#avengers tower au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

foxgloveprincess · 2 years

Text

Seem Like Someone Else

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff x GN!Shapeshifter Reader [First Person Narrator]

Word Count: 3,060

Summary: Pain has been the only thing you’ve felt for so long. Until Bucky and Natasha teach you to feel something different.

Warnings: Emotionally Constipated Reader, Plus-Size Reader, Body Horror (shapeshifting that backfires—disfigurement, no blood, inability to talk, pain), Undefined/Poorly Defined Relationship, Mentions of Abusive/Traumatic Past, Inconsiderate Behavior, Pet Names (sweetheart). Minors do not interact (18+).

A/N: This just sorta started spilling out of me one day while I was eating breakfast. Based on quite a few uQuizzes I’ve taken which have told me I change myself for other people. It’s an experiment in a way. And I don’t really know how to define it. All I know is that I want to share it with all of you. Bucky edit in the banner by nixakimbo (on Instagram). The picture in the banner is not indicative of the reader’s skin color (there is no description of appearance in the fic, except to allude to plus size).

I love feedback, so go ahead and reblog/comment if you want. No permission given to copy, translate, rewrite or post my work, at all. I cross-post to my own AO3 account.

I don’t do tag lists, so follow @foxglovefics to sign up for notifications on my fics.

This is not Beta’d, so all mistakes are my own.

Please DO NOT click ‘Keep Reading’ if you are not 18+ years of age or if you are uncomfortable with the pairing themes/dynamics/warnings, thank you!

I go through about 25 transformations a day. Comes with the territory of being a shapeshifter. But it’s bled into my personality, too. Changing the smallest aspects of myself in everyday interactions, hoping to smooth the conversations into something palatable for whoever I’m talking to.

Sometimes I wonder if the face I return to at the end of the day is really even my face at all—if the person I am is truly myself.

It’s stopped being a strain—practically organic at this point. Just like the shifting of bones, cartilage, and flesh to form me into a different look. Easy as breathing.

The transformations used to hurt. I remember that. When it started in middle school, I would scream out in my room at night when my flesh turned against me and morphed me into some other person. Lady B always cradled me to her chest and hummed a solemn tune until I calmed and made the painful transition back to myself.

Now I change like water flowing from the pitcher to the glass. Know the exact angles. Contorting myself until the change mutes to a small pop. No longer a cacophony of crackles and popping joints. I’ve perfected the art form, transforming in a singular moment from one person to the next.

For most people, it’s a party trick. Entertainment. For my job, it’s a clever evolution of espionage. It’s helped me go far, climbing my way into the Avengers organization and solidifying my skills as indispensable. A way I can support and protect myself. Not everyone accepts a freak in their neighborhoods.

“Make me into a woman,” Tony requests, lounging back on his sofa with a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand.

Like I said, entertainment.

My body bends and twists—rather, the body I’m wearing—until I picture it clearly in my head. Tony Stark, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, woman. A deep breath fills my lungs and—Pop!

It takes a moment to orient myself before my audience. Party goers still milling about the Tower, lingering until the very last moment. I breathe once, ensuring the use of lungs in my body and the beat of my heart—learning from experience to never underestimate the importance of internal organs.

But there I am, Tony Stark’s spitting image in female form.

I wait for the next request as comments circle about the voyeurs. Words of intrigue and disbelief whispered from ear to ear. I can’t let them know I’m tired. Most missions do not exhaust me as much as this. Face after face for people to peer at and dissect. I touch my nose, drawing back my hand to check for blood—none yet, a good sign.

“That’s enough,” a voice calls out. “Leave them alone.”

Turning over my shoulder, Bucky glares at the group surrounding me. Perched on the sofa with Natasha at his side, they make the most threatening couple in the room. Lovely, by all means, but deadly—like twining sprigs of belladonna.

“Come here,” Natasha beckons from her place under her partner’s arm. She gestures to an empty seat beside them.

Unable to resist the call, I follow and sit. My favorite drink sits upon a coaster, ready and waiting. Though I refuse to let surprise color my expression.

The group disperses, off to look for the next spectacle. I sigh in relief and let my body sink into the cushions, cells buzzing from exertion.

“You were at your limit,” Bucky comments, a hint of disappointment in his tone, “you should have told them to fuck off.”

“I know my limit,” I reply, releasing the tension keeping me in Tony’s face. No longer intent on performance, I let my body shift in gradual motions. My bones clicking back into place, figure softening and rounding, until I sit before them as myself.

“You’re not here for their amusement,” Bucky insists, fists clenching together as he leans toward me. “Why do you let them do that to you?”

“Why not?” I answer, tilting my head to the side. “They like it.”

“But do you?” Natasha gazes at me with her piercing green eyes.

And I cannot meet them. Because I know the answer, so does she. It doesn’t need to be said, but to meet her gaze would be to admit it.

“You don’t need to—”

“I know,” I interrupt, face scrunching at the force of my statement.

They say no more on the subject, keeping me company throughout the rest of the evening. Their presence surrounding me in a protective barrier that no one dare penetrate. Even when curious gazes drift in my direction, the assassins at my side dissuade them of any notions to approach.

“Thank you,” I relent when the party comes to its full close, the remaining attendees escorted out of the building. “It was nice to be myself for most of the night, as disappointing as it may be.”

“Who said you were disappointing?” Natasha asks, her fingers tipping my chin down to see her curious expression.

My shoulders shrug and I step away from her touch. “Thanks again, anyway.” A hasty retreat proves wise as final rounds of farewell take place, whispers following after me toward the elevator.

“You know,” Natasha says a few weeks later, approaching me at the table while I eat my lunch, “it’s in our blood.”

At the cryptic comment, I raise a brow, pausing with my sandwich halfway to my lips.

“They forced it into us so hard that we can hardly tell how long it’s been there, melding with us, shaping us.” She sits across from me, arms folded on the wooden tabletop and leaning closer to me. “That involuntary notion to always fit. To break yourself a thousand different ways until you can be whoever they want you to be.”

I swallow and push away my plate, no longer feeling the pang of hunger when my stomach turns. “Why are you saying this?” My mouth dries, bile climbing up my throat.

“Because I see you,” she replies, simple as that. As if there can’t be any other explanation in the world. Her hand reaches out to my arm, squeezing the flesh in a comforting grip. “I know what it’s like.”

My eyes meet hers, emotion swelling deep within me and threatening tears. I grit my teeth, fighting against them to say, “What difference does that make?”

“Maybe not a big one. We’re spies, it’s what we do,” she says with a shrug, hand still resting on my arm. “But it doesn’t mean it’s who we have to be.” She pats my arm, standing from the seat. She steps closer, standing over me until I look up. “Or that we have to be alone.”

She walks off and I watch her leave. Each step she takes flaming the desire to rush after her and feel whatever it was that she inspired within me. That swelling rush of clarity that struck me at her concern. Something that felt strikingly like peace.

Bucky doesn’t approach me as directly. He doesn’t say as much either. He simply finds me after a mission one day and hands me a bottle of my favorite juice. No comments or inquiries about how the mission went. Scaring off anyone who even thinks to approach.

He stays nearby—not hovering, but close and quiet, like a shadow.

He sits beside me while I write up my report. Trying to recall every detail of the mission. Every face I had to don and how many files I was able to copy and scrub. And he doesn’t leave until I drift asleep on my couch, watching my favorite movie and wrapped in a warm blanket.

The next morning, I wake to him preparing me breakfast in my kitchen. Surprise doesn’t cover the jolt that spikes through my blood, body changing on instinct for an attack.

“Hey,” he says, turning with his hands held up in placation, “you’re alright. I’m not here to hurt you.”

“Then why are you here?” I ask, incredulous at his presence. Surely Natasha would need him more. Or at least expect him so early in the morning.

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

My mouth gapes open, his reasons incomprehensible. Am I some sort of pet project to them? Another amusement to occupy their time? A new way to treat the freak, to toy with me until I’m left shattered by their true intentions.

“You need to leave,” I utter, not understanding the words I say until they’re already hanging in the air between us. “Now.”

Bucky’s brow pinches in concern. He walks forward, skirting around my table and reaches out. I step back.

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” he confesses, fidgeting with his metal arm and pulling his sleeve over the vibranium.

“I’m always alone,” I reply with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

He doesn’t move a muscle, staring at me.

Shoulders tense, that nigh impossible to sense strain on my cells plucks in discomfort. Still wearing someone else’s face, then. Casting a glance to the mirror across the room, I swallow hard. Never worn a team member’s face before—especially not one like Natasha’s. Entranced by her features, I can’t bear to look away for a moment, wondering what it’s like to live in this skin. Everyday, a masterpiece. Fingers touch her cheek, feeling the softness and bone structure beneath.

“Friday?” Bucky calls out, the A.I. replying immediately. “Could you get Natasha in here, please?”

“No,” I cough in alarm, mind unfocused and flickering with images of people. Only one misplaced thought and—Pop!

It takes a moment to realize that the voice screaming in agony is my own. Body an indiscernible monstrosity of misshapen limbs and skin. I choke on air, ill-formed inside as I am out.

“Shit, sweetheart,” Bucky curses, hands hovering over this body I’ve created. “You gotta calm down, shift back.”

A gurgle is the only reply this throat can make, pain lancing through each cell of my being. Yet tears still form in my eyes, dripping down contorted cheeks, hands unable to wipe them away. So much pain, it blinds and burns. Legs unable to collapse from the intensity of it all, the bones fused at awkward angles and supporting me with nothing more than the inability to bend.

“What happened?” Natasha exclaims, rushing into the room in a panic.

Bucky explains, hands raking through his long hair, pulling at the strands, fear rolling off him in waves. “What do we do?” he asks, looking between the two of us.

Natasha says my name softly, approaching on cautious feet. “Can you shift back?”

An almost imperceptible shake moves my head back and forth, unsure I can focus on anything with this pain consuming every thought.

Her eyes dart around the room, getting closer and closer. Inhaling deeply, she begins to hum a song. Familiar and melancholy. Her arms wrap around me—as best they can with the disfigurement of my body. Her hands stroke over my twisted spine, a tilt of her head beckoning Bucky to join us.

His warmth ensconces me from behind, surrounding me. My eyes close, fighting back against the onslaught of pain and concentrating. The tension releases slowly, organs shifting and reforming properly before my bones crack and I collapse for the rest of the transformation.

A gasp punches from my chest, body flooded with endorphins.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asks, kneeling beside me and wiping the sweat from my brow.

I nod, delirious.

Natasha settles beside her partner, resting a hand on his shoulder. They both look to each other, concern flashing in their eyes. They begin to rise, a slow trepidatious movement.

“Stay,” I whimper, reaching blindly to clutch at their legs, “Please.”

“Of course,” Bucky soothes, the tension in the air easing. He bends low and with the gentlest touch he can manage, lifts me from the floor. “We’re not leaving you.”

It happens on the next mission. My arm taking a life of its own. Refusing to turn back to my true form once the quinjet takes off from its landing pad. I stare at the foreign limb—veiny and grizzled. The tension of my transformation melts away. But it does not leave.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha asks, taking the seat beside me.

Without words to convey my confusion, I raise the unfamiliar digits of this hand for her to see. She takes it in her own, the touch light and careful.

“How do we fix this?”

“Lady B used to break it when I was younger,” I reply with a furrowed brow. “Something about the pain kickstarted the transformation back.”

“We’re not doing that,” she refuses, sitting back but keeping my hand in hers. “We’ll figure out another way.”

But nothing comes to mind on the journey back to the Tower. I’m left with the strange limb as I grab my gear and exit the jet, disturbed by this turn of events. My feet tread a curious path, seeking the one person I can think of to help.

“Bucky,” I greet, hiding my arm behind me.

He smiles, standing from the couch and setting aside a thick book scrawled with some foreign language along the spine.

Still in my combat suit and not in the slightest prepared to change until my body gets back to normal—or at least the same figure all over—my attention settles upon the place where his metal arm should hang. It’s missing.

He fidgets under my scrutiny, reaching up to his shoulder as if trying to conceal the sight of his empty sleeve. A faint thought tickles at the back of my mind, but I shake it away. No time for innocuous matters.

“I need you to break my arm,” I announce, meeting his eye. “Please.”

His veneer cracks at my nonchalance, smile dropping from his lips. “Come again?”

I sigh, bringing the unsightly limb out from behind my back. “It won’t turn back.” The fist clenches. “I need you to break it, so I can make it.”

Bucky’s lips open, wide eyes shining in confusion and the barest hint of betrayal. But I can think of no other way and—

“He’s not doing that,” Natasha bites from behind, shouldering past to wrap her arms around her partner and peck a kiss to his lips before turning back to me. “Why would you suggest something like that? After everything?” Hurt shines in her eyes, too, and I swallow around the lump that forms in my throat.

We stand in silence for a long moment. I know the reason why I’m asking him. Why I told her on the jet. Why I’m coming to them out of every person inhabiting the Tower.

“I trust you more than anyone,” I reply in a wavering whisper. “There’s no one else.” My eyes squeeze shut, head turning away at the confession. Vulnerability more foreign and unsettling than the limb that refuses to reform to my true shape.

A soft sound of realization echoes from the pair. They stand still for a moment before approaching on wary, hopeful steps.

It takes all night, but we find another way.

“You’re certainly quiet tonight,” Tony says, sidling up beside me and nudging his elbow into my side. “Don’t want to be center spotlight?”

“No,” I reply. A sip of my drink burns and tickles at the back of my throat. Scanning the crowd, I turn away from the man, but he’s not done with me quite yet.

“Your besties not here yet?” he asks, leaning a smidge too far into my personal space.

I sigh and move away, hoping he’ll get the hint. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Another sip burns, but satisfies the ire bubbling in my belly. Keeping it from climbing up my throat.

He hums and drinks from his own glass, stepping aside to give me some space. His brow quirks, examining me like a specimen in a petrie dish. A sensation to which I’ve grown accustomed—with my upbringing and all.

At least his eyes don’t sparkle with the expectation for amusement tonight, like I’m the main attraction.

“Can I help you with something?” I inquire with the tilt of my head.

“Maybe,” he says, smacking his lips. “I’ve been trying to puzzle it out, but can’t quite get the big picture.”

My teeth clench, jaw ticking, waiting for the deep dive into my past that always seems to come hand-in-hand with a scientific mind like his.

“Are you, Nat, and Bucky a thing?” He sets his empty glass down and gestures to me. “And if you are, what kind of thing are you?”

I remain silent, taken aback by his thought, but unable to answer. I couldn’t define it if given the chance. Natasha and Bucky might be able to, though. Yet none of it reveals itself upon my face, a mask of indifference holding strong.

“She’s our partner,” Bucky responds walking up with Natasha on his arm. Looking as elegant and deadly as they are.

“Partner?” Tony looks between the couple and I, running a hand over his mouth.

“Yes,” Natasha replies.

The billionaire keeps looking, as if the truth will reveal itself without another word spoken. But in the end, he asks, “Romantic or vocational?”

“Yes,” she purrs, wrapping her arm through mine and leading me away without another glance back. When the temptation to gauge Tony’s reaction creeps up my spine, she senses it and soothes, “Don’t worry about him.” Her path guides us over toward a bench and sits us down, taking her place to my side and setting the super soldier on my other. “He means well, but always tries to place labels on things he doesn’t understand.”

Bucky’s fingers weave through mine on the bench, pressing his warm palm to my knuckles. Distracting me from Natasha.

“You look lovely,” he whispers in my ear.

“Perfect, even,” Natasha adds, resting her head on my shoulder. Though I don’t know how she hears him.

I don’t question it. Don’t need to. It just makes sense. In this loud and chaotic world, where everyone tries to drag me in every direction, where I must reform myself again and again for the pleasure of others, where they ask only for me—they just make sense.

And I feel at peace.

#bucky barnes x natasha romanoff x reader #gender neutral reader #shapeshifter reader #avengers tower au #body horror #tw body horror #experimental fanfic #18+#minors dni

62 notes · View notes

vbecker10 · 11 days

Text

@soubi001 sent me something on tiktok and I thought it sounded like something Loki might say lol so here it is (I added a screenshot from the tiktok below if tie curious what it was originally)

I also remembered there was a meme from a while back that kinda fit here so...

Tony Stark showing the team around the upgraded pantry after renovations were made to the Tower

Loki: I think that is a bit misleading

Tony: What are you talking about?

Loki: This note, a small family... Is that parents and one child or two? Are the children still young? There is no way four bodies would fit in here

Bruce: What?!

Tony: No, no, no... this is not for bodies!

Natasha: I was thinking the same thing actually

Tony: It's for a small family to store their food!

Loki: Hmm... still seems an odd note

Tony: Can we just move on?

Bruce: Yes please

Walks from the pantry into the kitchen and points out the new appliances

Tony: ... and the new garbage disposal is rated for bones

Loki: What kind? I assure you there is a big difference between a finger and a femur

Tony:...

Clint: I think he means chicken

Loki: Oh, that makes much more sense

Tony and the rest of the team take a small step away from Loki

Loki: This is one of those "there are two types of people" situations I've heard of

Thor: Yes...

Loki: Perhaps I should keep my thoughts to myself for the remainder of the tour?

Tony: Please do

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki

141 notes · View notes

newtdrawz · 12 days

Text

My fav thing to do ever is when a TV show/movie/book are really fast passed and like really serious/dramatic and have a found family is to like think abt them doing regular stuff 😭

Like ya ykw I WILL picture Sam and Cas having a day spent at the local grocery store because Dean's out on a hunt so it's up to them to get their groceries and it just gets really silly

And I'm so glad I'm not the only one cuz I'll see a really serious post/a deep dive of a characters trauma and then right after it is a post abt like "what if they had a garden :) and made bread? :)" like you're so right they DO have a garden and make bread

I LOOOVEEEEE thinking abt THE CHARACTER doing mundane things and going out and running errands

Fix it fics are one of my favs can you tell? 😭

(And also ik this is NOT an original thought I just needed a reason to share my 'Sam and Cas go to the grocery store' thing cuz I think it would be fun lol)

#newt shut up challenge #newtcore #fandom #fix it fic #au #spn #supernatural #castiel #sam winchester #any character #really #you know what #throw the Avengers in there #i am #number 1 fan #of the 'all the Avengers live together in the tower and have movie nights' trope #found family

23 notes · View notes

worstloki · 6 months

Text

Tony: I really don't like this whole ‘good guy, bad guy’ routine you guys have going on. Creeps me out. Thor: It is not an act. I am loud and Loki is not Tony: Not in my experience

#Tony having bad memories and the whole trauma bundle about everyone being attacked by a greater force #is actually SO funny when combined with Loki staying at the tower AUs I think #like bro Loki absolutely IS someone who contributed to this trauma #and it's even funnier if you consider that Loki reverting to Normal Behaviour while Thor stays himself is just #such a throw off compared to what the Avengers witnessed at first contact #like yeah Thor can be a polite puppy. he usually isn't tho like you have to understand that #Loki doing his best Thor bloodlust impression for the invasion and then going back to being normal flavoured with some severe angst issues #peak comedy #Loki would lay on the floor for 14 hours feeling numb about life and Thor would boldly declare table manners useless and put his feet up

48 notes · View notes

ungrateful-sneeze · 9 months

Text

Currently working on an Percy Jackson au

This is Tony Starks story:

Tony- (age arrived at camp:10)

He is a Son of Hephaestus (ha get cheated on Howard)

He is also a legacy of Aphrodite so has slight charm speak

Lived with his god father obi who ran Stark Industries after his parents died.

Was kidnapped for ransom but obi didn’t care and didn’t pay.

After realising they weren’t going to get paid, the terrorists ended up putting tony to work helping them make weapons.

After 3 months he managed to escape in a suit he made after a chimera found him and broke into the place he was being held causing a distraction.

After escaping and killing the chimera he is rescued by a grumpy old saytr who has been put on demi god duty after causing damage at camp.

Tony calls him Happy as a joke at how grumpy he is at being put on demigod duty.

Happy starts feeling fond for Tony (after learning about Tony’s shitty life) and looks after him even when he’s already at camp so people jokingly call him Tony’s body guard.

One of his quest resulted him having to rescue his childhood friend Rhodey (who can see through the mist) from some monsters who were attacking the military base he was training at.

Rhodey ended up becoming the oracle but after seeing how miserable and hurt his friend was doing this job, Tony managed to trap the oracle in something he called an arc reactor which was in a robot called Jarvis who could read out the prophecies and quests instead of Rhodey.

Jarvis was later replaced by Friday.

Rhodey ended up staying at camp after Tony made him his own weaponised armour and he helped them win many battles, earning him the title of ‘War Machine’ from monsters and demigods alike.

He is currently age 18 and is dating a daughter of Athena, who he calls Pepper after learning she tried to pepper spray the saytr that tried to take her to camp.

Leave your thoughts below. I’ll post the other 5 avengers story’s if people want later

#the avengers #avengers tower #domestic avengers #avengers au #marvel au #tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #percy jackson au #percy jackson #avengers family #avengers fanfiction

36 notes · View notes

textsfromtheavengers · 2 years

Text

188 notes · View notes

cessmaga · 3 days

Text

guys I'm not obsessed I swear

maybe genshin x dc x marvel au thing I guess

18 notes · View notes

fanfic-collection · 10 months

Text

Imagine Loki, and you, getting locked in the same room for the night. Your friends, family, the Avengers, etc, have grown tired of your constant flirting bickering and want the pair of you to work something out.

#imagine Loki #I'm picturing an avengers tower 2012 au #tony sets the door to lock the two of you in

13 notes · View notes

cozy-the-overlord · 1 year

Text

There are too many avengers and i dont know what to do with them /lh

#i’m trying to write one of those post avengers 1 AU’s where they all live together in the tower #its just the original avengers #but there’s still too many characters #idk what to do with Nat and Steve 😂#writing things

13 notes · View notes

sid-posts · 7 months

Text

y’all ever have fandoms where the original canon is so unbelievable or forced-feeling that it starts to feel like an au of the fanon?

because i do.

#fandom #canon #fanon #anyways this is star wars and atla and so many others to me #marvel films feel like a hurt/no comfort au of those 2012 avengers tower fics where everyone gets along #maybe this is hyperspecific but you know what i mean #miraculous too #so many fandoms

1 note · View note

humofnight · 10 months

Text

tbh good Star Trek fusions/setting AUs are my lifeblood the way I am GIDDY rn finding one I MISSED and it’s SO GOOD

#I probably missed it bc 1) I phased out of stony in college with the advent of the Really Sad civil war #*civil war fics #I was v much a child (teen) of the Classic Avengers Tower fic post the first movie #and this is technically a comics AU #which. tbh. I think I like comics based fics better on avg nowadays #the insanity that is Steve and Tony make more sense against a decade of them being ride or die #vs the like. three years of being like. work friends of the movies #Afton hums #I’m having an avenger relapse lmao #the avengers crewing a starship while Steve STILL HAS THE SAME CAPTAIN AMERICA BACKSTORY #AND TONY HAS A POSTER OF 20TH CENTURY COMICS HERO CAPTAIN AMERICA IN HIS QUARTERS #is EXACTLY the kind of batshit energy I need from this fic tonight #holy shit this fusion is BRILLIANT what a great connection

1 note · View note

jadedvibes · 2 years

Text

Marked

Summary: Your secret relationship is nearly exposed when Natasha spots Bucky's neck covered in hickeys.

Pairing: Beefy!Bucky x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected rough sex, lots of hickeys, swearing, pet names, fluffy feels, very minor angst, protective natasha, avengers tower au, beefy!bucky (he needs a warning).

Word Count: 1.3k

Like, comment, and/or reblog to put a giant smile on my face ♡

“Hey babe, I’m really sorry,” Nat sat down beside you on the couch, looking at you with a sad smile.

You furrowed your brows, trying to process her words. What did she have to be sorry for?

“Um, why?”

“Because of you-know-who,” she subtly nodded her head towards Bucky chatting with Sam in the kitchen. He was laughing at something Sam had said, and despite the fact that he was wearing a hoodie, the hickeys on his neck were still visible. She knew you couldn’t miss those prominent love bites.

Nat was well aware of the giant crush you had on the dark-haired supersoldier, and she also thought that those feelings were requited. Bucky had seemed entirely enamored by you ever since you joined the team. She couldn’t believe he would do that, especially because everyone including him knew how you felt. You must have felt terrible about the whole situation.

“Oh,” biting your lip, you willed yourself not to react. Nat could read you like a book and you didn’t want her to know about the sordid details of this chapter. Not yet at least. “He’s a grown up, and he can do whatever he wants,” you stood up in haste, giving her a nod before walking back to your room.

She missed the wink Bucky shot you, and the way you smiled at the ground as you left.

Bucky assured you that the marks would heal fast, giving you free rein to do whatever you wanted to him. Unfortunately, it wasn’t fast enough.

“What the hell?” Nat muttered under her breath. She figured his actions must have hurt you so much that you couldn’t even properly react to it. Deciding to confront the man himself, she stormed into the kitchen, pulling out a chair and sitting next to Sam.

She glared at Bucky as he finished up his story, catching the eyes of both men. Sam exchanged a look with Bucky, neither having any idea why she was staring like that.

Bucky grinned at Nat cautiously, “What’s up?”

“She was literally in the room, and you couldn’t think to maybe pull your hood on, or wear a scarf?”

“Nat,” he tried to think of an explanation, but the truth wasn’t his to tell. You asked him not to. “It’s no big deal,” he lied.

His time with you was everything, and he couldn’t fight the flashback his brain had of you in his lap the night before sucking and biting his neck as you rode him. If only Nat could see the state of your chest and the marks that you had thanks to him, she’d know there were no hurt feelings.

Sam watched on, trying to keep his face neutral because he already knew about the two of you. He’d seen Bucky slip out of your room a few mornings ago, however he respected your privacy and kept your secret. Although, he had no problem teasing Bucky about it when you weren’t around.

“Live your life, but you could be more respectful of her feelings,” she said before standing up and leaving.

Bucky pursed his lips as he looked at Sam.

“Should’ve covered it up, man,” Sam smirked.

Nodding his head, “Yeah, for her sake.”

“What are you guys waiting for?”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I’m letting her set the pace, it’s up to her.”

┈┈┈┈┈・・

“Fuck, Bucky,” you cried out as his powerful hips snapped into you at a relentless pace. The sheer look of pleasure and determination on his face made you shudder as you watched him take you apart. Your legs wrapped around his waist, an impulse for more; to be closer, to be consumed.

Metal fingers began to circle your clit, making your body contract beneath him.

“Oh baby,” you whimpered. He fucked you like a god, a self-assured divine being.

Bucky smirked, “Do you like that?” His fingers continued their sweet torture as he took what he needed. With each fierce thrust he brought you closer, to your end, to his soul.

Unable to speak, you watched your perfect man lose himself inside of you.

It hit like lightning striking your body, electrifying every nerve with blissful euphoria. You threw your head back as you heard your pulse ring in your ears, wet walls squeezing tight around his cock.

Unable to think, simply feeling the sensory overload.

He groaned out your name as his hips stuttered erratically. Pushing impossibly deeper, he came hard. Shuddering his release, pumping himself empty inside his favorite place.

Collapsing on top of you, he kissed you softly before turning you on your side as he stayed nestled inside of you.

Dark blue eyes connected with yours, his thumb dusting over your bottom lip.

Tangling your hands into his hair, you pulled him closer, pressing your lips to his. Tongue sliding between his parted lips, chest pressed against his, close.

This was where you were supposed to be.

Bucky pulled back and playfully started peppering your face with kisses. Down your jawline, all over your cheeks, on your nose, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling.

“Bucky!” you tried to grab his face. But he wouldn’t relent, gripping the back of your neck, kissing you until you were squealing in laughter.

He loved that sound, he adored seeing you so happy. How Nat could ever think that he’d go for any other girl was not something he could comprehend. Bucky only had eyes for you.

“Doll,” he kissed your lips before letting you catch your breath. He couldn’t wait any longer, he had to know. “What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” you whispered.

“Why are we hiding this?”

You sighed. “Because I want this to be our thing for a while longer, we’re having fun aren’t we?” you grinned, not understanding his concern.

“Of course we are, but… this is more than just fun for me,” his eyes searched yours.

Oh this sweet, soft man.

“Then we’ll tell the team, we can tell anyone you want.”

“Really?” he beamed.

“Yes, really. It’s more for me too, I don’t want you to think for a moment that it isn’t. I didn’t want anyone casting doubts on us – but I’m sure about you, so it’s okay.”

“Thank you, I can only take so much mad-dogging from Nat,” he breathed a sigh of relief. Although, his true solace came from the knowledge that the feeling in his heart was reciprocated – he was damn well certain about you too.

“Right, because that’s your thing, isn’t it tough guy?” you teased. His penchant for staring often intimidated others, but you knew the kind-hearted man under the hard exterior.

Bucky narrowed his eyes, rolling you on top of him in one swift movement. His hardened length still inside of you told you that the time for talking had ended. Your hands fell onto his strong, broad chest as you held yourself up, ready to take him for a ride.

His fiery gaze landed on your breasts, the heat from his stare capable of scorching the earth. He ran his warm fingers over the fading marks he’d left from the night before, admiring them.

Desire flooded your body and when your eyes locked, an idea came to your mind. “Why don’t you bite my neck?” you raised an eyebrow.

He sat up, the offer one he wasn’t willing to pass. Bucky trailed his lips along your jaw, nibbling his way down until he whispered, “Only if you promise to bite me back,” he licked up your neck.

With a racing heart, you circled your hips before grinding down on him. “Deal.”

There was no point in concealing this connection that meant so much to the both of you. And as his teeth bit down on your skin, a rush of arousal ran through you. The sting of his possession, the way he felt so deep inside you; this was it.

The two of you would likely tell your friends the following day about your relationship – or they could just take a look at the matching marks on your necks that let them know exactly who you belonged to.

8K notes · View notes

risingmoonyue · 1 year

Text

Star Wars AU where the council time travels back to when Obi-Wan was still an itty-bitty baby initiate. Including, you know. Council Member Obi-Wan Kenobi. So they’re all in their younger bodies and talking with the current non-time traveling members of the council, and they’re like “hold on, we got one more coming in”

And in walks in like. Nine year old Initiate Obi-Wan, all chubby-cheeked with fluffy bright red hair, and giant blue eyes.

Just. Their faces, okay?

Now keep in mind I want the council to always be Up To Shenanigans. I’m talking like 2015 Avengers tower found family era fics okay, they’re one big family and Obi-Wan is now super officially The Baby and literally nothing he does will ever stop that again. And despite everything, every single council member is, at heart, incredibly petty in that special Jedi family way and are so ready to not be dealing with a war Right This Very Minute.

What I keep picturing is Baby-Wan wiggling his way into a chair, situating himself Very Regally, then clasping his hands in classic Negotiator style, then speaking up with the Most Serious Of Tiny Baby Voices as the main spokesperson on the Council Of Petty Time Travelers

I just want to see people not in the know

I want Jedi of all ages witnessing Jedi masters, councilmen and women, long lived and wisest of the Jedi, coming to the crèche to visit tiny lil Baby-Wan about his opinions on current events and how they should handle this treaty and also when are you free I want to test my soresu

I just think it’d be funny

3K notes · View notes

buckysugar · 11 months

Text

𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 | 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

au masterlist

reader has a bad dream and struggles to maintain a balance between her big self and her little self. it doesn't help that all she wants is bucky, the man she wishes to be her daddy.

note: this my first fic so please be kinds !! i hopes you likes n maybe i writes more in the futures? thankies for readings, i lubs you 🎀☁️🫶🏽💗

you were a lonely baby when bucky met you. you had your family, sure, but they weren't there for you in the way you needed them to be. you'd just had a fall out with your best friend and had began isolating yourself from everyone and everything

it wasn't until peter found you at school, crying on a park bench in the rain, that things started to change for you. that was a few months ago. under the false pretence of moving away for college, you left your family and joined peter at the avengers tower after three months.

everyone loved you the moment they met you. you were so kind, so quiet and well-mannered. just so doll-like that no one could pick a bone with you. they hadn't known you were a little, and they still didn't but they wouldn't be surprised to find out. they all protected you and cared for you like you were their own. of course, you felt very out of place considering how quickly everything had happened but they all reassured you that they enjoyed having you around more than you knew. and with peter by your side, things were okay.

the one person who was iffy about you at first was bucky. he was too scared to come close, to taint your innocence with his darkness. over time, he came to realize how similar the two of you were in different ways and he let his wall break down. he opened up to you in the slightest of ways, and so did you. your feelings of hurt and anxiety still resided in your heart, but the avengers made you feel like you finally had a home. especially bucky.

"y/n, peter, what are you still doing up?" tony asked as he barged into the boy's room.

"we're just studying for a test, mr. stark. there's a lot to cram," peter replied in a tired voice, running a hand through his hair as the only light in the room came from his laptop and the bright city outside his window.

"okay, well this isn't the time to be studying, it's 1am. go to sleep," tony looked at him sternly, ready to walk out. "tiny, you look tired. head to bed, alright?"

"y-yes, sir," you nodded softly, giving him a smile.

"goodnight, kiddos. get some rest."

peter huffed, slamming his laptop aggressively. this caused you to flinch from your seat on the bed, making him give you an apologetic smile.

"i didn't realize how late it was," he spoke quietly, moving your book out of your lap. "let's get some rest, bug."

"mkay," you shuffled under the covers and made room for him to come in beside you. peter turned on the night light he kept for you in these instances before sliding into bed, opening his mouth to say something when he noticed the pout on your face.

"what's wrong?"

"i don't have squiggles."

"i got you," he tried easing your worries, pulling you into his chest. "you're safe with me, now close your eyes y/n/n."

"thank you, petey. goodnight."

"stop! where's my bucky? where's my daddy? i want him!" you shouted at the man in front of you.

"he's not coming back for you. he's gone, you're all alone like you always have been."

"i wan' him back," you cried, looking around through the foggy crowd of people around you. you didn't know where you were or who you were talking to, but you felt so alone and unsafe.

"you're alone now, y/n. nobody's coming to find you. you're trapped."

you woke up to heavy breaths, jolting upwards as you forced yourself awake. you were shaking like a leaf, heart beating rapidly against your chest as you looked down at peter who was sleeping soundly.

"wan' bucky," you whispered through tears, clutching the blanket to your chest. you were feeling so little right now, so scared and vulnerable.

you didn't know what to do. you didn't want to go bother or disturb him. the man rarely ever slept, but what if this time he was? you couldn't do it. but staring at the clock that read 3:14am, you didn't know how much longer you could take it.

he always told you to come to him whenever you needed him. you never did for fear of wasting his precious time but surely he wouldn't mind, if he wasn't asleep at least. you took a deep breath, using the back of your hands to wipe away the stray tears you didn't know had fallen. you carefully hopped over peter's sleeping frame and quietly made your way out of his room.

the hall was dark, making you let out a quiet whimper. your fingers clawed at your neck as you took shallow breaths, wishing you were holding squiggles right now for comfort. he always knew how to cheer you up.

"miss. l/n, you appear to be in distress. shall i alert mr. barnes?" F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice boomed, causing you to jump out of your skin.

"n-no, no, no. F.R.I.D.A.Y, b-be quiet. you'll wake everyone ups," you whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

"i'm sorry, ms. l/n, it appears mr. barnes is already on his way."

"w-what?" your eyes widened, looking around as you heard heavy footsteps walking towards you.

your eyes cracked with tears as you couldn't see a thing, reminding you of your scary dream as a quiet sob made its way out of your mouth.

"hey, y/n/n, don't worry. you're okay, everything's okay, love," you heard the familiar voice.

"b-bucky, you here?" you asked the dark abyss, pulling your thumb into your mouth.

"hun, i'm right here. i'm walking towards you," bucky replied, not missing a beat. his voice didn't sound tired at all. in fact, he sounded more awake than ever.

as he reached you, he heard the little sounds coming from you and his heart ached. he carefully placed a hand on your shoulder, causing you to jump and cry.

"plum, it's just me—"

you quickly ran into his arms and he held your quivering frame tight to his chest. you didn't want to speak, not in the hall where anyone could find you. you wanted to go to his room and let everything out, tell him all your fears and get the reassurance you so dearly needed.

"shh, shh. you're okay, my love, you're alright. i'm right here, i'm not leaving," he comforted, lifting you into his arms and taking you to his bedroom.

he locked the door behind him and sat on the bed, running a soft hand down your back as your tears soaked the skin on his neck.

"what happened, bug? what's got you so worked up?" he asked quietly, pulling you out of his chest.

you made a sound of disapproval before shoving your head back into the crook of his neck, just needing to be close to him.

"okay, okay. that's okay you can stay there," he rocked you slowly. "but can you please be the good girl i know you are and tell me what's wrong?"

you hiccupped, nodding your head. "t-the.. the guy t-took me.. n.. n you was gone!"

you balled his shirt in your fist, sobbing so hard your chest began to hurt. "was— was all 'lones n he.. he saids you wasn't gonna come backs."

"aw, my love," it clicked that you had a bad dream, the hurt in your voice tugging at his heartstrings. "i'm right here, i promise you i'll always find you wherever you are."

"was s-so scareds d.. da.. mm," you shook your head and stopped, finally taking the moment to actually realize where you were. you were with bucky, you couldn't call him daddy. but you were safe, no one was going to take him away from you and he wasn't going to leave you.

"thought.. thought you were g-gones," your voice cracked at the memory. a string of snot clung to his shirt through your cries and you wanted to laugh but you couldn't.

he kissed the top of your head, deciding again to try to get you to peak out from your hiding spot. he cupped your face in his hands, observing your red and teary eyes. he wiped the tears away softly before kissing both your cheeks as you hiccupped again. your lips were plump from the crying, and he continued looking down to notice scratches on the skin of your collarbone.

he'd have to talk to you about that in the morning, but for now he needed to get you back to sleep.

"you need a tissue," he mumbled, reaching over to his bedside table and grabbing one. he placed it on your nose. "blow."

you listened like you always do, silent wetness still dripping from your cheeks but they were beginning to slow down. he through out the tissue after humming in satisfaction. his hands moved down to your neck, using his thumbs to rub soft circles under your ears as you sniffled. it felt good, really good. you closed your eyes, his touch being more than enough to bring you back down to earth.

"you feeling a little better, baby?"

"mhm," you nodded, wiping your face aggressively. "m sorry."

"no, no. don't ever be sorry. you're okay, my baby's alright. bucky's here, you'll never be alone, hm? it's all going to be okay," he pulled you back into his chest, cradling your head ever so gently.

"t-thank you, bubby."

he smiled at the nickname. "no thank you's. now, lets get the little one back to sleep, how does that sound?"

"sounds good," you whispered.

"good girl," he turned off the lamp by his bedside table and got himself into bed with you clinging to him like a koala bear.

he simply chuckled as you looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. he could feel your heart beating against his chest, it was still a bit quick but not as fast as it was before which was a good sign. no more words were spoken from you but he kept uttering words of reassurance until your breathing slowed. his delicate voice and the feeling of his hand tapping your side lulled you to sleep in no time.

#daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy!bucky #peter parker x little!reader #bucky barnes #daddy bucky #daddy bucky barnes #daddy!winter solder x little!reader #daddy!winter soldier #the spider kid's best friend au

1K notes · View notes

ichorai · 5 months

Text

airbag ; steve rogers.

track one of OK COMPUTER.

pairing ; steve rogers x reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.

words ; 4.3k

themes ; fluff, mild angst, kind of avengers tower au?

warnings / includes ; mentions/descriptions of injury, alcohol, lots of lovesick fluff, rest of avengers are mentioned, natasha and tony Meddling, reference to spider-man & sandman :)

main masterlist.

Steve considered himself a romantic of sorts. Call him old-fashioned, but he liked bringing you flowers, he liked taking you to the theater, and he liked walking you home—all the way up to your door and listening for the lock, so he knew you’d be safe in there.

It was only fitting how cliché it felt when he realized he was in love with you. Firework-igniting kisses and butterfly-filled tummies and face-splitting grins. Everything described in those movies you enjoyed watching—but so much more.

Steve Rogers wasn’t a man to waste time. After all—enough of that had been done while he was frozen in the ice. If he was going to start something, then he was most definitely going to go all the way and finish it, too.

Almost immediately after your first anniversary, he bought a ring. It was simple and classic, maybe a bit out of style but hey, you seemed to be into that. You were dating a century-year-old.

It was December then, soft snow lining the streets and piling upon naked tree branches. During the drive to the fancy restaurant he’d found (courtesy of Tony), there were children building snowmen and sledding down shallow hills. You smiled watching them, eyes rife with fond warmth, and Steve knew then that he had to do it. He had to propose to you tonight.

Inside, you wouldn’t stop telling him how underdressed you felt, but Steve reassured you by saying a simple, “You look perfect, I promise.”

And he wasn’t lying. You did look perfect to him.

Dinner consisted of several decadent courses, with the waiters serving platters the two of you could barely even pronounce. It was delicious, nonetheless, and the chef had even come by to shake the hand of the Captain America.

During the last course—a silken slice of chocolate cake for dessert—Steve slipped his hand into his suit’s pocket, the velvet box smooth beneath his fingers. He replayed the question over and over again in his head, rehearsed a million times prior to the dinner.

Will you marry me?

And just as he was about to pull the ring box out, another diner pushed his chair back just far enough to accidentally knock into a waiter passing by, holding a plate of spaghetti. Completely sauced, to top.

To Steve’s horror, the plate tipped, almost in slow motion, and fell with a wet, splattering noise all over your outfit. You’d let out a small yelp of surprise, the spaghetti was hot, but not enough to burn. Steve stood up a second too late, hand falling away from his pocket as he rounded the table and placed it on your shoulder, asking if you were okay.

“I’m okay,” you told him gently, reaching over to grab a few napkins at the center of your table.

You didn’t get mad, of course you didn’t—it was part of the reason Steve loved you so much—instead, you were kind and patient, reassuring the flustered waiter that it was alright. “Mistakes happen,” you said. Another waiter came by a few minutes later with a few damp cloths so you could wipe the rest of the spaghetti sauce off.

Needless to say, the chef insisted that the meal was on the house that night, much to Steve’s chagrin.

The drive back home smelled of marinara sauce and oregano, but the heavy weight in his chest at the failed proposal seemed to lighten when you joked about how the five course meal ended up being six.

Natasha knew about the ring. Steve wasn’t quite sure how—he’d never explicitly told her—but then again, he wasn’t surprised. Nat seemed to always just know things from the smallest of details. It was why she made such a brilliant spy.

“So,” she’d said once she stumbled across from Steve in the Avenger Tower’s lavish gym, a sly grin stretching over her lips, “when are you popping the question?”

There was a pause to his movements—the dumbbell he’d been curling hovered in the air, his muscles tensing. He thought about it for a little longer, considering asking her how she knew but—he seemed to sense that Natasha would wave it away with a laugh and a light, “A magician never reveals her secrets.”

Instead, he told the red-head, “I’m working on it.”

Natasha leaned against a treadmill, arms crossing over her chest. The smile on her face seemed to grow even wider. “Uh-huh. How long have you had the ring?”

Steve resumed doing his reps. The burn felt nice, even if it was only barely there. “Long enough.”

There was a soft tenderness to Natasha’s eyes, and she bumped a fist into his bicep. “Take Y/N hiking. Far away from the city, where it’s quiet.”

Again, Steve paused his exercise. Slow, he put the weights down, thinking over her words.

“That’s actually—that’s a good idea, Nat.”

“Of course it is.” There was a knowing glint in her eyes.

“Thanks, really. I just want things to be perfect.”

She dipped her head once, before climbing onto the treadmill. “Send pictures. I’ve got a bet going on—Clint would want proof.”

Steve spared her an amused roll of his eyes. With a wave and a hurried goodbye, Steve rushed out of the gym to take a quick shower. The weather app on his phone (that he took an embarrassingly long time to find) told him the skies were going to be clear that afternoon—perfect for hiking.

Maybe, hopefully, perfect for proposals.

Half an hour later, you were ready to go, too, bouncing on the balls of your feet excitedly.

“I packed us sandwiches.”

“Did you? Oh, great—thanks, honey. We could have them as an early dinner.” He rubbed your shoulder and nudged you into the car.

“I packed a bunch of snacks, too.”

Steve arched a brow. “Like?”

“Gummy worms, popcorn, chips, cookies. Oh, and Wanda actually made something for us, I’m not really sure what it is, but it smelled nice—”

Your words died away when Steve laughed, loud and chesty. Of course you’d pack just about the entire pantry. How you managed to stuff all of that into your travel backpack with room to spare was beyond him. You couldn’t help but break out into an infectious smile when he leaned forward to kiss you on the forehead.

The drive out of the city to the hiking trail was long, and you nearly dozed off if not for the road getting progressively bumpier the closer you got.

The sun was high in the sky by the time you arrived. You slipped out of the car with a pleased hum and stretched out your limbs, ready to get the hike over and done with. You might’ve been dating a superhuman, but you had no powers of your own. The pressure to keep up was something always in the back of your mind.

And that’s how the hike went—you were determined to stay on par with Steve, no matter how grueling the terrain became. Even when he suggested a break to have some of the many snacks you’d packed, you tossed him your bag and kept trekking on—you were worried that if you stopped, you would never get back up again.

Really, you shouldn’t have overexerted yourself this quickly—the two of you were barely halfway done with the trail. Your feet were starting to drag, and your pace grew staggered. Just as you turned around to face your boyfriend and ask for a breather, your foot caught on a tree root that poked up above the trail’s surface, and you stumbled forward.

Thankfully, Steve’s quick reflexes came in handy, and he darted forward to grab you before you could go rolling down the steep hills.

He tugged you close into his chest, not yet registering your wince of pain. “Are you okay? That was a close one!”

When you pulled away, you gingerly tried to test your wait on the foot, but quickly lifted it back up with a grimace. “Oh, God. I think I’ve rolled my ankle.”

Steve stiffened, glancing further up the trail. It was maybe another two hours, but that was only with two fully-functioning pairs of legs.

The proposal would have to wait another day, then.

He cupped your face, soft and gentle. “Wrap your arms around my neck from behind. I’ll carry you down to the car.”

“You sure, Stevie? I can try hopping down on one foot.” You tried to demonstrate, but nearly lost your balance again. All the jostling sent bolts of pain down your foot, which surely wasn’t a good sign, either.

He snorted, huff-laughing, other hand slipping over your waist to keep you still. “I’m sure. Come on.” He leaned down expectantly.

Relenting, you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and hooked the inside of your thighs over his waist, careful to keep your injured foot extended so it wouldn’t bump into him. It was beginning to throb.

“‘M sorry,” you mumbled, resting your cheek over his shoulder, one of your hands lifting to toy with his short, blonde hair. He began to walk down, and you tried your best to ignore the pain in your ankle. “Ruined our hiking trip. I was so excited.”

“It’s okay, honey. It was an accident! We can always go another time. Maybe a different trail, though.”

You apologized again, the whole way down, in fact, despite his assurances that he wasn’t at all tired. He really wasn’t—barely broke a sweat during the descent. Besides, he quite liked the feeling of your holding so tight onto him, your nose pressed into the side of his neck, your soft laughter brushing over his skin in one moment, your slight winces in the next.

“I love you,” you whispered, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

He felt a shiver traverse down his back, and briefly wondered if you felt it, too.

“I love you, too. That tickles, though.”

Your laugh was abrupt and ever so heart-warming. “Sorry.”

The movie, you’d told him, was a cult classic from the seventies. Steve couldn’t really remember what it was called. Callie? Cassie? It was an awful lot of blood. The arm he had wound over your shoulder squeezed you every time someone screamed in the film—which was… startlingly often.

Proposing in the middle of a gorey movie wasn’t exactly the romantic vision Steve had in mind, but since the previous attempts really didn’t work in his favor, he wondered if keeping it casual was the best way to go. So when you asked if he could come over for an abrupt movie night, he readily agreed—and brought the small, velvet ring box with him.

It was tucked safely in the pocket of his slacks, on the side you weren’t pressed up against. The weight was a constant reminder of what he wanted to ask you—occupying his mind away from the movie he should’ve been paying attention to.

He’d propose once the credits started rolling. Yes, that’d be best, right? Wouldn’t want a horrified scream interrupting his profession of undying love to you.

And so he watched. He watched and watched, absentmindedly wondering what on earth the movie was even about. He dragged his knuckles up and down your arm. When a particularly gruesome scene unfolded, Steve glanced over at you.

To his surprise, your features were softened with sleep, only barely illuminated by the crimson glow from the television, your lips slightly parted and eyes shut.

With gentle movements, Steve reached over to guide your head onto his shoulder. Your hair tickled his cheek, and he let out a soft puff of a sigh before smiling. He kissed your temple, nose resting over your forehead.

The proposal would have to wait another day.

Tony’s parties were always an affair that Steve looked forward to. He wasn’t a party-goer by any means, but he found that the grand events were a great way for him to catch up with all his colleagues, acquaintances, and work associates he otherwise wouldn’t have spoken to for months to come.

And, of course, your excitement always seemed to rub off on him. You were buzzing about the room with what looked like twenty different outfits hanging off of your arms, holding them between you and the mirror with a scrutinizing look.

“Tucked or untucked?” you asked, more to yourself than him. He wasn’t given the chance to respond, anyway, since you chucked the shirt somewhere behind you and promptly started looking for another.

When you’d finally settled for appropriately formal attire, and Steve slipped into a button-up dress shirt (which was his one and only option, much to your envy), the two of you set off for Tony’s.

The party was already in full swing by the time you got there. Steve wasn’t entirely sure what the event was for—an anniversary or birthday, maybe? Fundraising gala? A celebration of some sort of scientific breakthrough Steve couldn’t even begin to comprehend? It was always a toss-up with Tony.

You were greeting people here and there, stopping to chatter amicably about what you’ve been up to, how work was going, the latest shows you’ve been catching up with…

And then you kissed his cheek and told him you were going to go grab some drinks. Steve watched you go with fond eyes. You looked incredible tonight.

A hand on his shoulder jolted him out of his reverie, and Tony Stark’s smug face came into view.

“Enjoying the party?” he asked, sly and knowing. What did he know?

“Hey, Tony. We only just got here. What’s all this for, by the way?” Steve crossed his arms and glanced around for any telltale signs.

A smirk flitted across his expression. “Just thought we all needed a bit of social activity pumped into the team. It’s a great place to… get your courage up, hm?” Tony smiled, and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Did Natasha tell you?”

Tony snorted. “We all know.”

“Great.” Steve slid his hand into his pocket and traced the smooth grooves of the ring box. “Is everyone expecting me to propose tonight?”

“No, pfft—we don’t want to pressure you or anything…” Tony pointedly glanced at a stage conveniently placed front and center of the room. “But if you need some, what should I call it… assistance, the stage is all yours to use.”

Steve balked. Proposing at a party was one thing, but proposing on a stage in front of hundreds of people was completely out of the question.

Or was it?

“I’m not going to propose on a stage. That’s more your style.”

With a shrug, Tony rolled his eyes. “I mean, Pepper hasn’t left me yet, has she?”

Steve chose not to grace him with a response, but frown-smiled when Tony grabbed a flute of champagne and shoved it into his hands. He was gone the next second, off to greet a new round of guests.

Thirty seconds later, you appeared by his side, positively beaming, but slightly out of breath. There were two chilled glasses clutched in your hands, almost sloshing over with how quickly you bounded to him.

“Oh, you already got a drink?” you asked, grinning. You clinked both glasses against his, chiming, “Cheers!”

And as you were downing the sugary alcohol in your right hand, Steve ran a finger along the ring box again.

Maybe… maybe it really wasn’t a bad idea. He looked back at the stage. There was a microphone stand on there. Has it been there since the beginning?

He turned his head back to you, and you told him about Banner inviting the two of you over for dinner some time. Just as he was about to reply, his phone started buzzing in his other pocket. Deftly, Steve slipped his hand away from the box and went to pick up the phone—Sam’s caller ID staring up at him.

His friend’s voice sounded strained through the phone, and Steve gripped your hand and led you to a more quiet hallway, away from the crowd and the thrum of music.

Sam hurriedly told him that there was trouble downtown—something about Spider-Man and a very sandy guy.

“Sandy?”

“Yeah. Dude’s made of sand.”

“Oh.” Steve paused, brows furrowing. “I’ll be there in twenty. Can you keep it together till then?”

“Don’t have another choice, do I, Cap?”

With that, Sam hung up. Steve looked to you, crestfallen.

“Honey, I gotta go.”

Your voice was light and airy, despite your slightly crestfallen and confused countenance. “Sam’s in trouble?”

“Yeah. I’ll—” There was an uncertain pause. Steve leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at home. I love you.”

Your brows pulled together. “I love you, too. Stay safe, Steve.”

It was something you just had to accustom yourself to—when your boyfriend was a superhero, his priorities encompassed far more than you. But you understood, as you always did, and let him hurry away with a stiff lip.

The hospital was packed. Claustrophobically dense. You hurriedly wove through the crowd of anxious people hovering around the information desk, having already gotten the text which room Steve was in.

A few twisting hallways later, you pushed through a door and just about collapsed with relief when your eyes landed on Steve.

He was badly bruised. Hues of deep purple and faint blues were blossomed all over his face. One of his eyes was swollen, his sandy-blonde hair was tousled, and his bottom lip was split. He was wearing a hospital gown, and you felt nauseated wondering just what other injuries he was hiding beneath the fabric.

But he was alive. That was the least you’d hoped for.

Tears pricked your eyes, and you only then registered that Bucky was there, standing by the bed, expression grim and steeled. His blue eyes darted away from his best friend’s face to meet yours.

“I’ll give you two some space,” he murmured with a tight edge to his voice. Bucky patted your shoulder and whisked off before you could say anything.

“Steve?” you croaked, drawing nearer to the bed. Your throat felt tight. “Oh, God…”

Despite his entire face aching, Steve managed to tug one of the corners of his lips up into a meager smile. “Hey, honey.”

His voice sounded hoarse and overused, but was still utter music to your ears. You just about collapsed onto the side of the bed, reaching out to gently brush the back of your shaking knuckles over what little of his face wasn’t bruised.

“I heard what happened on the news,” came your tearful whisper. “I was so worried you…”

Something softened within the blue of his eyes. “I’m still here.”

You dipped forward to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and his tired eyes slid shut.

“Has a doctor checked on you yet? Any permanent damage I have to look out for?” You pulled away so you could roam your eyes over his form once more.

“Just a few bruises. Bone fractures. Nothing I can’t recover from,” he replied, though he winced when he tried to shift and sit more upright. You placed a hand on his back and helped him move, cautiously slow.

“Take it easy, old man,” you warned. “Don’t want you to pop a hip.”

Steve wheezed out what seemed like a laugh. Then, his eyes darted to the bedside table, where some spare clothes were neatly packed in a bag. Bucky had brought them, making sure to hide the ring box safely underneath a few layers.

Should he? Now, when he had the chance?

“I have something to ask you…” he began, tentative, dragging his eyes back onto you. You tilted your head pointedly, beckoning for him to go on.

Just as he was about to say the words, there were three rapid knocks to the hospital room’s doors and they creaked open immediately after, two nurses shuffling in, clipboards in hand.

“Hello, just here to run a few more check-ups!” one of them chirped. “It’s not often we get a super admitted in here.”

Steve just about physically deflated. Your brows kinked, and you patted his cheek fondly.

“I’ll come by later—gonna go see if Sam is okay. You should rest, Stevie. Love you.” With one final kiss to his cheek, you got up from his bed and made space for the bustling nurses. He barely managed to lift his hand to wave you goodbye before you hurried out of the room, back into the packed hallways.

A month had drifted by since he wound up in the hospital (and discharged the very next day). It was pleasantly breezy that day—gusts of wind tousling his now-overgrown hair and whistling sweetly in your ears.

Steve bent at the waist to place the bouquet of flowers down in front of the headstone. If it were any windier, he was sure it would’ve blown away. But it stayed put, the petals only barely swaying to and fro, and he righted himself back up.

“Sarah Rogers,” you whispered, eyes trailing across the smooth grooves of her name indented into the slab, voice thick with fondness. “What did she look like?”

Your arm wounded over the small of his waist. The two of you had visited the cemetery a few months prior, where you helped him scrub all the moss and dirt from her headstone. He told you about many of his adventures with Bucky before his time frozen in the ice, but very little about his mother.

A wistful smile touched the corner of his face. Now fully healed, much to your relief.

“She was blonde. Blue eyes. Crow lines, I think. Really faint, but they appeared every time she laughed.” There was a nostalgic warmth to his tone.

“Took after her, then.” You beamed down at the grave. “She must’ve been beautiful.”

Steve leaned into your grasp and kissed the very top of your head. “She was. She would’ve loved you, you know.”

“Yeah?”

“She would’ve thought you were perfect. She saw a lot of terrible things in her lifetime, but you—you would’ve made her laugh a lot.” A pause. The wind hummed a disjointed tune. “She always believed in me, even though she was terrified for me all the time. Worried herself sick. If only she knew I’d end up here…”

Your head landed on his bicep. “She knows. She knew from the very beginning.”

The blonde smiled at you again, and you couldn’t help but notice his crow lines, too. It was comforting to know that there was so much of his mother in him.

“You ready for lunch?”

“I’m starving.” you told him, before blowing a chaste kiss to the headstone. “See you soon, Mrs. Rogers.”

Steve began to lead you away, and he couldn’t seem to scratch the smile from his lips. The two of you started walking back home, taking your sweet time. You were saying something—something about a nice lasagna you had frozen in the fridge—

But Steve could barely hear any of it. He couldn’t hold it back anymore. He had to tell you now.

“I love you,” he interrupted. The words died on your tongue and you regarded him curiously, as if he’d grown a second head.

Apparently, there was a near manic look to his eye that prompted you to worriedly query, “Is something wrong, Steve—?”

Instead of answering, Steve stopped walking. He dropped down onto one knee, brandishing the ring box from his pocket, flicking it open. The realization broke across your features just a second later. Your eyes widened, and you reared back in shock.

And the words—the words just came tumbling out. Not at all what he’d scripted for months on end, but something entirely different. Something raw and unfiltered—purely from his heart. “I love you, more than I can ever put into words. You’re just—amazing, perfect in every goddamn way. I don’t want to go another day without calling you mine. I want to be yours, honey. All of me, every single bit of me, with all of you. It’s been an honor being your boyfriend. Really, it has, but I’m… I’m ready to be your husband, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

There were tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You were only but a streak of color before you were yanking him forward, practically burying his face against your chest. He didn’t care that there was a rock digging into his knee. Barely even felt it.

The next moment, you were pulling away to yank him back up, kissing him like he was the very air you needed to breathe.

“Is that a yes?” he asked against your lips, slightly muffled. He was smiling, because he already knew your answer.

You nodded into the kiss, refusing to pull away. “I’d marry you a million times over, Steve. Again and again and again, until you get sick of me.”

“Could never get sick of you,” he whispered, forehead leaning over yours. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two of you broke apart minutes later, reluctantly, though you had permanent smiles etched across your faces the entire way back home. The ring fit you perfectly.

When the news broke to the rest of the Avengers, they all erupted into an array of groans and cheers, and multiple wads of cash were passed around. Natasha sent the two of you a pleased wink. You two just landed her a combined total of a hundred bucks, but some secrets were simply better left unsaid.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfic #captain america x reader #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers drabbles #steve rogers ff #steve rogers x you

589 notes · View notes