#yeah that super deadly guy who just killed like all of your men drew this

[fandom-imagines]

Fear the assassin

Fandom: League of Legends

Pairing: Talon X Reader

Warnings: Death (not Talon or reader), blood.

A/N: I had a dream about Talon and I had to write about him, I’ve been thinking about him all day. 

(not my gif)

Never in my life had I imagined that I would grow to have a crush on an assassin, but then he came into my life.

Talon.

We had met a few years ago, he had actually been sent to kill me. I don’t exactly understand why he didn’t, but we actually became… friends? At least I think we did.

And that leads to where we are now: stood on top of a bridge, arguing. What we were arguing about was completely beyond me, but we were arguing, and it was really bad.

“I don’t understand why you can’t do one simple thing?!” Talon yelled at me, backing me against the railings, hands trapping me against it as my body was immediately filled with fear.

He wouldn’t hurt me… right?

No, of course not. He’s my friend.

Instinctively, I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, an action I often did when nervous. It was at this moment I noticed Talon’s eyes drop down to my lips, eyes widening as the anger faded from his face.

“Talon,” My voice broke the silence we had fallen into, “are you okay?”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m angry as hell. But, right now I don’t know if I want to kiss you or shove you off this bridge.” His deep voice said, face close enough that I could feel his breath leaving his lips.

My eyes widened at his confession.

“Can I pick?” I asked quietly, blush darting up to my cheeks at how close we were.

He’s so close.

“Depends what you’re going to choose.” He whispered, somehow getting closer.

“I was favouring the bri-“ I began in a joking manner, only to be cut off by his lips pressing against my own, hand moving from the railing behind us to grip the back of my neck. My eyes widened, freezing momentarily before realising what was happening.

My crush is kissing me.

My super cool, super attractive assassin crush is kissing me.

My hand also raised to his neck, pulling his closer as his spare hand wrapped around my waist.

We were deep in the moment when a dark voice ruined the moment.

“Talon du couteau,”

Talon’s lips immediately parted from my own, instinctively standing in front of me. I felt him shove me back as he drew his blades, ready to fight.

“What do you want?” Talon snarled, eyes as cold as steel.

“We know who she is.” They grinned as they noticed my eyes widened, “And we know exactly why she needed assassinating.”

“Please don’t,” I murmured, voice just loud enough for them to hear.

The two men chuckled, taking a step forward, Talon following.

“You shouldn’t like her, Talon. She’s really not worth your time.”

“Why not?”

“She’s the daughter of the people who had your parents killed.”

But Talon’s stance did not falter, instead he dashed towards the men, swinging his blades with such strength that shouldn’t be possible.

The men saw an opening during his rage infested attempt at killing them. One man grabbed Talon while the other ran towards me, an arm grabbing me around the waist, the other around my neck. My eyes widened, more concerned about the blade at Talon’s neck that the arm that was slowly cutting off the oxygen to my brain.

“Kill her, Talon. Or we will.” The men holding his spat into his ear, nodding towards his friend whose grip around my neck loosened.

“No.” He stated blankly, staring directly at the guy behind me, such venom in his eyes unlike anything I had ever seen.

“She’s an assassin too, you know? A very deadly one at that.”

One by one my secrets were being revealed. I didn’t want Talon to know; I didn’t want him to hate me. I really hoped he wouldn’t.

“I don’t care.”

I smiled slightly which was soon dropped by the tightening around my neck, slowly beginning to choke me.

Talon growled, doing his best to get free despite the blade breaking the skin of his neck. This simply angered me.

How dare they hurt him.

My arms, which the man had foolishly left free, raised to the guys arm around my throat, gripping it with extreme force as I flung him over my shoulder, a loud crack sounding as I did so. I knew two of us were not going to get out alive and I knew exactly who it had to be.

Talon quickly did the same, taking the man off guard as he watched his friend fall to the ground. The two men were held by their throats by Talon and I.

I leant down to my victims’ ear, whispering quietly.

“Fear the assassin with no master.”

I simply snapped his neck, dropping him to the floor.

Talon quickly slit the man’s throat, blankly staring into his eyes as he slowly watched the life drained from them.

We stood in silence for a moment, both of us looking at other things.

“Assassin, huh?” Talon asked me, finally turning to face me as I gave him a timid nod.

“Y-yeah.” I smiled sadly, assuming he was going to hate me.

“Well isn’t that sweet. Two assassins kissing on a bridge before murdering two guys.” Talon smirked, kicking the man away from him as he stepped towards me.

I watched his eyes soften as he reached me, a hand raising to gently cup my cheek before pulling me into a gentle kiss.

The first of many.

[avengerscompound]

Fury’s Angels

Fury’s Angels: An Avengers Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x Maria Hill x Natasha Romanoff

Word Count:  2613

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Smut (MFF bisexual threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex)

Synopsis:  Romanoff, Barton, and Hill are Fury’s dream team. They work together like they are three parts of one whole. It’s not just out on the field where these three work well together though.

Fury’s Angels

“Hey Bird, you got eyes on the spider?”  Hill’s voice came in over comms.  Clint sat on the roof, he hadn’t taken his eyes off Natasha since they’d moved into position.  She moved through the room like fluid.   Her red hair stood out in a sea of blondes and brunettes and her tight black dress made sure that once she had their attention, they couldn’t look away.  She’d stop to talk to the most important people.  She laughed at the right things, throwing her head back so her hair flipped over her shoulder and cascaded down her back.  The light caught it so it looks like actual fire in motion.  She held her throat so her target's eyes were drawn there and then down to her breasts.  Clint knew she faking it.  When Natasha was genuinely laughing she double forward holding onto the other person shoulder and snorted.  This was all for show.  She was the lure and they bit every time.  Clint couldn’t blame them.  She looked good enough to eat.

“I sure do.  She’s looking deadly as ever.”  Clint replied.  “She’s going to want her feet rubbed after spending so long in those heels though.”

“Head in the game, birdbrain.”  Hill teased, though she knew he was right.  Natasha could wear heels.  She could fight in heels.  She could do a series of elaborate acrobatic flips in heels.  She could even kill a man four times her size using her heels.  But if she spent a full day in them she whined until someone agreed to rub her feet.

Clint laughed his eyes tracking Natasha through the room.  “She found the target and they’ve taken the bait.  Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“I call not rubbing her feet.”  Hill teased.

Clint whined.  “What?  It’s always me.”

“Well, your hands are bigger.”  Hill insisted.

There was another whine from Clint.  “You’ll owe me.”

“You know I’m good for it.”  Hill shot back, but the words were heavy with innuendo.

“If you two don’t quit flirting over comms and do your job, I’ll separate you from now on.”  Nick Fury’s voice came through the comms hard and stern.  Both Hill and Clint started laughing.

“You’d never break up the Charlie’s Angels.”  Hill scoffed.  “Our record’s too good.”

“I’m one of the Angels?”  Clint asked.  “Which one am I?”  

“Drew Barrymore’s,” Hill answered.

“What?  I’m at least Lucy Liu.”  Clint yelped.

Fury rolled his eyes.  They might be the best but they tried his patients.  “Agents some professionalism please.”

There was silence on the comms.  Clint kept his eyes on Natasha.  The target, a slimy-looking senator was now leaned right into her, making no pretense other than that he was ogling her tits.  Clint’s fingers tightened around his bow and he reached behind him like he was just making sure the quiver of arrows was still in place on his back.

“Does that make Nick, Bosley or Charlie?”  Clint asked.

“I’m obviously Charlie.”  He responded quickly and Hill and Clint broke down into laughter again.

“I don’t know, boss.  We actually see you.  I think you’re Bosley.”  Maria teased.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Nick said, but when he switched the mic off he chuckled too.

Clint watched as Natasha followed the target to the edge of the room.  His view became slightly blocked by a group of people passing in front of the window.  He shifted trying to see past them.  When they finally move on Natasha was nowhere in sight.

“Fuck, I’ve lost, Widow.”  He cursed into comms.  “Nat. Can you head me?  What’s your status.”

There was dead air on the comms.  All Clint could hear was the hammering of his heart.  “Nat, if you’re in trouble let me know.”

There was a brief crackle where the sounds of struggling were clear and Clint pulls out an arrow.  “Going in.”

He aimed and loosed the arrow, it flew straight, a trail of cord rolling out behind it.  As it got near to its target the arrowhead opened up into a grappling hook and it attached itself to the side of the building.

He tugged on the cable and jumped.

“We’re sending in backup.”  Hill said as Clint crashed through the large glass doors that opened up onto the balcony.  The was a group shriek from the partygoers who all stumbled back away from him in shock.

He groaned and rolled onto his back.  His face and arms were cut up from the glass and his back felt like a flaming hot rod had been switched out for his spine.  Two security guards drew their guns and rushed over to him.

“Aww… guards.”  He whined, as he struggled to his feet and nocked another arrow.  He trained the arrow on one of them as they both aimed their guns at him.

“What do you think you’re going to do there, Robin Hood?”  The guy on the left asked.

“I think, what I’d like to do is ask you what happened to my friend.  Little redhead.  About shoulder high.  Super hot in a black dress.  Then you’ll tell me and I’d walk out and go find her.  What’s probably going to happen is I’ll shoot this arrow into your friend’s hand here and pin it to the wall.  You’ll try and shoot me but I’ll avoid it and then smack you on the back of the head with my bow.”  Clint answered.

“Nice one, wise guy.  Put it down.”  The guy on the right said.

Clint sighed and loosed his arrow.  It punctured the guard’s hand, making him drop his gun and pinning it to the wall behind him.  The remaining guard fired but Clint was already feinting left, he spun around behind the guy and hit him hard in the back of the head, knocking him to the ground.  Clint, stepped on his hand, making him release the gun, and nocked another arrow, pointing it at the guy’s head.

“Would you like to know exactly how much pain your friend is in?”  Clint asked.

The guard shook his head.  “No, please don’t.”

“My friend.  The redhead.  Where is she?”  Clint spat.  The guard pointed to a wall to the left of the room.  “Hidden door?”  Clint asked.  The guard nodded.  “How do I open it?”

“Panel on the left.”  The guy answered.  Clint smacked him in the back of the head again, knocking him unconscious and ran to the wall, pressing the panel.  The wall opened up and he turned on the crowd of party-goers.  “Ladies and gentleman, enjoy your night.  Don’t think of going anywhere, the authorities are on their way.”

He rushed through the hall and down the flight of stairs that lay behind the secret door.  On the lower level, there were multiple doors that opened up into empty rooms.  Some looked like offices, some just storage.  Finally on the bottom left he found her.  Four men were unconscious on the floor around her and a fifth was now tied to a chair while she leaned over him.

“Aww, Nat,” Clint whined, relaxing his bow.

She turned to him and sighed.  “You, birdbrain.  Did you really think they got the better of me?”

Clint ran his hand through the back of his hair.  “Yes.  No.  I don’t know.”

“How long have we been working together now?”  She asked.

“Nat.”  He whined just as Hill appeared behind him with half a dozen SHIELD agents.

“What you too?” Natasha scolded.  “Who do you think I am?”

Hill laughed and waved the other agents in.  “Alright, clean this up.  Maybe we can get home tonight at a reasonable hour.”

With the injuries he’d received, Clint wasn’t back at the apartment he shared with Natasha and Maria until an hour after them.  When he came through the door the two women were in their panties lying on the couch.  Maria was lying half on top of Natasha, her head in the crook of Nat’s neck.  Liho the black cat that had adopted Natasha was curled on the arm of the chair and Lucky the one-eyed dog Clint had rescued was curled up on the floor below them.  Natasha lazily played with his ears while she ran her other hand up and down Maria’s back.

All seven eyes looked up at him as he closed the door.  “Finally,”  Natasha said, as she and Maria retracted their legs to make room on the couch for him.  He flopped down and kicked his shoes off and four feet plopped into his lap.

“Feet.  Maria said it was on you.”  Nat said.

It was hard to define what Clint, Natasha, and Maria had.  They were together.  The three of them.  Though it was open.  Sometimes they weren’t together at all.  They didn’t want to define it.  In many ways, they couldn’t because defining it made it real and making it real meant they had to admit to things they couldn’t.

At the core, it was the three of them.  Together.  Having each other’s backs no matter what.  So when the rest fell into place it was just comfortable.  The way things were meant to be.

Clint started to work his thumbs over Natasha’s arches.  “Is that so?  Did she also tell you she’d owe me?”

Natasha let out a small moan as the tension was released from her tired feet.  “Did you really, Hill?  And what exactly would that entail I wonder.”  She mused, curling a lock of Maria’s hair around her finger.

“I don’t know,”  Maria said, looking up at Clint, her hand slid up Natasha’s side and she started to tease her thumb over her nipple.  “How good is the foot rub?”

Natasha let out another moan as Clint rubbed his thumbs in circles over the balls of her feet.  “Yeah.  It’s doing the job alright.”

“One job deserves another I’d say.”  She said climbing up over Natasha.  Natasha stopped her as Maria’s legs straddled Natasha’s waist.  She pulled her down into a kiss and the two women moved against each other, Maria rolling her hips slightly.  Clint continued to rub Natasha’s feet but he kept his eyes on them.  His cock gradually hardened in his pants both at the sight of them and the promise of a little something for him too.

Maria pulled away and slipped onto the floor.  She positioned herself between Clint’s legs and began to unfasten his fly.

“You look pretty good down there, Hill.”  Clint teased.

She slapped his leg.  “Do you not actually want this, bird?”  She asked as she freed his cock.  It sprang out of his boxers and she quirked an eyebrow at him. “Looks like you really want it.”

“Yes please, Maria,”  Clint said grinning down at her.

Maria ran her tongue up the length of Clint’s shaft before licking her lips.  “That’s what I thought.  Now be a good bird, won’t you?”

Clint let his head fall back and let out a moan as Maria plunged her mouth down the full length of Clint’s shaft.  He let his hands drop to the couch and his fingers dig into the cushions.

Natasha sat up and moved closer to him, pressing her body against his.  Her breasts pushed up against the side of his chest.  “You think you get to just lie back and enjoy that?”  She teased.

Clint curled his arm around Nat’s waist and his hand slid down to her pussy.  His fingers slipped between her folds he ran them up and down in time with the bobbing of Maria’s head before he starts focussing on Natasha’s clit.

“That’s a good start.”  Natasha purred and Clint leaned in, kissing her hungrily.  Their tongues battled for a moment before Clint pulled away abruptly, pulling her up higher and latched onto her breast.

Natasha moaned at the sharp pleasure that surged out through her breast meeting the slow tingle that was building from her cunt in her stomach.  Clint moaned against Natasha’s skin, and his hips rolled up against Maria.

Maria slowly pulled back, sucking hard on Clint’s shaft.  “Bedroom, I think, Angels.”

Clint tried to stifle his laugh against Natasha’s skin unsuccessfully.  “Sound plan.”  He said as Natasha looked at them slightly confused.

The three stood up.  Natasha jumped up onto Clint’s back and kissed his neck as he and Maria kissed their way down to Maria’s bedroom.  When they walked through the door, Clint lifted her and carried her to the bed.  When he placed her down, Natasha slipped down from Clint’s back and kneeled in front of Maria.  The two women kissed and their hands traveled over each other’s skin.  Clint pulled their panties down and off before stripping out of his own clothes.

By the time he was naked, Maria was on her back arching up off the bed as Natasha crouched between her legs, kissing and sucking at her pussy.  As the tart musk of Maria filled Natasha’s mouth making her hum happily as she thrust her fingers inside her friend, fucking her with them and drawing more fluids from her, Clint crouched behind Nat and ran his tongue up her crevice.

Natasha mewled between them.  She and Maria couldn’t keep still.  Their bodies jerked and their legs trembled but they never stopped. Natasha kept stroking along Maria’s g-spot as she nipped and sucked on her clit as Clint’s thumb ran over hers and his tongue swirled around her folds.

Maria came arching off the bed and crying out.  Her hands bunched into Natasha’s hair.  The sound made Clint’s cock jump and precome leak from the end.

Natasha’s orgasm hit as she lapped up Maria’s fluids.  She fell forward into Maria’s lap and lay panting as Clint stroked her through her climax. As it passed she and Maria turned on Clint.  “Come here, ptichka,”  Natasha said.  “You’ve been so patient.  Now you can have your reward.”

Clint climbed up on the bed and Maria and Natasha guided him onto his back.  Maria grabbed a condom from her bedside cabinet and removed it from the packet.  She placed the ring of latex between her lips and lowered herself down, using them to roll the condom down over Clint’s shaft.  Clint groaned and his hips bucked up.  “Fuck, I love it when you do that.”  He almost growled.

Natasha straddled Clint’s hips and lowered herself down onto his cock as Maria straddled his face.  Clint groaned grabbing onto Maria’s thighs and digging his fingers into her muscle.  Natasha and Maria rode him.  There hips rolling in tandem.  They kissed and teased at each other.  Pinching at nipples and running their hands down each other’s stomach until they were each teasing the other’s clit.

Below them, Clint came apart.  He moaned graphically as he swirled his tongue around Maria’s pussy.  The taste of her mixing with the taste of Nat lingering in his mouth.  Her juices flowed freely, and he drank them all up.  His hips snapped up into Natasha as she rode his cock, milking it.

Both women seemed to come together.  Natasha orgasm hitting her a split second before Maria came all over his face.  The intensity of it and the way Nat’s core pulsed around his cock set his off too and he jerked up and emptied inside of Natasha with a graphic moan.

Maria and Natasha slipped from atop Clint and collapsed down onto the bed.  Clint and Hill curling themselves into the redhead.   “Do you think you’ll both sleep?”  Hill asked.

Clint and Natasha hum in unison, both exhausted and relaxed.  “For a while at least,”  Natasha answered.

“Good.  Would hate for all this good work wasted.”  Hill teased.

Clint laughed.  “Well, that is never a waste.”

[peterporkerpeter]

Code Red — Part Three [Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader]

MASTERLIST//CR MASTERLIST

WC: 2.900

Y/N shuffled into the black car, Tony sitting in the front with his hand steadily curled around the steering wheel. Clint happened to be conveniently placed beside him, his eyes continuously darting towards the rear view mirror to glance back at the two teens.

The car ride was absolutely silent—at least for the first half of the ride. Y/N was too anxious to make any half-assed quick-witted remarks, and Peter was too concerned with consoling her. His hand gently rest upon hers, the warmth of his fingertips radiating onto hers. A part of her was put to ease by the simple gesture, but that certainly didn't distract from the waves of anxiety crippling her every limb.

On top of that, she was hoping Clint would keep his big fat mouth shut, but that was unlikely. The archer always seemed to enjoy being a chaotic human being, so he was entirely unpredictable. Y/N despised that about him. She hoped that maybe he did know how to shut up, otherwise she was in for long ride and an earful from Tony.

"Why is no one talking?" Tony cut the silence with a knife. He spared at glimpse at the Clint then flickered his eyes up towards the mirror where he made eye contact with Y/N.

"Because I'm trying not to hurl," Y/N groaned, slouching back.

She blinked away fearful tears, not wanting to appear weak. She kept forgetting she was still a child, but Natasha's words kept ringing through her head. Now was not the time to act like a kid. It was important to remain structured and intact for the mission, as much as it pained her to do so. Y/N didn't realize how hard that was. Natasha seemed to do it so fluently like undercover work was merely instinct. Then again, she was a trained assassin.

"I think we should call this off," Clint added, pondering on his little conversation with Y/N earlier. He couldn't stop thinking about the miscellaneous Prom question. Why would she ask that?

"No!" Y/N shouted, sounding a lot harsher than she intended. Everyone shot her concerned glances before she relaxed, calmly shaking her head and adjusting her tone. "No, Clint. It's fine. I can do this. We've gone too far to give up now."

Time to grow up.

"Y/N, I'm sorry, this is going to bother me the whole night. Tony, I walked in on—"

"No!" Peter cried.

"Clint, I swear to God, you say one more fucking word I will throttle you! I. Will. Kill. You."

"Language!" Tony hissed. He looked skeptically between his three team mates, a muddled look in his whiskey brown eyes. "What the hell is going on?"

Clint was squirming in his seat like a five year old just desperate to tattle on Y/N and Peter. He kept fidgeting with his hands, making silent conversation with Y/N through mouthed words and violent hand gestures.

"I will kill you. Hold off for now. Do it later."

"Do what later?" Tony was starting to get antsy. "Someone tell me what the hell is going on."

"Nothing!" The three chanted in sync.

Tony pursed his lips, rolling his eyes before settling back into his seat. "Whatever. You guys are children. Ridiculous children. I'm gonna' bitch about this moment to you later during the drive home, FYI."

"You did not just say 'FYI' like that," Y/N winced. "You sound like a total dad when you do that. Soon enough, you're going to start saying 'LOL' out loud to fit in with the cool kids."

"You're very snappy tonight, little miss. You're lucky I don't hate you, otherwise I'd be yapping your ear off like a Chihuahua about how much your getting on my last nerve."

"I'm getting on your last nerve? Are you joking? Tony, I've pretty much had it up to here with you," she used her hand to show how fed up she was with him by furiously shoving it high into the air, "and the night has barely begun! You're practically throwing me into a fucking war zone to die! Give me a break!"

"Y/N, it was a joke! Jesus, kiddo!" Tony argued. "Remind me to never get on your bad side."

Y/N thought she could hear her own heart loudly thumping against her chest. She could certainly feel it too. There was a giant lump in her throat, limiting the accuracy of her breathing, trembling, shallow breathes puffing past her lips. She slumped against the corner of the car, her arms wrapped around her body as if to protect herself from the cruel world. Slowly, she sank into a silent panic attack, shutting her eyes to hide herself from the people in the car.

"Y/N?" she noticed Tony's voice, but this time isn't wasn't dripping with sarcasm or aflame with a fiery remark. It was soft and soothing, full of uncommon sincerity. "You've gotta' stop thinking so much. All you're doing is freaking yourself out. You have five of us in there with you. Five. They'll have eyes on you the whole time, they're going to keep you safe. Nothing bad is going to happen."

Y/N used the pad of her thumb to blot away a tear that managed to appear on her waterline. She didn't want to ruin her makeup—another reason why she hated wearing it so much. Tears were bound to happen eventually, and she did not want to be walking around with mascara tracks stained onto her cheeks. She drew out a shaky breath, then swallowed her fear.

"Yeah," she replied. "That's what they all say right before something bad happens. I don't want to talk about this anymore. Let's just get it done."

"Sounds good, Hermione," Clint sighed.

Y/N grinned.

Eventually, the car pulled up to the front of the location. The gala was located at an art museum in the center of the city, which Y/N found to be quite the glamorous place for such a luxurious party. She noticed all the women entering through the entrance wearing long, elegant gowns with their handsome dates locked like a chain around their arm. The jewelry was flashy and the cameras were clicking. She could hear conversation carrying fluently across the sea of expensive color rolling in through the grand front doors.

"Good luck, Y/N. You got this kid. And you look like a million bucks," Tony turned around in his seat to face her. "Also, no making out with Parker. At least, not during the mission. I don't care what you do afterwards. Make sure your comms are on."

"Love you," she said quickly, not even thinking before the words came flying out of her mouth. Subconsciously, she supposed it was a good time to say it, seeing as there were a million different ways—good or bad—that this thing could go. She didn't want to take any chances.

Her hand found Peter's as he escorted her from the car, and immediately the folding red hot waves of anxiety succumbed to the tenderness of his touch. Y/N let out a long breath, collecting herself before forcing the fakest smile onto her painted features. She wanted to apologize to Peter for how clammy her hands were, but he didn't seem to care in the slightest. With ease, he extended his elbow towards her, and she took it graciously.

"You okay?" Peter asked. Y/N hadn't even realized they were already up the whole flight of steps.

"Yeah, just flustered. I can do this, right?" Y/N whispered, breathing in how attractive he looked in his suit. She wondered if they looked good together from afar.

Peter smiled daintily, brushing a messy strand of hair from her eyes. "Definitely."

She flashed her friend a dimpled grin before lacing her fingers with his. They poured into the museum, the hum of classical music instantly filling her ears, drowning out the harsh clamor of perturbation. She heard the steady taps of high heels rapping against the sleek marble tiles, men's shoes clicking aimlessly as they trailed behind their dates or danced with them enthusiastically. Chatter hovered at an even pace throughout the tall halls, wine glasses clinking together in an epiphany of joy and gathering.

Y/N glanced up towards the massive crystal chandelier dangling from the sky like a star. A large mural painted the ceiling with reds, blue, beiges and greens. The colors seemed infinite. Art littered the walls, surrounded by engraved golden frames. The place was absolutely stunning—it reminded Y/N somewhat of a building she'd see in France or Greece. God, how she wished she could see those wondrous places.

"Wow!" she gasped, absorbing the view for all its worth.

Peter shared a similar awestrucken expression as his date. "I see Natasha and Clint. Wanda and Steve should show up by the bar any second now."

Y/N nodded, ignoring the brisk stares from adults silently commending her dress. She made the smile on her face relaxed, trying to keep her appearance more inviting by standing up straight and keeping her brows subtly lifted.

"Testing, testing. Ground control to Major Tom. This is Tony Stark—AKA Iron Bitch. Do you copy?"

"Oh, my God. Stark. Shut the fuck up," Clint groaned.

"Affirmative."

Y/N giggled, Tony's ridiculous commentary settling her nerves and making the situation appear less frightening than it initially seemed.

After everyone checked to make sure their comms were working, the plan was in motion.

Peter stuck out his hand, blinking nervously. "Uh, wanna' dance? I-I mean, we kind of have to, but . . ."

"Spider-ling shoots his shot aaaaannndd . . . he fails. Quite dramatically. Better luck next time, pal."

Y/N bit down on her lip, repressing a cheeky smile. She graciously accepted his hand, entwining their fingers together. A gleeful chuckle flew from her lips and Peter felt relaxed by here sincere reaction, escorting her to the dance floor.

"Fair warning, I-I don't really know how," Y/N warned.

"It's okay. Me neither. We can just follow what everyone else is doing and hope they don't judge us."

She extended her arms, trying to follow what the other adults in the room were doing. She clasped her hand onto his shoulder then threaded her other soft, manicured hand with his, moving their arms outwards away from their bodies. His available hand looped around the girl's waist, lying firmly against her back. He pulled her closer, their bodies pressed together. Y/N could feel his breath on her lips, her heels providing enough height for her to be eye-to-eye level with him.

"I kind of want to kiss you right now, but Tony's in my ear and that just makes me feel dirty," Y/N said, staring at his lips, annoyed that she couldn't close the agonizing gap between their faces.

"I don't know whether to feel relieved or uncomfortable."

"Wait, are they kissing? Should they be doing that?" Definitely Steve.

"Ha! I walked in on them kissing in Peter's room." Clint. The rat.

"Way to keep a secret, Clint. I'm never telling you anything anymore!" Y/N hissed under her breath.

"Sorry, Mr. Stark!"

"I'm sorry, they what in Peter's what? I'm offended I didn't know that. Is that the secret you three gremlins were fighting about in the car? It definitely was. I don't care. I want the details. How was it?"

"Y/N made a vow to not fall in love with Peter, and she broke it barely thirty minutes in."

"You made a vow to not fall in love with me?"

"I thought she broke that vow like a month ago!" Steve felt confused. "Or was that a different one?"

"That was the one where she vowed off chocolate milk."

"Ohhh," he understood. "I remember that."

"Yeah, you're an old man so you wouldn't remember those kinds of things, Steven."

"What?! Everyone shut up! Focus on the mission, stop talking! You're stressing me out!" Y/N muttered, her tone thick with irritation.

"Yikes, I feel like I'm listening to a soap opera."

The conversation finally died down, and Y/N just wanted to curl up beside Peter and take a long nap. Her exhaustion was nearly enough for her to ask to call of the mission, but she decided that was rather a ridiculous reason.

Y/N slid her arm around Peter's neck, resting her chin on his shoulder. His arm tightened around her waist, large palms resting flat against her bare back. Her skin was cold against the pads of his fingers. He felt electrified by her. The scent of vanilla soon wafted towards his nose, and he closed his eyes, their hands still absentmindedly entwined, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

For a moment it felt like they weren't on mission. It was just Y/N and Peter, swaying away in the middle of a ball room, bodies pressed together, undoubtedly young and in love, unbeknownst to it. It felt like they were normal—like Y/N didn't have powers and Peter wasn't enhanced. They weren't Avengers or superheroes. They weren't challenged by the everyday horrors of the real world. They were just stupid teenagers with a lot on their plate and diverging paths, with broken vows and shimmering promises.

Reluctantly, Y/N opened her eyes, settling back into reality, removing her hand from Peter's and placing it smoothly onto his shoulder. He snaked his hand down towards her waist until his arms locked around her. Peter started to scope out the area out behind her, attempting to identify Axel Klein in the crowd. Y/N's eyes skimmed past anonymous faces until finally they did a complete rotation around the entirety of the room, her eyes recognizing the blonde haired boy meandering through the hefty crowd with a glass of champagne.

"I've got eyes on the subject," she mumbled, taking one last moment to press her mouth against Peter's shoulder. She inhaled the scent of his cologne, closing her eyes to bask in it.

"Go for it, Y/N. Your time to shine."

Y/N felt the anxiety slowly creep back, but she couldn't turn back now. She was brave. She could do this.

"I loved dancing with you, Peter Parker," Y/N always loved to say his full name. It rolled so pleasingly off the tongue, by now it was a habit. "Please tell me I'm not going to fuck this up."

Peter half-smiled at the girl, rubbing her shoulder gently. "You're not going to fuck this up. And I liked dancing with you, too."

"Ugh, cringe . . . Sorry, did I say that out loud? I would say just kiss already, but that would blow the whole operation. So Parker, kindly stop staring at Y/N's lips, please and thank you. Good luck, kiddo."

Y/N started to walk, but she couldn't leave yet. She didn't want to leave Peter. She already felt alone without his hands caressing her back like she was the most important thing in the world to him. She turned around to face her friend, eyes practically pleading with him not to let her go.

Peter himself had no clue how he felt. His heart was racing, his palms were sweaty. He felt like he would pass out at any given moment. All he wanted to do was protect Y/N, but he knew deep down that she needed to do this. Something inside of him stirred at the horrific thought of this being their final interaction together. He wanted to be with her forever. He would love to be with her forever.

"I-is Axel looking?" she asked, pressing her lips into a thin line.

"W-what? No? He's uh, he's turned around talking to some man."

"Good," Y/N breathed, lurching forward to grab his face. She pressed a quick kiss against his lips, basking in the moment as short lived as it was. Her thumbs laid gently on his cheekbones, as if Peter himself was the most delicate, precious thing in the world to him. She wanted just one more memory of Peter Parker, just one last part of him to hold onto. She just wanted to taste him one last time.

"Oh! Shit! She shoots! She scores!"

Muted colors rained down upon them from the mural painting the sky, violins humming softly in the distance, the deep groan of a cello bouncing like an echo off the walls. The kiss was short but more passionate than the first. It said everything that needed to be said without the interruption of unnecessary words threaded together into unnecessary sentences. It was everything all wrapped up into one pretty, defective bow.

"Thanks for the dance," she whispered, turning around quickly, not taking the chance to see the look on his face. She was afraid if she did she would never leave him.

"Woah. That was . . . pretty intense." Clint took a long sip of his drink.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Hormones."

"Is it just me or am I feeling way too many emotions? I'm literally drowning in teen angst. This is horrible, I feel like I'm in high school all over again," Tony added, sinking back into the seat of his car, the laptop balanced on his lap.

Y/N casually walked through the crowd, fixated on getting Axel's attention. An idea burned bright in her mind, a smirk growing confidently onto her red lips.

She strutted over in his direction, keeping her shoulders back and chin high. Just out of the corner of her eye she could see Steve and Wanda watching intensely.

Once when you're in the car. Twice in the house. Three times in case of an emergency. Three times in case of a code red. Once. Twice. Thrice.

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