," Tony said as he took a sip of his drink

"What do you mean hopefully." You said with fear in your voice. 

"Nothing. It's fine you'll be fine." Tony said not want to make anything worst not thinking that his comment would scare you even more. 

"Headaches can also be a sign of the brain tumour." vision unhelpfully chimed in. 

Wanda gave him a disapproving look

"So I'm dying?" You questioned.

"No, you're not dying," Wanda said as she moved her chair closer to you and gently pulled you into her side, wrapped her arm around as you rested your head on her shoulder. 

"Can you all stop trying to freak her out anymore than she already is?" Nat told off the others. 

"You're all lucky cause If I was dying I'd come back as a ghost and haunt you all except Natasha and Wanda. They're the only ones who's been helpful." You said as you lifted your head from Wanda's Shoulder.

"What about me? I didn't even say anything." Steve said sounding slightly offended. 

"You know what you've done trying to wake me up at 6 am to go for a run," You said as you gave Steve a grin so he knew that you were only joking.    

"Can I be excused I want to go lie on the sofa and try to take a nap?" You asked looking at Wanda then over at Nat.

"Of course you can, sweetie, ill go grab you a blanket in a second," Nat said permitting you to leave. 

"Thank you," you said before getting up and walking off. 

You were incredibly grateful to have such a wonderful family no matter how much they annoyed or tormented you. You loved them. 

[hiddlesbummmm]

Thank you Anon for this wonderfully sweet prompt to fulfill! I hope I did it justice😁💓 Soft Loki is one of my favs!

Original Prompt is here

Warnings: None! Soft Loki tickle fic!

Words: 2264 Ler Loki X Lee Reader

Rain, Rain, Go Away

You woke to the sounds of crackling lightning and booming thunder echoing throughout the silent avengers compound. The wind was howling and there was a steady pitter-patter of raindrops being slammed against your bedroom window.

You jolted out of your sleepy state as another bright flash illuminated your room which was soon followed by another loud boom.

You had always hated these types of nights. The stormy weather always made you uneasy and scared you slightly. Of course, you knew that it couldn’t hurt you, but just the thought of being trapped outside in a storm made you want to vomit.

Being a Shield agent and part of the Avengers, you had been sent out on countless missions in a wide range of weather conditions. This in toll was the reason you feared storms so much.

You and Thor were sent on a mission to spy on a group of arms dealers who were based deep in a South American jungle. You had incredible stealth skills and honestly, you probably could have done the mission solo, but you were so thankful to have Thor beside you once the weather turned. Thor originally was there only for his mere brute strength in case you accidentally were ambushed. These guys were only the middlemen in the trade process, so they didn’t have many weapons with them usually.

After surveying the miniature arsenal for a few days, you had collected all the intel needed. You and Thor had hiked 7 miles to the compound, so that meant you had 7 miles to get back to your camp. It was starting to get dark and you noticed even darker clouds swoop into the sky.

As you made your way back to camp, Thor became distracted by a nearby cave and wanted to scope it out. You rolled your eyes and told him you would meet him back at camp.

“I’ll be fine Thor! I’m not scared of a little storm. I’ll see you soon!”

Thor nodded happily as you had permitted him to explore Midgard and you went on your merry way.

After about 20 minutes of hiking alone, the wind started to pick up. Then next came the sideways rain blasting cold water over your entire body leaving you completely soaked and frustrated. You tried to use your GPS to see how far camp was, but it had severe water damage and was useless now. You made a mental note to remind Tony to create waterproof versions of the GPS device.

Panic started to creep in as you realized you were now alone in a random jungle with low visibility and without a clue on where to go next.

By the time the lighting and thunder started erupting from the sky, you were full-blown terrified. You screamed for Thor as you curled up beneath a tree trunk and tried to calm yourself down.

“THOOOR!! THOOOOR! I NEED YOU!”

Your screams were silenced by the wind and hot tears poured down your face. You were about to give up all hope when you heard a voice in the distance.

“LADY Y/N! WHERE ARE YOU! CALL TO ME ONCE MORE”.

You screamed for him as loudly as you could manage and it didn’t take long before Thor had his arms wrapped around you in a comforting hug as he held your shaking form. You fell asleep curled up in his arms and didn’t wake until you heard chirping birds and felt warm sunlight in your face.

That mission not only created your fear of stormy weather but also created a wonderful friendship with Thor. Ironic you knew, since he was the God of Thunder, but somehow that only comforted you more. Technically, Thor could kinda control thunderstorms. He preferred to not interfere with nature, but on those particularly loud rumbles, he was able to silent them for you.

The next few weeks, you ended up sleeping with Thor every time there was another storm. Thor was delighted by your new friendship and would do anything to comfort you. He partially felt guilty for leaving you alone, but you made sure he understood that you wanted him to explore.

After a few months, you were much better in storms. You frequently checked the weather and if a storm popped up on the radar, the team and Thor did all they could to distract you with loud music, movie nights, or even board games. You appreciated everyone for not thinking of you as a child, but instead helping you embrace your fear and not face it alone.

Another loud clap drew you back from your memories, and you felt your stomach drop. This storm had completely caught you by surprise and you were terrified again. It also didn’t help that you had been thrust out of a nightmare involving Thor being killed on a mission.

Quickly, you put on your slippers and snuck down the hallway to Thor’s room. You needed his comfort after the dream you just had and the storm was only making matters worse. Tears were falling down your face as you tried to fight the embarrassment and fear coursing through your body. When you finally managed to creep down to his door, you wiped your tears and carefully opened the door.

Thor was fast asleep and snoring quietly. He was destined to go on another mission sometime the following day so you knew he had gone to bed extra early to ensure he was well-rested before the long flight.

Even in your terrified state, you couldn’t bear to wake him. You knew deep down he would never be upset with you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to bother him knowing he had a busy day ahead. Instead, you carefully crept back down the hallway and snuck into the common room instead.

You sat on the couch and looked out the window. The rain had slowed down slightly, but you could still hear the distant rumble of thunder. Besides Thor's room, this was your other comfort spot. Tony had built an electric fireplace into the wall that easily could be turned on with a switch. You also had ample amounts of fuzzy blankets and books stashed under the coffee table and so you were completely bundled in warmth.

“You too huh?” A voice said through the darkness. Completely started you jolted up and grabbed your chest as you looked to see who it was.

It was Loki.

Although you were extremely close to Thor, you didn’t know much about Loki. He moved into the compound shortly after your South American mission so you didn’t get much of a chance to bond with him. Thor told you he was completely harmless, but you still felt queasy around him.

He was more of a brooding type, who watched silently from the shadows. He was much more introverted than Thor, and you had only seen him join in on games or movie nights when Thor was present too.

You two were actually quite similar. The two of you were the newest members of the team and were much more stand-offish.

Although very intimidated by the Asgardian, you also felt a deep sensation of understanding. Seeing him here with you hiding from the storm, made you feel more comfortable in his presence.

Loki motioned to the spot on the couch next to you, and you nodded, scooting over to give him more room next to you.

You casually wiped the remaining tears from your face and hoped Loki didn’t notice. But, the soft twinkle in his eye said otherwise.

“It’s alright to be frightened. I’m not too fond of the thunder either.” Loki said with a small smile.

“Why is that? Your brother is the God of Thunder you know.” You teased slightly back. You felt more at ease talking to Loki and you felt the atmosphere was lighter now just with his presence.

“That’s just the thing dear one. Thunderstorms are a strict reminder of my brother. Though I love him dearly, that has not always been the case. Thunder always reminds me of our messy past and I would like to move forward. Oh, and it’s rather loud. Can’t sleep very soundly with it.”

Loki smiled kindly at you.

“Alright your turn. Why are you hiding in the common room wiping away tears from your lovely face? You could have awoken Thor you know”.

You gasped slightly in shock and pure embarrassment. You didn’t realize Loki had seen you run to Thor’s room. But it made perfect sense since he was typically lurking in the shadows anyway.

You bit your lip as you pondered what to say to the God. Loki placed a comforting hand on your knee, squeezing gently.

It tickled a lot more than you expected and you jerked your leg back with a little squeak.

Loki raised an eyebrow at your silly reaction and smiled in recognition.

“Ticklish I see? Well, we shall come back to that later. I want to know what’s troubling you first.” Loki said again with a firmness in his voice.

You signed again and let it all out. Tears started spewing down your face as you retold the horrible memory of being lost in the storm and losing Thor. You even mentioned the horrid dream you had that started this cascade of sadness in the first place.

Loki held you in his arms as you cried and listened intently to every word that escaped your mouth. He had not been around a mortal before who was expressing such vulnerability, but he was estátic that you trusted him enough to show this side of you, especially considering how little you knew of each other.

Loki held you without saying a word until you stopped crying. Wiping the remaining years from your face you looked up at Loki.

“Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, you can go back to bed now” you giggled as you notoriously coped with your sadness and embarrassment through humor.

Loki laughed quietly to himself and gave you a puzzled look.

“I am happy to be your comfort when my brother is slacking from his duties. But I will admit, I’m confused by who this Ted man is and why his talking is of importance?”

You barked out a loud laugh and covered your mouth as giggles fell out. Loki looked even more confused at your reaction and that’s what made the whole ordeal even funnier.

“It’s a Midgardian thing Loki! I don’t even want to attempt explaining podcasts to you!”

Once you said this, it only took a millisecond for Loki’s demeanor to shift into one from empathy to mischievousness. His eyes twinkled with glee as he calmly scooted his way close to you. With one swift movement, he had pulled your ankles closer to him causing you to fall onto your back and slide across his lap. He grappled for your hands and successfully held them together in one hand and placed his free hand on your stomach.

“You know, Midgardians are such peculiar things. You are so enveloped by your video boxes and pocket technology, and are full of all sorts of rowdy emotions and quirks.” Loki said as you tried to wiggle your way off the couch.

“But I do believe my personal favorite Midgardian quirk is your inability to prevent your ticklishness from being sought out by the world.”

You ceased your squirming when he said this and immediately felt your face flush red.

“I do believe the only way to tire you out and send you off to a happy slumber is through a little bit of laughter. How does that sound?” Loki ended his speech with a rhetorical question as you were violently wiggling around trying to escape his clutches. You were already giggling and soon exploded into laughter when Loki wasted no time clawing at your stomach.

His five fingers shook and vibrated across your belly and ribs. You couldn’t contain your laughter and you threw your head back as he teased out all your sensitive spots. Boldly, he released your wrists and pinched your sides methodically which caused you to roll into your stomach and you attempted to army crawl away.

“Not on my watch Love” Loki growled and rotated his body so he was sitting on your lower back.

“ Lohohki plehehease! Seee I’m hahppy nohowow!” You tried to plead, but Loki just tutted in response.

“What is that dear? Do you still feel sad? Well, let me fix that!”

Before you could retort something back, Loki reached back and ran his nails over the back of your knee and thighs.

With a screech, you frantically kicked your legs against the couch.

Loki noticed you were almost at Witt’s end, so with one last flurry of tickles against your ribs, he stopped his attack.

You rolled back over and leaned against the armrest. Loki smiled down at your sweaty red face.

“Come now. How about I help you wake Thor up so you can have a restful slumber?” Loki went to stand but you quickly grabbed his hand.

“Erm, actually Loki, I was wondering if I could bunk with you tonight? Thor has a busy day ahead and I don’t want him asking questions as to why I’m so sweaty.” You smirked.

Loki beamed with delight and carried you off to his room.

“Good idea, dear. My brother can be quite ruthless in his tickle fights.”

Your eyes widened as you realized that Loki was also ticklish, but decided that would be better saved for another rainy day.

[likea-black-widow-baby]

One thing I loved about MoM is that Wanda is allowed to be messy.

Full analysis under the cut

The MCU's treatment of Wanda has changed dramatically from AoU to MoM. Today we'll be tracing her journey from a standard postfeminist Strong Female Character to the more layered, messy, human version of her we see now.

Wanda doesn't get to look messy in the early MCU. Her first on-screen breakdown after Pietro's death is a perfect example of postfeminist objectification.

She gets to be powerful, but she tears through Ultron bots the same way that the only woman in a spy movie struts out of an explosion in a torn tank top carrying a single giant machine gun while all the men wear practical fighting gear. Wanda gets to be powerful as long as her titties are out and she's totally unscathed.

Elizabeth Olsen commented on the stigmatization of looking messy in an Age of Ultron promo interview: “Usually facial expressions aren’t great in slo-mo, because sometimes we’ll do super slo-mo moves, and, you know, you’re trying to do effort…But what I did just then, in slo-mo, is quite literally the most unattractive thing you could ever see anyone do. It’s so weird. And Joss [Whedon] would always remind me to use a calm face because that is okay to watch.”

The result being that Wanda looks dead-eyed in the movie where she's supposed to be the youngest and least experienced. So not only was she treated poorly in terms of over-sexualization, but media's (and Joss Whedon's) obsession with the picture-perfect woman prevented Elizabeth Olsen from portraying a human-feeling superhero in a franchise about humans trying to be superheroes.

The MCU starts moving away from this in Wandavision, exemplified when Wanda has her existential crisis and spends episode 8 in sweats.

She looks messy-- not yet violent-messy, but casual. She's allowed to be a mess in a very human way-- arguably the first time we see a woman coming apart mentally without her struggle being played for laughs (see, Pepper in Iron Man 2 and 3).

Side note-- I think this kind of breakdown is different from the ways we've seen Natasha weak because Natasha is permitted weakness in a very dramatic "look how pretty and sad and hot she is" kind of way. Pepper was always cast as hysterical for fretting over Tony and, while her concerns may be vindicated by the plot later, she is brushed off in the moment like one might pat a child having a tantrum on the head.

Anyway, Wanda is allowed to be an everyday coming-apart-at-the-seams messy in a manner not previously permitted to women in the MCU. But she's still immaculate in the final fight scene.

Agatha drains her power and it briefly gives her a haunted look, but it's still fantasy-messy. No real person is looking that much like a zombie, and even if Wanda briefly looks less than flawless, it's in an unrealistic way.

Which brings us to Multiverse. At the beginning of the movie, especially during her siege on Kamar Taj, I was fearful that it was going to be another repeat of AoU, CA:CW, or IW where Wanda gets to go a little crazy but remain the immaculate-looking Strong Female Character. Here's the scene that disproved my fears.

One might argue that it's just another instance of fantasy-messy, but what makes it different is how real her bones snapping back into place is portrayed. We can hear it. We watch her body twist back into its normal shape like a puppet seized by the strings, complete with ugly cracking noises that make her body seem real and breakable. It's a move a director like J*ss Wh*don wouldn't allow because it's gross and unsexy. Like people can be sometimes.

Gif credit: @lokihiddleston

Here's where all of this has been leading. Seven years and five directors later, Wanda gets to look like a human being. Cracked lips, tired eyes, greasy hair, face blotchy. It doesn't get more real than that. I hope Elizabeth Olsen enjoyed looking like this on screen, because I sure loved watching it.

P.S.

While searching for Elizabeth's quote, I found this very well-written article on postfeminism in Hollywood and the problematic handling of Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, and Mystique.

[insaneasgardian]

Avengers as random stuff my teachers have said before

Tony: I used to be the best at everything when I was still at school. Except for sleep of course!

Steve: Back in my day, we didn't have all these fancy schmancy little gizmos. No sir, no iphones, no ipads, if we wanted to communicate, we'd send letters!

Thor: Does anyone have a hammer? I need to bonk Stefano on the head with it. Natasha: Now guys, spiders aren't so bad! They eat pests like rude, stupid little annoying children for instance. Clint: I wish they'd permit us to teach archery at this school, but "noooo, too dangerous, you'll put an arrow through someone's head". Bruce: Art is actually very nice. It calms the soul down in a way science can't. I think I'll just steal Mr Keay's job and be the new art teacher, eh? Loki: There's nothing wrong with stealing, as long as you don’t get caught. Admit it, you’ve all pinched a pencil or two when you thought nobody was looking.

Bucky: Oh how it must feel being you, with regular arms.

Sam: Humans may be at the top of the food chain, but in my opinion, falcons, eagles, vultures and such are the best predators, so skilled, and when they hunt their prey they swoop down... so majestic.

Peter: You can do amazing things with chemistry. Just have a look at this super sticky silly string I made yesterday as an example! You too, can one day be like me.

T’Challa: I’m worried that I’m turning into a cat, I was just talking to my sister at break time and she said that I sounded like I have one of those hairballs that felines cough up in my mouth.

Stephen: I was supposed to be a magician you know? The best one ever, but my parents said “Do something science related”. My life sucks now.

Pietro: At your age I could run the circumference of the whole city without taking even a breath of air, meanwhile you kids start panting after a single lap of the school.

Wanda: I’ve always wanted red contact lenses, you know the halloween ones people use to be a vampire? Yeah, I want to just go around wearing those and watch people back away in fear.

Vision: I am not good with human children so I will just go ahead and give you a pat on the head... *pats head* I can’t really feel your hair but I can tell it feels very soft.

[emeraldiis]

Mirrorball // I

A/N: there will be a part two!! dont worry!!

AO3 Link

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Reader hides her insecurity under a guise of unwavering happiness, but Loki ends up finding out the truth. Meanwhile, Loki struggles with feeling worthy of love.

Warnings: suicidal ideation, insecurity, misunderstandings, angst

Loki wasn’t sure why you lived with the Avengers. Sure, you were one hell of a good cook, and you bartended at Tony’s numerous parties, but surely you could do that while having a place of your own. Normally, Loki wouldn’t have given a second thought to where somebody chose to reside--even if he couldn’t understand people’s willingness to be anywhere near Stark--but you were driving him insane.

When Loki had first arrived at the tower, it had been a cruel and unusual punishment. House arrest at the very place that he suffered a humiliating defeat, with the very heroes that had defeated him. Of course, not many people were very welcoming. He was permitted to roam about the tower as long as he stayed on good behavior, but that didn’t mean all residents were alright with it. 

Stark was the easiest to deal with; his jokes and quips about Loki’s unfortunate ventures to rule, well, anything stung, but the malice behind them faded with every passing day. After all, it had been a long time since New York. Banner and Wanda were another story. They treated him politely enough, but the fear behind their eyes whenever he passed by made something rotten stir in his gut. No matter how much he attempted to redeem himself, people still saw him as evil. A villain.

It seemed as if Steve and Thor were the only ones glad to have him there. The Captain’s open arms had come as a surprise, but Loki was intuitive, and very quickly realized that Steve saw him in the same light as he did the Winter Soldier, Bucky. And in a way, Loki could see the similarities. They had both done awful things--albeit under far different circumstances--and were now working on gaining the trust of the ones kind enough to give them a second chance.

So Loki found himself seeking out Bucky’s company far more often than any of his other acquaintances. It was a strange sort of companionship, but it worked; Bucky usually opted to listen instead of speak, giving Loki the opportunity to ramble on about whatever grievances he held that week. There were usually a lot, and Bucky was the only one who didn’t offer him useless advice. He simply nodded along, fixing Loki with that thousand yard stare until he had finished.

And then, of course, there was you. All smiles and playful energy, with a raunchy sense of humor and a sharp tongue. You were much smaller than him, in terms of height and stature, but he often felt dwarfed when you were in the room. You just took up so much space with that reckless attitude and need for everyone in the room to be laughing. In an odd sort of way, you reminded him of a clown. Not because you were goofy, or funny looking, no. You just...made people smile, held their attention and made it your dying goal to be there for entertainment. 

The first time Loki had seen you, he was quick to notice your easy beauty. It was rare that he found a Midgardian woman to be attractive, but he couldn’t deny that something about you just appealed to him. You weren’t a supermodel, nor were you drop-dead gorgeous in terms of Midgardian standards, but you had a very real-life grace. You didn’t look like those dolled up actresses he often saw on the television, you looked more natural, something that instantly caught Loki’s eye.

He had been reading quietly in the common room of the Stark Tower, having been forced out of his room by Thor to “at least be present, brother.” The other Avengers droned on about petty events while he attempted to tune them out. And then you stormed in, bringing a sense of excitement to the room with your very aura.

You greeted each person individually, making sure no hero was left out, until your eyes settled on him. Loki felt a heat rise in his cheeks under your intense gaze, and shifted uncomfortably. He brushed off the feeling as it simply had been a while since he had spoken to an attractive woman, not wanting to admit to himself the effect your presence had on him.

“New guy, Loki, psycho murderer,” you rattled off, still staring him down. Loki felt as if you were a cat, and he was the poor mouse that you had selected as your new plaything. “Which do you prefer?”

That caught him off guard. While he was still somewhat unfamiliar with Midgard’s social customs, he was at least sure that this was not a normal way to greet a stranger. That, and the disrespect warred with what he was used to: women on Asgard bowing to him, treating him with the dignity that a prince deserved. Despite the surprise, Loki’s aloof outer demeanor was not shaken, and he let the strangeness of it all roll off his back as he replied, “How about ‘God of Mischief?’ Or, if that is a bit too wordy, I would be open to ‘King Loki.’”

 Your eyes lit up, and Loki found himself having to fight back a smile. His unconscious reaction left him feeling confused and slightly frustrated. Why was this mortal girl sending his emotions in a whirl? Loki scrambled for some sort of reasoning that didn’t have him looking pathetic, and settled on the idea that it had been a while since he had bed a woman, and you were particularly attractive. It only made sense that his body would react in ways that he had not expected.

Lost in his head, Loki barely noticed you were speaking again. “I like this one!” You said, clearly excited that he had matched your banter with ease. “New best friend acquired.”

Once again, you had left Loki reeling. Best friend? He wasn’t sure if he had ever had one of those before, and certainly not with someone he had just met. In fact, he wasn’t entirely positive that he even wanted one. Especially in the form of some over-enthusiastic mortal. Before he could protest, you plopped yourself down next to him on the couch. It wasn’t a very big piece of furniture, so when you settled into your seat, you were only a couple inches away from touching Loki. 

He could feel the heat radiating off of your body, and once again, his heart fluttered. The urge to lean into you overwhelmed him, and Loki furrowed his eyebrows. God, had it really been that long since he had been with someone? The frustration at his stupid body for its stupid needs grew, and Loki made up his mind then and there. He would court you, then fuck you, and get over this silly little infatuation. With your earlier outburst at wanting to befriend him, Loki figured that it would be a breeze. With his silvertongue and charming good looks, he would have you squirming under him in no time. Easy.

But, of course, nothing was ever easy for Loki. You had managed to prove him quite wrong over the next few weeks. Your obliviousness to flirting was quite impressive, Loki found, despite even his most direct attempts. Every advance he made was thwarted by complete, and utter ignorance, coupled with the fact that you had probably not taken a single thing seriously in your entire life. 

Loki would compliment you, and you’d grin wolfishly and twist it to make his words sound insulting, then cackling madly. And then was the time he “joked,” about getting you into his bed, to which you burst into a fit of giggles and said, “No way! I don’t want to be the other woman to Bucky!”

Loki had recoiled in bewilderment, and decided that enough was enough. Obviously you weren’t worth the effort, considering you never actually listened to anything he said. He’d just have to find someone who was capable of holding a conversation without turning something into a joke.

But...he couldn’t deny that he was constantly having to fight back a laugh at your remarks, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself that you were annoying, not funny. And even when he had abandoned his plot to seduce you, Loki found himself gravitating towards you. Truth be told, he knew how to be direct, to really get what he wanted, but every time he worked up the courage to just lean in and kiss you...something stopped him. Deep down, he knew that if you actually rejected him, then the game would be over, and something about that just seemed devastating to Loki. So he continued with cat and mouse, letting you deflect his advances time after time, because at least you weren’t actually saying no.

He’d wander in the kitchen while you were cooking, sit down to watch your favorite shows and movies, and had even taken to sitting on the roof with you late at night when neither of you could sleep. Loki couldn’t avoid it anymore. It wasn't a simple attraction that he felt, it was adoration. You, a mortal of all creatures, had captured his interest. Maybe it was your wit. Maybe it was your unshakable happiness, the ability to keep everyone’s spirits up in any situation. Maybe it was the crushing need to protect you, to protect that pure soul from the viciousness of the universe. Whatever it was, you had actually ended up as Loki’s best friend. And somewhere along the line, he had fallen in love.

You sat in the living room alone, knees curled up to your chest on the couch. The four walls of your room had felt confining, like a prison cell that kept getting smaller. Your usual place of refuge would be the roof. But you didn’t dare venture up there like this. With your luck, Loki would find you there, and you weren’t sure if you had the strength to keep up your carefree persona.

Loki had never seen you upset before, never seen you weak. No one had, if you were honest. You fought hard to keep a smile plastered on your cheeks to keep up the appearance of a girl who never faltered with her high spirits. In a way, it wasn’t entirely fake. Joking around and being joyous was your real personality, but it was also a defense mechanism. If you never took anything seriously, nothing would ever hurt. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. The anxiety that wrecked your brain stayed constant, though, making your life a constant war with your own mind.

Your friendship with Loki was a fragile one, or at least it felt that way. You often felt as if you were walking on eggshells; every word that came out of your mouth risked driving him away. He had seemed to enjoy your wild and snarky personality when you first met him, so you didn’t dare try to be anything else. You were afraid that he would lose all interest when he discovered that you were just as fragile as all mortals were.

It was risky having your breakdown out in one of the main rooms, but the risk was better than dealing with the claustrophobia of your lonely bedroom. Besides, it wasn’t like you were going to sleep anyway. Better to just wait for daylight where you could at least feel some modicum of safety.

In your misery, you had forgotten that Loki was not an easy being to hide from. You were pretty sure that it was damn near impossible, actually. He seemed to...sense...your emotions, when you were in distress. And though you never showed it, kept that unwavering smile plastered across your face, he always appeared when you needed a friend to sit with. Tonight was no different.

Like a shadow, Loki emerged from the hallway in front of you, piercing eyes quickly landing on your curled up form in the darkness. He raised an eyebrow at you when you refused to even acknowledge him. “Dear, would you like to go up to the roof? Away from prying ears?” He offered.

You shook your head, and shrunk further into yourself when he crossed the room to sit next to you. Loki looked a little uneasy, as it was rare that you were silent. Usually, he had to fight to get a word in when you were on a tangent. Not that he minded too much. Though he liked to talk, he held a certain fondness for listening to you.

Loki tried again to engage you. “Why not? I know it’s a bit chilly tonight, but you’ve never minded that before."

It was clear that the god wasn’t going away until you gave him some kind of response, so you gritted your teeth and lied. “Sorry, bud. I just feel sick, that’s all.” You forced a laugh, but it sounded strained. “I’d rather stay close to the bathroom. I’m not sure Tony would be too excited if I puked on his roof.”

Blue eyes stared into yours, and you could literally feel Loki not believing you. Of course the God of Mischief would be able to spot a lie from a mile away. Still, he didn’t push the subject, something that you were grateful for. “Alright,” he said, leaning back into the couch. “Would you like me to sit with you?”

Fuck, you didn’t want to have to reject his company a second time, but you really needed to be alone right now. Loki seeing you have a meltdown would be the last straw, and you’d just end up throwing yourself off of the Stark Tower. No, it was better this way. “That’s okay, you get some rest. I’m not gonna keep you up for something so small.” You still hadn’t looked up, afraid that Loki would see the glimmer of tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. “Besides, you need your beauty sleep,” you tried to tease, but your voice came out flat and dull.

Loki thought for a second, then sighed. “As your king, I override your decision. I will be staying here until you’re feeling well enough to sleep.” He waited expectantly, obviously ready for you to make some bratty quip about not being one of his subjects, but it never came. You just didn’t have it in you.

Now that Loki had fully sunk down on the couch, his body was only inches from yours. You wanted so badly to lean into the heat of his side, to bury your face in the crook of his neck and let him cuddle your fears away. Instead of following your instincts, you squashed the daydream like a pesky bug. Nothing about Loki indicated that he was the cuddling type. Hell, he’d never so much as hugged you. He probably wasn’t a big fan of physical touch.

Deep breaths, you told yourself. Just keep it together until you’re on your own. That’s when you stiffened. Loki had stretched a long arm around you, and was looking at you intently to gauge your reaction.

“Is this okay? Humans are very social creatures, touch can help provide some comfort if you’re feeling ill.”

Loki’s scientific approach to the entire situation almost made you break out into laughter. Almost. Regardless, it was too hard to resist when you had such an open invitation. You scooted closer to the god and leaned against him, letting Loki hold you tight.

Before you could even try to stop yourself, you had burst into sobs. Something about being held had just broken the dam, and you were weeping uncontrollably into Loki’s shirt, sputtering out apologies all the while.

Loki shushed you and held you tighter, and you could’ve sworn that you felt an aura of possessiveness in his embrace. “It’s okay,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m here to help.”

You didn’t know how long you cried for, but when you were finally able to rein in the tears, you were horrified. Loki’s shirt was soaked with snot and tears, and your face was most definitely swollen and blotchy with red spots. And, worst of all, you had just proven to him that you were weak, and not worth his time. This was a disaster. 

Loki, hearing your sniffling come to a stop, pulled away to look at you, and bit his lip nervously before beginning to speak. “There’s something I must confess to you. Seeing you now, trusting me with your vulnerability-”

You cut him off by jumping up from your seat, knocking his arms away from you. Like hell you were going to listen to the rest of his rejection. You already knew what he was going to say. That you were weak, that he no longer wanted anything to do with you. “Listen, Loki,” you snarled, unable to mask the pain in your voice. “You don’t have to say it, I get it. I’m gonna go to bed, you don’t have to hang out with me anymore,” you said, rushing to get the words out before you died from humiliation.

Loki watched in bewilderment, his words of affection dying on his lips and you turned tail and ran out of the room. Rejected? By a mortal? He had never known such embarrassment. And you hadn’t even had the good graces to let him finish. His heart began to darken with rage and shame. Of course you ran away, of course you didn’t want to be with someone like him. No one did, he should be used to this kind of treatment by now. How foolish of him to think that you would be any different.

[thran-duils]

Use All of Me (P.2)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 2,384 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death Author’s Notes: This relationship is going to go ~downhill~ from healthy really quick. Please do not read if that is going to offend you.

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You woke up a few hours later to Steve still sleeping soundly. You were feeling closer to sober than not, which was good news considering you would most likely not have a hangover. Carefully, you crawled out of bed to not disturb him. Slipping your underwear and bra on, you kept quiet. Checking your phone, it was four in the morning. There were a couple missed texts from people. The one that mattered was sending one to Natalie to let her know you were okay; she had texted almost two hours ago and was probably sleeping now – albeit anxiously – and still you sent a quick text. It would put her at ease when she woke up. Everyone else would be asleep and could wait, you merely just read the handful of them.

Clicking on your uber app, you guessed that the prices be higher than normal considering the time of day, but you needed to get home. It was going to take them fourteen minutes to get there. You would have to move quickly to get dressed and get back outside.

Your finger was hovering over confirm when Steve sounded from behind you, “What are you doing?”

Craning your head over your shoulder, you saw he was still lying in bed, blanket still over him. It seemed he had been watching you with your back turned; for how long, you were unsure.

“Sorry, I tried to not wake you,” you apologized. You held up your phone weakly and said, “Just ordering an Uber.”

“I wasn’t sleeping all that much anyway. Don’t need much,” he told you and you rose your eyebrows. “Perks of being me. If you want, I can drive you home.”

“Oh. I mean, that’s not necessary. I can just order this Uber.”

“I’m not drunk if that’s what you’re worrying about,” Steve assured you and added with a small smirk, “A downside of being me. I can’t.”

“Wow,” was the first thing that came to mind.

“Yeah, wow.”

“That… kind of sucks.”

Steve chuckled, “Yeah, sometimes it does.” He threw the blankets back, nude as the day as he was born still. “But it does erase possibilities of me doing foolish things drunk and regretting them in the morning. Or being caught off guard.” He tossed a glance your way at that last statement.

“Good thing you can see the silver lining,” you said, closing the Uber app. You watched him for a few moments dressing himself, eyes tracing the movement of his muscles before reaching down to pick up your dress.

You were pondering what other things were different about him than the average person. You had thought him being a superhero was all about his strength, but it seemed there were far more things beneath the surface.

Steve reached for something in the bedside table, pulling out a handgun. He caught your watchful gaze, “What’s wrong? Guns make you uncomfortable?”

You had not seen him slip that into the drawer when you had come up to the room. Granted, you had gone to the bathroom. Was it all that odd that someone like him had a concealed weapon? You were sure Natasha Romanoff had been armed to the teeth.

Calmly, you joked, “No. But are we in danger?”

“Not when you’re with me, doll face,” Steve said, holstering it into the waistband of his dark jeans. “I’ll always keep you protected.”

Cocking an eyebrow, you teased, “’Always’? It’s just a car ride home.”

Steve merely hummed in acknowledgment as he threw his black jacket over his shoulders, slipping his arms in. He gestured to the door, “After you.”

<> <> <>

How is your day going?

Fine, just doing laundry with Natalie. One of my friends from the party. You?

“He’s texting me again.”

You were sitting on top of one of the washing machines in your laundry room as you and Natalie did your laundry a few days after Steve had brought you home. He had commented that the building looked secure and you found the comment odd. But he seemed pleased with that fact, for your safety, so you assured him it was. There were a couple of tables in the laundry room, so instead of traveling back up the stairs, the two of you brought work or something else to keep yourselves occupied.

“I told you it was a bad idea,” Natalie intoned, looking up from where she was scribbling ideas away for her next presentation at work. “And stringing him along is an even worse one.”

“It’s not serious. He’s probably just bored. We just had a one-night stand. And if I recall, you were quite enthralled with another ‘dangerous’ person as well. So, are you really in a position to be chastising me?”

“I didn’t go home with her. I just had conversation.”

“She didn’t ask?”

“She insinuated. I may have said that I was seeing someone.”

A laugh escaped, amused. “So, you lied to her?”

“For good reason.” She then added, “You could have done the same, you know. You would have obliged his request for your company and still been able to escape it.”

“I didn’t want to escape ‘it’. He was good in bed.”

“I know,” Natalie returned, rolling her eyes. “That’s what frightens me about you, Y/N. You like danger too much.”

“He also added me on snapchat. Thinking about sending him some nudes.”

“Why? So he can revenge porn you?”

“You’re so damn cynical, Natalie.”

Your phone lit up, interrupting the conversation.

Working. On a small break. It is going to be a long week.

You meant to respond but you saw he was texting again, so you waited.

It would be nice to see you again after it. How about you come out with just me?

It sounds like you are asking me out on a date. Or am I being too bold in assuming that?

“What are you smirking at?”

“He wants to go on a date.”

“Christ almighty. Seems like he’s wanting more than a one-night stand if he’s still texting you asking you out on dates.”

You shrugged, reading the new message from him.

Not bold. That is exactly what I was doing. What do you like to eat?

Can’t beat a steaming bowl of banh canh tom cua.

You smirked, guessing he was going to have to google that unless he was a fan of the cuisine. It gave you a couple minutes to put your phone down to talk to Natalie.

Shrugging you said, “What’s the harm in going on a couple dates? He seems nice enough.”

“He’s a mob boss, Y/N.”

Waving her off, you said, “Those are just rumors.”

“I don’t think so. You know there’s some deep-seated corruption and you can’t have me believing that just because they save people, it’s strictly out of the goodness of their hearts. Seems they only care when it’s about aliens, not regular day problems. Or protecting their assets. You think all of Stark Industries is above water? His technology is all over the place I would bet especially since they work with the government.”

“Well, aliens are a catastrophe, which you would think would require someone like, I don’t know, superheroes? And if you think Stark Industries is so invasive, you probably shouldn’t talk about him in that tone. He might hear you.”

Natalie threw a pencil at you and you laughed. “Stop teasing me!”

“You’re making it really easy. Did I mention you were cynical yet?” you retorted as you noticed your phone light up again.

Looks like there’s a few places in Brooklyn. I could pick you up. Saturday, 7pm?

That sounds good.

“Looks like I’ve got a date with a hot guy and some really good soup on Saturday night. And I won’t have to pay for it!,” you chirped. Natalie just told you that you were hopeless.

<> <> <>

“You just fucking go around doing whatever the fuck you want! You would be nothing without…” a man, bound to a chair, to spit out but trailed off, knowing he was digging himself a hole with the man in front of him.

He had been caught trying to steal a shipment of drugs between one of Tony’s and Steve’s distributors, along with a handful of other men. The others had been disposed of, leaving him. The lucky one Steve – someone they had not expected to be there tonight, along with Natasha, and it had been happenchance he had stopped by. A tragic turn of events for the attempted robbery – had chosen to beat information out of. So far, he had not been helpful and Steve’s patience was wearing thin.

Steve flipped the chair across from the man around, sitting down in it, resting his arms on the back of the chair. His smile was cold, a few moments of tense silence building between them. The man was bleeding from his nose, abrasions on his cheeks from the beating. His blood was coating Steve’s gloves.

“No, no. Finish what you were going to say. You were so jazzed. Let’s see where that gets us,” Steve encouraged, a cruel glint in his eyes. “In fact, it’s the most talking you’ve done all damn night.”

The man was quiet again, spitting out some blood on the ground next to him.

Steve gestured impatiently for the man to continue.

“One day you’re going to get what you deserve, Captain America. You’re a fucking farce. You’re just as every bit dirty as the cops on Stark’s payroll.” He laughed darkly. “In fact, you might be the dirtiest of all. You act so damn pious out in the open, but down here? You keep those drugs moving and the money flowing to all the corrupt politicians. I at least own what I am. You’re going to get caught and I can’t wait to read that headline!”

Steve was staring at the man, that icy smile still plastered on his face. Suddenly, his gun was unholstered and he fixed the barrel of the gun underneath the man’s chin, clicking the safety off. Steve stared deep into the man’s fearful eyes, and said eerily calm, “See, now that was the wrong thing to say. And I am happy to you inform you that you won’t ever get the chance to read a headline like that.”

The man’s head painted the wall behind him, the gunshot rattling through the room.

“Prick,” Steve muttered to himself, placing the safety back on his gun.

Natasha pushed herself away from the corner she had been resting in, sighing. “Didn’t give us any information about who he was working for.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Steve muttered, Natasha shooting him a look. “He wasn’t going to tell us. They could have been working alone – which is doubtful since they knew exactly where to come. Or it could have been Adrian sending in some bums to do his dirty work. Who knows? What matters is this place was compromised. And whoever the hell let them get past the security lines…”

“Rhodes is dealing with it.”

“Good. I’m sick of this shit.”

“You seem more on edge tonight, Cap.”

Steve sighed heavily, checking his watch. It was almost eight o’clock at this point. “I had a date. This was supposed to be a quick stop, not turn into a shit show. I can’t even text her down here to let her know.”

“With who?”

“The woman,” he said tightly. She was right, he was in a bad mood. “From the party a couple weeks ago.”

Natasha nodded, “She was pretty.”

“Beautiful,” Steve corrected stiffly, and Natasha smirked in response at his defensiveness. “And now I must grovel in apology to her for missing tonight and essentially standing her up. It was only the second date. We had a great time the first time… had Vietnamese food.”

“Second?” Natasha asked, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Well… third. If you want to count the first night at the party. I need a change of clothes.”

Natasha snorted, “There should be some upstairs.” She followed him out of the room, as the began ascending the stairs. She gave the men standing outside the doors orders to clean up and mentioned there would be cleaning necessary upstairs too in the locker room. “I have never known you to go on more than one, Steve. So, three. Three is something. So, is she just that good in bed?”

“I intend to have her,” Steve informed Natasha, over his shoulder.

“Haven’t you already?” Natasha joked, much to Steve’s annoyance.

He spat, “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Chill out, Cap. I was just joking around. I’m not the one you’re mad at here; he’s dead back in the room,” Natasha pointed out as they approached the locker room. Before he could go inside, she asked, “You think it’s that serious? A wife? Babies?”

“I’m making it that serious.”

“What if she is just looking for a fling?”

“Like I said, I want her and I’m gonna have her.”

<> <> <>

Steve had stood you up. You had waited around for an hour, sent him a text when he had not shown up at six like the two of you had agreed on. He had not responded. You were disappointed but not too surprised. What had you been expecting? You had been truthful with your friends that you believed it was just going to be some fun with him; the duration of the fun had been in question. And now it appeared it was short lived. It was not the first time you had been ghosted.

You were already dressed up, so you texted a few of your friends, asking if they wanted to go out. You found yourself at a club, dancing, having fun despite the way your night had started out.

<> <> <>

Y/N’s phone went to voicemail the three times Steve tried to call her on his way over to her place. He did not like being ignored. He parked near her building and walked to it, circling it. None of the lights were on in the apartment, which struck him as odd. It was only 9:30pm.

Pulling his phone out, he opened Snapchat. Clicking on her icon, he scrolled down to where she was sharing her location.

~~~

Tags: @imsonick, @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam

[comfortmarvelimagines]

You are Home, and Home is Safe

heyhey ! deciding to just get it over with and post this tonight (for those of you who don’t know what i’m talking about, a post explaining can be found here. side note, please be nice in my inbox, its been rough getting some of those comments). i am, however, going to continue to tag autistic!reader fics with #whenyoucantfindthequiet and #wycftq, so they’re easier to find. hope it’s what you’re after, nonnie, and i’m so so sorry it took so long !!

features : autistic!reader x mama!nat, lowkey asshole Tony Stark (it’s okay i didn’t make him really mean, just kinda well-meaning but misplaced/ mistimed) 

warnings : uhhh i guess meltdowns, some self-injurious behaviour

Words are hard. Always have been, always will be. 

You haven't always had a family. For years you were passed from foster home to foster home, with a consistent message: you were too much. Your needs were too high, your behaviour too confusing, your struggles too much to deal with. It got to a point where you began to question yourself, your diagnoses and trauma, wondering if it was all in your head or for attention like you were told over and over. 

That changed when you met Nat. 

It wasn’t immediate of course. There was the initial period of complete and total distrust, of another stranger whose life you were thrust into the middle of, floundering and drowning with no support. There was shutdown after shutdown. The trauma of being ignored and punished for meltdowns meant that you’d learned to internalise. You barely ate, and didn’t speak. But Nat met you where you were, unwaveringly. Was always calm, composed, voice level. Kept food out on the kitchen bench at all times, figuring out your safe foods and keeping them stocked. Realised you liked small enclosed spaces and stocked your bedroom with beanbags, pillows, stuffies and blankets, a permanent blanket fort taking up residence in the living space. Perhaps the most wonderful was her commitment to listening to you, with or without words. The superspy was quick to recognise your shutdown states from body language alone and responded quickly, with two option questions and the request to tap the hand of the answer you wanted. 

You almost wanted to feel embarrassed, humiliated, of the accommodations she made so immediately. But she always spoke to you conversationally and never in an infantilizing tone, like so many before her, and the trust you held for her grew. It didn’t always grow in a way that you felt was positive, though. As weeks passed you felt your shutdowns turn into meltdowns and silence into frustrated screams. You didn’t want to hurt her. You didn’t want to feel ungrateful or angry or like any of this was on purpose but somehow she knew. As she held you close after each one she reminded you that your body was unlearning trauma, that you were safe, that you were loved so fully and unconditionally and nothing, including meltdowns, would change that. The way she held you felt like home. 

But no one else was like Nat. Social workers were condescending, school was overwhelming, nowhere was safe. So you stuck to Nat. It wasn’t long after you were placed with her that she pulled you out of school, realising that they were doing more harm than good, and she was always there for homeschool. Not looking over your shoulder, but present. You could hear her humming through the walls, or swearing as she dropped a spoon into a pot of soup on the stove again, and it was comforting. It wasn’t the apartment that was home, per say, but having a parent made it feel like one. If she went to the grocery store or a walk in the park you came with, ear defenders on, clinging to her sleeve for safety. She told you that she loved you a million times a day, until one day you said it back. 

Words came easier after that. Simple things, like asking what’s for breakfast, became routine. It wasn’t just Nat softly illuminating the cramped space with hummed melodies and occasionally vulgar language but you as well, asking for help with homework or explaining a meme. It felt normal, comfortable, okay. The outside world was too much, but inside your home, the anxiety all but melted from your throat. 

You never wanted to leave safety. You wanted to feel it all the time. It was warm and sweet and heavy but in a calm way, like a weighted blanket sinking into your joints. It started as a one-time-thing, after a particularly rough meltdown, but you started sleeping in Nat’s bed. It just felt… right. The panic that set in when Nat left the room and you didn’t know where she was going or what she was doing or if she was ever going to come back was so all-consuming and nauseating that going to sleep alone, in another room, unable to hear her was torturous. What if she abandoned you, gone in the night, social worker beckoning you on to the next uncaring couple, crowded foster family or group home? This way, when you woke at 2am from a nightmare, the first thing you heard was her even breathing. Home. Safe. 

***

Tony Stark was something else. Nat eventually started to transition back to work, and, as being homeschooled permitted, brought you with her. Even in classified meetings where you weren’t allowed in you sat in corridors and made sure you could see her red braid through the frosted glass, glancing up from your laptop every few seconds to make sure she didn’t disappear while you wrote your English critique. The rest of Nat’s colleagues (it felt too weird to just casually refer to them as the Avengers and co) didn’t mention your presence, at least in front of you; it was as if they didn’t know what to say or how to say it. Not that you’d say anything back. Outside of the safety of home it was like the anxiety disconnected your brain from your throat, anything you wanted to say cut off before it reached your tongue. It was frustrating. The first few days ended in meltdowns when you reached the apartment and it felt weird and strange and almost like you were two different people but an all-round embarrassment of a child. It was weeks before things settled into a routine and a pattern of acknowledged non-acknowledgement. A pattern Stark ignored. 

You were sitting at the island bench in the communal kitchen, drinking chocolate milk and typing out an assignment, when you heard both Nat and Tony heading down the hall towards you. They’d just come out of a meeting, you sitting watch outside the whole time, and Nat had sent you to the kitchen to wait for her while she headed upstairs with Tony to drop off some paperwork to an intern. You hadn’t thought much of it. Sure, you didn’t like being away from Nat at all, but if she was clear in where she was going and how long she was going for (provided it was only a short period), you did okay. It was okay, until you heard the discussion from down the hall. 

“Damn, Nat, is that the longest you’ve been away from the kid?” 

“No.” 

“C’mon, Nat. I know the kid’s been through some shit, but this isn’t healthy. For either of you. What happens if you can’t get out of the mission next time? They’re gonna have to be away from you at some point. You can’t be in this line of work with a barnacle of a kid.” 

You’d heard enough. As the topic changed and they entered the kitchen, you didn’t look up from your laptop in greeting.  

*** 

Too much. Too clingy. Too anxious, too needy, too autistic, too much. You needed separation. Give Nat space. Of course she needed to work. The world needed her, and they didn’t need you tagging along. When you got home that night, you headed straight to your room. Buried yourself in the mountain of blankets and stuffies and waited until Nat came to check on you, facing the wall, feigning sleep. You doubt you fooled the former spy but nonetheless, she left you be, a whispered “I love you” hanging in the air as she creaked the door close behind her. 

It was seconds before you broke. It felt like choking. All of the fear that was slowly reduced to an ebbing tide through months of living in a caring environment crashed on you like the mother of all tsunamis, saltwater running down your cheeks and into your mouth as if smothering all the words you wished you could scream. It lasted for hours and hours and it was relentless, painful, as if your heart was being ripped out and an empty throbbing numbness was expanding in its place. You were too much. Too much. Too much. 

Nat stood outside your door at the time when she’d usually be gently waking you up, watching you unfurl and stretch yourself out of the cocoon of blankets you slept in every night. She knew something was wrong from lunch yesterday, and your isolation from her was concerning. She figured you needed space, but the sleep she knew was an act sat at the back of her mind and bugged her all night long. Even with that nagging suspicion that something was up, nothing prepared her for the way her heart sank when she came in and saw your body curled up, eyes red and barely open from exhaustion, pillow and face damp from tears. 

She was at your side in seconds. Your resolve to cut yourself off melted at the sight of her open arms, safe, warm, home. And immediately your body melted. Hands running through your hair, the promise that you were safe, loved, worthy of support, the request to “tell me next time, please, you don’t need to deal with this on your own.” 

For some reason, those were the words that broke out the first sounding sob in the 12 hours of silent crying. It was so loud and gut-wrenching and it almost didn’t feel like it came from you at all and it was such a weird feeling, and all of a sudden you were scratching at your arms to try and re-embody yourself and Nat was breathing calmly and deeply and gently rubbing your shoulders until you found yourself easing back into your physicality.  

“Did you hear what Stark said yesterday?” 

And just like that she figured it out, of course she did, because she’s a trained spy and that’s her job, to put the pieces together and slot the narrative into place. And god, were you grateful, because you couldn’t see yourself stringing sentences together to accuse none other than Iron Man himself of triggering waves of hurt just by stating what you’d convinced yourself was the truth. She was quick to reassure. You are loved, you are wanted, you are always welcome and will always be her child and what you need will always come first. The warm safety settled itself in your belly and you let the tiredness wash over you, drifting on a life raft of whispered Russian lullabies and Nat’s hand rubbing circles on your back. At peace.

Of course, you’d never tell Nat, but hearing her whisper-yell at Tony over the phone for being an insensitive dick was possibly one of the best moments of your life.

[gotnofucks]

My Little Girl - 2

Pairing: dark!Tony Stark x reader , slight dark!Steve x reader

Summary: Prince Tony has taken you, but keeping you proves more difficult that he imagined.

Words: 3.4k

Warning: Breeding Kink, DUB-CON, Smut, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Uh…seems to be turning into a series.

Read the first part here  

Part 3

MASTERLIST

——--—————————————————–

You were laying before the royal physician, the old man poking your stomach. Prince Tony stood behind him, refusing to wait beyond the privacy screen. The physician took your wrist in his hand, taking your pulse and waited. Finally, he let your hand fall and shook his head at the prince.

“I’m sorry Your Highness, she is not with a child.” He said to your relief and Tony’s vexation.

The Prince had claimed you for his own months ago, hoping to get you pregnant so he could convince his parents to break royal protocol and marry you. However, you had not conceived till now and his patience was thinning.

Princess Pepper of the neighboring kingdom was living in the palace with them, already betrothed to the Prince. Their wedding loomed closer with each passing day, and your childless womb prevented the Prince from breaching the topic of your nuptials with the King and Queen. Without the excuse of an heir, it would be impossible for the kingdom to accept a mere maid as their princess. As fearful as you were of public ostracization as a ruined woman, you were still relieved you didn’t have to marry the prince. It was a wonder how you hadn’t conceived yet, since Tony was insatiable, taking you multiple times every day. While he would partake in the pleasure of your mouth, he would always release in your cunt, holding his seed inside with his cock and fingers.

Tony came closer to you and took your hand in his, kissing it softly.

“Don’t worry my little girl, it will happen soon enough.” He assured you, one hand caressing your cheek. Then he turned to the physician who looked at you both with disapproval. “What is wrong with her? Is she sick?” Is she barren?

You and the physician both heard the unsaid question in his voice, and you felt both relived and dejected when the physician shook his head.

“Your Highness, the maid is –”

Before the poor man could utter another word, Tony’s sword was at his throat threatening to end his life.

“This is the last time I’ll remind you to not call her that. She is your future queen; you’ll address her with the respect due to her!” Tony thundered and the physician blanched in fear, nodding aggressively. You touched Tony’s hand and he looked at you, softening slightly before pulling away his sword. The old physician cleared his throat before continuing.

“As I was saying Your Highness, the lady is fertile and healthy. It seems something else is the matter for which she can’t conceive.”

“Are you telling me that my seed is sterile?” Tony asked in a hard voice and the old physician scrambled in desperation, shaking his head in negation.

“No, Your Highness, you and the lady are both in perfect health. However, other aspects may affect her childbearing abilities. Stress, physical exhaustion, food intake also affects a lady’s health.”

“And how do I make sure she’s fit to take my seed?”

“Your Highness, if I may be bold enough to say, I will urge you to desist. Your union is not sanctified by holy matrimony, and a child out of wedlock would bring nothing but misfortune to the kingdom.” The old man seemed to almost tremble as he finally said what had been on his mind since Tony first consulted him about you. It was not unheard of for royals to take pleasure in lowly servants, but to think of marrying one and having a child was blasphemous. The physician was loyal to the court and to the King, and if the Prince didn’t take his advice, he was determined to go to the King himself.

Tony’s eyes flashed and he stepped close to him, invading his space. Nose to nose, the young prince’s gaze bore into the old man’s, rage and challenge lightening them.

“You are the royal physician, so you already know the truth about my father’s health. How long do you think he’ll live, huh? How long until I take over the throne? Do you really want to cross your future king right now?”

His voice was deceptively soft and calm, and even you shuddered though the threat wasn’t directed at you. With the sure way he spoke of His Majesty’s health, you wondered if he had something to do with it. It was clear to the servants that King Howard Stark would have preferred any other son to Prince Tony, and only the interference of the Queen kept peace between them. Blasphemous though it was to even think such a thought, you would not put it past the Prince to commit treason. When Tony wanted something, he got it, consequences be damned.

The royal physician quivered in his feet, his aged and saggy face showing his inner turmoil. Finally, accepting that he would rather live a long life than a loyal one, he bowed to the Prince.

“My apologies Your Highness. I’ll prepare some herbs for the lady to help increase her chances at conception.”

Tony nodded and dismissed him, turning his attention back to you, sitting on the bed and leaning down to kiss you softly. You kissed back out of habit, not knowing what would happen to you now. Tony’s wedding with Princess Pepper was just around the corner, and you hoped that it would take place before you got with a child. Polygamy was not permitted under the laws of this kingdom, and even if you bore a child, The Prince could never marry you as long as Princess Pepper lived. You could run away to some far land where no one knew you, maybe salvage the rest of your remaining life somehow.

“My little girl, you need not worry.” Tony said, smoothing the frown that had appeared between your brows. He could be so tender and kind, that you almost felt bad about leaving him. But then you remembered that he controlled your life, every move you made was under his supervision. Not only had he snatched you from your family and kept you hidden in his own chambers, he took away your choice and honor. Even if you managed to escape his clutches, you will never be a respected woman.

Tony traced your face with his finger, leaning over you to place kisses over your neck and chest. You squirmed, your hands fisting his tunic as he pulled down the neckline of your dress and exposed your bosom. He flicked his tongue over your buds, watching them harden in the open air. You moaned softly when his hand reached between the folds of your dress, finding your core drenched.

“I will make sure you take my seed. You will bear my heirs; you’ll grow round with them. Your breast will leak and nurse them, and you’ll beg me to do it again and again.” His words were whispered to different parts of your body: your breasts and stomach and cunt. You couldn’t help your reaction to him, The Prince played your body like a maestro plays his instrument.

Your heart beat a staccato in your chest, breath getting sharper as your bare body met his and tangled in a dance of sweat and sweet sweet pleasure. Tony entered you in a long hard thrust making you arch your back and took your mouth in a possessive kiss.

“Tell me what I want to hear” He said.

“I am yours Tony. I belong to you my Prince.” You parroted as always and he rewarded you by mashing your nub between his thumb and finger, making you mewl in pleasure. You panted in his mouth, your hands around his neck and your fingers digging into his flesh.

Tony suddenly pulled out of you and flipped you on your back, pulling your ass up in the air. He thrust inside you from behind, his body curving over yours and hitting new angles. Your whines echoed across the chamber and you wondered for the hundredth time how no one knew you were here, or if they did and just didn’t care.

“Look at you, taking me so well. No one makes me this hard. Only you my little girl, only you. Soon we’ll have our brethren squealing around us, a family of my own.” He kissed your back before sucking your neck and marking you as his. One of his hands travelled down and found your nub again, and with a few expert tweaks the bubble inside you burst, your heat washing over Tony’s cock. He hissed in pleasure when you clamped around him, your softness making his balls tighten and release their load deep inside you. You dropped down on the bed, limp and spent. Tony’s weight crushed you before you whined and he rolled to the side, taking you with him.

He held your sweaty body flush to his, both your hearts beating fast and breaths coming down to normal. You curled into his warmth, the only time you allowed yourself to actually feel close to him. He was a cruel man, but he tried his best to never hurt you. When he lay with you, he made sure you got your pleasure. It seemed important to him that you enjoy it as much as he did.

You looked up at him with sleepy eyes and found his gaze already locked on you. He tipped your chin and kissed you slowly, savoring every second of it. Kisses like these scared you the most, for somehow, they felt more intimate than the act you had just done with him. Every time he kissed you like this, you allowed yourself to love him for that small time and it scared you more than anything else.

“I’ll make sure you’re my wife. Even if you aren’t with child until the wedding, you’ll still be mine. I’ll make it happen.” Tony said, tucking your head in the crook of his neck and pressing another kiss on your head.

“What about His Majesty? And Princess Pepper?” You asked softly, playing with the spattering of hair on his chest. A round scar was proudly displayed in the middle, a testament to his bravery where he almost died in a battle.

“I don’t care what they think. I promised you that I won’t abandon you and I am a man of my word. You’ll be my wife even if I have to rewrite the laws of the kingdom myself.”

You sat up at his words, looking at him with worry and trepidation in your heart.

“Tony, what have you done?” You asked softly and he signed, pulling you close and resting his head in the valley of your breast.

“Don’t worry about anything. You just look after yourself. No more stress for you, you heard what the physician said. You take your herbs and think about being my wife.”

You knew he wouldn’t say anymore on the subject, and you were too scared of the answer to push for more. Only the King had the power to rewrite the laws, and Tony couldn’t be king unless his father died. You ran a shaky hand through his hair, wondering how much he was willing to lose and sacrifice to have you.

“Y/n?” Tony asked, his voice heavy with sleep. You hummed and kept caressing his hair, lulling him deeper into his slumber. “Do you love me as much as I love you?”

His question made your hand still for just a moment before it started carding through his soft hair again.

“I care for you My Prince” You said but you didn’t know if he heard you, his sleeping body curled around yours and head resting over your heart.

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You twisted in the sheets, your body writhing in agony, a hand putting pressure to your throat. You clawed in the air, choking over a cry, eyes searching the darkness for him who’s hands were kind and gentle. The pressure increased and your breath escaped you, your body seizing in on itself and falling limp.

You woke up with a start, your hand flying to your throat in fear. The dream felt too real and you turned to see Tony’s side of the bed empty. Your heartbeat was unnaturally fast, and you stumbled out of the bed to pour yourself a glass of water. The pitcher was empty, and your dry throat burned with need of cool liquid to sooth it. You wanted to ring the bell beside the bed to call a maid in, but you were supposed to be a secret until the Prince convinced his parents to allow your marriage. As far as you knew, only the guards at the entrance knew you were hear and they were loyal to the Prince. They had explicit orders to not let you leave but you figured you could ask them to bring you water.

You opened the ornate doors of the prince’s chamber and poked your head out, the two guards who stood at attention turned to look at you.

“Can you please ask someone to get some water here? I – I would go myself but…” You trailed off, ashamed of being a kept woman. One of the guards nodded and told you to wait inside. You lay back down on the bed, wondering where Tony had gone off too. It was too early for him to be gone.

You heard the door open and assumed the guard had returned with the pitcher of water. You turned your back towards the door, hiding your face inside the sheets.

“Please keep it on the table, thank you very much.” You said and heard feet shuffling. When you didn’t hear them leave, you turned around and saw to your horror Lord Steven Rogers standing there. You gasped and sat up, pulling the sheets to your chin despite begin dressed in a modest nightgown.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, your voice revealing how scared you were. While it was the Prince who coveted you, it was his Lord who terrified you more. The Prince fancied himself in love with you, so you knew his chances of hurting you were little. But Lord Rogers was a different case. Despite knowing you had the Prince’s favor, his eyes wandered over you and made you feel cheaper than any night spent with the prince made you feel.

“Hello, lovely maid. Or should I start calling you My Princess?” He asked, his voice just as mocking and amused as ever.

“What are you doing here? The Prince would not like you being in his chambers alone with me,” you said, thankful your voice came out a little stronger.

Lord Rogers smiled at you, and to your surprise poured you a glass of water and approached you with it.

“You’re under his highness’s protection. I’m making sure you’re comfortable when he’s away.” He said and held the glass out to you. You took it with shaking hands and sipped silently, looking at him with vary eyes.

“You have done your job then, please leave.” You said and he chuckled.

“Oh, look at you, learning to give orders. Is his seed blessed that taking it makes you a royal?”

He was standing too close to you, so much that with another step he would be leaning almost directly over you.

“Please, leave.”

His hand shot out and touched your cheek, making you jerk back in alarm.

“You look so pretty when you beg, lovely maid. I can see now what he sees in you. What wouldn’t I give to have you to myself.” Lord Rogers mused and the moment you saw his hand move you jumped over to the other side of the bed, taking the sheets with you. He didn’t follow like you expected and stayed far with a smirk on his lips.

“Lord Rogers, you must leave now, or I’ll scream”

He shook his head, the golden hair on his head gleaming in the sunlight that filtered through the window.

“I almost feel sorry for you, for the false hopes he’s given you.” He said and leaned against the opposite wall, staring at you. “You are after all innocent in this game, but you will suffer the most.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, looking to the door, and hoping Tony will walk in and rescue you.

“He will not marry you. He can’t, until you are with a child, which you won’t be.”

You looked at him sharply, suspicious clouding your vision.

“How do you know I’m not with child? What do you mean that I won’t be with one?”

Lord Rogers smiled a secret smile, his eyes twinkling in mirth and intrigue.

“My lovely maid, you’re so naïve. Haven’t you heard that even walls have ears? This is the royal palace, and you’re consorting with the prince. You already have many enemies.”

He pushed away from the wall and came for you before you could move. Cornered against the cabinet, he leaned close to you, taking in your scent.

“When he pushes you away, I’ll be waiting with open arms. Unlike him, I’ll actually make you mine.” He said.

He moved away not a second too soon as the doors opened with a bang and Tony swept inside. He looked at your scared, wide eyes before narrowing his gaze at Steve who gave him a small bow. Tony came up to you and took you in his arms, your body pressing into him.

“Steve, what are you doing here?” Tony asked, anger evident in his tone.

“Just bringing your lady some water that she asked for,” Steve replied. Tony looked at you in question and you nodded, burrowing your face in his chest. When it came to the two men, you would always choose the Prince.

“Get out. You’re not to be with her alone.”

Steve nodded and without another glance at you left the chambers. The moment he was gone, Tony fisted your hair and pulled you in a long and arduous kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs.

“What did he really want?” Tony asked and you hugged him tighter.

You almost kept mum, scared that what Lord Rogers said was true and Tony would abandon you and throw you to him. But one look in Tony’s eyes and you knew he was much too possessive to even think about letting you go. So, trusting your gut you told him everything that Steve said.

“My little girl,” Tony said, your face cupped his hands, “tell me you didn’t believe a word that bastard said. I will never leave you.”

You nodded tearfully, snuggling into Tony’s warmth.

“He said I can’t bear your children.” You whispered and Tony grunted in displeasure.

“That’s something I’ll look into. Steve is not under my control anymore. He reports directly to my father, but you don’t worry about that. He’ll not get to you. I’ll kill him if he ever so much as looks at you again, I’ll kill him even if I have to bear my father’s wrath for killing one of his men.”

While Tony tried his best to reassure you of your safety, you wondered how much of that was true. Steve’s words made sense. Your relationship with the Prince must have made you enemies, and you wondered if running away would be a good choice even if you get a chance to do so. Staying with the Prince would guarantee you your life and protection, but if you leave and Steve catches you…you shivered in fear. Even the thought of him putting those hands on you made you sick.

You looked at Tony who was sleeping beside you, one of his hands clasping yours. You realized suddenly that though he may be a Prince, he was still not in control of his own destiny. If the danger you sensed in your heart was true, then not only were you in danger, but the Prince was being conspired against by his own people.

You touched your stomach, your mind going over Lord Roger’s words over and over. The way he said that you can’t bear kids…it made it sound like you couldn’t have Tony’s children, but the physician had said you were both is perfect health. Your head hurt with what that might imply, and you turned to the side, shifting closer to Tony’s warmth. His arms wrapped around you even in his sleep, and you closed your eyes, hoping sleep would claim you.

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