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starmieknight · 2 years

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A Truth Universally Acknowledged

Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character, Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, Thor x Jane Foster

Summary: After a long period away from home, Collins returns to work at the Avengers Tower where she meets their newest guest. He’s certainly charming and handsome, but she can’t shake the feeling that everyone is hiding something from her when it comes to him.

After the events of the Convergence, Loki is finally given a second chance to redeem himself by Odin’s favorite method of dealing with unruly sons: banishment to Midgard. Sometimes, he’d rather be sent back to isolation on Asgard than deal with Stark and his lackeys. But the pretty little PA that stumbles into his parlor is a welcome distraction.

At the very least, he can use her to rile up the Avengers.

___________________________

“I’m Collins Cunningham, Miss Potts’ assistant. I haven’t heard any news about a guest in the Tower, Mister…”

“Cooper. Damos Cooper.”

“Mister Cooper.”

“It is an honor to make the acquaintance of a lady as lovely as yourself, my dear.”

Contents: Secret Identity, Fluff, Romance, Soft, Gentleman!Loki, Pre-Age of Ultron, Flirting, Slow Burn

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Twelve, Chapter Thirteen, Chapter Fourteen, Chapter Fifteen, Chapter Sixteen, Chapter Seventeen, Chapter Eighteen, Chapter Nineteen, Chapter Twenty, Chapter Twenty-One, Chapter Twenty-Two, Chapter Twenty-Three, Chapter Twenty-Four, Chapter Twenty-Five, Epilogue

Collins stepped out of the elevator with a newfound sense of familiarity with the Avengers’ floor.

For the past two weeks, she had spent more time with Pepper in her bedroom than she had with Oliver in her own. Her apartment was getting rather dusty and the orange tabby seemed grumpier with her by the day.

Collins hated to leave him so often, but it couldn’t be helped. She only hoped that he didn’t stop visiting her altogether.

She would miss the fuzzball if he went away.

She rounded the corner and found Pepper waiting in the kitchen with most of the team.

Collins had learned, through her many visits, that Agents Romanoff and Barton were off on a SHIELD assignment - the only reason she hadn’t met the entire team yet.

“Hi, Pepper!” Collins greeted her cheerfully. “What are we going over tonight?”

“Ah, no.” Mister Stark interrupted, leaving his spot by the counter to catch Collins by her shoulders. He wagged a finger at her. “No work tonight! If Pepper can nag me about not taking a break and I can’t, then I call hypocrite.”

He fixed his girlfriend with a stern look, to which she just rolled her eyes with a smile, before he continued. “Forget playing super spy tonight, Doolittle, you’re wining and dining with me and the Baywatch Bunch tonight. Thor and Cap, I mean. I’d prefer if they kept their shirts on, though. Bruce, Pep - that’s optional for you two.”

Collins snorted at the mental image and moved away to stand with Pepper. She accepted the glass of wine the older woman offered her with a murmur of thanks. She nodded at the rest of the guests in greeting.

Doctor Banner gave Mister Stark an unimpressed look. “I’m flattered.”

The sarcastic tone in his voice was the most personality Collins had heard from him yet. Well, that and what seemed like anxiety most of the time.

She couldn’t be sure, but it often seemed like Doctor Banner avoided her on purpose.

Mister Stark pouted. “Well, that’s disappointing. So much for dinner and a show, then.”

Pepper groaned in exasperation and muttered to herself about her life choices. Or maybe it was about her choice of men. Her wine glass was an efficient muffler and made her words intelligible.

Collins snickered and bumped her hip gently.

“It’s because you’re not in the kinky paperwork club.” she teased Mister Stark.

Doctor Banner laughed at the return of her joke and Pepper eyed Collins and Mister Stark with dawning apprehension.

“Again, I don’t want to know.” Pepper raised her hands in surrender. “Collins, we can pick up on the work tomorrow. We’d love for you to have dinner with us - and then the night’s yours to do as you please. I’ll understand if you want to go straight home, though.”

Collins had to admit, the idea was tempting. She had spent so much time between work and looking into the data breach with Pepper that her energy meter was running dangerously low. She wasn’t sure what good she would be in present company or if she would even be good company at present.

Pepper and Mister Stark were the only people there she really knew, so maybe it would be alright for her to call it a night and just go home.

Mister Stark seemed to think otherwise.

“I won’t!” he protested, waving his hands at his teammates. “Cap may be a fuddy duddy, but Thor’s hilarious and Bruce makes up for Cap with just like, twelve percent of his presence alone.”

Steve looked long-suffering and made a face that made Collins and Pepper giggle as he passed Mister Stark into the dining area. He didn’t even deign to respond to the other man’s quip.

Thor smiled good-naturedly and threw an arm around Mister Stark’s shoulders.

“Well spoken, my friend! But explain to me this Fuddy Duddy of which you speak. Is it some Midgardian beast?”

While Mister Stark got stuck explaining a bit of pop culture to the God of Thunder, Pepper linked arms with Bruce and beckoned Collins to follow them into the dining area too.

Tony and Thor followed after them shortly, carrying the wine from the kitchen and a few foil covered pans. Thor carried three, one resting over his forearm, seemingly immune to the heat that radiated from the dish. He set them in the center of the table according to Pepper’s directions.

“Do I take it, you'll be our guest for dinner?” Thor asked Collins hopefully when she lingered by the table.

She bit her lip, the desire to go home still strong, but wavering in the face of the endearing expression the blonde Asgardian had fixed her with.

“Oh, I don’t think I could. I don’t want to impose.” She demurred, turning her eyes from him in desperation. How dare he use the puppy dog eyes on her.

By chance or by fate, her eyes landed on a newcomer to the room.

Mister Cooper strode into the room, his long legs helping him close the distance so quickly she had little time to raise her guard against his presence, and he smiled charmingly at her.

He came to a stop before her, inclining his head and taking her hand to his lips in greeting. “I’d say you can impose on this floor whenever you like, my dear.”

Collins had to laugh at him, still utterly charmed by his manners, and met his eyes.

“Mister Cooper! How are you?” she squeezed his fingers before he released her hand.

“Better for your company.” His eyes swept over her and his smile turned into the soft expression she was beginning to find familiar on his face. “Please, call me Cooper as the others do. I dare say you and I are on more familiar terms as it is.”

Collins glanced over at the others, surprised at the sudden silence that had come over them without her notice. They stared at Collins and Cooper in surprise, the latter even more so.

Pepper and Thor seemed pleasantly taken aback by the interaction between them, a slow grin spreading over Thor’s face as he observed the closeness between them.

Doctor Banner and Steve looked distinctly uncomfortable, the former more so than the latter, and Mister Stark looked more annoyed than he did when he’d dealt with Senator Stern.

Collins raised her eyebrows at Pepper before turning back to Cooper.

“Then you call me Collins. My name is stuffy enough… as it is.” She teased lightly, determined not to treat him differently in the face of company.

“Though a lovely name, I shall abide by your request.” Cooper smirked at her and inclined his head to the table. “Will you join us for supper then, Miss Collins?”

“You’re joining us!” Mister Stark exclaimed unhappily. He stepped forward, a muscle in his jaw ticking, but was intercepted by Pepper.

She stepped forward, giving Mister Stark one of those looks that was testament to the long years they had spent together, even before they were a couple.

There was a tense silence in the room as Mister Stark and Pepper seemed to hold a conversation through their eyes only. Mister Stark was the first to look away, throwing himself down into the chair at the end of the table and downing a glass of whiskey.

Pepper turned back to Collins and Cooper with a polite smile.

“All the more company!” she said kindly, giving Collins a pat to her shoulder before linking her arm through Cooper’s. The man stiffened, but allowed Pepper to lead him to the opposite side of the table. “Cooper, you can sit next to me.”

She fixed Mister Stark with a warning look and saw Cooper into the seat next to her.

It surprised Collins when she chose a seat in the middle of the table, putting Doctor Banner between her and Mister Stark and keeping a measured distance between the men and their mutual dislike.

It seemed that Pepper and Thor were of one mind in keeping Mister Stark out of the interactions between Collins and Cooper, as Collins found herself settled next to Thor and across from Cooper. An empty seat was left on Mister Stark’s other side when Steve chose to sit at the other end of the table.

“Well, I for one am quite happy with this arrangement.” Cooper smirked to himself, looking pleased to have the company of both ladies. He had quite successfully stolen them away from the one who insisted on the family-like dinner - and had all of the room he desired at the table.

Collins could hardly scoot her chair to either side without being in danger of an elbow from Thor in her plate or catching Steve’s leg with her own.

“I bet.” she pouted half-jokingly. She raised a brow pointedly at the blonds on either side of her. “At least you’re not in danger of being squished.”

“Come, darling, don’t you feel secure between the strongest Avengers?” Cooper teased her with a gleam in his eye. There was something even more charming about those eyes than usual.

Collins caught herself staring and turned her eyes away.

“From what? The salad?” She gave Thor a playful glare as she reached for the salad tongs. He chuckled at her and moved the bowl closer so she could reach it better.

“Hardly, Miss Collins,” he assured her. “Have all you like.”

“I dare say it would be the roast.” Cooper leaned forward, catching his tie with one hand, and wore an expression like he was divulging a great secret. He glanced at Thor with a smile bordering on wickedness. “Fill your plate quickly - Thor could eat the pan and still demand more.”

Collins lifted a hand to hide a smile.

“Cooper…” Thor huffed in disapproval. He frowned and looked like he wanted to say more, but was holding back.

“Okay, okay!” Collins passed the salad on to Steve and held up her hands. She fixed Thor first, then Cooper with a warning look and a wag of her finger. “Let’s not get our feelings hurt over dinner, boys. Besides, neither of you have had dinner with me before - you might catch me keepin’ up with y’all after a long day at work.”

Her little joke got a snicker from Steve and smiles from the others at their end of the table.

Doctor Banner even looked a little more at ease, though held himself as tensely as ever, and drew Mister Stark into conversation to distract him from the annoyance of having Cooper at the table with them. The billionaire resisted at first, but Doctor Banner knew him well enough by now to catch his interest and soon the two were firing new ideas for robotics back and forth while Pepper turned her attention to them and offered some business applications for the ideas.

With Cooper and Mister Stark away from each other, the atmosphere of the room lightened enough to fall into a comfortable silence when the plates were filled and everyone focused on sating their hunger.

Collins again caught herself watching Cooper from time to time when she wasn’t worrying about her table manners. It was hard to relax sitting between a prince and a figure from history, let alone across from one who seemed more refined than most of the people she had met in her lifetime. But it was hard to worry about scraping her fork over her plate or chewing too loudly when Thor openly laughed and called attention to himself throughout the meal when Mister Stark made a joke.

Collins had to dodge a careless hand from the God of Thunder more than once when he began a story from home, gesturing wildly and never seeming to notice Collins until he nearly hit her. Then he would apologize and scoot over a bit until it happened again.

After a while, the empty chair between Thor and Mister Stark was removed and the former moved closer to the Science Bros (as Mister Stark had started calling himself and Doctor Banner), leaving Collins and Cooper to share a look of quiet exasperation.

They were left in a little bubble of quiet with the addition of Steve and Collins found herself able to observe him freely without fear of an elbow to the face.

He was more reserved than she was used to him being, though his manners to her were as nice as ever. He seemed almost entirely fixated on her and paid little attention to the others except to Pepper, with whom he was distantly polite, and Thor, who he seemed eager to tease. Steve and Doctor Banner he ignored entirely.

He had said nothing to Mister Stark throughout dinner, but Collins had caught him looking down his nose at the other man with a smug expression when the billionaire glanced their way.

Mister Stark looked increasingly agitated with every silent jab at him, and Collins exchanged a look with Pepper. An unspoken agreement to intervene was made between them.

“So… Cooper.” Collins mused quietly and caught his attention. He curled a brow and she offered a cheeky grin in return. “Have you started The Lord of the Rings yet?”

He chuckled at her impatience to have him caught up on the story and nodded. Cooper lifted his wine glass, long fingers playing with the stem of it, and his attention was wholly on Collins again.

“Oh, yes.” he confirmed. “It’s proving quite different from The Hobbit. Bilbo’s tale seemed almost fairytale in nature - and I must admit, I believe I prefer it over the other so far.”

It was a touch surprising, considering that he was fond of Hamlet, which had little shortage of conflict, but Collins thought his preference endearing. It wasn’t often she heard a man prefer the whimsical over something with more action and grit.

“It does. But the books are meant to be told from the Hobbits themselves - I could see why Frodo’s story would have a darker tone.” She agreed and took a sip of her own wine. “How far along have you gotten?”

“The Hobbits have parted ways with Tom Bombadil and met Strider.”

“Oh, I’ve just gotten to that part, too!” Steve exclaimed, surprising them both with his interruption. He looked a little embarrassed, but pushed on. Collins felt rather guilty that they had been ignoring him. “Sam said I should just watch the movies, but I’ve heard they leave things out.”

“Unfortunately, that’s the way it goes in movies.” She made a face, but kept her preference for the movies to herself. She would readily admit that there were parts of the book that didn’t fit into the movements of the film. “The bit with Tom and Goldberry is left out entirely. How are you liking the books, Steve?”

Collins turned to Steve in an attempt to make up for her earlier neglect and he looked surprised by her sudden interest.

“Well, I don’t think I’m far enough in to judge the newer books, but I like The Hobbit alright.” he admitted.

Collins laughed quietly, incredulous. “The newer books?”

“I can remember when The Hobbit first came out.” Steve smirked a bit bitterly and Collins was suddenly reminded that he was a child of the forties and not the new millenia like herself.

“I forget you didn’t grow up the same as me.” She gave him an apologetic look and tried to recover. “Y’know, if we ignore the time you lost, we’re about the same age.”

Collins winced and turned her eyes to her plate again. A blush crept over her cheeks.

How could she even dare to bring up his time in the ice? How could she be so insensitive to remind him of the time he lost? Everyone else seemed to love reminding him of the fact and here she was, no better than the others for not treating him like a person.

He was a man, even with the shield, not some relic of the past.

“It’s nice to not be seen as an old man for once.” Steve chuckled kindly. Collins felt that it was safe to look up at him again, relieved that he wasn’t upset with her. “And to see that people still appreciate the same books after all these years. Was it you that talked Cooper into reading them?”

He glanced at Cooper and she followed his eyes to find the man watching them with literal green in his eyes. Envy turned his lips downwards as Steve captured Collins’ attention, but he perked back up once she turned to him. He turned his eyes to Steve for a moment, but looked at Collins again when he spoke.

“I admit she sparked my interest in them. But it was Miss Collins herself who forced the books upon me.” Cooper teased her with a faux solemnity to his expression.

A surprised laugh tore itself from her throat, too loud to be ignored, and she grinned at Cooper openly.

“I did not! You said to lend them to you, you sneak!” she cried. “In fact, if I have forced a book on you, it was Pride and Prejudice. You can’t read only Shakespeare and still call yourself cultured - you need variety, Cooper.”

“I wouldn’t say Cooper here has any culture - unless it’s in his hair.” Mister Stark cut in with a snort. Collins turned to him in shock, her jaw dropping at the malice in his voice. “I gotta warn you, Doolittle, Rock of Ages looks like he goes weeks without washing it sometimes.”

“Tony!” Pepper cried, aghast.

“Y’know, you’re not meant to overwash curly hair, Mister Stark.” The words fell from her lips automatically, a reminder drilled into her by her great-grandmother all her life, and Collins grimaced at her own response. She frowned at Mister Stark. “I don’t see what hair has to do with the type of culture we were talking about anyway…”

“I’m surprised you can talk to the man at all, given what he’s really like.” Mister Stark fixed Cooper with a sneer. The decanter of whiskey that sat before him on the table was low, but Collins knew the man’s tolerance was too high for the excuse of drunkenness to fuel his attitude.

Cooper tilted his chin up in challenge, ice in his eyes as he met Mister Stark’s own unflinchingly.

“Just what are you implying, Stark?” he asked cooly, his voice low.

Cooper’s lips curled in a mockery of a smile. It was more of a baring of teeth, a wolf ready for a fight.

Collins and Pepper exchanged an alarmed look and began rising to their feet. They worked well together for a reason - Collins would follow Pepper’s lead if it came to stepping between the men and they would divide and conquer between Cooper and Mister Stark respectively.

Thor rose with them and soon the others followed. The God of Thunder caught Mister Stark by the shoulder as the shorter man tried to press forward and kept him in place.

“Stark, you would do well not to start something.” Thor warned, keeping his voice low. He cast an anxious look at the women and nodded at them with an expression meant to be reassuring.

It did nothing to calm Collins. She had never seen Mister Stark like this and was baffled by the change in attitude. She had only ever seen the pleasant side of him, all jokes and flirtatiousness, occasionally interspersed with manic engineer when he spent too much time unchecked in his lab.

Mister Stark tried to brush Thor’s hand off. “Because you’ll finish it for him?”

“Okay, I think we can call dinner over now.” Pepper exclaimed and stepped around Doctor Banner to cut off the line of sight between Mister Stark and Cooper. She continued speaking between gritted teeth. “Tony, can I have a word with you?”

“Sure, let’s have it out right here! Doolittle here’s gunning for the Cooper Defense Squad, Thor’s the president - where better to get everything out in the open?” Mister Stark scoffed.

Collins looked over at Cooper, worrying her lip between her teeth at the thunderous expression on his face. She had begun moving around the table without conscious thought and found herself now behind Steve, close enough to touch her friend.

Cooper tensed when Collins brushed her fingers down his elbow. He turned his head minutely, still watching Mister Stark intently, but reached behind to catch her fingers. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his hand cool against her own.

A touch of tension left her shoulders and Collins tugged him a little closer to her and Steve.

The action didn’t go unnoticed and the captain clapped a hand on Collins’ shoulder before pressing forward so that he stood in front of Collins and Cooper. He crossed his arms and Collins found her line of sight blocked entirely by his broad shoulders and Cooper’s own tall frame.

She felt like a kitten guarded by a pair of large dogs.

“Careful, Tony.” Steve warned the other Avenger. “You’d need your suit to take on Cooper. After all, he’s looking like the bigger man in more ways than one right now.”

There was a moment of stunned silence around the table as everyone stared at Steve. Collins could see the swell of Cooper’s cheek rise and he turned his head to hide a grin.

The others seemed shocked that Steve was on Cooper’s side, but Collins had to tuck her head as well, just as amused as Cooper with the jab at Mister Stark’s height.

Steve had really thrown them a curveball with that.

“I think that’s the cue to go.” Doctor Banner said slowly, his eyebrows raised. He took Mister Stark by the arm and led him away from the table amidst protests from the other scientist. “C’mon, Tony. Pepper.”

He inclined his head at Pepper and she hurried after them, calling over her shoulder to the others with an apology in her voice.

“I’m so sorry everyone. I’ll sort this out.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Those left behind shifted awkwardly, trying to avoid each others' eyes.

Collins looked around the men and huffed a humorless laugh as she started gathering the dishes.

“Family dinners, huh?” she commented and succeeded in breaking the tension.

Thor snorted and, like a spell being broken, the men moved to help her. The remaining food was carried to the kitchen and leftovers on plates scraped away into the trash.

“Aye, it’s quite reminiscent of home.” Thor made a face as he caught up to Collins by the fridge. Behind them, there was a quiet laugh Collins had only had the delight of hearing a few times before.

She turned and caught Cooper watching Thor, his lip caught between his teeth to hide a smile.

Thor looked at him too, a tentative smile also on his face.

Collins raised her brows, rather lost on what seemed like an inside joke, but didn't comment. Instead, she nudged Thor to remind him of the casserole dish he had in hand and took it from him to cover and place in the fridge.

Between super soldiers and hardy Asgardians, it was in little danger of going to waste.

Collins had often heard Pepper lament the loss of some leftover dish or another.

The quiet sounds of the kitchen were almost domestic and Collins was reminded vividly of the after dinner clean ups back home. There, it had only been her and her mother left in the kitchen while her father wandered off to some project or television show.

The kitchen had been the center of many a heart-to-heart with her mother and was, in her mind, the center of her home.

Kitchens seemed to have that effect no matter where they were found.

“Sorry about Tony, you guys." Steve sighed once the dishes were put away. He looked so upset that he could hardly contain himself. But also sad and a little defeated. "He’s… not been himself lately. Part of it might be all these late nights Pepper’s been putting in. Doesn’t excuse that, though.”

Collins worried her lip between her teeth.

“I’ll see about getting her to step back a little.” she offered, eyes wide with apology.

Cooper surprised her by reaching out to tip her chin up. She was surprised by their difference in height every time he drew close.

He dropped his hand and offered her a small smirk.

“Don’t be too concerned, my dear." he murmured. "This attitude from Stark has become commonplace whenever he and I have the misfortune of crossing paths with one another.”

It did little to reassure her. Now, not only did she have to worry about Pepper's health and the health of the relationship between her and Mister Stark, but now Collins would worry about the severity of the feud between Cooper and Mister Stark.

“If you don’t mind my asking, why do you stay here? Why put up with that crap, especially since y’all’s dislike of each other seems mutual. Seems like spittin’ gasoline on a fire at this rate.” Collins frowned up at him, her brow furrowing in confusion and displeasure.

Cooper’s expression was oddly fond as he watched her emotions play over her face.

“I would leave the Tower today if the circumstances would but allow it." He admitted with a sigh and took her hand, tracing small doodles against her palm. Again, something itched at Collins' mind, telling her something about him was different today. "As it is, I cannot.”

Collins opened her mouth, ready to push on and ask why. Why was he there then? What was keeping him from just leaving?

But she found herself nearly barreled over by Thor, the blond behemoth nearly knocking her against the counter as he threw an arm around Cooper’s shoulders and gave him a shake.

He gave Collins a nervous grin.

“Because, he’s a… refugee!” Thor drew out the words like he was trying to catch them. He winced at his own tone and turned his head.

“A… refugee?” Collins asked slowly, quirking her brows at the pair of men before her.

Cooper sighed deeply through his nose and closed his eyes like he was wishing he were anywhere else.

He shook Thor off and moved to stand next to Collins, his nose wrinkled in annoyance.

“From Europe!" Steve chimed in, a smile just on the side of too charming plastered on his face. It looked like the smile he wore in the old videos Collins had been forced to watch in school. It made her have horrible flashbacks to PE. She turned her eyes to Cooper as Steve continued to explain. “There was a sort of coup there and SHIELD had Cooper placed here for security!”

“And Mister Stark’s not happy about that.” Collins murmured. Her brow furrowed. That wasn’t like Mister Stark. “I guess that makes sense considering his relationship with SHIELD. Still…”

Mister Stark, for all the carefree air he liked to present, tended to care too much. He became a superhero to make up for his own mistakes for crying out loud!

Collins couldn’t see him being angry at someone just for sharing his living space.

Mister Stark would have just given him his own penthouse and upped the security if it was a simple case of not getting along or SHIELD interference.

There was something more going on with Cooper than Thor and Steve were letting on. Something they either didn’t want her to know or… something classified by SHIELD.

Collins lowered her eyes, lost in thought, and Cooper seemed to feel the confusion and tension radiating off her.

“Don’t fret about it, Miss Collins.” he murmured, nudging her lightly. The brief touch left a trail of goosebumps in its wake and Collins found her attention stolen by Cooper again. “It is only a temporary situation. As soon as the tension in my… country has eased, I shall be out of Stark’s hair for good.”

“Oh…” The idea of Cooper leaving made Collins’ heart drop to her stomach. They had only known each other for a short while, broken into chance meetings and interspersed with long absences, but Collins felt like she was losing a chance on something great if he walked out of her life now.

“What’s this? Are you disappointed by the idea of my departure?” Cooper tried to tease her, his voice gentle. His eyes, however, contained a hint of melancholy as well.

“Well, if you’re gone, I don’t have anyone to harass about books and poetry.” Collins sighed, trying for a smile to lighten the mood. It was too early to ask him to stay for her, a near stranger, but she could be honest. “I’d be terribly disappointed.”

“I see.” Cooper offered her a miniscule smile in turn. “Perhaps I won’t stray far if that’s the case. I should sorely miss our conversations, Miss Collins.”

There was a quiet longing in his voice that threw Collins for a loop and she was left speechless by the naked sincerity in his words.

Looking back on their previous conversations, there was always something more lingering around Cooper, a slight air of superficiality in his words that left him polite and reserved of any truth in his desires. He had charmed her and convinced her - in a somewhat roundabout way - to come back with books in tow to break the monotony of his time in the Tower. She wasn’t a resident of the Avengers’ floor and unfamiliar enough still to be interesting to him.

The freedom to leave the Tower should kill any false hopes between them of continuing this… flirtation they had going on.

But Cooper implied that he would hang around. For her. Because of her.

Even he seemed surprised by this admittance, his eyes darkening to storm darkened seas as he peered down at her.

Behind them, Thor and Steve exchanged an awkward look, seemingly forgotten.

Steve cleared his throat, breaking Collins from her trance.

She blinked rapidly as she turned to the blond, still trying to place just what was different about Cooper.

“I think I’m gonna call it a night.” Steve announced, eyeing Cooper hesitantly before nodding at the others. “Thor, Miss Collins. Hey, uh, Cooper - if you’re not too busy later, can we finish that talk about The Hobbit?”

Cooper looked poleaxed.

“.... I suppose?”

“Great. Good night, everyone.”

Steve left them to their devices and headed down the hall to his room.

Collins fidgeted awkwardly, fighting a yawn. She glanced at the time on the microwave and winced at the late hour.

“I guess I oughta get goin’, too. Before I fall asleep under the table, anyway.” She made a face and thought longingly of her bed and the extra sleep she would be able to get.

“Allow me to walk you out, Miss Collins.” Cooper inclined his head towards the elevator and offered her his arm.

Collins’ eyes lit up and she slipped her arm through his with a shy smile. His suit was smooth and crisp beneath her fingers and he smelled of something sharp and crisp, like a winter morning. What a Yank.

“Sure. Night, Thor.” Collins allowed herself to be led out of the kitchen, offering the God of Thunder a wave as she went.

“Good evening, Lady Collins.” the blond inclined his head. “I hope you’ll join us again soon.”

“You got it, dude.” Collins shot him a finger gun and grimaced at the cheesiness of it.

Cooper raised his brows, amused, and Thor laughed.

“You are a fan of the Full House! My Jane has shown me many episodes.” He enthused. “It is most amusing!”

His joy was contagious and Collins found her awkwardness melting away with ease. She laughed quietly and nodded before turning the corner.

Yet again, she was alone with Cooper.

She looked up at him, suddenly shy again, and her grin gentled.

“So, that was something else.” Collins murmured.

“Something of a disaster, you mean.” Cooper corrected with a smirk. “I had imagined your coming to dinner quite differently.”

“Is that something you think about often?”

“It’s a coping mechanism. If I look forward to my time with you, what little time I spend in Stark’s presence is more manageable.”

“I would say that I’m flattered, but it’s really just sad to think about.” Collins murmured with a frown.

“You are as a guiding star in but a temporary storm, my dear.” Cooper slipped a hand beneath her chin to tip her face up. She met his eyes and found what was so different. His tie was blue and made his eyes seem lighter and clearer than ever. “Do not worry - even the smallest ship may at times surprise you by enduring to arrive in its harbor no worse for the wear.”

“And even the strongest barque can be toppled by a well-placed wave.” she challenged in turn. A pout threatened her lips. “I don’t like sittin’ idly by while others struggle, Cooper.”

“Such a kind heart you have, Miss Collins.” he sighed fondly. The corners of his eyes crinkled and Collins felt her heart skip a beat. She was becoming all too fond of those lines in his face. “I feel all the more fortunate to have met you for it. If you are still so concerned, I would have you visit more often - if you have the time to spare, that is. Perhaps I could even enjoy my time in the Tower with such an amicable companion.”

Collins felt her face warm and her eyes flickered involuntarily to his mouth. The combination of her exhaustion and his easy flattery was messing with her skills of perception.

When had he gotten so close to her, close enough for a stray ebony lock to brush her cheek? Her hand had strayed to his chest, her palm resting over his heart to feel the steady thump of his life force while his enchanting eyes held her captive.

He was whittling away her desire to go home one flutter of his eyelashes at a time.

Cooper unlocked their arms and trailed his fingers down her forearm until he could slip her hand into his own.

“Could I give you my number?” Collins asked breathlessly, feeling her heart run wild with the contact. She had to break up the moment before she lost herself entirely. “That way we can text each other before I come over - and keep in contact when I can’t. I hate to think of you stuck here without anyone on your side.”

The thought of him alone grounded her and helped her find her senses again.

“Thor has been on my side from the beginning, and it seems you’ve helped me find a champion in the captain as well, but one can never have an overabundance of allies. Tell me your ‘number’; though I warn you, these… cellphones are not my forte. It will no doubt be some time before I work my way around this concept of ‘texting’.” Cooper shook his head doubtfully.

“Y’know, I could also have an intern run messages from my office.” Collins offered, a mischievous light sparkling in her eyes. He acted like such an old man at times. “If you’re so invested in this old world persona you portray.”

“And what of you? Ordering the help about like a lady of the court!” Cooper exclaimed quietly with a laugh. He shook his head again. “No, I will settle on your terms and give you a call.”

“Alright, then.” Collins accepted and rattled off her number. “You think you can remember that?”

“I have an excellent memory, my dear. I won’t forget. Go now - your eyes look as heavy as lead and you’ve begun to list with weariness. I shall call you tomorrow when you’ve had the time to rest.”

“Call around one - that’s my lunch hour.”

“Very well. Good evening, Miss Collins. Go safely.” Cooper lifted her knuckles to his lips, lingering there for a long moment before releasing her.

Collins felt her face warm to boiling. She cleared her throat and lowered her eyes bashfully.

It seemed she was doomed to blush like a fool everytime they said their goodbyes.

“Good night, Cooper.” She bid him, reluctant to look away even for a moment as she stepped into the elevator.

He inclined his head to her, watching her go with an affectionate smile as the doors closed and she was carried away.

Collins cocked her head to the side as a thought caught her.

Cooper’s mannerisms left him looking a lot like Thor.

A princely manner indeed.

#loki mcu #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki au #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #mcu fanfiction #loki x original character #loki x original female character #loki x oc #loki x ofc #my writing #A Truth Universally Acknowledged

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all-inmoderation · 2 years

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saying this as only a movie fan, I do not want Bruce to become a ~playboy~ in the next movie. Respectfully, I do not see it and I do not want it.

At most, I could see him come out of his cave after the Riddler fiasco and trying to integrate himself back into society but I can’t imagine him going out of his way to flirt with women or have a bigger-than-life persona. It’d make more sense to me that he’s the one getting approached because everybody’s curious about the prince of the city, so he’d humor them, but I don’t think he would dominate conversations.

Just like when Falcone started talking to him at the funeral, he responded but he spoke curtly. He’d be a man of few words, and let people reveal themselves to him by listening, imo.

#it makes more sense for a character like Tony stark to use his charm to draw info out of people and be a smooth talking player #but I just CANNOT imagine that with the is Bruce #and I don’t want to !! he’s so endearing like this #and you can turn his silence into a cunning observatory silence instead of awkward silence (like it was in tB) if u wanna show his growth-#-in the next few movies #maybe this is just me not wanting my faves to be too similar to each other lmao #but I loooooovee the soft spokenness of this bruce #I can imagine women sidling up to him and being taken by his soft voice and him not having to play up a front #the batman 2022 #the batman #Bruce Wayne #battinson #the batman movie

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alpines-bucky · 3 years

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No one said Starks weren't a little dramatic

This is the first time I write Tony x daughter reader I hope you guys like it :)

Word Count: 2319 ( Things got a bit out of my hands while I was editing and eventhough it's edited I can't promise that there aren't any typos and I dtill wasn't satisfied with what I wrote but 🤷‍♀️Ig )

Warnings: Major character death, a lot of angst

Y/N loses her dad when he decides to save the universe with a snap of his fingers but when did anyone see a Stark not getting what they want? Let me answer for you, Never. ( AKA Y/N gambles with time and space and universes surprisingly there isn't any VA involved cause in my opinion they suck to save her dad but apparently there are always consequences)

Y/N had arrived at her destination albeit being a little late. She wanted to be there when the team tried to go back in time to get the Stones in hopes of saving aunt Tasha too but she had one and only shot at this so she had to make do with what she had. What she didn’t realise was she accidentally changed universes instead of going back in time.

The way she found out that the place she had arrived wasn’t when or where she intented to was Morgan, the little girl with big Brown eyes who had total control over her older sister the second they met. Y/N had to lay low and do her research before approaching them. But when she heard about Morgan she had to meet her before doing what she came to do. And that’s exactly what she did.

She found Morgan in a house by the lake with a woman who she assumed was Pepper.Her visit was short since she couldn’t afford getting caught by Pepper which would mean jeopardising the whole plan she had spent months making. She left a message for her dad before going off to save the man itself.

Her dad was fighting with Thanos when she arrived to the scene. The more she looked around the more it looked like the place she fought along with her dad and that meant one thing, she had to act quick.

‘’I am inevitable’’ Thanos said as he snapped his finger but nothing happened. Confused, he looked at his gauntlet to find that the Stones that were there a minute ago were no longer in their places. He looked around to see that Tony had them somehow.

‘’And I’m Iron Man’’ said Tony full of emotions as he was about to snap his fingers. He thought having all six Stones in his hands would kill him being a mortal and he was fine with it if that meant she could ensure his family’s security but he felt nothing. He thought he had died instantly but he found out that wasn’t the case when he got startled by an unknown voice.

‘’Oh, the hell with that!’’ said a girl who wore a similar suit to Tony’s. She seemed to appear out of nowhere. Which confused both man further.

‘’Who the hell are you?’’ asked Tony. Who the hell was mad enough decided to mess up the only chance of him stopping the big purple psycho of a man.

‘’Who do you think?’’ said the girl, winking at him confidentally but her eyes told a different story. There was sadness in them, grief and loss but it seemed like she was happy at the same time.What surprised him was the familiarity she carried but he couldn’t put his finger on it. So he searched her suit for some clues which led up to him finding the Stones. She was the reason he was not dead, she somehow got possession of the Stones.

‘’Kid, no!’’ yelled Tony. He attempted to get closer to her but she snapped her fingers before he could stop her. Everything stilled for a second. The other avengers thought Tony had done it as Thanos’ soldiers had started to turn to dust all of a sudden but when they found a girl that they’ve never seen before in the arms of Tony with fetal injuries they were puzzled. They gathered around Tony and the girl who struggled tos tay alive.

‘’I made it! I… I saved you, Dad.’’Tony was shocked at her words. He was processing what he heard as Pepper landed next to them and kneeled. They couldn’t Wrap their heads around what was happening but they both were not going to let a dying kid down for sure.

She had a difficulty breathing, she was in agonizing pain but she had a peaceful smile on her face. She tried to lift her hand but it pained her more, she whimpered. Tony sensed her intentions and put her hand on his cheek for her. He put his hand on top of her, gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘’Friday, what do we have?’’ asked Tony.

‘’3 to 4 degree burns from her right hand up to her face. Internal bleeding. Her lungs are collapsing... Life functions critical.’’ Answered the voice from both of the suits. Pepper grimaced, she didn’t know who this girl was but she had sacrificed herself for Tony, the man she referred ‘dad’. ‘’Who are you?’’ asked Pepper.

‘’I’m–‘’ she coughed, blood was pooling in her mouth. ‘’I’m surprised you couldn’t figure it out yet…’’ she let out a bloody laugh. ‘’I’m Y/N. Y/N Stark.’’ She said with her last breath. That shook the whole group to their cores. The girl wasn’t lying or confusing Tony with someone else. The girl who lied in his Tony’s arms nonbreathing was infact the daughter of Tony Stark. From the moment they realised the truth everything was a blur to the Stark Family and the avengers.

Y/N was Tony’s first daughter who had died in a cross fire 7 years ago. She was a teenager at the time. She would have been a few years older than Peter if she had lived. It was a wrong place wrong time type of situation, she had died on the scene. Tony had nightmares after that, his insomnia got worse. He had blamed himself although it had nothing to do with him. The guilt ate him alive day by day. He realised why the girl’s eyes were so familiar to him now, she was his Y/N/N. A grown, older version of her, but his Y/N nontheless.

He didn’t think he could recover from her death but losing her, seeing her die in his arms for the second time ruined him. He had no idea what was happening outside of his head, he was in a trance, he had stayed still looking at his hands where Y/N laid. Until his little girl, Morgan came up to him with a disk in hand and said ‘’Daddy! Daddy! A girl called Y/N wanted me to give this to you’’ That got everyone’s attention.

Tony told Friday to scan the disk and display whatever is in it. When he saw Y/N in front of her, he couldn’t stop the tears from falling and when she started speaking as if she could see her Tony lost it. He couldn’t hear her because of his own sobs, he didn’t even realised the rest of the avengers and his wife as they piled in the room when they heard Tony and Y/N’s voice. He had to stop the hologram a few times to gather himself. When he got control of his breathing, he built up his courage and displayed it all over again.

‘’Hey dad. I’m assuming since you are watching this I suceed. I’ve saved you.’’ She had to stop for a second to take a breath in to compose herself. ‘This time’ she said under her breath but Friday caught it.

‘’You are wondering how the hell I am alive. Well… For starters, I didn’t know that I was dead in this world which… makes you realise that I’m not from this world. I’m actually from what you call an alternative universe. Things got out of hand in my universe after… after you… Oh shit! This is too hard. I knew I couldn’t do this shit! I can’t even talk to my own god damn suit picturing it as my hypothetical dad without messing it up’’ that made a few people chuckle and a few others tos mile. The girl really was his father’s child after all.

‘’Okay I’m hoping you either won’t have to watch this or I can cut that part before giving it to Morgan. Anyways, I’m rambling.’’ Tony saw his younger self in Y/N which put a sad smile to his face. This was something he never got to experience before. To see her this grown up. To see a pieces of him in her.

‘’ So things went down hill after you did the whole ‘I’m Iron Man’ thing –which by the way I’m still mad at you about- You… You died in my hands, dad.’’ She gulped. She had begun crying a while ago but now that she was talking about her dad’s death, she felt like the lump in her throat got bigger and bigger, suffocating her. ‘’ I was all alone for years! You were all I had and then within a second you were gone! I didn’t have anyone else!’’ She tried to calm herself. She wasn’t recording this to make him feel guilty or get answers she was possibly never going to hear. This was a goodbye. A goodbye she knew he deserved just like how she did from him.

‘’That’s why I made the decision to change it but I accidentally changed universes instead of going back in time. But this was my only chance, only shot at making it right. And then I found out that I had died in this universe and you had moved on. Good for you, dad. I’m really proud of you. You did what I couldn’t. It was a relief to know that you were happy and that you had a family now. I thought for a second that maybe the blip didn’t happen. That in this universe, you had a lovely life and I thought for a second maybe I could be in it too. Stay with you but that hope was shortly lived.’’ She gave a sad smile.

‘’And now I’m about to go to the battle field. Before I go, I have to say, I don’t know how if there is any way for me to stop you. I can’t take it all back but I will do anything to not let another girl grow up without her dad. And I ain’t going to let my own sister down. Oh, did you know that I always wanted a sister?’’ she chuckled making Tony’s heart warm. It has been so long since he heard his daughter chuckle the damn way he does. She stopped for a second to think ‘’Well, she has the Stark charm, that’s for sure. I only knew her for a few hours and she had me the second we met. I wish I could be there for her as her older sister. I would give anything to see her grow up but if that has to be for only one of us to see, I’d rather that be you because I’ve been there. I know how hard it is to lose your dad. I could see clearly what she would have to go through and the moment I realised that I knew what I had to do. I would stop you at all costs and since this reacording is being played I could sleep peacefully knowing she has you.’’ She smiled with tears escaping her eyes once again. Tony was full of emotions. His daughter he has been longing for years was right in front of him but way too far away at the same time.

With a sigh she started ‘’ You have people you can hold on to. I never did. Pepper, Morgan, Rhodey, the spider kid... Hold on to them Tony. Hold on to the team. Oh, speaking of the team, tell them I love them and I missed them so badly. I’m sorry. I thought I was going to have more time to talk And maybe if a miracle happens and we all can manage to stay alive I could tell you all about it but I have to go now. Have an old man to save’’ She saluted and looked around right where the broken team of Avengers were with longing in her eyes. She moved closer to the disk to cut the recording but decided against it the last second. Tony hung his head, his heart broke to hear the hope in her voice when he knew what already happened. He thought this was the end of the recording but he looked up when he heard her talking and she had turned to him and looked right at him as if she knew where he was stated. That sent shivers up Tony’s spine.

‘’I know you think I made the wrong decision but I saved you. I refuse to let you down once again. I refuse to see you die in front of me once again. I’m not sorry for what I’m about to do, I knew the consequences when I made this plan months ago. I’m only sorry because although I tried so much to have the future we always talked about with you, I won’t be able to, Tones. But Morgan will be. And I would give up anything for that little girl. And for you.’’ She said as she caressed the necklace Tony gave her when she was a child. She took the chain out of her neck and put it somewhere Tony couldn’t see. And Tony knew this was only a tape but he tried to hold on to his daughter, to stop her from going out there. His breath caught in his throat when his hands went through Y/N’s body. He fell to his knees.

‘’ But hey if it turns out that I, this badass manage to get both of us home in one peace one we can laugh our asses off as we watch me being the drama queen that I am… Well, no one said Starks weren’t a bit dramatic.’’ The heart Tony thought had broken to a million pieces broke further as he heard the tremble in her voice as she tried to put her brave face on. But she couldn’t hide it when one last tear escaped from her slightly swollen eyes as she ended the recording.

Why do I never have good endings? Cause I write in the middle of the night when I feel sad most of the time and it's easier to write sad than it is to write happy.

I hope you liked it. I would love to hear your thoughts on this one. I'd also like to discuss if you'd like the alternative ending that could be a happy one :)

#avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #avengers endgame #tony x daughter!reader #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #tony fanfiction #tony fanfic #stark reader #tony x reader #tony x you #tony x y/n #tony stark #avenger reader #avengers fic #marvel fic

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fanfiction-inc · 3 years

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“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

[Previous Chapter] / [Next Chapter]

Verse: Falcon And The Winter Soldier / Captain America And The Winter Soldier / Captain America: Civil War/ Marvel Alternate Universe

Characters/Pairings: Baron Zemo/ Reader, Baron Zemo/ Female Reader, John Walker

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 8971

Warnings/Tags: Drinking, smut, m/f, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, drunk sex, Google translated translations, Walker is an asshole and just keeps getting worse.

Summary: Baron Helmut Zemo, world renowned racer and your sworn enemy on the track. You two have been going at it for years now, but now you two must join forces to fight back against John Walker, a new up and coming racer who is proving to beat both of you. Will you two survive the other or meet your demise on the track?

Ao3 Version: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32606833/chapters/81176392?view_adult=true

This is a mess. An absolute, blazing mess that sits before you in the middle of your workshop. The chassis was dented all to Hell, a new one having to be rebuilt and delivered to fix your custom car. The engine had parts missing that were left at the crash sight when it was towed away. One car to your name, and it was fucked up. Maybe you should have taken Stark’s sponsorship and invested in a backup. Sitting on the cement floor of the workshop, screwdriver in hand as you pry out bits and pieces of parts from the engine, taking note of the parts and working on the budget you had set out for this year's series of races, you dreaded the moment you’d see the total cost. This repair would take a nice chunk, but you still had money left over after to make sure your car was at its best. That was the thing about working with your car, it was just you and this beast of metal and speed, working as one to reach the end of the line. The screwdriver is set down at your side when you struggled too long on getting the broken interconnecting rod that links the turbine from the compressor, a sigh following as you sit back. A slow sense of dread fills you as you look at the broken parts scattering the ground, the missing parts on your list, and the purple paint that still streaks the busted carbon fiber chassis.

Working with Zemo was a dangerous game, which you recognized even before you shook on the arrangement he had proposed. He was wicked on the course, predictable at times but at others a ticking time bomb of what his next move may be. He was dangerous, but that is what made him damn good. He took far more risk than you usually would when it came to advancement in the race. Where you held back, he pushed forward. No wonder the man infuriated you. But this plan was the only thing you had to get things back to normal, back to the way they were where you hated Zemo with a passion and fought tooth and nail to stay better than him. You would never admit it, but without your rival, what fun was the race? See, it's not only the thrill of the chase between the driver and death, inching closer and closer with each hairpin turn and the risk of the other driver's moves. No, it’s also the thrill of having someone who wants to win just as bad as you, who is just as good and will do anything to try and progress further than you. It sets a standard, something to surpass, something to stay on level ground with when you catch yourself falling. Zemo was your equal, no matter how much you hated him. And equals like you two don’t have room for a third party to jump in and surpass. The game isn’t any fun when someone fucks with the rules. He had a point when it came to beating Walker down, especially since the man was already fighting you both with molotov cocktails and rocket fire in the form of playing dirty on the track. He was bringing a war to a battle just to see if he could come out on top. Despite everything telling you to stay away from Zemo and not get involved in this scheme, that it could end badly for one or both of you, you couldn’t stand the idea of having Walker walk all over you like some doormat. You couldn’t let him walk in as if he owned the place and could rule as he pleased.

He needed a reality check.

Your form pops and cracks as you stand, stiff from sitting on the solid ground and stretching to relieve your body of the tension. Everything felt so wrong, and you knew you had to make it right...But was this the right way to do it? “Jesus, you sound like that rice cereal with the little elves. You know, snap, crackle, and pop?” You laugh lightly when your friend comes into the workshop, food in hand and dressed down from the usual luxury attire he wore when visiting. No suit and tie in sight, just the oil stained wife beater you had seen him in when pursuing your education in the states as he worked tirelessly on his little toys as you liked to call them. He sets the bag down, the scent of the food causing your stomach to growl and pinch with a hint of pain. Have you really forgotten to eat today? You hadn’t noticed. “Got your favorite. Do you know how hard it is to find a restaurant that speaks English? I had to have Friday translate for me.”

“Maybe you should take a new hobby and learn the French language.” You retorted with a grin, the man shaking his head as he sets everything out. “Maybe I want you as my teacher, but you’re always busy with driving around in your fast little car and getting famous for fighting a Sokovian asshole.”

“And you’re too busy tinkering away with your toys in your little workshop in New York. Truly Tony, don’t tell me you actually want me as your teacher when your toys can teach you for me.” You pause as he rolled his eyes, watching the man for a brief moment as he turned to unwrap his burger. “Speaking of said Sokovian connard, he came to the bar I was at last night.” The man paused mid bite on the thick patty before speaking with his mouth full. “Okay, spill, what did he want?”

“Well originally I thought he was going to cuss me and try to blame me for the failure to complete the race yesterday, but he showed me something. You know the young man who won the race yesterday, corriger? John Walker?”

“Yeah, I know the guy. Races for the American McLaren team and came straight from F3 to F1. What’d he do?”

He raises a brow when you sigh, taking a seat beside him on the desk he had set the food down on and stealing the dish he had brought you. “Zemo showed me proof that Walker hit his car and sent him flying into mine. And I believe he did it on purpose.” You explain, taking a bite of the food your companion got for you. You pause for a moment to chew before returning to your theory. “On my way to the car bay, he smirked at me, and it wasn’t a “I won” smirk- well, it kinda was, but it was rather a “I did this to you” kind of smirk. Not necessarily an evil one but one that showed he knew exactly what he had done and was proud of it. Pride in an unfair act.”

“And no flags were thrown up?”

“Non, not a one. As our friend the Baron said,” you cringe at the term friend, “the ones watching the race possibly couldn’t tell if he had done such on purpose or by accident. I believe him about such. And I suppose that brings me to what I’m about to say next.” You take a breath, gaze conflicted and downcast to your food as you speak. “The Baron offered a temporary truce of our rivalry to take down this John Walker, thus allowing us to return to what we do best after Walker is taken down.” He listened intently before his nose scrunched at the idea of such. You two working together? Ha! That’d never work! “And you said yes to this crazy idea? What the Hell are you thinking, (first name)?” Your hands shoot up in defense, gaze rising to meet his own. “I know, I know! It’s a crazy idea, but you know as well as I do that if Zemo and I want things back to normal, back to the rivalry, we have to do this together so Walker is met with further resistance. If I could avoid it and deal with this American scum, no offense, then I would.”

“Some taken, but I get it. I just wonder if you two will go back to the way things are after all of this. Who knows, maybe you’ll become that dreaded word you hate to associate with him in any capacity-”

“Ne t'avise pas de le dire, Anthony.”

“Friendssss.” He draws it out, causing you to roll your eyes at his antics and slap his arm with the back of your grimey hand. He pretended to show a hurt expression before chuckling when another slap came, this time to his chest. “Oh hush, we will never be friends.”

“I guess time will tell.” A shrug followed as Stark finished the last bite of his burger, crumbling the wrapper and lining up the shot with the waste bin in the corner. “He shoots,” the paper lands in the bin, his arms going up in the air. “He scores!”

“Stop goofing around, ma amie. I asked for your help with this and now I need it.”

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

Three weeks have passed, and the Germany race is upon you. The Nürburgring, a beast of a track that many racers to this day in Formula 1 fear like a plague sweeping the track. Your mind has been racing as you pieced your car back together and got it ready for racing. What happens if something wasn’t installed in the engine right? What if you didn’t get the intake vents lined up just right? You were a perfectionist with your car, and you know deep down that it was ready for race day but it made your head sing with pain as a migraine sets in. That wasn’t the only thing that made it throb and bring you to lean against the chassis of your car. Zemo’s deal, it worried you sick. But you didn’t have time to think about it much today. You couldn’t dwell on it. You had a race to win.

Your eyes flick up at the speakers, listening to the message. It was press conference time. You take your seat where your name tag and flag set, giving a nod of acknowledgement to the crowd of reporters sitting and waiting to open up questioning. To your left, Walker seats himself with a boyish, charming smile that didn’t quite meet those dark eyes. He looked your way, hand held out to you. “Hey, I hate that we didn’t get to meet earlier on. I’m John Walker.” You glance at his hand before looking back up at him. He played a good game, acting innocent like the boy scout he tried to be. You wouldn’t fall for his games, but you shook his hand briefly. “(First name) (Last name).” He grinned. “Oh, I know who you are. I’ve been watching you race for years now! I hate that you crashed a couple weeks ago, would have loved to have been standing on that podium with you.”

“Oui, such a shame that was. But today is a new day, Mr. Walker.” Your gaze flickered to your right, startled by your rival taking his seat and looking directly at the pair of you. The Baron never sat beside you, even going as far as to request a seat change from the press conference coordinators. Some learned to keep you two separate, others knew it would incur drama, and drama made money.

“Alright everyone, please take your seats and the conference will begin in one moment!”

“Say, did you get your car all fixed up? Must have cost a pretty penny since you don’t have any sponsors.” Walker continued on, this time his gaze looking at the reporters as he gave a brief wave to the ones he recognized from the states. “Oui.” He gave a huff of a laugh. “Not much of a talker, are you?” You wanted to bite back, to say something and throw hands with this man, but you would be escorted out and disqualified in a snap. “Non.” A leg bumped yours under the table and you glance at Zemo who met your gaze briefly. Those dark brown eyes questioned if you were okay, a silent question that only you understood. The slightest nod was sent his way before looking at the reporters who got things settled and ready.

“Questions are now open-” The announcer was startled with the amount of questions directed in the direction of you three, clearing his throat as he nodded to your little trio at the table. Mr. Walker!” He gestured to the reporter, watching him stand and adjust his microphone and camera. “Mr. Walker, this question is open to the three of you. Under allegations from the previous race at The Circuit Paul Ricard, many are wondering if you had caused the accident involving Zemo and (Last name). How do you feel about these accusations?” The man had the audacity to laugh and throw that boyish smile to the camera, rubbing at his face. “Look, that was not supposed to happen once so ever. As many of my fellow racers can attest, one wrong slip of the hand on your wheel and your car will eventually go off track. I got nervous, twitched, and just so happened to bump the Baron’s car into Ms. (Last name)’s car. I feel terrible, I truly do, but it could have happened to anyone with any driver. So I refute these accusations and continue to say this is an accident.”

“And you, Baron, Ms. (Last name). How do you feel about the accusations?” The reporter gestured his question to you two now. “I respect your opinion, Mr. Walker,” Zemo began, the man smiling and sending a nod his way. “But I call, as the Americans say, bullshit.” His smile fell, darkened gaze questioning the man on what the Hell he was going on about. The reporters erupted in questioning, trying to get the attention of the two racers who stare each other down around you. You lean back a bit for them to have a better view-line, One of the American reporters calling your name. You use this moment to break the tension. “Oui?”

“Do you believe you stand a chance as a woman against these two leading men now that John Walker is starting to gain points and nearing your total?” You blink at his question before taking a deep breath, holding it to calm your throbbing head, and releasing it slowly. “Oui, I do. I believe I can keep up just as well as any racer. Take my racing career with Zemo. I have kept up with his old extrémité arrière.” The French reporters in the room resound in a fit of chuckles, bringing a smile to your face. “And against Walker?” You meet his gaze as he stares at you expectantly for an answer, forcing that smile he tried to use on you earlier. “I believe I stand quite a good chance, but que le meilleur coureur gagne.” You shrug, listening as the smaller drivers get asked their questions. The whole time there are eyes burning into the left side of your head, waiting until the racers are dismissed. Walker watches you as you walk out, watching the way Zemo comes up in tow as you make your way to the car bay. Something was up, and he could feel that there were clearly doubts in your mind about the accident in France. He would just have to deal with you later. “(First name), wait!” Zemo followed you into the bay, slowing from his jog to keep up with you to a stop near the desk holding your notes about the race and your vehicle. “I haven’t had a chance to talk with you in person since the bar.” He paused, looking into those eyes of yours that gaze at him curiously. “Are you ready for this, fräulein?”

“Aussi prêt que possible, Baron.” You busy yourself with inspecting your car for any last minute changes, the man watching you as you inspect and work. “Good, good. And we are still a go, yes?”

“Oui, we are still, as you said, a go.” He grinned at you, gaze flickering down your back as he looked over your uniform. Of course he had noticed you in all aspects before, talent and skill being the top, but never had he been this close like the night at the bar and now to really see you. Maybe after all of this, even with the rivalry, you could be friends, dare he say anything more than such. “You’re staring.” You quip, breaking him from his trance to meet your gaze. The faintest hint of color lingered on your cheeks. He coughed, trying to clear away the embarrassment lingering in his form. Why was he getting embarrassed? “Just thinking about what will be left behind when I pass you on the track, mein liebe.” Your eye roll doesn’t go unnoticed, the man relaxing due to how calm you are around him. No biting his head off, no anger, just chill. You stand and give a playful shove to his shoulder, smiling at the Sokovian. “In your dreams, Sokovian. Now, get the fuck out of my car bay.” He smiled to himself as he walked away, mind now clouded by the smile that lingered on your lips. He liked when you smiled, and he had to make sure this plan worked.

The race was gearing up to start, the same process as before coming into play. Car, balaclava, wheel. You take your moment to breathe, today your speed has placed you in second, just as the plan entailed. Zemo took the first position. He glanced your way, sending a nod in your direction, only to smirk beneath the balaclava when you flip him off like usual. The rivalry was still on, no matter what he would still have that after dealing with Walker. Still have you in one sense or another. Your glance focused in on the man across the way in the pole position opposite of you, his eyes locked on the two of you before meeting your gaze. There he stares you down, even as his helmet slipped on. The visor was flipped down at the one minute warning, eliminating the final clarifying view of his gaze. It was clear he was cautious of you, maybe even lingering with hate.

“Fahrer! Starten...sie ihre....Motoren!

That familiar purr settles into your chest, spreading through your body like a dam breaking and flooding the valley below. It stirs up the motivation to win once more, removing any doubt from your mind as you rev your engine. Zemo was right, Walker had to be stopped. With this attitude about racing, playing his little mind games and wrecking racers, he’d get someone killed just for first place. You couldn’t allow that...but you also couldn’t allow the rivalry you have established with Zemo to be broken because of someone else. There was too much there to be lost. Your fingers tighten around the wheel, licking your lips beneath the helmet as you prepare yourself for takeoff. The lights start counting down the race. Five seconds away, one green and two red lights. You watch them count down until the bottom lines of red are fully lit, then they flash off. You’re off, following Zemo right on the tail of his car as you start into the track. This track was a beast, your mind racing as it remembers every nook and cranny of it. Seventy three corners, eleven danger points, hair pin turns, all on a 12.8 mile long course that was deadly in the onset of any weather and people who get careless with their moves. Lucky enough, the sky was only overcast. No rain, little wind to interfere with the aerodynamics and mobility of the chassis, just the perfect chill in the air to remind you where you were in this moment. You take your turns with ease, avoiding the group of cars that began to follow suit on the track behind your own. Your eyes remained locked in on every shift to your side, Walker keeping close by within each turn and danger point you went through.

As you drive, Walker gets up past you within one of the speed trap areas, the stretch of road allowing him to be up beside Zemo and leave you on the back of their tires. Zemo had a plan, you believed in this plan… but had he just been toying with you to get closer to Walker? Doubt clouded your mind, even as you sped up in an attempt to join the boys directly in the front. Perhaps you shouldn’t have followed this plan, even as you get through the first twenty five laps, then the next twenty five. Each turn brought your tyres closer to Walkers who eyed you cautiously from time to time, as if silently daring you to pull a move like he did. Maybe you’d be caught and black flagged. Hell, that would make his fucking day if that happened. As he watched you, he had failed to notice on the wider strip of the track how Zemo began to drift further and further ahead. Then he was side tracked, Zemo slowing abruptly and stealing the attention of the young American driver. “What the Hell!?” He yelled over the roar of multiple motors, watching your car join Zemo’s side and the original speed be resumed. Now you sat beside Zemo on the track, pedal to the floorboard as you two kept your lead and basically walled Walker in. Each time he tried to drift around, one of you would shift your car just enough to keep him locked in. A grin met your lips as you drove, the energy of the race taking a whole new shift as you got closer and closer to the last lap with your rival right at your side. Tips of the chassis lined up perfectly, rear aerodynamic fins aligned like a well oiled machine. You two were in perfect sync as you put Zemo’s plan into action. Create a wall of impenetrable magnitude. If Walker tried anything, all three of you would go down. If he tried to get around, he would be blocked. There was no getting out from behind you two.

The checkered flag waved in the quickly approaching distance, your gaze for a moment looking at your rival. The blur of purple was steady, lined with yours like that of an air jet's flight coordination. Perfectly straight, and running at full throttle like you are. As your cars pass the finish line, debate begins to rise. It was too close in the end to call, at least not right away. You slow, allowing the purple beast to pass by and enter the pit before you, a silent gesture of courtesy to the man you worked with. He sent a small nod your way when he watched you get out of your car, helmet removed along with his balaclava and revealing the joyful grin resting on his lips. Anyone else would mistaken it for cockiness, but the look in his eyes said it all. You two did it, you beat Walker in the race! He must be furious! A breath is held on your end, helmet and the fabric covering your face discarded as you turn your gaze away from the arriving racers and the man you drove along with. You were locked in on that score board, curiosity eating at you for who may have won the race. You were neck in neck with the man, the smallest push forward could earn either of you the points for the day. No names shown yet, and you anxiously leaned on the hot surface of the carbon fiber vehicle as you waited. Each noise around you from the slow dwindle of engines to low, fading purrs to the pit crews of your respective teams surrounding you, your rival, and the newcomer were drowned out by the pounding of your heart as it flooded your ear drums. It felt like hours passed as you kept your gaze locked on, ignoring the happy clamour of your crew, the clasp of hands on your shoulder and pats on your back, even down to the ruffling of your hair in glee. Then it flashed up.

1st: (First initial). (Last name)

1st: H. Zemo

2nd: J. Walker

The press goes crazy over the news, each respective country reporting their amazement over the finishing results.

“Ein fehlerfreier, aber überraschender Sieg für Baron Helmut Zemo, der mit (First name) (Last name) gleichauf den ersten Platz belegt!”

“Victoire pour la championne de France (First name) (Last name) alors qu'elle rejoint le Baron Helmut Zemo dans une rare égalité!”

“In a remarkable and truly unprecedented event in The Nürburgring F1 race! Baron Helmet Zemo and (First name) (Last name) tied in a photo finish for first place, a rare occurrence that has set back American racer John Walker from the potential for first place!”

Your breath comes out shaky, slowly slipping out as reality hits you like a wrecking ball to a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs as a happy noise rings out from your lips, joining your crew in the celebration as they hug and surround you. You placed first. Zemo placed first. Curiosity met you, your gaze looking to the man who celebrated with his own crew before allowing himself a chance to settle his gaze on you in turn. There he sent a wink, a silent congratulations that made you shake your head at his antics before refocusing on the celebration. You would be standing with the man in first place on that podium, both sharing the victory wreath and spraying champagne all over the crowd of fans and your respective pit crews who were basking in the glory just as much as you two were. You couldn’t help the glee bubbling up in your form, even as you make your way not too far from your rival. For a second, just a split second, you let the rivalry go and let your smile be seen in accompaniment with his gleeful grin, shoulders bumping when you’re positioned at the podium by the F1 management crew. Press swarm to the area like flies to a summer barbecue, wanting to catch a glimpse of the rivals standing together, being on the podium and sharing first place. “Not so bad working with my, as you put it earlier, old extrémité arrière, hm?” He questioned as you two stood together, the closeness you two were forced into for the photographers far more comfortable than it would have been under any other circumstances. He blamed the feelings he had at this moment on the victory over Walker, over the rest of the racers, not even thinking that perhaps this was beyond the fact that he won but that you, his favorite rival, won alongside him. “Non, not the worst.” You joked lightly, forcing a serious face for the cameras when they began to picture you two side by side on the first place stand. He accepted the bottle of champagne before you could, holding it out. “You may have the honor, (First name).” Your fingers brush his own as you grasp the bottle with him, popping the cork and sending the bubbly to decorate the crowd. Flash after flash met you as you stood alongside Zemo and basked in the glory of the win. “How about drinks to celebrate? Even as rivals, I believe a drink wouldn’t hurt.” He whispered the question, causing your gaze to lock on his own in brief surprise. Was he serious!? “I um..Oui, sure. Meet you in town?” He nods, gaze seeming to glimmer ever so brighter as he takes his leave. Even when you separate to get cleaned of the alcohol and switch to “civilian clothing”, your smile doesn’t falter. Maybe it would be good for you to drink the night away with company that didn’t seem as bad as you once had thought before.

As you begin to peel away the racing suit, the flame resistant material bunching at your waist and revealing the open expanses of your back, the simplistic bra strap over the back the only material seen, you fail to hear the seething man enter your car bay. “Do you know what you just did, Ms. (Last name)? Who you fucked with?” Walker puts his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him, his face inches away from yours. “You went and fucked with the wrong man. You could have just accepted your loss, licked your wounds, and we would have been just fine. But oh no, you had to go and fuck with my winning streak with that Sokovian piece of shit.” He huffed when you shove him back, gaze narrowed and arms crossing over your bra covered chest out of annoyance. You could care less what he saw. “I don’t see why you’re so mad, Mr. Walker. You got a taste of your own medicine after that stunt you pulled back in France. You and I both know that was no accident.”

“You know what? Yeah, I did that. But I see you are working with Zemo now, which is also a big no-no in Formula 1. Seems we’re both sinners of the race. The greed of it.” His tone was a hushed, harsh whisper. There was no need to alert anyone that he was in your private quarters harassing you. “I’m nothing like you.” Your tone came out in a hiss, his downturned lips curving up into a grin at your response. “Oh sweetheart, I beg to differ.” He chuckled at the narrowed gaze he was met with. “You and your Sokovian boy toy need to back off. Let this happen like it should or you’ll not like what happens next.”

“And just what do you think you’ll do, John? Because all I’m hearing right now is a lot of talking with no proof of any big execution.” Your lazy grin and scoff of annoyance at his presence left him to raise his hands in mock defeat, hands coming to rest on your shoulders once more with a harsh grip that made your body tense and hold you there. He leaned in, even as you tried to lean away, his lips moving in close near your ear. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” His tone alone makes your body betray you, the calm, cool, and collected front slipping as a shiver ran up your spine at his warning. And with that, he leaves you to get dressed for the night.

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

Zemo texts you an address for a bar off the beaten path in Cologne, Germany, further than you had anticipated in going from the track but a welcomed change of scenery. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, Frenchie. I will do anything to win. You best remember that.” The words stick with you, even as you drive the main road into the big city, looking for the bar Zemo had invited you to. It was connected to a hotel, a fancy hotel at that, with old architecture and lavish exterior. You could only imagine the interior! A nervous breath is taken as you get out of the car, gaze meeting the man you had just won with. He smiled at you, clothing casual and the air around him feeling far more comforting now than ever. The incident with Walker had left you rattled, sending your nerve endings to buzz and let your body know that you aren’t okay. Even though you felt off, you force a smile to the man who wrapped a friendly arm around your shoulders and led you in to sit at the quiet bar. “So, did I not tell you the plan would work?”

“I just thought it was your cockiness talking, but I will admit, though it physically pains me to do so…” You pause, biting your lip. “Well?” You sigh. “You were right.” The words come out struggled and forced, the man's grin growing at such. “Ah~, I don’t believe I caught that.” “Oh va te faire foutre!” He chuckled at your words, hand raised towards the bartender to get you drinks. “What are you ordering?”

“Shots. We deserve something to toast our victory to, and I don’t believe champagne is your drink of choice.” He offered you one of the smaller glasses, his own raised before him as he locks those bright brown eyes with your own. “Ein Prost! To us, and our victory over John Walker. May that American schwein taste defeat again.” You raise your glass, hoping to drink away any thoughts about Walker's warning and leave it for the next day. Throwing caution to the wind, you decided right then and there that you would finally have fun and disregard the night that you sat across from your rival. Tonight you just wanted to drink. “À la vôtre!” The drink is bitter as it hits your throat and travels down your body, causing a warmth to spread soon after. Kuemmerling, a bitter concoction of herbaceous and bittersweet flavors. A drink of choice for Zemo it seemed because soon after the shots were downed, he ordered another round.

Shot after shot after shot is taken down until your body is leaning against his own and a joke that is shaky at best from his part sends you into a roar of laughter. He holds you close, laughing right along with you. “So... It’s Barenjar?” He snorts at your piss poor pronunciation of the new liquor joining the mix, shaking his head at you as he looks on with drunken vision. “Nien, nien, Bärenjäger. Say it with me. Bä-”

“Bä-”

“Ren-”

“Jäger!”

“Mick Jagger?”

He laughs in defeat, shaking his head as he watched you. So relaxed, so calm. He hasn’t seen you like this before in his life. He’s startled by your sudden movements after downing your last shot for the night, catching you as you try to stand and stumble as your feet betray you. Your body landing against his, his arms slotting themselves around your waist as your drunken gaze catches his own. Those brown eyes of his are hypnotizing, keeping your gaze locked on his own. “I have something to confess, (First name).” He paused to wet his lips, trying to piece the words together in his hazy mind. “I have liked you since the day I met you.” He finally blurts out, fingers moving up to brush away a stray strand of hair that had fallen into your eyes. “You’re infuriating, yet calming. Stubborn and determined. Your smile is lovely and those eyes…” He trails off, leaving your hazy mind questioning what was going to come after, but you hardly have time to think about it as he pressed in closer, face inches from your own. The smell of Bärenjäger and Kuemmerling lingered on his breath as it fanned over your face, those brown eyes searching for something in your own. “Can you feel it, the connection we have? Can you see that we are not just rivals now?” His tone was just barely above a whisper, questioning you with a hint of desperation to his tone.

“Oui.”

That was the only answer he needed. His lips are on yours with fever and desperation, hands clinging to your form for dear life after hearing the words that sent him to fully fall into the feeling of you. You were his comfort, the one constant thing in his life. His rival...but right now you were the woman he sloppily kissed at the hotel bar as the bartender tried to catch his attention to tell you that you both were cut off for the night. His hands moved to grip at your thigh and tangle in your hair, abandoning the idea of holding anything back, the liquor giving him courage to make a move on you. He has wanted to do this for years, touch you, feel you, have you there with him in any way he could. He separated only when the threat of security was offered by the bartender, lips kiss swollen and a faint pant falling from them. “Come.” His hand takes hold of yours, leading you along to the lift and up to his room for the night. This hotel that he called home for the time being would serve well for what he had in mind to do to you. He led you inside, not even waiting for the door to close as he captured your lips once more, hands taking your rear in his grasp and hoisting you up so your legs wrapped around him, back pressed up against the closest wall he could find. He held you there, lips separating to begin trailing hungry kisses down the column of your throat and allow his hands to trace along your sides. His fingers slipped beneath the fabric of your shirt to feel the bare skin there, wanting what he has longed for since the day he met you. A noise fell from your lips as he lazily suckled a mark over your pulse point, your fingers tangling into his dark hair and tugging the locks when his hips grounded against your own. He couldn’t help the fire blooming in his body, needy for the creature that has teased him for all these years, The one he thought he would never have a chance with because of their hate for each other on the track. He needed you, and in your current state, you were willing to accept any touch he offered. He was just Helmut Zemo tonight. Not your rival, not the Baron, just Helmut. And you were his (First name).

A groan left his lips when you pulled him by his hair away from your neck, hands working to take your shirt up and over your head. Throwing it aside, he looked at you with a gaze of admiration. It was similar to the gaze he gave when looking at the new modifications to his car, taking pride in the beauty of things that drove him to win. He dampens his lips, fingers lazily dragging up the expanses of your back from bottom to top, resting on the clasp of the garment covering your breast. “Darf ich?” Your nod was all he needed, the clasp undone with skilled fingers that knew precision, holding still on your back when your arms rose to take the garment and throw it in an unknown direction to be forgotten about for the time being. He wasted no time with taking one of your breasts in hand, fingers running over the sensitive bud of one while he took the other in his mouth, suckling and lavishing with his tongue. He took his time, drunken yet slowly sobering mind savoring each and every noise that fell from your lips as he toyed with your body. You’re barely into foreplay and he already has your panties soaked, the Baron being a creature that knows exactly what buttons to push to get you going without even knowing your body. He was skilled, that much was for sure in your mind as he switched to the other breast, paying equal attention to each. Those brown eyes of his don’t leave your face for a second, watching every reaction and trying to commit them to memory. If he could only have you tonight, he wanted to remember everything he possibly could. Every detail of your body, everything that drew a hitched breath or a low moan from your lips. Every shaky breath and the way your body would press closer to his greedy mouth and hand. He stored it all away. Maybe he’d wake up the next day and fancy this a pleasant dream...It wouldn’t be the first time he’s gotten worked up by thinking about you.

His hand traveled downward, cupping your sex through your pants as his own grinds up against your thigh, straining through the fabric of his pants. He ached for you, for your heated skin to be pressed against his own in a delicious rut of bodies. He traced along the seam, hearing the low whine that fell from your lips as he teased you through the material. “Helmut, stop for a moment.” The man paused all actions, his gaze shifted to a worried state as he met your eyes and spoke with concern. “Are you alright, mein liebling?”

“Oui.” Your fingers trace his jaw, the man's face briefly pressing in against your palm before delivering a soft kiss to the area. A tender gesture that sent butterflies to flutter in your stomach and heart to speed further than the foreplay had already caused. “I just...Take me to the bedroom. Please?” You preferred not being right beside the door where anyone could listen in, where anyone could hold a camera up to the peephole and record the sexual pleasures of the infamous Wildcard and Baron. That would make a top headline, wouldn’t it? He gave a chuckle at your demand, nodding as he kept his grip on you, your legs wrapping just a hint tighter around him as he moved you both to the bedroom. He’s gentle with setting you down, looking down at you when you unwrap your arms and legs from his form. “Scheiße, du bist perfekt.” He slowly worked on the buttons of his shirt, working each plastic piece through the loop with fingers that were known for precision on the course. A shift in his steering, taking hold of the semi-automatic paddle-shifters as he drove, it was all well calculated and that applied on and off the track. His shirt is shrugged off his shoulders, thrown aside before focusing on the belt on his pants. He gets it off with what can only be deemed a darkening gaze, knowing he’s getting closer and closer to having you. You rose to let your hands trail his chest, roaming over the lean muscle that rested there as feather light kisses met his collarbone. A shiver met his spine, shooting up in bliss as he allowed a moment to savor the feeling of you touching his skin. Your skin was so warm, so inviting. He was getting lost in everything.

Your fingers shift down his torso, trailing his abdomen before looping in the belt loops of his pants to pull him forward, a low growl falling from his lips when you place a kiss above the waistline of his pants. Your movements were confident, unzipping his trousers and tugging them down to reveal the tent hidden behind his underwear. He swallowed thickly as he kicked his pants off, watching your every move as you cup him through the thin fabric, thumb moving to brush over the leaking tip and cause a shaky breath to leave him. “Maus-” A groan leaves his lips when a jerk through the fabric is given, his head falling back briefly. He huffed when you repeated the motion, fingers anxious to wrap around his bare flesh and feel that hot skin in the palm of your hand. But he stops you, hand wrapping around your own and bringing it to his lips once more. “Tonight is not about me, maus.” You’re surprised when the man placed his hand on your chest, lightly pushing you back to lay on the bed as he slowly sank down onto his knees, ”Es geht nur um dich.’ His lips drag slowly across your skin, trailing light kisses and nips along your abdomen and resting at the waist of your pants. He glanced up, a silent question of courtesy offered your way as his fingers loop in the band, asking permission like a proper gentleman. “Go ahead.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, his presence making you feel like you’re floating higher and higher on this ride with him. He gave a tug, your rear lifting and back arching to aid the man as he pulled your pants down and let them fall to join the scattered articles around the room. You’d have to go on a damn scavenger hunt just to find your clothes! But none of that mattered now, not when his hot breath is fanning over your needy core and face nuzzling at your thighs. He placed a kiss to your inner thigh before another followed, then another as he began to trail inward towards your covered core. “Aufgeregt?” He purred in questioning, a low rumble of a chuckle coming from deep within his chest spilling out at the small nod he is met with, loving how he has left you damn near speechless just by being so close. Your hips jump back before he gets a grip on them, his tongue moving over the wet fabric and causing a light whine to spill from your lips. “Helmut, please.” Oh, hearing you speak his name only egged him on further, needing you. He needed to taste you, to feel you. He needed you in every way, and his drunken mind only pushed him on to pull the fabric away from your legs and stare at the glory that is you. So wet, so beautiful. He wasted no more time, bringing your legs to hook over his shoulders and delved into the intoxicating honey pot he had been offered. He started off slowly, a long lap from entrance to clit given before the motion was repeated just to hear the noise that left your lips with each swipe. Zemo was mapping you out, taking note of what areas made your thighs twitch and tense, what areas made your hips jump back at the sensitivity of his touch, and what made those oh so delicious noises spill from your mouth.

He allows his tongue to focus in on your clit, flicking the bundle of nerves in a rhythm that sends your head to spin and moan after moan to spill from your lips. “Merde!” He smirked against your core when your hand shot down to tangle in his locks, needing stability after he took your clit between his lips and suckled. He repeats the motion, gaze locked on your own and watching the sudden shock of the feeling run through your body. You were so reactive, and just for him. A lazy lick is given to the sensitive bundle of nerves, watching your hips jerk lightly and seeing the tremble that began to settle into your thighs. “Close?” He questioned as if he was questioning about an everyday thing, totally not giving the impression he was getting you close to orgasm just with that sinful tongue and lips of his. O-Oui.” Your tone was shaky, breathy, eyes half lidded and watching his every move on you. “Gut.” A gasp fell from your lips when he sank a digit into your hot, needy core, arching along the way and searching for the sweet spot deep within. He wasn’t like the inexperienced boys who would just jab their fingers into their partner and hope it hits something. No, his fingers curled, probed, dragged and felt for that spot in a way that showed his experience. A second digit is added not too long after the first, probing the flesh within until he hears your moan and finds that spot that drives you to clamp your thighs around his head. A groan left his lips at the rush of slick is met with each probe, massaging that spot within you and only adding to the tension building in your core. Each throb he was met with only spurred him on. He was on a mission to bring you over the edge, and he would do anything to get you off. When his mouth returned to your still sensitive clit, tongue flicking of the bundle and including the occasional suckle while his fingers moved deep within, you were done for. A rough tug is given to his hair as your body convulses, thighs clamping around him and grinding your hips down against his eager tongue. He helps you ride out your orgasm, lapping at your clit until you give a light shove to his head to make him stop. A wicked smile crosses his features as he gives one final suckle, a squeak leaving your lips at the motion and shoving him back as much as your trembling body allows. He can only chuckle at the attempt, fingers removing from your throbbing core. He watched your gaze land on him when you caught sight of the digits, watching the man move his glance to them as if he was inspecting them before a quiet whimper left your lips when they were taken one by one into his mouth. He made it a show, teasing you as he cleaned each digit of your juices in a slow motion. Sinking down to the knuckle before returning and licking at whatever was left. “Tease.” You huffed, chest rising and falling steadily with your hammering heart. “Oh you know you like it.” He retorted, lazily letting his body climb up and over yours on the plush mattress.

He pushed the final material separating you from him away, throwing the underwear away before letting himself settle in against your body. Zemo wasted no time in wrapping your legs around his waist, lips joining yours as he lined up with you, one hand taking hold of your hip while the other took hold of your hair, tugging it back enough to have access to your neck. As he begins to ease himself within you, his lips attach at a section of your neck, a harsh mark left in his wake as he sinks inch by inch within the lightly pulsing core that he toyed with before. A groan was left against your skin when he was fully settled, grip rough on your hip but movements gentle as he waited for you to adjust. He was no animal, not cruel! He knew that there was a possibility for pain if he moved too soon, and even in his drunken haze he recognized the look in your eyes, the slight twinge of pain from his size alone. The stretch wasn’t unpleasant, no, but it was an intrusion you weren’t quite used to when normally doing this. He lightly placed kisses to sooth you along the mark he left, trailing them up the underside of your chin, going along your jaw before soon connecting with your lips in a soft kiss. Something to distract you until you were ready for him to move. A shift of your hips was given when you tested the feeling of him in you, the moan that left your lips causing a low growl to fall from his own. He lifted his body to loom over yours, hand moving from your hair to cup a breast as he sets a slow, deep and even borderline sensual pace within your core. Slowly out until the tip stayed just barely in before plunging deeply into your warm, wet depths. He huffed with each push of his cock within your core, meeting your moans with a faint groan here or a soft growl there when your walls gripped him just right. He was losing composure with each faint twitch of your walls around him, pace beginning to pick up into a steady rhythm that developed the noise of slick skin hitting skin and the bed beneath to creak ever so slightly with each movement. “Verdammt!” He could tell how your walls began to tighten around him, how each noise leaving your lips grew louder and louder. His poor neighbors, hearing you both so vividly through the walls of the hotel. Yet he didn’t care who heard. As long as they knew that in this moment, you were his to take, that was all that mattered. Zemo moved his thumb to your clit, working the bundle along with the assault he laid on your sensitive spot deep within. Each clamp around him brought his own release to come closer and closer. “Cum for me, maus.” He demanded with a grunt, needing to feel you come undone to reach his own release. His words hit somewhere deep in you, the demand that was laced with a plea driving you to your second orgasm of the night. He groaned as he felt you clamp around him, the sensation alone causing him to remove himself from you and spill onto your stomach with a few quick pumps of his hand along his slick coated member. He pants, taking in the sight of you one final time for the time being. Messy, slickened by your own arousal and sweat. Your hair was messed up, your lips parted and panting. To add the cherry on top, you were coated in his release, a sight for sore eyes while you lay like this. He made you like this, and it swells his drunken ego.

Slowly he eased down to lay at your side, bringing you in against him with an almost delicate kiss delivered to your temple. Your breathing slowly evened out, head resting against his chest as his fingers trail along your back, drawing imaginary patterns as his mind begins to blank. The alcohol was taking effect, causing him to enter a lull and for his eyes to flutter shut. As you lay there, catching your breath, you watch as he drifts away, a single question beginning to enter your sobering mind.

“What have I done?”

Tag List: @darksxder | @mymagicsuitcase | @mischief-siriusly-managed | @alindeluce

#Baron zemo #baron helmut zemo #helmut zemo #racing au #daniel brühl #zemo x reader #zemo x y/n #zemo x you #baron zemo x reader #john walker #john walker is STILL an asshole #multichapter story #chapter 2 #“It Takes Two to Win a Race.” Chapter II

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dontcallmecarrie · 3 years

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Replying to the commenters of this post [heads up for angst]:

To @kine-iende, who said:

hot damn. if "our" justin was a mom-friend in their home-universe, here people would start questioning if justin was in secret a very motherly scrull or something (and be fine with it ^^). but yeah, love the trope too. was it "for the want of a nail" or "through a mirrorm darkly"? well, contrast and a what could have been would be lovely. feel enabled, whenever you want to write this :)

I am not very familiar with the concept of Skrulls [...iirc, that’s something introduced in Captain Marvel, which I have yet to get around to], but yeah, that tracks. Assuming it’s a thing they know to look for, though, because here Justin’s being themself is the biggest and most obvious way to establish that they are not canon!Justin.

Sure, they’re identical physically, but the moment either Justin opens his mouth, the jig’s up.

As is, not five minutes into this strange hellscape where their oldest rival looked at them with no small amount of disdain in his eyes at first, Justin had already managed to charm their way out of holding and into a very relaxed “we’ll keep an eye on him” Avengers custody.

Well, on paper at least— in reality, most of the team doesn’t really give a damn one way or another, whereas Tony starts out morbidly curious as to just how different NHDD!Justin is to the one he’s used to dealing with, and ends up getting a concentrated dose of All The Feels™ because the moment NHDD!Justin realized this Tony had a metric buttload of undiagnosed-and-constantly-belittled mental health issues and a support system that was equal parts duct tape and caffeine, he went “oh, so this universe is the Hell Timeline, okay, makes sense :) :) :) dammit Ivan you’d better fix this stat”.

In retrospect, Justin’s not sure when exactly the horror show started; if it was the absolute lack of concern or care the Avengers had for their Tony, or the minute they noticed the gauntness in his face. Maybe the tension between Iron Man and Captain America, or the obvious bravado this Tony used– and the fact that none of the others so much as noticed.

All Justin knows is, a version of someone they care about is hurting, hurting badly and has been for a long time now, and that’s more than enough for them to go “oh, okay, mine now”.

For his part, Tony has no idea what the hell’s going on. The non-annoying Justin Hammer who crash-landed an Avengers debrief is...something else, and he’s torn between shock, pleasant surprise, and no small amount of existential angst and jealousy because in the span of a few hours, Tony’s had a brief taste of what some other version of him had for a lifetime, and...

Tony’s not sure how he feels about it. He’s a genius, he can wrap his head around string theory and all that good stuff, but numbers are one thing, having to live with the fact that somewhere out there, a version of him grew up with someone so unfailingly kind and supportive and—Tony can’t think of a better word for it than nurturing— and, in the span of seconds, had been able to call him out on his bullshit and seemed to instinctively push him to be better but not in the demanding way his father or the rest of the world had—

If he thinks about it too long, it makes him want to cry, just a little. Somewhere out there was a Tony who’d been enough for someone, who had never been asked to change himself, who’d been pushed up instead of repeatedly torn down and he didn’t know how to deal.

He’d thought having a non-annoying Justin around would be funny.

This was not, it was goddamn distressing is what it was, because Tony hadn’t even known it was a possibility but now he is acutely aware of the fact that he got stuck with his Justin— the human embodiment of one of those yappy dogs who nipped at people’s heels thinking they were so tough, despite not being able to back it up.

This Justin was, uh, not that. Tony wasn’t sure if he was always like this, or if it was only with him because he shared a face with someone Justin cared about, but... was he always this much of a mom friend? And where’d that granola bar even come from, anyway? Not that he minded, it was a nice change of pace, but really?

...Tony was really going to miss him, once they figured out a way to send him back home.

To the commenter who said:

Stephanie isn’t a canon character, is she? Because if not, NHDD!Justin might be able to pull off a “the birth of my little sister awakened my previously deeply buried parental instincts” to explain his whole… [gestures uselessly].

Technically, she could be, in that Justin Hammer has a sister and nephew in canon [according to the wiki and a deleted scene, apparently]. I chose to make her a younger sibling in NHDD, to really emphasize the ‘reincarnated with shitty memory’ aspect of this AU. Specifically, while it’s never specified, Justin’s past life was...not great, and part of it was the fact that their younger sibling was sick.

With what, they don’t remember anymore, but sick enough that they know health isn’t something to take for granted; sick enough that towards the end, they remember their parents had to choose between paying hospital bills and electricity, remember going to bed hungry because meds were expensive and their next paycheck wasn’t until Friday.

...suffice it is to say, there’s a reason Justin’s so protective of those he cares about, even if his memories faded a bit on the specifics as time went by.

To be fair, canon!Justin also cares for his sister and nephew; it’s just that NHDD!Justin acted more like a third parent than a sibling, once Stephanie was born.

Bear in mind that canon!Justin’s situation is very different than NHDD!Justin’s, because canon!Justin was basically set up to fail from the start as a normal kid who was constantly compared to a child prodigy two years younger than him and terrible parents. While NHDD!Justin’s situation is similar on the surface, the difference is they’re literally a reincarnated OC, with all the baggage that entails.

Maybe, if their second life hadn’t been surrounded by adults with A+ Parenting Skills, 0/10 Do Not Recommend, their issues and traumas from last time wouldn’t have been exacerbated. If they’d been born to a regular family, Justin would’ve been a good kid but nothing special, and their memories of a past life would’ve faded away by the time they hit puberty.

But instead, they were born to the Hammer family, and proceeded to be put through the wringer.

Which is bad enough, and meant they immediately started leaning hard on everything from their past life because these people wouldn’t know good parenting if it bit them on the nose, but...then Justin’s little sister was born, which immediately kick-started every older sibling instinct they’d ever had because last time they’d been responsible for their younger sibling’s health and safety and you can probably see where this is going.

aka yes, some of Justin’s behaviors could arguably be called trauma responses and/or coping mechanisms and it’s something I only realized as I was writing this, and no, this AU was not supposed to be this messed up

Justin’s responsibility, their willingness to deal with shitty parents and do tremendous amounts of emotional labor if it helped anyone they took under their wing? That’s no accident, that’s what happens when a soul has to be the adult, has to step up because nobody else is going to. There’s a reason Justin has so much disdain for Hank Pym and Howard Stark’s immaturity, why they have so little patience for their parents as time goes on; their mental age means the older they get, the more they’re looking at the adults around them and judging them hard.

...ahem. Sorry for getting a bit off-topic, but hey, at least now you know a bit more about what’s going on inside Justin’s head!

And yeah, if he had to bs an explanation for why he’s such a mom friend, Justin’d be more than happy to point to his little sister as an excuse. So long as they know she exists, anyway; if not, he’ll just laugh it off and try to chalk it up to one of the differences between their universes.

edit to remove the stuff that got through my nonexistent brain-to-mouth filter because I was averaging a not-optimal amount of sleep as I got used to my new job

#No Hero [Downward Descending]#Naught replies #replies #thinking aloud

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scarletdawnxx-blog · 3 years

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Nightmares: A Bucky Barnes x Reader Story. Chapter 6

Steve loaded the last of your things into the truck you were taking. Stark wanted you to test out a new all electric option, he had decided he wanted to break into the all-electric vehicle game, he didn’t want to be shown up by Elon. Stark was all about going greener nowadays. You hadn’t seen much of Bucky since your date and your heart sank a little. Maybe the feelings weren’t as mutual as you thought. You tried to make it as unnoticeable as possible that you had been looking for him. You couldn’t really think of an excuse to linger any longer.

“Well, I guess this is goodbye,” Steve said, putting the last bag in.

“Don’t say it like that, I’m only three hours away. You won’t get rid of me that easily.” You replied trying to lighten the mood. You would see them all again. They were your family. Nat smiled and gave you a tight hug. You had already said your goodbyes to everyone else. Tony was trying to play it cool but you could tell it was getting to him. He had treated you like you were one of his own, but you knew with the new Parker kid coming on board he would be just fine. Steve came in and gave you a big, crushing hug next. “Steve I can’t breathe,” you gasped out and he laughed. He kissed the top of your head and let you go. He was the big brother you always wanted, but it wasn’t his arms and laugh you were wishing for at that moment.

“You let us know when you get there safely,” Steve said in a serious voice. You nodded and looked around the garage one last time. You opened the door to the truck and started to get in. He didn’t come to say goodbye. Your eyes met Steve’s and he gave you a sad smile. He knew who you had been looking for. Letting out a breath you climbed in and pulled away watching Steve and Nat get smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror.

After the drive, you finally pulled up to the address you were given and it wasn’t what you were expecting. It was as if someone had dropped a very large English countryside manor in the middle of upstate New York. You made your way up to the front and were met at the door by Jean, you would know her in an instant, her hair was unforgettable.

“Hello again Y/N” she greeted you with a smile. “The professor is waiting for you in his study.” She said and ushered you inside. The school was beautiful. Warm and inviting, with so much charm and character. You could tell there was a lot of love and happiness in these halls.

Jean led you to a large office just off the main stairs. The professor was sitting behind his desk looking over papers. He looked up and smiled at the two of you and you cocked your head a little, catching your first glimpse at the Professor's feelings. Relief. It surprised you since even when you had tried to use them on him you were met with nothing. Completely locked out.

“Y/N, it is so good to see you again. I hope the drive was pleasant,” he said and wheeled himself from behind the desk.

“Yes, it was peaceful, you have a beautiful home here,” you replied, trying to make polite conversation.

“Thank you, this has been in my family for generations. Shall I give you the tour?” he asked and ushered you back into the hall. You nodded and followed. “The first floor is offices and classrooms. You’ll find the kitchen at the far back, dormitories are the second and third upper levels as well as common areas. There is a pool, sports courts, and gymnasium around the grounds as well.” The professor went on as you followed him down the halls, he would point out the occasional tidbit here and there. You followed along and listened as he explained the classes offered. It really was a school for gifted kids and not just for their abilities but intelligence as well. You stopped suddenly when an overwhelming sense of grief hit you. You looked around and saw a young girl sitting in a window seat, staring out into the yard she couldn’t be more than ten or eleven. The professor noticed.

“Ah, that’s Rose. She has been with us for about six months now. She hasn’t spoken since coming here.” He explained and you looked from him back to her. What had happened that made her feel that kind of pain.

“What happened to her?” You asked quietly.

“Her powers manifested violently. It left her an orphan. She blames herself. I haven’t been able to reach her.” He said sadly. The poor girl. You approached her gently.

“Hello Rose, my name is Y/N, can I sit with you?” You asked her and she nodded. You sat across from her and looked out the window as well. You looked back to Rose and focused. Her grief and self-loathing were overwhelming, you wanted to cry and scream out from everything she was feeling. How could she stay so silent with all that inside of her? “It wasn’t your fault.” You whispered to her and she looked at you shocked. “I can help if you want.” You offered up to her with a small smile and gave her a small glimpse of what your power could do, letting it just sweep gently over the grief like a balm. You caught a glimpse of the memory that these feelings were attached to. The utter destruction. Not even knowing what she could do she was powerful. “You didn’t know, couldn’t have known, what was happening. I know you miss them and blame yourself, but it wasn’t you.” You told her, taking her hand in yours. You had said something similar to Bucky and your heart grew sadder. “Don’t let this consume you,” you pleaded with her. Her anger was bubbling to the surface. She believed she needed to be punished. That she deserved to live in her own hell forever and that trying to take that away from her would take away her identity. You wanted to show her a different way. “You know I have a friend who was a lot like you. He was forced to do terrible things, kill people. He didn’t have a choice but he still felt the guilt of everything that he was forced to do. It was eating him alive. He would have terrible nightmares, do you have nightmares?” You asked her and she only gave you a slight nod. “I could help with that. I could make them stop. Make all of it stop. You will always miss them, but it doesn’t have to hurt.” You told her hoping to get through. She began to cry and you scooted and held her close as she cried and cried. You held her and let her cry, you could feel her heart breaking over and over again as the cries echoed through the empty halls. When she had settled back down you pushed the hair from her face and wiped her tears away. “Would you like me to help?” you asked her again and she nodded. You smiled at her and just as quickly those feelings were gone. The grief, the blame, the pain. You took it all from her. She blinked at you and threw her arms around you in a hug. You smiled and hugged her back.

“Thank you,” she whispered in your ear.

“Of course, dear one.” You held her until she let go. “Why don’t you go rinse your face with some cool water. It will make you feel better and get a little rest. I’m going to go talk with the professor and get settled in. Find me later and we can go for a walk?” you asked and she nodded and bounded off.

“You don’t know what you have done for that girl.” The Professor said.

“Why have you never tried to use your abilities on her?” you asked wondering why he hasn’t helped her past her grief yet.

“I have tried reaching her through her mind, she was so lost in her grief I wanted to give her time, see if she could come out of it on her own.” He explained.

“She is a child, did you not think to try harder, to get her into therapy?” you asked annoyed that he let a child live in that grief for six whole months. The professor didn’t have an answer for that and continued on. You huffed but fell into step beside him. He led you to an elevator that began to take you below the main level. When the doors opened you were once again surprised by what you were seeing. An entire underground complex below the manor house. Here everything was bright and high tech and reminded you of the compound.

“These levels are restricted to the children. Only those who have been deemed X-Men are allowed on this level. We have training rooms, labs, weapons room, and a hanger for the jet.” He explained as you followed him down the hall until you came to a large round door with an X across it. The professor approached and a retinal scanner activated. The doors opened to reveal a massive round room. A large platform jutting into the center. “This is Cerebro, this is how I found you, how I find more like us.” He said and you followed him in. You were in awe of the cavernous room. Metal panels lined the entire thing and a small control panel sat at the end of the walk way that led to the center. “I know this is all new to you and a lot to take in. It has always been my wish to help those who feel lost and different. Not everyone can always be helped.” He said sadly and you knew there was more there to dive into but now wasn’t the time. “I hope that you can find the answers you are looking for here, and perhaps help us, as you helped Rose.” You followed him back out of the room and he led you to a lab where you were greeted with a very large blue, something. “This is Doctor Hank McCoy.” The professor introduced and he extended his hand which engulfed your own.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He responded and you smiled and nodded.

“You as well. What are you a doctor of?” you asked, looking around the lab. The doctor was full of curiosity and it made you feel a little like a lab rat.

“Biochemistry and genetics, I also teach science and mathematics.” He explained. So, he was a super genius. Were all mutants this highly intelligent? You nodded and wrapped your arms around yourself, a habit that made you feel a little more protected from the outside world. “If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to run some tests on you, when you are ready of course.” Hank continued.

“What kind of tests and why do you need to run them?” you asked, trying not to sound fearful.

“To get a grasp on the extent of your mutation to better help you and us to understand it and to learn how to harness it.” Hank said with a reassuring smile.

“Hank has been invaluable in unlocking the secrets to mutation and helping all of us understand ourselves better. It doesn’t have to be right away. Get settled in, take some time, and Hank will be here when you are ready.” The Professor offered.

“It has already been a long morning. If I could settle in a little, I would love to have a conversation with you Dr. McCoy, this is all just very new and a little overwhelming if I’m honest.” You offered up. It had been a long morning already. You had been on the road by eight in the morning and that was after loading the truck and saying goodbyes.

“Of course, I will show you to your room Y/N” The professor said and you followed him from the lab. He took you to the third floor from the main level. This was where most of the instructors and so-called X-Men had rooms. Someone had already brought all your things in and your life was just a stack of boxes and bags in an unfamiliar room and all of a sudden the change really set in and a melancholy set into your chest. The professor excused himself and you shut the door finally alone. You sat on the edge of the bed and put your head in your hands, the emotions overwhelming you. Right now, your friends and life seemed a world away and not just a few hours. You pulled your phone out and saw messages from Steve and Nat. Steve as always was encouraging and Nat sent pictures of Tony after he had an experiment literally blow up in his face and singed half an eyebrow off. You laughed sadly at the image. You missed them all so much already.

#james buchanan barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky imagine #The Avengers #the winter soldier #Iron Man #Steve Rogers #reader insert #bucky barnesxreader #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel #marvel fanfiction #the x-men #jean grey #professor x

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 10

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. Mild smut in this chapter.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Tony fluff, Tony snark, Tony sass and Tony smut (finally!). My & reader's brain be like: tony tony tony tony. A request for my readers: do I write a believeable tony? Is he in character, more or less?

My beta @miscmarvelwritings - she's not into Tony but even then, she was finally excited about them finally getting down & dirty. The patience of this woman...

"Tony, could I borrow, like, a hoodie or something?"

He eyed my attire critically for a moment, seemingly coming to the same conclusion I did minutes earlier, and made a beeline for the couch in the back of the lab. Picking up and examining a black mass of fabric, deeming it satisfactory, he tossed it to me. "It's clean enough, I guess."

The thin straps of my mesh top rubbed against a lot of tender skin, leaving pink lines in the wake of it. A sigh of relief escaped me involuntarily when I removed it -

"Woah, woah," Tony squeaked, covering his eyes with an exaggerated gesture. "Warn a man!"

I honestly didn't see what the big deal was. "Tony, chill. I'm pretty sure you've seen it all and then some." I snorted, stretching briefly, shrugging on the slightly oversized hoodie. It smelled like the lab - like Tony, too, but mostly like motor oil and iron. Beggars can't be choosers, however - I had already devised and executed the plan that will let me keep the hoodie.

"When you put it that way..." He smirked, briefly returning to his usual self and giving me a salacious eyebrow wiggle.

I laughed in response, wiggling my hips, feeling the hem of my skirt swish against my thighs. I considered removing the fishnet tights, too, but a brief look in the reflective wall divide between Tony's and Bruce's labs got me pulling out my phone to take two dozen selfies. I looked great with Tony's clothes on.

The engineer chuckled at my antics, coming up behind me as I sat on the floor with my knee raised, chin resting on it. The amber liquid sloshed over the top of his glass, dripping down his fingers. He sat behind me.

"Weller Full Bourbon?" I asked, bringing my nose closer to his fingers to get a good whiff. The distinctive vanilla notes in his whiskey were unmistakable. "Good choice," I made a serious face. "Fancy."

"I can afford it, darling," He snarked back, devoid of malice.

He was so close. And so warm. And I needed a new screensaver. Shuffling back, I reclined against Tony's chest, carefully wedging my head in the crook of his neck.

God help me.

I felt his breath hitch. The dark, magnetic pools of his eyes stared at me from our combined reflection. Tony's eyes were the most expressive, he could fake a smile, he could charm the press and countless investors, but his eyes only spoke the truth. Always. I loved working with Tony because his gaze would light up. It was akin to seeing a little kid on Christmas.

A muscular arm snaked around my waist, pressing my back to his chest. The metal of his arc reactor jabbed uncomfortably between my shoulder blades but there was nowhere else I'd rather be.

"You're filming, Princess," He interrupted my Moment.

"Sure," I answered, not caring. There could be another alien invasion happening and I wasn't able to give a damn.

I felt the vibrant chuckle more than heard; Tony snatched the phone out of my hand without permission. I noticed the furrowed brow when he opened my Instagram and saw the unmistakable evidence of my frequent partying, yet he didn't comment on it.

"Tony, the press is going to go nuts," I raised my eyebrows, seeing what he was planning to do.

"They've seen me doing worse things," He scoffed. And took a photo of us ‘just chilling’ in his lab, hugging. He picked out a filter and everything., and then posted it.

"First of all, I am pretty awesome to be 'doing', I've had only good feedback," I scoffed at his dismissive attitude, using my free hand to make quote marks. Then I turned my head to stare him square in the face. "Steve's going to be pissed and Ms. Potts is going to call to yell at you." I punctuated the statements with a raised eyebrow.

There was really no innocent way the press could represent the photo that he posted. I didn't care for it, my parents wouldn't give a damn (my father probably would encourage it, the free publicity and all). Tony himself didn't seem like the kind of man to care much about some gossip articles, if anything, he enjoyed provoking them into a frenzy. Or at least, he used to.

"I'll put them both on hold. I like to watch the line blink," Tony winked, smirking. "I've been told the press expects me to have a midlife crisis since my last breakup," Eyes darkening, the man swiftly finished off his drink.

Midlife crisis seemed such a bitter way of putting it. Considering my own preferences in romantic partners, I couldn't help but feel offended at the way people offhandedly dished out labels - "midlife crisis", "daddy issues" and so on and so forth. The briefest part of me traveled back to Mr. Davies' living room where - no, I am not going there.

"Huh," I said, coming to a conclusion. A sad one at that.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Princess, but you don't seem like the kind of girl who thinks about pesky things like reputation or consequences," Tony mused idly, coming to a conclusion of his own.

"Nope, I don't give a fuck," I agreed with his opinion wholeheartedly. "If I would have a publicist, they would quit on the second day."

"I pay mine, uh, twice the average amount and they still quit. We're doomed, baby," Tony's gleeful face was mere inches away from my own, whiskey-tipsy and glowing.

I snorted, sliding lower to further burrow into his arms. Tony's sudden touchy-feely mode wasn't lost on me. My own touch starvation overrode any common sense that I had left. The totally-PG (well, not quite) embrace, one armed hug brought me more satisfaction than any of my sexual partners had ever achieved to give me.

"Why are there so many messages from Banner? Are you staging a world domination plan and forgot to include me? I'm hurt!" Tony exclaimed suddenly, a whiny tone to his voice.

"Thor's space yeasts have corrupted our minds with their spores. Soon all will become... Mushroom!" I deepened my voice for the dramatic effect, flailing my arms on the last word for the extra flair.

The man wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye; his eyes were sparkling, laughing even. "I'm evicting Thor and his supremely selfish yeast. How dare it ignore me."

"I vouched for you, I really did," I kept up the silly game. "But alas, the yeasts deemed you too... Boomer," The pride in my voice could barely hold back the laughter threatening to spill.

"Did you just..?" Tony gaped. "Did you just call me old?!"

I attempted to get away, shrieking when the tips of Tony's fingers squirmed along my midsection. "It was the yeast! IT WAS THE YEAST!" My resistance proved to be futile. The engineer had mass and strength on his side, years of piloting and maneuvering the Iron Man suits showing just how quick and nimble he could be when the situation demanded it.

"Take that from an old man!" He exclaimed triumphantly, using his arm to hold down both of my hands from grasping at him. One of his legs held down my own; we were a squirming, writhing mass of limbs in the heat of a tickle fight.

The cocaine in my blood, the mild buzz from being drunk on Tony - my body reacted to the close proximity of the man who occupied my fantasies. I was blushing, breathing heavily, and it wasn't just from the exertion. It should have affected me less, but I struggled to keep my eyes from Tony's face; his own flush, the moist part of his lips.

I wondered how a deer in the headlights felt. Was it hot, like it's body was suddenly alight, or was it cold, liquid nitrogen freezing in its veins?

"Fuck," I mumbled half-coherently.

"What was that?" He arched an eyebrow, clever eyes carefully watching my own.

"I'm in trouble," I chuckled weakly, looking away, pretending to struggle against his arms.

"You're trouble," He announced, grinning. His fingertips slowed, skimming gently along my sides now.

I retaliated with a tentative brush of my foot along the softness of his jean-covered inner thigh. It was euphoric, seeing Tony shudder, the thick eyelashes fluttering for the briefest part of a second.

"We should stop," He whispered suddenly, making a move to disentangle us both. Mixed signals, we've got em, ladies and gentlemen.

"Why?" I was tired of this dance. It was fun but painful. My firm decision of the past still stood: I won't be the lovesick fangirl, I won't be another notch in his bedpost. The resolve was crumbling but it was still there, to some point.

"You're not sober, this is wrong," He mumbled. "I'm more than twice your age, Princess."

That ship had sailed, Tony. If only you knew... "Do you seriously expect me, out of all people, to find common ground with someone my age? Someone like Peter? Jeez," I tried to be amused. If it came out more pleading, I pretended to not notice it. It was the moment of truth. It needed to be said. "I'm FUBAR, Tony. I'm lucky if anyone at all will want to put up with me, much less someone I can stand. I'm spoiled, I'm selfish, and annoying. I know that. I just thought we were friends and you'd be...kinder about it." My mumbling was met with a somewhat perplexed stare.

"I..." His eyebrows threatened to have a close encounter with his hairline. "What the fuck? Are you dead set on giving me a stroke today? I have a heart condition," He yanked me back towards his chest, unceremonious and indignant. "You can be so smart yet so stupid. Gosh, where is the world rolling, I'm quoting Pepper now." He seemed to be muttering to himself.

"Pot, kettle." I didn't resist the urge to snark.

"Right," Tony rolled his eyes. "You're beautiful and all that jazz. You deserve much more than this." Uncharacteristically sad, he pointed to himself, again. "I'm an old man with more issues than Playboy magazine."

"And I'm an angsty teenager with daddy issues, we're a match made in heaven."

"Hell," Tony was eyeing our combined reflection with a sort of petulance. It was hard keeping track of his microexpressions; his eyes and face held fleeting, half-finished thoughts, just like when he was creating, inventing something new.

"Works for me. Lucifer's hot," I answered with my brain on autopilot. He caught my eyes in the shiny glass, trapping me in his calculative gaze.

"The Netflix one or the Supernatural one?" Tony asked, equally absent from the conversation. Neither of us were able to break eye contact, breathing laboured and hearts thudding in our chests. I felt Tony's pulse fluttering under my palm where I'd rested it on his wrist.

The organ that dutifully pumped blood through my own veins and kept me alive threatened to escape my body, jump out of my chest, make its way out my mouth. Tony's unblinking stare penetrated my skin, seeped into the hollow behind my eyelids, ignited a flame within me and froze my thoughts.

"The one with the detective kink," I answered breathily. "I have an affinity for brown-eyed, narcissistic, sarcastic men with self-destructive tendencies," The last part of my sentence was swallowed by Tony's lips.

My brain shorted out, just like that. Bourbon on his breath and a new dose of snark on his tongue, he licked into my mouth with the grace and finesse of years of experience. It was sudden, it was rough, it was fantastic. His beard left marks on my face and I craved the burn of it.

"Fuck," I moaned when we were forced to surface for oxygen. My hips had moved, pressed against his own, prominent arousal digging into the small of my back. Tony had me moaning and grinding into it in mere seconds.

A hand rested on my face with surprising tenderness, turning my face to look at my own reflection. My hair was a mess, lips puffy - Tony wasn't looking any better, hunger and lust in plain view. It was a good look on him.

"Watch," His breath ghosted over the shell of my ear, lips traveling to the nape of my neck to attach themselves to the very sensitive flesh of that area.

I obeyed, gazing at the scene with lidded eyes. Keeping them open was a struggle. My body was flooded with sensation, riding the waves of pleasure like a rollercoaster. I wanted to please him, needed to obey him, to feel him.

My thighs quivered at Tony's touch. There was no warning, no preamble as he wedged a firm hand, separating them quickly to follow the heat. His biceps flexed deliciously. Under my skirt, through the fishnets and the tiny, lacy panties I wore.

"Fucking shit," The man moaned loudly, finding me, predictably, soaking wet. It was one hot, sticky mess between my legs.

The keen that left my mouth might've been embarrassing, yet it only spurred Tony on. Gently parting my lower lips, he gathered the moisture, suddenly withdrawing from me. My confusion met his amusement in the mirror as he stuck the two fingers in his mouth, moaning obscenely and loudly at the taste.

The corners of my mouth lifted, happy. "To-ony," I whined, my pussy aching for more. Now that I had felt the relief and pleasure of his touch, I didn't want it to end.

"Princess," He replied, seriously and sternly. I shuddered at the scratchiness of his voice. The hand that I was missing returned, stroking over the outside of my pussy with broad, soft motions. I arched, presented myself into the touch. "So eager," Tony mumbled into my shoulder, catching a bit of my skin between his teeth.

His fingers dipped deeper, delving in between the puffy, engorged flesh and stroking once, twice, before finding my clit. The pads of Tony's fingers were rough, hardened by manual work and hours spent in front of his inventions, making, tinkering, creating. The friction was perfect. I followed each stroke with a fluid motion of my hips.

"Tony, fuck," I slurred my approval, needing him to know how amazing he made me feel. Tony's form pressed closer, both of us melting, molding into each other.

"Baby girl, what do you need?" His raspy voice tickled my neck. I was sure there would be an array of marks decorating me come morning and absolutely loved the thought. I belonged to Tony Stark, in body and heart and mind and soul.

"I want to cum," I had no shame left. "I want to feel you."

He groaned, rutting into me. A squeak was all I managed to emit as two thick fingers plunged inside of me with a wet squelch. My pussy immediately took hold of the situation, squeezing and rippling around them. I was so close, my nerves pulled up taut like an overtaxed string. The effect this man had on me was positively unholy.

My clit throbbed under his thumb. Tony somehow managed to reach every single sweet spot on my body, effortlessly, easily, like he'd done it a thousand times.

"Ohmyfuckinggod, Tony," I came hard, shuddering, drenching the fingers inside of me. The moment I began sagging in his arms was the moment they tightened around me; I felt Tony grind helplessly against me, saw his own eyes slam shut and his brow furrow.

The hand that was in me withdrew rapidly as he hastily popped the button on his pants, freeing his cock and giving it several desperate tugs. I couldn't see it; I had to settle for the sensation of his hand, his hips rubbing against my clothed back.

He came quickly, with a loud shout. My curiosity got the best of me and I used the brief moment of his weakness to turn around, take a good look at him.

Tony was a fucking mess with a fucking gorgeous cock. Thick and veiny.

My face was level with it before he could have opened his eyes. I wanted, craved to know how he tasted. With gentle kitten licks, I collected the stray drops of cum running down his hand, careful of the rapidly softening, sensitive flesh.

His eyes popped open in surprise. I smiled at him, unseeing, collecting as much of him as I could.

"Fuck, Princess," He breathed. "I'm just a man, I'm pushing fifty," Gently pulling my head away but holding it mere inches from his cock. Indecisive.

I reached over for his hand with my own, popping finger after finger in my mouth, collecting every drop of cum like it was nectar. I could be good...I If properly motivated. The salty musk was all the motivation I needed at that moment. He pulled me in for a filthy, sloppy kiss once I was done, both of us humming, vocalising the shared pleasure.

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#tony stark smut #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x you #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x you #bun writes #party favours #TONY NEVER SHUTS UP YO

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plainlo-inthemorning · 3 years

Text

A Loki TVA / Lokane fic that snatched a tempad. Rating T.

Previously: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (of 6)

Shine a Light, part 4

This time around, he feels but the faintest glimmer of surprise as he steps out of the doorway and onto a busy sidewalk in Midtown Manhattan.

A few people stop dead in their tracks when the door materializes out of thin air, but the throng of commuters headed to and from Central Station is so dense, Loki’s appearance goes mainly unnoticed.

Dull resignation washes over him.

The tempad is officially broken. Its coordinates locked onto this little planet where, in his own timeline, he has known nothing but defeat.

Without bothering to look for a newsstand, he reasons there’s a strong probability it’s the year 2014. It would seem the damn gadget is slowly counting backwards, while refusing to take him anywhere else in the universe.

Above his head, a billboard flashing on the side of a high-rise building confirms his suspicions.

Incredibly though, the tempad still not out of “juice”. The battery life seems to be making a mockery of his failed attempts to direct the itinerary.

Taking a step out of the moving sea of people, Loki sees little in way of construction sites along the street.

On his timeline, this would have been two years after his attack on the city with Thanos’ army, but if that ‘highlight’ of Loki’s less than acclaimed villainous career took place in this reality as well, the mortals have effectively tidied up after him.

He tries not think of the countless faces frozen in terror that had looked up at him.

Of the lives lost because of his crazed ambition to prove himself - and to destroy something of Thor’s.

Almost if Loki had been transformed back into the chronically jealous five-year-old child who once stole his golden, annoyingly joyful, perfect brother’s favorite model toy - a grey wolf made of clay - and deliberately let it roll down the steps of the throne when their father (his NON-father) had been away.

The toy had broken into pieces and Thor had been inconsolable. Gripped by immediate remorse despite his initial intent, Loki had tried to fix it with his budging magic powers. Only for the wolf to melt to a sticky puddle on the stone floor.

Thor had wailed so loudly, a passing servant had thought him seriously injured and called for their mother, and Loki had been made to apologize, his usually pale cheeks burning scarlet. Then he had been grounded for the remains of the day.

The humiliation had stung, and so had the regret that his magic had failed him.

Not for the first time, the anger had turned, unwarranted (Loki knew then too), towards his brother.

From then on, it had just gotten slowly worse and worse and more malicious right up until that horrible moment of rage no more than a few days ago (a week?), when Loki had driven one of his daggers into Thor’s side on top of the Stark tower.

And twisted it.

The mix of bottomless sadness and shock in his brother’s blue eyes had cut through Loki’s heart with such force he might as well have sunk the blade of his other weapon into his own chest.

But instead of abandoning his pathetic scramble for power and hold Thor, instead of attempting to heal the wound with his magic that has become so formidable in adulthood, Loki had let the poison drown the remains of his sanity.

Of course, shortly afterward, the green monstrosity had effortlessly and repeatedly smashed him into the concrete floor of Stark’s living-quarters until Loki had thought he heard every bone in his supposedly immortal (right!) body break and his skull crack open.

To the outside, it had surely been a suitably entertaining show of retribution, but as he had lain there in the crater of rubble, unable to utter a moan, it was as if all the anger had been knocked out of him.

The link to Thanos’ ungodly servant had been severed and Loki had felt more like himself than he had in a long, long time.

When Thor, looking grimmer than ever, had dragged him to his feet in front of the ragtag band of ‘heroes’ and cuffed him, Loki had found himself strangely elated, on the verge of giddy.

His legs had been so shaky from the beating that Thor had had to hold him by the arm so he wouldn’t fall, and Loki had felt the heat of his brother’s huge hand penetrate the many layers of his own armour.

For a few delirious seconds, Loki had wanted nothing more than to lean against his brother’s strong frame and just close his eyes.

Instead, he had started cracking jokes until Thor had slapped the muzzle on him, as if he were some dog (that gesture had embarrassed him more than anything that had gone before). Unable to keep up his sarcastic commentary as they rode the elevator down, Loki had fleetingly wondered if he was suffering from a psychosis or actual brain damage.

Now, standing on the street so close to where it happened, the memory oozes fresh guilt.

But he redeemed himself.

In his mind, Loki goes through the TVA reel once more to remind himself of the images of his brother later in life, smiling at him.

Right before the end came.

If he is to spend the rest of eternity on Midgard - or at least until the multiverse crumbles - he will try to find solace in the good his future self managed to accomplish.

For Thor and, in another, brighter reality, for her.

The riddle of her part in his life now remains unsolved, but as hard as Loki tries to release the ghost wrapped in his arms, it merely squeezes itself closer to his chest.

He could try to find her here, on this timeline.

She will be with Thor, that much is certain, but since the reel of Loki’s fate had shown him only his own path, he knows not whether Thor and Jane shared a life on Midgard, or somewhere else, up until the brothers reunited (for lack of a better word) on Asgard.

What would Loki even say to her?

That, while at the bureau that controls all space and time, he saw her face on a roll of film of his supposed life, and now he aches for her more than anything? That on an alternate timeline a few hours ago, she kissed him?

Thor would not approve of that exchange.

Also, with Loki’s luck, Thor might be a frog in this reality.

He could still try to use the tempad to transport him to Svartalfheim and his own life’s story, seeing as he is now only year from where he feels so strongly he must go.

But finding the proper timeline is like shooting an arrow into the endless vastness of space and hoping it’ll hit the right comet.

He realizes that now.

An arrow.

Somehow, somewhere, on two timelines no less, variants of him had …

Loki’s head jerks up.

The tower.

It’s a desperate idea at best, but from the (very) little Loki knows of his character, Stark’s superior technical skills go hand in hand with an endlessly hungry, inquisitive mind. And pride.

Much like Loki, Stark is a man who needs to be the smartest man in the room. And like Loki, he probably is, most of time (in fact… no. Don’t go there).

Maybe Stark will listen.

Perhaps he can even help make sense of the tempad if Loki can somehow win his trust and appeal to his curiosity and (he winces a little) heroism.

Was it not Loki’s actions who had helped Stark “realize his best potential”, as his TVA file put it?

He spots the imposing structure further up the street, noticing the huge “A” at the top (is that new?), and sets off towards it at a brisk pace, darting in and out of the crowds on the packed sidewalk.

Here goes nothing.

As he reaches the large glass doors he briefly experiences a dizzying deja-vu, when suddenly a man’s voice calls out to him.

A frighteningly familiar, agitated voice.

… With a particular brand of anger bubbling underneath, that Loki had hoped he’d never have to witness up close ever again.

“What the hell are you doing here??”

His dark, curly hair has a few more streaks of silver. The checkered shirt is slightly crumbled, the glasses a bit askew. He clutches an armful of papers to his chest.

And he’s wearing a furious expression although, thank the Norns, a mortal complexion.

For now.

“Didn’t Tony explicitly tell you not to come here?! Are you that intent on causing everyone to lose their shit again?!”

Worry is all over Doctor Banner’s screwed up face.

“Seriously, Loki, is this funny to you? Clint is actually in the building right now and, in case Tony didn’t already inform you, he’s made it very clear that he’s quitting the team if you were to stroll through the front door!”

The Avenger has started shaking, his eyes wild (too wild).

This is heading in the wrong direction fast.

Mustering all the calm in the world despite his racing pulse and the nauseating sounds of bones breaking echoing in his head, Loki puts on his most courteous and, he dearly hopes, un-cocky charming smile.

“Bruce, please relax. I assure you, I’m not here to cause trouble. Not for you or anyone else.”

“Right, you just happened to be in town and wanted to stop by for coffee? Loki, this …”

Loki gently interrupts him.

“I merely came here to have a conversation with S- … Tony. Perhaps you could let him know I’m here? I promise you, I will not set foot inside. In fact - “

Loki adopts the form of one of the security guards he can see pacing inside the foyer.

“… I’m not even here.”

Bruce jumps a little and clutches his papers even tighter.

“Oh god, I hate when you do that, man. If you think showing off that trick makes anyone any less nervous around you…”

“Doctor Banner - Bruce. I have something …”

Loki searches for the words, quickly trying to decide on how much to reveal to the man-beast who’s now looking at him with urgent expectancy.

He sighs and bets it all.

“Okay. Bruce, what I’m going to say will sound mad.”

The man scoffs.

“Coming from you, I’d expect nothing less.”

Bruce shakes his head and looks to the sky in exasperation.

“Please - please - don’t tell me you’ve gone and changed your mind about the whole not conquering Earth business. Really, Loki, none of us understand how transforming you into ‘an asset’ became Tony’s pet project over this past year, or why Fury went along with it. But I’m sure both are going to be pretty damn disappointed if their new alien BFF decides to embrace his inner psycho again.”

Loki almost chuckles. It’s all too ridiculous.

“I won’t … embrace my inner ‘psycho’, I swear.”

“Then what?”

The God of Mischief draws in a deep breath, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Or rather, the security guard’s nose.

Then he surrenders to the absurdity of the situation.

“Bruce, I kindly beg of you, is Tony here? Or … (is there hope?) Thor?”

Bruce still looks at him with deep disdain, but his immediate anger seems to have subsided.

“No, Tony’s out of town. Took Pepper somewhere on holiday. They’re not to be disturbed for at least a week. Her words. And Thor … I should think you of all people know perfectly well why he’s not likely to hang around at the time being. Jeez, you guys and your endless family soap opera … I can’t even.”

Naturally, the universe again blankly refuses to extend any hands to Loki and his doomed quest. Sadly, once again, he is not surprised.

Wait - what?

“What do you mean, ‘soap opera’?”

Bruce looks like he’s about to throw his hands over his head and all the papers with them.

“Oh, come on! What is this?! You want approval? Confirmation of your little victory? Doesn’t the very lovely embodiment of that currently walk around in your apartment or wherever it is you live now? Loki, I’m done here. You have to leave. Bye.”

To hell with Stark – Loki wants to grab Bruce by his shirt collar and shake the little man till he explains what in all of Yggdrasil he’s talking about.

But he cannot afford to tempt the beast. Quite literally.

“Then … can you and I go somewhere to talk? Bruce, you’re a man of science. This is science … related.”

Loki feigns a smile.

Bruce sizes him up. No doubt considering whether to let the other guy continue the conversation.

Then his shoulders drop.

“Okay. Okay. For a creepy megalomaniac, you somehow tend to end up with some very cool people defending your case. Just know that those people are absolutely the only reason, you and I are still talking. Ugh, I’m too nice … “

Bruce casts a glance over his shoulder into the foyer, appearing to consider their options, when a man exits the glass doors – and shuffles up to them.

“Bruce! How nice to see you. You look well.”

The old man (those eyes …) grins warmly and pats Bruce on the back, then looks from him to Loki and back again.

“Everything alright out here? Is there a security issue?”

Bruce composes himself and smiles back.

“Hi, Lee, good to see you too. All fine. Earl here was just updating me on, eh, the new security procedures.”

He shoots Loki a stern look.

“Ah, yes”, Loki nods seriously. “Doctor Banner had some trouble operating the intricate open and close mechanism of the doors. The elevator doors, especially.”

He can’t help himself. It’s somehow both immensely tragic and life-affirming.

“Oh?” The old man raises an eyebrow (he looks … but he’s not quite …something is off).

“Will I have to get a new security card? I rarely come in these days, but in case …”

“No, no, that won’t be necessary, Lee. Because, because … like you say, you’re hardly ever here, so …”

Still smiling awkwardly, Bruce waves a dismissive hand, almost dropping the stack of papers (the man’s a terrible liar, Loki thinks).

“Speaking of”, Banner continues, “you must be enjoying retirement up there, huh, Lee? Must be nice to live by the sea. Good … air quality?”

Loki sighs inwardly.

The dog sniffing at his ankles looks up at him.

He stares down at the round, fluffy thing as if seeing it for the first time.

Which he is and he isn’t.

The old man is saying something to Bruce about the countryside, when he notices the dog wagging its tail at Loki’s feet.

“Oh, he likes you. You’re lucky, he normally doesn’t care for strangers. No, you don’t, do you Fenris”, the man coos.

Under coats of thick white fur, the animal looks eagerly from owner to Loki.

“Okay, well, I’ll be off,” the old man says, finally. “Come see me sometime, Bruce. My neighbor actually just put his house on the market, in case you’re looking for a weekend retreat…”

He nods at Bruce, then at Loki who barely notices. The dog whines unhappily at being dragged away.

It’s the same timeline.

Of course, it is. The tempad has locked itself on a sequence.

But why the different locations …?

“Yes, thank you, Lee. Take care now. Earl, shall we?” Bruce signals to Loki to follow him round the side of the building.

“We can continue our discussion about the security issue in the garage”.

“So, let’s hear it. Tell me what you came to say, so I can tell you why it’s a catastrophically bad idea.”

Bruce sits himself across the small table from Loki and dumps the stack of papers in front of him. The top sheet is covered in coffee mug rings.

They are in an anonymous, windowless office somewhere below the vast tower parking lot and numerous in-house repair shops.

The place is a gigantic maze and Loki has just shut himself in a tiny room with the very monster that turned him into ragdoll. The deep slash on his forehead has only just healed.

He does not fear many beings in the universe, but the mild-mannered doctor’s alter ego makes the hit list with the worst of them.

Ignoring the way the hairs on the back of his neck stand up (why did this seem like a good idea?), Loki drops his disguise and takes a seat on the cheap plastic chair. Not much of that flashy Stark glamour down here.

“Okay.” Loki takes out the tempad and puts it in the middle of the table.

He is not quite sure where to start, so he decides to begin with the purely technical aspect.

Bruce might appreciate being given a few ‘scientific’ details before any mentions of giant smoke monsters and alligators.

In fact, the fewer magical creatures and castles in the sky, the better.

“This is called a tempad. It’s a device that makes it possible to travel anywhere in time. You type in your destination, and a doorway opens. I did not make it myself. It was, er, given to me by a large and very powerful organization … in space.”

Bruce is leaning forward to get a better look at the tempad but makes no attempt to reach for it.

As he’s says nothing, Loki continues.

“This is where it gets, uh, weird, but try to believe me when I tell you, I’m not the Loki you know. I’m from another, similar timeline and -“

“Stop.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just stop, Loki.”

Bruce is leaning back on his chair again. He looks tired.

“I don’t know if you’re supremely bored of domestic bliss already, or just being your supremely annoying self, but I won’t engage. You’re not Loki but a time-traveler from space? Yeah, it’s -“

“No, Bruce, I am Loki. Trust me, I know this seems -“

“Trust? You wanna talk about trust again?” Bruce takes out his phone.

“Okay, we can do that.”

He taps a few buttons, then holds the phone to his ear.

“What are you doing?” Loki’s voice has a sharper edge to it than he intended.

The Avenger stares him down.

“Oh, I’m just calling someone. This guy I have in my contacts under God of Lies”.

Please, no …

Briefly, Loki considers whether another variant of him – the one he encountered at the house by the ocean, most likely – would actually be of more help.

Or if he, the variant, would try to kill him.

It was one thing reasoning with and trying not to get killed by Loki variants who at least understood the concept of variants, but how would he have reacted upon being confronted with a twin before the TVA?

No, not a twin … Because this variant has her.

None of the variants in the Void – the grown-up, human ones – had mentioned versions of her.

Either this variant has successfully taken out every Minute Man ever sent by the TVA to arrest him (in which case, Loki concedes, he may be the superior Loki), or this whole timeline has only just blossomed at the opening of the multiverse.

Why else would he, who apparently also gave his phone number to Bruce Banner, get to live a life so vastly different from the typical arc of a misguided Jotun prince?

Loki feels light-headed.

On one hand, he wants to know everything there is to know about his double, on the other, he fears what and who he might find.

You don’t belong here. Find your own timeline. No more Lokis.

Focus. Explain.

He raises his one hand in a placating gesture.

“Give me a little time to try and explain this, Bruce, and then, then … You can call whoever. Call everyone! But please just -“

“Oh, what do you know,” Bruce puts his phone down, “there’s no answer. What a surprise.”

He crosses his arms.

Loki inhales and tries again, speaking as evenly and as calmly as he can while his frustration mounts:

“There is no way of telling you all or any of this without it sounding utterly ludicrous, so you’ll have to hear me out. Five minutes uninterrupted from now, okay? Yes, we’re talking time travel, but compared to what’s really at stake, even time travel is a pretty basic technicality. Also, I promise you, in a few years’ time from now, the concept of time travel won’t seem all that laughable to you and Stark in particular. Provided this reality exists in a few years’ time seeing as -“

Bruce sighs dramatically.

“Yes, okay, so”, Loki continues, “Two years ago, I attacked New York, right?”

“If you’re about to roll out some outlandish excuse – another one! – I don’t care to hear it.”

The other man is narrowing his eyes as a fresh look of undistilled loathing creeps into his features.

So it did happen on this timeline as well.

“No, it’s not that. Or, I mean, let’s save that. When you captured me, in my timeline, I escaped from the lobby with the Infinity stone. I know it seems impossible from your end of events but - “

“Impossible?”

Bruce gives him a strange look Loki can’t quite interpret.

“Yes, S… Tony dropped the briefcase with the Infinity stone, and I picked it up and -“

Bruce pushes his chair back. The plastic scrapes loudly against the stone tiles of the floor.

“Loki, I can’t. I thought I had the patience to at least indulge you but turns out I don’t. I can’t tell if you’re losing your mind, but either way, you’ll have to take it – this, whatever it is – up with Tony instead when he gets back. Maybe bring that sweet lab partner of yours along if you’re going to talk time travel. With her field of expertise, I’m sure - “

“WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!”

Without thinking, Loki slams both his hands into the table. Papers go flying and Bruce staggers backwards.

Horror dawns as Loki realizes his error, but it’s already too late.

Bruce doubles over in spasms and a deep, much too deep, growling sound escapes his lips. He grips his head with his shaking hands as if trying to contain the explosion within, and Loki feels his own brain go numb with panic as one of those hands triples in size and a sickly green hue rapidly spreads.

There is no way out.

Bruce is blocking the door and soon his bulk will be taking up the entire room. He falls to his knees, arms thrashing wildly and his shirt ripping across his back. The table sails over Loki’s head, one of the chairs lodges itself in the soundproofed ceiling, causing the panels of fluorescent light to flicker madly.

Are there no security cameras?!

There are screams, but they no longer sound human.

Loki has nowhere to hide.

He has to gather his magic around him, but terror is completely scattering his focus, cold sweat breaking out all over his body.

It is a matter of seconds before the transformation will be complete and the monster attempts to tear him limb from limb. With no heroes to stop it.

Cold.

He has only consciously reached for it once before, but now the thought barely registers before ice rushes through him as if by instinct. Bruce is not the only one with an abomination lurking under the surface.

He doesn’t have the casket of his birth father, but he has strength.

There is no time to consider if it’s enough or nothing at all. No time for crippling self-loathing or shame.

In front of him, the Hulk lifts its crazed, bloodshot eyes to meet his.

The green creature cannot stand upright in the office, and the first fist goes through the ceiling with the force of a wrecking ball. The next lashes out at Loki, who dodges it just as his own skin turns a deep, brilliant blue.

Little black ridges and markings rise on his arms and face and though his sight doesn’t falter, he feels the instant his eyes go from green to bright red. The fabric of his clothes chafes his new skin and waves of adrenaline surge through his body. Multiple foreign senses come alive and drown his fear.

But he has not a breath to spare to get used to his true form before the Hulk shoves him against the wall so hard, the bricks shift against his side as if they were made of a child’s building blocks.

The impact makes him gasp for air, yet the pain … the pain he can manage.

He just has to last long enough get out of here. And the cold is crystalizing his focus to let the magic flow easily, powerfully through his hands.

His blue hands.

If he had used this when …

Loki pushes himself off the wall (out of it) and almost collides with the Hulk (there’s no space left to maneuver in) who, instead of smashing its way out, seems hell-bent on squashing the only living thing in its line of sight first.

Loki swiftly crouches down on one knee, puts his palms together and, faster than the blink of a brilliant crimson eye, conjures a rotating orb of ice and chaos energy that explodes in a blinding flash of white light as he hurls it square into the monster’s chest.

The Hulk falls back, breaking through the wall to the parking lot on the other side and crashing into a row of cars, while a sheath of ice spreads from its chest and up its neck. The being that is not Bruce howls and claws at its skin, but the smooth ice thickens and as it reaches the head of the beast, it slides right into its eye sockets – and momentarily blinds it.

It will probably only last seconds but it’s all Loki needs while the Hulk shakes its head furiously.

He makes to flee when he spots the tempad on the cracked floor.

He can’t leave it.

As Loki dives for the gadget, the Hulk simultaneously knocks itself in the face with both fists, splintering the ice into a rain of tiny spikes. With a roar to match the sound of a spaceship engine taking off, the creature lunges.

Loki’s fingers close around the tempad.

He feels a buzz.

The door appears in front of him.

He doesn’t stop to think before throwing himself through it.

The Hulk punches into empty air.

Part 5

#loki #loki series #tva loki #lokane fanfic #lokane ff #lokane #loki x jane #marvel #loki ff #loki fanfic #shine a light #plainlo inthemorning #loki laufeyson

17 notes · View notes

icyymocha · 3 years

Text

With You

Warnings: Fluff, Angst if you squint, mentions of character deaths

Word Count: 3,879

Passing through the busy day of New York City in Manhattan. The harsh cold winds clouded the sun, making the sky diminished. Steve passes through crowded streets, running late on a Wednesday, to the meeting he and his two best friends had planned. Clouds of ice-cold air follow shortly with him as he huffs and pants. Steve didn’t think his daily morning running would take longer than usual and now he regrets doing it, knowing full well Bucky and Sam would tease him about being late. Many, ‘I’m sorry,’ ‘Excuse me,’ ‘Sorry!’ repeats almost like a broken record. Steve would have opted to jump on buildings or his motorcycle but he was an idiot. He thought he could get away with passing time as he walked and enjoyed the new surroundings of New York City that had overwhelmed him because it was so, so different. He was different. But Time beat him faster.

Steve racked his brain for any possible quicker ways to get through Manhattan. Vaguely, does he remember Tony telling him every shortcut of New York City, and whenever he needs a quick lift—always take the shortcut to the freeway. Sooner than later, he was already on the freeway thanks to his super-soldier serum. Running past even more crowded groups, he locked eyes with someone else. For a moment, time stopped and Steve felt like his whole body was already filled with warmth. No… It can’t be…. The stranger’s eyes widen as well as if they read his thoughts as well. Steve shook his head. He must’ve been hallucinating. Besides, he would’ve dealt with it later as he was past the late marking point of his meeting with his friends.

But, something inside of him told him to look back. Looking back, Steve looked at the stranger again. Sensing his stare, they bore into his eyes. There it was. That warmth again. It trickled down his back, feeling the tingling sensation when he was welcomed back home again by his mom back in the ’40s. The same warmth when his mom made him his favorite sweets as she covered him in a blanket, a home where she knew he would be the safest. When all Steve knew was the oven’s warmth and the sweet aroma fueled with baked pastries. It felt like home again.

His feet carried on by themselves, walking towards the stranger. His mouth was dried up and his body ignited something within him, standing in front of them. Steve wondered if this stranger felt the same warmth he felt. He tried to speak but the words were all jumbled up in his throat. His mind was racing with millions of possibilities. A small hope that this stranger was his soulmates. Before any words were spilled from Steve’s mouth, the stranger beat him by a millisecond.

“Do...Do you feel it too?” they whispered, almost if they said it too loudly, Steve would’ve disappeared; A small hope glimmered in their eyes. Nodding his head, Steve chuckled shakily. The stranger’s eyes widened again before narrowing their eyes. “Oh? Then what does it felt like?” They quizzed. Steve understood why they were suspicious but deep down, he felt slightly hurt that his possible soulmate doesn’t trust him. Steve took a shaky breath before clearing his throat.

“It—it felt like coming home to the smell of baked goods. The warm feeling when your mom bakes it for you, knowing you had a bad day, and having a soft blanket wrapped around you. It’s the only place you feel the safest in. It felt like home.” Steve said in one breath. Their hardened eyes softened at his (tears swelled in their eyes). Steve’s breath hitched when the stranger places their hand on his face, caressing it lovingly. The warmth flared and cooled down instantly. “It’s you. Oh my god, I found my soulmate...I-” They choked out. Steve smiled, having a few tears slip out. His soulmate noticed and gently swiped the tears away. “It’s me, don’t worry,” he reassured in a hushed tone. "We really did find each other in such odd timing, didn’t we,” the stranger joked. Steve chuckled.

“My name’s y/n l/n, your soulmate,” y/n answered. Grabbing their hand, Steve planted a kiss on the back of their hand. “My name’s Steve Rogers. It’s a pleasure to finally meet my soulmate,” Steve said, charming his way to their heart with ease. He felt the warmth again, only this time it has gotten hotter when his soulmate blushed. “Such a gentleman,” they said quietly.

It felt way too good to be in the presence of his soulmate but just when things started to be on Steve’s side. He was already sinking back to reality. Steve’s eyes widened. He had forgotten all about his day with Bucky and Sam. But, having found his soulmate in the oddest places, he contemplated his decisions. Sensing his panic, y/n decided to grab a pen out of their coat. Steve looked at them questioningly. What are they doing— oh.

Why didn’t he thought about that?

Finishing writing their number inside Steve’s palm, they smiled teasingly. Steve’s face was flustered. “I hate to cut this short, but dinner at 9? Well— if you’re up for it, I know our lives could be-” Steve was cut off when y/n kissed his cheek. He raised his eyebrows; the blush deepened...

“Meet me at the Avengers tower—or uh I mean, the Stark Tower?” Steve stutters. Y/n raised their eyebrows before nodding.

“I’d like that,” their lips quirked up with the idea of going on a date with their soulmate. They quickly let go of Steve’s embrace before waving goodbye. Steve frowned at the loss of contact and the loss of the warmth he was already getting used to. Nonetheless, he quickly bid his goodbye and ran past the freeway.

After what felt like hours had passed (which was Steve’s fault) Bucky and Sam saw a broad figure running towards him. Finally.

“You’re late Steve,” Bucky grumbled

“No need to point out, captain obvious,” Sam rolled his eyes, hating every second he's with Bucky. (Secretly he enjoys the super soldier’s company). Bucky rolled his eyes. Steve panted and grinned sheepishly.

“‘sorry, I got caught up in my daily morning runs, I didn’t keep track of how much time I spent wandering around New York. I also found my soulmate—“

“YOU FOUND YOUR WHAT NOW” Oh, now both of his best friends are interested in what he has to say right now. Steve rolled his eyes, annoyed he was cut off.

“I found my soulmate” Steve deadpanned. Bucky and Sam’s jaws dropped open. The shock was an understatement. But finding your soulmate is difficult because they could be anywhere around the world.

“Man, you’re so lucky” Sam complimented. He crossed his arms as he looked away. Bucky snorted. Sam looked back and glared at Bucky. Steve tilted his head, confused. “Sam is just being a baby that we both found our soulmates,” Bucky smirked. Narrowly dodging Sam’s weak attempts of punches. Steve's face turned in O. He patted Sam’s back in sympathy. “Don’t worry Sam, it’s not too late to find your soulmate,” Steve reassured. Sam locked eyes with him before grumbling ‘yeah, you’re right.’

“Where is your soulmate right now Steve?” Bucky questioned. His intense staring gets Steve a bit uncomfortable.

“I, uh, left them on the freeway hurriedly trying to meet you guys.” Steve coughed awkwardly.

Cue, an awkward tension between the three men’s

“WHAT!?!” They both said in unison

“WHY’D YOU LEFT THEM STEVE???”

“MAN, I DIDN’T THINK YOU BE THAT STUPID”

“Guys…”

“YOU COULD’VE TOLD US ABOUT IT”

“WE WOULD’VE BEEN FINE WITHOUT YOU”

“GUYS!” Steve shouted. Bucky and Sam’s eyes widened before shutting up. Steve frowned.

“I know I left them, but we’d agree to meet up at Stark Tower or rather the Avengers tower? for dinner at 9,” He explained. Another awkward silence.

“But uh, I don't know where to take them for dinner…” Steve’s hands snaking up to his neck as he looks away from the two men. Bucky and Sam mentally facepalmed.

“I knew you always sucked at planning dates, Steve”

“Although I don’t like to admit it, Bucky is right,”

Steve sighed. He’s gonna regret saying this.

“Well don’t you help me plan it?” Steve asked. The ex-assassin and the avenger looked at each other with a knowing look. They glanced at Steve with a mischievous smile—err smirk.

“Don’t worry Punk, we’ll help out” Bucky smirked

“Yeah, you can always count on us,” Sam said with a Cheshire smile

And Steve is already regretting his day

Night had just settled in and the three men were arguing. You see, Bucky was irritated at his best friend who wasn’t coming out of the bedroom. He fought tooth and nail to get Steve to wear something he thought would suit him. Sam and Bucky were arguing about where Steve should take his soulmate out for dinner. The rest of the avengers were betting how much it would take for the three men to bear at each other’s throat; especially Bucky and Sam.

Natasha had enough. She stood up and sneaked behind Sam as she pulled him by the ear. She also pulled Bucky by the ear as well. Both men didn’t dare to do anything knowing full well what Natasha is capable of. She scowled at them before scolding them.

Steve peaked his head out of the hallway only seeing Bucky and Sam getting an earful from Natasha and the others holding. He cleared his throat for everyone to have their attention on him. A lot of eyes were on Steve. He felt shy under their stares. Nonetheless, Steve had his hair done, nearly swept. He had a button-down flannel shirt, his sleeves rolled out and tucked into his dark denim jeans. And his classical leather jacket neatly folded in his arms.

“How do I look?” He questioned, twirling around to give them a better view of his outfit. His boots clanking thudding on the carpets. Many wolf whistles and claps were heard in the living room.

“Sweet Jesus, you’re one good looking man Steve,” Sam whistled, others agreeing with his statement

Steve gave a bashful smile. Shying away from the compliments. Tony came up to him, handing him two VIP cards. He looked at the billionaire bemused.

“VIP cards for this one dinner that’s styled from the ‘40s. Thought you might like it Capsule,” Tony grinned while Steve shoved him playfully. But Steve softened his gaze at Tony and thanked him. Tony waves as if it was nothing “Besides, my idea was better than any of the two brain rots of a bird brain and Manchurian Candidate,” Tony gave a smug look at Bucky and Sam, jokingly goes behind Natasha when he saw the small twitch of movement in Bucky’s foot while Sam glared at him.

Mr. Rogers, there’s someone named y/n outside waiting for you. They said you made plans with them for dinner. Friday chimes in.

It’s time, Steve thought. Everyone gave him a thumbs up and Steve walked towards the exit of the elevator.

“WAIT—“ Bucky hollered

Steve halts his movements, looking at Bucky who hastily grabbed the bouquet of roses. He gave Steve a cheeky smile. Steve thanked him and hustled outside. It took a few minutes for the elevator to come front, but he was there. Stepping out of the front door of the tower, he tapped y/n’s shoulder. The bouquet of roses behind his back. Y/n turned around to see who it was and beamed when it was their soulmate. That warmth comforted Steve. He felt his body get warm once more before it cooled.

“Hey there handsome,” they purred,

“What ’cha got there?” They asked, peeking behind his back. Steve shuffled, adjusting the bouquet so they wouldn't see it. After a moment of struggle, he decided to just show them.

“Here, it’s for you,” He handed the bouquet of roses in their direction. You held a moment of a surprise then an amusing smile appeared on your lips.

“Old fashion huh? Awe, I like it” you said teasingly, before sniffing the sweet aroma of roses. Steve grinned ear to ear, happy to know that you liked it the old-fashioned way. He held out his arm for you, waiting for your permission.

“You are such a gentleman,” you replied, linking your arm with his. The other hand holding the bouquet.

“I tried my best,” He replied coyly, heading to the desired destination for their date.

Soon enough times flew very quickly. The couple was walking under the moonlight after a wonderful dinner date that Tony reserved for them. As they were walking, Steve couldn’t help but take glances at them. The way the moonlight shines on them, their eyes sparkling as they talk about something they’re passionate about. How happy they sounded, the way their hand moves to empathize their emotions and feelings. They were such a beauty. Compared to the stars, they were the ones who shined brighter.

“Steve?....” Y/n waved a hand in front of Steve’s vision. Breaking out of his thoughts, he gave them a small smile.

“My apologies, you’re just beautiful I couldn’t help but pay attention to your beauty,” Steve apologized. Loving the way, their face flushed as red as their lipstick. How bashful they get whenever he compliments them. When their breath hitches and looks away from him. He can see their ears are bright red. Steve thinks he likes this look on them. No, he knows he loves it deep down inside.

“Would you like me to take you home?”

“No no it’s okay, you’ve done enough Steve,” they replied. Waving their hand as if it was nothing.

Steve held a worried look. He was concerned that something might happen to his soulmate. It was late, to begin with, midnight at its finest—anyone or anything could hurt them and he didn’t want that. He couldn’t have that. He doesn’t want to think of the possibilities that might happen to them; he’ll probably blame it on himself if anything happens to you

Seeing his concerned look, you caved in. You’d be lying if you didn’t like the way his little pout and when his brow burrows concentrated and waiting for you to change your mind. He was like a golden retriever. It was flattering, to say the least.

“Alright, you win” you sighed quietly. Your lips twitching upwards when Steve gave you a huge grin and couldn’t help but laugh when he kissed the back of your hand dramatically. Moments later, both of you were standing in front of the door, savoring the quiet moment between the two of you. You study how his blue eyes have different shades of blue; how it gets lighter when he talks about his hobbies and friends and Bucky? And how his eyes darkened whenever he doesn’t like something or the stress of being an avenger.

“I guess this is goodbye?” You frowned but quickly smiled, looking up at the blonde man

“Yeah, I guess so…” Steve towered over you. Hovering inches away from your face. He glanced at your lips then back to your eyes asking for permission. Nodding your head; afraid of using your voice. Granting your permission, he took your chin and softly kissed you. You fluttered eyes closed as you wrap your eyes around his neck, his arms snaking up to wrap around your waist. It was passionate and delicate.

You both break apart to breathe. Once again looking up into his blue eyes, a clear light blue brightens with satisfaction.

“Wow,” he whispered breathily. His whole body erupted in euphoria just from one kiss

“...Yeah” you chuckled. Chest heaving as you gave him one last peck, turning to open your door.

As you went in, you peaked your head out of the door.

“See you soon?” You asked, giving the super-soldier one last smile, the blonde nodded eagerly

“Yeah, see you soon darling” Steve smiled sweetly, bidding his goodbye to you, you closed your door.

Y/n slid down as soon as they locked their front door. Blushing fiercely, they can still feel the kiss still tingling on their lips, as they grin from ear to ear. Happiness bubbling inside of their stomach and tears swelling up in their eyes. They can feel Steve’s warmth radiating on their body, like a warm blanket wrapped around them. His warmth never left theirs.

As for Steve….

He gushed about it in his diary, happy to know that he can still feel the warmth of his soulmate and the sensation of their soft lips against his. His hands were shaking as he tried to write in his diary, too happy to write anymore. The ink spilled as the door slammed open. Steve glared at the intruders in his bedroom. There and behold were the avengers and two smug best friends of his.

“So? How did it go?” Bucky asks, wiggling his eyebrows at Steve,

“Did you guys do the dirty?” Tony smirked, only to get a smack against the head by Natasha. “Jesus Tony, can you not?” Nat complained. Tony rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue

Steve sighed. He knew this would happen.

“It went wonderful,” Steve said with a dreamy sigh

Steve couldn’t bear to scold them as he was too caught up in his head. “See you soon?” You had asked him, that smile of yours. The way it made your eyes crinkled and how your hair fell and framed your face perfectly. It was captivating. You were just so beautiful. Steve knew he had to plan another date with you and so on. He just knew he had to.

“And we lost him. Steve is too far gone on cloud nine,” Sam laughed, the rest agreed with him as they all laughed as well.

Before you or Steve know it. Years have passed by quickly and it went on from two dates, then thrice, then fourth, and so on. You and Steve were still dating after all the chaos of aliens, robots, wizards, and Hydra was taking over. The couple couldn’t be more grateful that you both had survived for this long. After all the hardships, fights and arguments, sad moments, and happy memories. You both are still here today.

After bringing you and everyone back from the snap, almost everyone had gotten their happy endings. All of you shed tears for the most utterly bravest people of them all. Tony Edward Stark and Natalie Romanoff. They were both of you and Steve’s greatest friends, and closest as family. It was heartbreaking. They sacrificed themselves just to save the world, and you’ll be damned if anyone says they aren’t worthy. They’re the most worthy people you could’ve ever met and you’re so grateful for the memories you had made with Tony and Natasha. They were like your brother and sister you never had.

After the funerals for Tony and Nat, everyone parted ways but still kept in touch with anyone, especially if it meant they needed to come together to save the world. The Stark family still wept with sadness but continued on Tony and Iron Man’s legacies as he would’ve wanted. Thor and Bruce created their place in their new home with Valkyrie as the new queen of New Asgard. Nick Fury, Captain Marvel, and everyone else went back to work for shield or finding their own superhero path. Bucky got the best therapist he needs, yet he still works by Sam’s and your guys’ side. Sam became an avenger. He and Bucky begin helping each other with the case of super soldiers that may be related to Hydra. Steve had asked if they needed help but they continually rejected his offer.

“Punk you need to help out with your wife, you have a third kid coming soon” Bucky exasperated, Sam nodding along as well.

“He’s right. Bucky and I can handle it” Sam said

Steve raised an eyebrow at the two men, knowing both men will tear at each other’s throat most of the time

“Okay, most of the time we can handle it,” Sam rolled his eyes at Steve’s questioning

You giggled

“Alright, but you both know where to find us right?” you smiled. They both nodded. You looked at Steve and nudged his side, one hand on your noticeably bump

“C’mon big guy, we don’t want our two kids burning the kitchen down, don’t we? We know what happened like last time?” You eye-side at Sam and Bucky. They both surrender with their hands up jokingly. Steve chuckled

“Alright, let’s go home, darling,”

Shortly, you guys made it home. Both of you collapsed on the couch, exhausted. The small patter of feet came running and Steve groaned at the extra weight on him. He peeked one eye open only to see his two children.

They both smiled mischievously. Your son has Steve’s hair and eyes while he has your smile and nose. While your daughter was quite the opposite; she had your hair and nose, and has Steve’s eyes and smile. They were both beautiful. After all, you and Steve created them both. The two kids tucked in their respective spot; Sarah next to her father, and James carefully next to his mother. The precious moment was peaceful and quiet. Until Steve decided to break it.

“I told you I wasn’t crazy, I told you it’s fate,”

“Remember that day as I lay here with you? When I met you—my soulmate, in such odd timing in New York? ‘So happy you weren’t busy, I’m glad that you stayed with me after all these times”

“You know, I still feel the same,” You told him. Steve nodded.

“Yeah...I still feel the same warmth you brought here for me,”

“I still love you, and I always will—hey, I know I know, I love you too kiddos. Even you who’s not born yet .” Steve uttered, full of love and adoration as he looked at the kids and you and your growing belly. Being pregnant, you were emotional. But you didn’t care as tears slipped. Steve wiped the tears, cradling your face. Your daughter and son tried comforting you by hugging you. You laughed and kissed your son and your daughter.

“And I still love you—I will always love you and the kids, Steve” You replied. Kissing Steve in return. (Ignoring the way your kids groan and complain).

The couple laughed at their kids' antics. Steve watched the way his daughter and son cuddled with his wife. His gaze was relaxed and soft.

A family with you and three kids. This is all Steve ever wanted. All he ever needed. Before it was just two hearts on a cold street. But now, he has you, his kids, and another one coming so soon. For you and the kids, he would travel to outer space and take a bullet to the heart just to keep his little family safe. For you and the kids—Steve would do anything for you. To protect what he loves the most.

As long as he’s with you, he can accomplish anything.

For you…

41 notes · View notes

babylooneytoonz · 3 years

Text

Author's Note: I got this as a request, but decided to turn this into a fic. Thank you to whoever this person was who requested it. 💗

Summary: Your first meeting with Sergeant Barnes wasn't exactly charming, hell, it was a disaster. And the only adjectives that came to your mind when you thought about him were words like prick, bastard and a jackass. He made your life hell, and you lived to make sure you made him suffer. And neither of you realized, how your sole mission of tormenting each other became the most important part of your life.

Set somewhere after Avengers Civil War. My book does not follow the storyline, and will not include the events of Infinity War and Endgame. I do not take credit for any of the characters, except for my OC/Reader.

Warnings: 18+ [Will include SMUT, curses and violence] // Bucky Barnes is an ass

Coffee Stains - Masterlist

Coffee Stains

You almost didn't realize how late it was; the sun had set hours back, and the moon was now shining bright, pale white glow radiating from its cheeks like White ivory spread over the ground outside. You finally decided to stop working, and instead head home. So, you shut your laptop, pushing your glasses over the bridge of your nose, and finally stood up. The SHEILD headquarters was still hustling and bustling with people. People kept walking past your office door, most of them in a hurry as you joined them in the hallway, making your way towards the elevator.

Your father had worked for SHEILD, having been one of the building blocks, along with Nick Fury, and now you, being his daughter, there was nothing more you had ever wanted to do but to dedicate yourself entirely to SHEILD. So here you were, associated with SHEILD, for almost two years now.

You didn't realize when in the bubble of your mind, the kinesis of your thoughts, a woman had stepped out of her office and was making her way towards you, but not after having called your name almost three times. When she reached the elevator, she let out a soft huff, which was enough to finally put you out of your trance.

"Maria, I'm sorry, didn't see you there," you retorted, a little flustered and pink at the cheeks.

The woman almost gave you a tight lipped smile, and slowly, her long, slender arms came to cross on her chest, her left foot almost tapping against the tiled floor of the headquarters, "I've been calling your name, you didn't respond. You alright?"

You thought for a moment, your glossy eyes looking down at her feet before back up on her face again, and nodded, "Yeah, yeah, just thinking. Is there anything you needed?"

"Not me, Fury wanted to see you before you left."

You nodded, pursing your lips slightly and gave her a ghost of a smile before taking a step back and craning your neck towards Fury's office once and then back, " Well then, I guess I'll pay the boss a visit." The two of you exchanged a light hearted chuckle, and you waved Maria off as she stepped into the elevator with two more agents, and you slowly made your way up to Nick Fury's office.

You stood awkwardly at the glass door, bringing your palm up to the glass and knocking on it. Inside the office, the bald headed man with a patch on one of his eyes slowly looked up, and when he saw you, a hint of a smile broke out on his lips as he nodded, and you stepped in.

"You wanted to see me?"

You and Fury shared an easy going relation; he reminded you of your dad, for the two of them had served together before your dad was killed in action, and ever since, Nick Fury had taken it upon him, to watch over you like a father figure.

"Come on in Y/N, I wanted to speak to you."

Shutting the door, you walked up to where he was seated and slowly lowered yourself on the empty chair in front of him, your elbows coming to rest on the surface of the desk.

"So– " He began, sitting back more comfortably, and also to keep a better eye at your expressions and reactions, "With Natasha Romanoff out on a mission, the Avengers are in need of a dire back up agent."

Your eyebrow shot up at his words, not understanding where he was getting at. As though he sensed your confusion, he continued, "A position is open. The Avengers are looking for someone to join the team. And I recommended your name."

It was as though your ears managed to block out every word that Fury said except for the part that he had recommended your name. Avengers had only been a distant dream for you till now. They really intrigued you; and you had done your research on almost everyone of them, except for the newbies of course that you hadn't had the chance to meet. Your lips parted in surprise, and a soft gush of air managed to escape your lips.

"Fury, I – I don't know."

"They asked us for the best we've got, and although it's been a long time we've sent you on our mission, you're the best we've got. I couldn't say no," he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood for he was now able to sense that you were starting to get nervous.

"Holy shit." You finally managed to form words, not the best choice of words that you could have formed, but you were so surprised, you didn't know what to say.

"Rest up, Y/N. Tomorrow, we go to the Avengers Towers, and meet your new team."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

The next day, you woke up earlier than you usually did, but you knew that it was your part excitement part anxiety bubbling up that had kept you tossing and turning in bed all night. You had gone over all the possible scenarios that could happen today, at the Avengers Towers, on why the Avengers would think that you weren't cut out for this. You were really good, there was no doubt about that; you were trained in hand to hand combat, espionage, you were good with weapons, with the small guns and also the big ones; you could say you were pretty good with your sniping skills. But, you hadn't been on a mission for the SHEILD in a long time, especially not after your messy divorce with Wallis, your ex husband who had been your colleague and your partner at SHEILD, the one person you always went on missions with. It had taken you a long time to come out of the emotional trauma that came with a separation, and to worsen it all, he had been the one that you had caught with another woman in your bed, on a night you almost escaped death, on one of your solo missions.

You were already dressed and ready by the time you were picked up and dropped off at the Stark Towers, with Fury by your side.

You wouldn't lie if you would say that you were starstruck, by just a look at the exterior of it. It was heavenly. And the interior. You didn't even want to comment on it, it was that breathtaking, a complete opposite to the SHEILD headquarters.

"Like it?" Fury chuckled next to you, breaking your thought process, and a faint hue of a blush to grace your cheeks. As the two of you got into the elevator, you turned around and gasped slightly at the sight of the entire city of Manhattan right there in front of your eyes, from a little glass box.

"Friday, Tony's lab, please. Thank you."

"Right away, Director, and Miss Y/N," the AI chortled back, causing your eyes to widen even further. Friday was like a celebrity to you, and now finally you were here, at a place you had only dreamt of being, and the reality was slowly sinking in.

The elevator pinged open, and Fury was the first one to step out, followed by you as the two of you walked into what looked like a really high technology lab. Your eyes marvelled at the sight, and you just looked around, your eyes scanning through it all, your mind still in a daze.

"Welcome, welcome to my humble abode," there he was, the man himself, the man behind all of this, the famous Tony Stark. Although you had met him before, and Steve and Natasha as well, it was back at the SHEILD headquarters.

"Tony Stark, long time no see."

"Well, I've been busy you see," he smirked smugly at you, but soon, a small smile paved its way over his lips and he slowly engulfed you in a warm hug.

"Welcome home, I always did say to Fury."

"What?" You raised an eyebrow, side glancing your boss, who was, for a change, having a smile of his own over his lips.

"You always belonged with us, here at the Avengers Towers. He never really let you go," he gave Fury a look and then, his friendly demeanor altogether changed and a professional look took over his face, his features turning stoic. "Now Fury have you spoken to her about her trainings?"

"Not yet."

"Great, so–" Tony dramatically clapped his hands together, "With a great position comes great responsibilities."

"With power you mean?" You chuckled.

"Yes yes. And that," he winked playfully, only to straighten up again. "But that power needs to be harnessed. You will be put into training, like all the newbies we get and we will get to decide when and if you have what it takes to be one of us."

Fury nodded, and you looked at him, noting how he was beaming at you, like a proud father, causing your confidence to boost up as you nodded in Tony's direction.

"When do we start?"

"Hold that thought, ah, Friday? Can you please ask Captain to join us, please?"

"Right away, Mr. Stark." The AI replied.

"Well then, so that fixes it."

A comfortable silence fell over the lab and Tony walked off to look at something on one of his screens. You fixed yourself by the glass staring out at the picturesque view of the city of Manhattan. It wasn't long when you heard heavy footsteps behind you, and finally when you heard Fury greet Steve, you realized he had joined the lot of you. The minute you turned around, your eyes fell on him and with a soft smile, you nodded in his direction, "Mr. Rogers."

╞═════𖠁𐂃𖠁═════╡

Bucky wasn't having the best day.

At first, he had woken up to bone chilling nightmare. If that wasn't all, he had taken his motorcycle out for a ride, and somehow he had parked it when he had reached the cliff, and made his way to the edge to just stare at the horizon, when someone had somehow managed to steal the bike. And if that wasn't the worst part of the day, he was sexually frustrated and utterly sex deprived as he had just returned yesterday from almost a month long mission.

Sam being the nice person he was, had tried to warn most of te people to stay out of Bucky's way today; because today, he was really biting.

But he really hadn't warned you.

Because he still didn't know who you were.

After having met with Steve in Tony's lab, Fury had left, and Steve had opted to walk you around the facility, until he had dropped you off at your apartment on the seventh floor. He had told you that you were to share this floor with a few of the Avengers, but he was in a hurry so he had asked you to come find him later in the evening. Besides, you had to be ready to train with him today at 7 in the evening.

It was already 5 by the time you stepped into your apartment; your eyes widening in awe when you saw the interior of it. The furniture was sleek and modern, made out of the best quality of wood there could be, and the walls were painted a spotless white, numerous abstract paintings hanging on the walls.

You gotta hand it to Tony, the man sure did have a taste.

It didn't take you long to fill the walk in closet up with your clothes, and even after filling up the two bags that you had brought over, you couldn't help but marvel at how much space the closet still had for more stuff, giving you an inspiration to shop for a dozen more outfits. However, now wasn't the time to think about it, and instead you decided to grab yourself a mug of coffee from the kitchen, so you could be alert and fresh for your training session with Captain.

Whistling to yourself, and with the help of Friday, you did manage to find your way to the massive kitchen, adjoining the spacious recreation room that was empty when you reached. Walking into the kitchen, you filled up your mug with piping hot coffee to the brim, and lifted the mug up, walking out of the kitchen.

Little did you know that a mistake was bound to happen on your first day here.

Bucky had just stepped out of the gym, dressed in a tight white tank top and his joggers, his hair all sweaty and sticking to his face. At first he had decided to hop right into the shower, and maybe get a little frisky, but at the last moment, he finally gave up on that idea, having decided to stall the shower for a little more time so he could grab himself a granola bar from the kitchen.

Although his feet made a lot of ruckus as he walked into the recreation room, and towards the kitchen, but perhaps you were so engrossed in licking your lips, eyeing the mug of coffee in your hands that you failed to hear him come in.

You stepped out of the kitchen at the exact same time when he tried to enter, and you ended up crashing into him, your hot coffee spilling all over his white tank, causing a massive stain.

Bucky cursed as the coffee came in contact with his flesh, a faint hissing sound escaping from his lips, which was probably due to the burn that he could now feel on his abs. His eyes turned venomous instantly, and his face contorted in fury.

"Even with a pair of glasses on, you still cannot watch where you going?" He barked at you, in a rude tone.

You looked at the stain on his abs, and then back up at him, not failing to notice the blue in his eyes, mentally cursing yourself for how clumsy you were.

"I – I'm really sorry, I –" You started stammering, only to be cut off by him again.

"Your sorry won't fix the mess you made, would it?" Sarcasm dripped through his words, and now, you were starting to feel how this man was simply overreacting. You spilling a piping hot mug of coffee over him wasn't really that much of a big deal, was it?

"Let me wash it –"

"We have machines that does that stuff for us, you really don't have to bother. Now, if you don't mind, you are in my way," the blue eyed man simply huffed, his face slowly turning cold and emotionless, as he crossed his arms over his chest, watching you and waiting for you to move out of his way. Maybe you weren't that fast in moving; and you understood this when you felt him roughly push himself past you, ignoring the way you fell to your side by the weight of his body, almost crashing against the doorframe and hurting your side.

"Really? Did you just fucking push me?"

This time, you turned around, your eyes contorted in fury, and your lips laced together, in a hope that pressing your lips together like that would stop your curses from flowing out.

"Would you rather have had me jump over you? You aren't exactly small."

He had his back now turned towards you, his body bent over the fridge as he callously moved his hands through the contents of the fridge.

"Prick."

Shaking your head, you took a step away, leaving the now empty mug of coffee on the slab before making your way out of the kitchen.

You were fuming.

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lailyn · 3 years

Text

Stephen stepped out of the portal, expecting to be assaulted by a flurry of arms anytime now, but they never came. He looked around. The living room was empty.

Their house was never silent. Between Tony's music and the noises of his trade, the clangs and bangs were a normal part of Stephen's life now, one he took comfort in every day.

And more recently, ever since a bundle of heavenly mischief by the name of Loki joined in the cacophony, it made rolling out of bed in the morning that bit harder, and coming home every evening easier.

He had been blessed, not once, but twice in the search for true love.

Stephen walked down the stairs toward the basement and true enough, he found one of them hunched over a table, hard at work.

He watched Tony for a while before patting the Cloak of Levitation a few times; he could almost sense its disappointment as the sentient relic flew to give them a moment to themselves.

"How was work today, hun?"

Engrossed in his latest project, Stephen could barely hear Tony's mumbling through his welding helmet. Which was a shame because Stephen could have used a welcome home kiss or two, on the account of his very -

"Shitty day," he sighed. "It's that time of the year again. Wannabe witches and wizards dabbling in things they can't understand. I have to sweep in and clean up all the mess."

"You do it very dramatically though."

Stephen could just see the outline of Tony's suggestive grin through the visor. "The sweeping in."

Stephen only snorted. "You're one to talk. You spent hours talking over the latest colour scheme for Mark XXVII in bed with Loki yesterday when you two were supposed to be sleeping. Green and red? You'll look like a flying Christmas Tree."

"Hey, that was private pillow talk!" Tony protested with an embarrassed chuckle. "It's all about aesthetics, darling. That's why I insist I walk in the middle when we're on the streets."

Tony had a habit of not looking where he was going most of the time, so it was only natural Loki and Stephen be his eyes on the road. Stephen had never really wondered about it, and Loki never really minded getting hit by a car or two in Tony's stead, but now that Tony had brought it up...

"Yeah, what's the deal with that?"

"Ever watched Mean Girls?" At the blank look on Stephen's face, Tony tried again. "Charmed? The one from the 90s, not the reboot?"

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about and I know everything."

"Pretty things always walk in threes, Stephen. And the prettiest one always walks in the middle."

With a smirk, Tony slid his visor down; he turned the music up and purposely turned his back in the hope that Stephen would miscontrue it as a 'Do Not Disturb' sign.

"Where's Loki?"

"He's around somewhere," Tony mumbled. "Go look for him, would you? He's going to think we don't care."

Stephen only chuckled and gave Tony one last peck on the top of his head. "Come find us when you're done."

"Will do."

Tony waited until Stephen's form disappeared up the stairs before picking up his soldering iron once more.

In truth, Tony simply did not want Stephen to see what he was working on.

He may be a little late to the bandwagon but wearing one's lover's colours? Into battle? Tony was sold. Besides, he was only taking a page out of Renly Baratheon's book.

(Who, according to Loki, had taken to wearing the stag of Baratheon in the fight against his brother Stannis, but in the colours of House Tyrell, obviously an homage to his lover Ser Loras.)

In Lokispeak, that meant Tony'd better be wearing Loki's colours the next time they went into battle together. And Tony Stark was not going to be outshined by a fictional character.

Mark XXVII was going to have the most gorgeous chest plate in metallic navy blue.

(Because hello, two lovers! Beat that, Renly!)

It matched Stephen's Sorcerer Supreme costume perfectly, and Tony could not wait for the next villain to show up so he could show it off.

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

The energy signature powering up the wards around the house was strong, indicating that Loki had not left the house, but for some reason, Stephen could not find him anywhere.

He searched high and low, up and down all three storeys of the mansion, but there was neither hide nor tail of his mercurial lover.

When the search had gone on long enough that pangs of worry were beginning to collect in the pit of his stomach, Stephen knew he had no choice but to resort to magic.

He began to panic when reading a strand of Loki's hair (he always kept a few on him for moments like this) brought him right where he started, in the middle of an empty living room that felt bigger than ever now that he was utterly alone.

Okay. Loki was officially missing.

He was about to raise all hell when he remembered that there was another locating spell he had not tried.

It worked!

Stephen followed the mage light as it led him somewhere into the bowel of the house. He grew more and more curious as the mage light took him down a long hallway, the end of which only had a utility room where they would do the occasional laundry.

Then he saw it, the outline of a sleek Bombay cat inside the washing machine.

"Oh, Loki…"

It seemed to be sleeping, comfortably ensconced on a small mountain of towels.

Stephen opened the front load washer and carefully extracted it from its fluffy throne.

The cat blinked blearily, its eyes a familiar, brilliant green. It meowed in hissy annoyance but settled almost immediately when Stephen held it to his chest.

"What's the matter? This isn't the place to sleep," he admonished gently, scratching the cat's chin. "It's very dangerous, you know. One of us could have turned it on by mistake."

The cat pawed its way up Stephen's chest until they were eye to eye.

The hovering mage light illuminated the intelligence behind the cat's eyes, as did the Inuit kiss Loki gave Stephen's nose.

Stephen chanted a word to close the loop on the spell, and the mage light turned into a wisp of golden smoke that disappeared into the bell dangling from Loki's neck.

Stephen fussed with the slightly askew collar to fix it when the pads of his fingers brushed against something; he turned the fine leather outward, revealing the silken lining inside.

If found, please return to S&S, it read in gold stencil letters.

He chuckled, remembering the first time Loki shifted and the argument that had ensured between him and their worrywart of a boyfriend.

"What does S&S stand for?"

"Why, Stark and Strange, of course."

"Why can't it be Strange and Stark?"

"Don't you know your alphabets, Doctor? A comes before R."

"Loki thinks it stands for Stephen and Stark," Stephen said triumphantly.

Tony wished he could look into Lokitty's eyes but he had to fasten the collar and check the fit before he could get it engraved, diamond-encrusted, and of course, magically and electronically tagged. "No, he doesn't. And why do you get to be Stephen, and I'm Stark?"

"It was your idea. I'm perfectly happy with S&T."

Stephen had never been a cat lover, but for Loki he could make an exception. Loki made such a fine, handsome feline.

"Alphabetically and perfectly happy. Yes, yes, I am."

"What's all this?" A pair of arms snaked around Stephen's neck from behind. "A party in the laundry room and I wasn't invited?"

Tony then noticed the bundle of fur in Stephen's lap. "Is Loki alright?"

"Yeah. He's just bored."

"And hungry." Loki rematerialised, and now instead of a furball, he was a tangle of arms and legs that quickly held Stephen down in place, but Tony felt equally grounded, such was the intensity of his glare. "You promised we would go fonduing."

Stephen burst out laughing. "Loki, I don't think that word means what you think it means."

"What are you talking about? Of course it does!" Tony leaned forward over Stephen's shoulder to give Loki an apologetic kiss on the lips. "Cheese or chocolate?"

Loki's eyes lit up like gems. "Oh goodness, is it my turn to choose?"

"Of course it is, Princess."

Loki nuzzled his forehead against the underside of Stephen's jaw like he had spent too long in cat form and forgotten to hard-reset to factory settings. "Hmm. I feel very spoiled now. I can't decide."

Like Tony, Stephen too was getting better at deciphering Lokispeak. "We'll do both. Cheese for dinner, chocolate for dessert."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "That's very decadent of you, Doctor. I'm impressed."

"Wouldn't hurt to indulge once in a while."

Stephen stared at Loki's lips and imagined them dripping with cheese, and surely chocolate, later. "It's a convivial affair, fonduing."

"It warms my cockles when you talk dirty," Tony sighed happily.

"Cockles?" Loki's face fell.

"Just a saying, darling." Tony held out a hand for Loki to take, and hoisted him out of Stephen's lap and off the floor.

He addressed his next question to his partner who was taking his time picking cat fur off his clothes one by one, no doubt to store away for safekeeping. Every bit of Loki was magic after all.

"Shall we? I forgot to feed the cat today," he said sheepishly.

"That's why it's 'Stephen and Tony', Stark," the Sorcerer Supreme said proudly, and wasted no time demonstrating why. His portal opened up onto a nondescript sidewalk, and across the street was one of Greenwich Village's well-kept secrets, a hidden treasure trove of restaurants and cafes.

"There!" Tony pointed at a sign that said 'The Melting Pot' in big, flashing letters.

"Watch out for traffic, Tony," came Stephen's customary warning, but Tony was way ahead of him.

With one hand, Tony grabbed Stephen's hand, "Mine." Then he grabbed Loki's with the other. "Mine."

"All mine," Tony said possessively and pulled them both in.

Together as one, they crossed the street, with the prettiest (arguably) one in the middle, as always.

"Wanna get matching tattooes later?"

"Tony!" "Stark!"

#ironstrangefrost #frostironstrange #strangefrost #strangefrostiron #frostiron #ironstrange #lokitty

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