Summary: No matter how many PhDs Bruce has to his name, he’ll never understand any member of this family.

Rating/Warnings/Tags:T (post-Avengers (2012); Avengers Tower; Tony’s Sister!Reader; Annoying Younger Sister!Reader; Stark!Reader; Science Bros; mild sexual content)

Challenge: “100 Drabbles of Randomness” by Miseria1 on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Tease

When Tony first set out to convince Bruce to move into Stark Tower with him, he had focused especially on the building’s laboratory. He talked endlessly over lunch after they saw Loki and Thor off to Asgard. The list of amenities was quite impressive, featuring a lot of open space, enormous glass walls and windows, and equipment that Bruce had never even heard of before, let alone seen. The scientific facilities were not the only reason that Bruce finally gave in, but he had to admit they had been a large draw. 

Thwap! 

Unfortunately, Tony had failed to mention one other important feature of his building and more specifically the labs: his younger sister, [F Name] Stark.

“Ignore her,” Tony crooned in an undertone, as Bruce picked another wad of newspaper off the tabletop.

“That’s the fifth time today she’s thrown something at my head,” Bruce said, “and it’s not even lunchtime.”

“Could be worse. Could be throwing rocks.”

“Don’t give her any ideas.”

“Hello!” you called from behind them. “Do you mind not talking about me as though I’m not here?”

Tony turned to glare at you. “Do you mind annoying someone else for a little while? Maybe Steve would like some company in the gym.”

“If Dr. Banner finds what I’m doing annoying, maybe he should join Cap in the gym.”

Sighing, Tony turned back to his and Bruce’s latest attempt at a new AI. He checked its progress for all of five seconds, then tossed the tool in his hand onto the counter, spun around, and headed for the exit.

“This step should take another hour to complete. Keep an eye on it for me, would you?” he asked Bruce. “I think [Name] is the only person on the planet that can make me long for a long chat with Steve.”

Tony vanished before Bruce could protest. The likelihood of any protest working was slim, but Bruce would have liked to try. Now he was trapped up here unless you decided to leave him alone, something you hadn’t done once whenever you found him in the lab. He dropped his head into his crossed arms resting on the table and hoped that that morning you wouldn’t find him an entertaining target. 

Thwap! 

“[Name], if you want this floor to remain in one piece, you really need to stop throwing things at me,” he said, voice muffled by his sleeves. 

Thwap! 

“[Name]." 

Thwap! 

"I said stop!” Bruce growled as he twisted on his stool to face you.

His shoulders hunched up around his ears, and the breaths heaving from his chest contained a guttural edge. These symptoms alone should have been enough to frighten you, but no. Your bored expression did not flicker. You sat coolly on your stool at the other end of the room with one of the large pile of paper balls beside you clutched in one hand.

“Really?” you asked. “A couple of paper balls to the noggin makes you angry enough to Hulk out?”

“I’m always angry. All it takes is one little push.”

Bruce rubbed at his eyes with his fists. Already that one flare of anger had faded and left him wanting a nap. You were right about one thing, though: A bit of light prodding to the skull was not worth the full exhaustion of becoming the Hulk. He took several deep breaths to get himself under control—only for another paper to bean him in the head. 

Thwap! 

With a groan, Bruce crumpled the paper in his hand. “Why do you hate me so much, [Name]?”

“Why do you think I hate you?”

“Come on. You’ve had it in for me from the day we met. Any time you find me hanging around with Tony, you do whatever it takes for one of us to get sick of you and go away.”

“How do you mean?" 

Thwap! 

"Like that. Seriously, what do you want me to do? Do you want me to just go back to India and leave you and your brother in peace?”

“Of course not!” The mere suggestion seemed to leave you shocked. “Why would I want that?”

“If just seeing me around upsets you so much—" 

Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! 

A cascade of papers hit him one after another. He lifted his hands to shield himself from the blows, but they kept coming until you ran out of ammunition.

"I don’t hate you. God! You already figured out the problem, genius. And you’re supposed to have how many PhDs?”

“Seven,” Bruce answered vaguely. Without the continuous assault on his head, he could perhaps set his mind to figuring out what it was he had already figured out. All he could think of was: “You don’t like it when I spend time with Tony?”

“Ding, ding, ding, ding! Got it in one, Doctor.”

“But my moving to India would solve that problem.”

You had nothing else to toss at him. Apparently, this was reason enough for you get up and walk over to him. A few seconds later, you stood in front Bruce with your hands on your hips. “I don't care about spending time with my brother, all right? It’s not like I just got out of boarding school last week. We see plenty of each other. Which would mean…?”

“You…you want to spend more time with me?” Bruce said, once he realized you expected him to supply an answer. It wasn’t in the least logical, but you nodded. “That doesn’t make any sense! Whenever Tony and I are in here together, you torment me.”

As he blathered on, you just kept on nodding. That Bruce noticed. What he didn’t was the arm extending toward his collar—not until you hooked a finger around it and pulled him toward you until your lips nearly touched.

“That’s because I want to get you alone, Doctor, and out of the lab.”

Bruce gulped. “And why would that be?”

You grinned. “The things I want to do to you aren’t things I want Tony or JARVIS watching.”

“Er…I—That is to say—”

“I’m back! Wouldn’t you know it? Listening to Steve go on and on about the good old days is enough to get me to miss my baby sister,” Tony’s voice came up the stairs leading to the lab door.

Bruce felt himself turn bright red at the thought of him catching you and Bruce in such position, but you’d already released him by the time the thought occurred. Tony saw nothing as he entered the room.

“How about you two? Play nice while I was gone?”

“Um—” Bruce began.

“I ran out of paper balls,” you interrupted. “Don’t worry. I’ve recollected them.”

“Excellent. Then I think it’s about time Bruce and I returned to work. How about you, Bruce?”

Bruce’s eyes followed your sauntering course back to your own lab station. You winked at him as you dropped your projectiles back on its surface. Hastily, he spun back to the waiting holographic screen behind him.

“Yes,” he said. “Let’s.”

“Loving the enthusiasm, Big Guy. Now, I was thinking…”

In all honesty, Bruce didn’t really listen to the rest of Tony’s spiel. He had his mind on other matters—like the possibility of taking you up on that offer to spend time with you outside of the lab. This whole project shouldn’t take too much longer. Then, perhaps, he might convince you to go get a coffee with him. 

Thwack! 

…if only so you might stop throwing things at his head.

Summary: No matter what you may say to the contrary, Thor does tend to have it coming to him.

Rating/Warnings/Tags:All (Pre-Thor; Asgard; Bratty!Child!Thor; magic!reader; established Loki & Reader friendship)

Challenge: “100 Drabbles of Randomness” by Miseria1 on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Notes: And so we begin with my attempt at replacing the ficlets I deleted from this collection! I’m going to try to post one a week, but there’s a lot going on, so I’m not going to beat myself up if I can’t get to it. 

Hypocrisy

Finally! After an entire morning’s worth of needling and squirming and pouting, you found yourself in the open corridors of Asgard’s royal palace. Being a young woman—the only daughter of Odin’s Captain of the Guard at that—meant that you typically didn’t have many options for adventure whenever your father chose to drag you up there for some “society,” and that day’s meeting had been less adventure than most. Now that you were free of his and Odin’s watchful eyes, you intended to find yourself some fun, and you knew just who to look for to find that.

“Loki!”

Or perhaps that person would find you first. The enraged voice you caused you to jump about a foot in the air in fright.

A clatter of footsteps followed this cry. Louder they grew, and louder and louder, until a boy around your own age rounded the distant corner. You recognized him at once by the mischievous grin on his face. He in turn must have recognized you, for he picked up his pace the moment he spotted you.

“Loki?” you asked, but could not question Odin’s youngest son further before he darted behind you.

“Perfect timing as always, [Name],” he said.

“Perfect timing for what?”

“Loki, I am going to kill you!” the same voice from shouted. “And then I’m going to tell Mother!”

A strange noise issued from behind you. Turning, you found Loki stifling his laughter with his own palm. His green eyes twinkled with mirth. Thor continued stomping up the hall and opening (and slamming shut) every door on the way, and that only seemed to amuse Loki all the more.

“What did you do?” you asked. Your tone smacked the smile right off his face.

“Nothing!”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“All right, nothing important. Nothing Thor should be so worked up over, anyway. It was only a prank.”

“I thought the Allfather told you to stop pulling pranks on your brother,” you said with your hands on your hips.

Loki rolled his eyes. “What does he know? Thor’s got to learn to take a joke.”

“It’s not a joke if your prank is mean.”

“No one got bit this time! What’s the problem?”

“The problem is that you’re being—”

“There you are!”

Thor had found Loki at last. At least, you thought it was Thor. The red-faced boy headed right for you looked familiar, only he had bright blue hair with eyebrows to match. Your attempt at a swift greeting curtsy went ignored. Only Loki could capture Thor’s interest at the moment.

“Turn it back!” Thor shouted.

Loki didn’t flinch. “No.”

“If you don’t, I'll—”

“Make me? How? Get Sif to hold me down so you can punch me?”

Instead of thinking of a better way to finish his threat, Thor—still looking utterly ridiculous with his blue hair—lunged at his brother with a wordless cry of anger. Loki ducking behind you deterred Thor not at all. The two boys, one snarling, the other snickering, circled you. Around and around they went until you grew dizzy enough to shove the nearest person out of the endless whirlwind.

Unfortunately, that person turned out to be Thor. More unfortunately still, your shoving him was enough for you to end up at the wrong end of his wrath yourself.

“You're helping him!” Thor snapped incredulously.

“What?” You shook your head. “No, I—”

“I should have guessed you were in on this, [Name].”

“Wait. I had nothing to—”

“You're always helping him pick on me!”

“I never—”

“If that’s how you want things to be, fine. I’ll tell your dad, too. When he hears about this—”

A sudden peal of laughter from Loki interrupted Thor’s tirade. Disconcerted, Thor paused, but it didn’t take long for him to open his mouth to continue lecturing you. He took a deep breath, then found himself unable to speak over your laughter.

“What?” he demanded, looking between you and Loki as the two of you doubled over gasping for breath. “What are you laughing at? What’s so funny?”

“Maybe—maybe you should check a mirror,” Loki managed to choke out.

Thor’s eyes narrowed, but clearly his suspicions were great enough to convince him to follow Loki’s advice and leave you both unattended. It did not take long for him to find a reflective surface in the lush corridor. He took one look, then gasped. For good reason, too: Above his quivering lips now sat a magnificent mustache the exact same color as the rest of his hair.

“Mother!” Thor bawled before rushing back out of sight once more.

They were too much, his hysterics. Together you and Loki melted into a guffawing puddle right there on the palace floor. Only several minutes later did either of you recover to rise, hiccuping, into a seated position.

Loki shot you a knowing look as you wiped the tears from your eyes. “I thought you said I wasn’t to prank Thor anymore,” he said.

You sat up as straight as you could and said in your most prim of voices, “Thor has to learn to take a joke.”

This very nearly sent the two of you to the floor again. Struggling to contain himself, Loki instead hopped to his feet and offered you a hand to follow suit. You allowed him to pull you up. Each of you shot the other enormous grins at the exact same time. Then you both wordlessly raced up the hall side by side. Thor would be back soon, almost certainly with backup. Until then, there remained plenty of fun for you and your friend to go looking for.

Summary:  He’s going to have a lot of conflicting feelings about this later, but for now, Matt will take what you’re willing to give him.

Rating/Warnings/Tags:T (sexual references; former nun!reader; reader knows Daredevil’s secret identity; inaccurate Catholicism)

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Fic Trade Prompt: "Sometimes the ‘Devil of Hell’s Kitchen’ just needed a shoulder to lean on.“

Notes: I only ever saw the first season of Daredevil. Also, I mostly chose to write this particular fic trade response because I wanted an excuse to write something that, for me, was a shoutout to His Dark Materials, a book series I’m enormously fond of. 

I don’t actually know anything about Catholicism, however, and as a Christian myself, I realize His Dark Materials is not exactly a reliable source for learning about the topic of religion. If you are Catholic and something in here is incorrect, I implore you to inform me so that I can fix the problem. If it’s so horrendously awful that a mere edit won’t work, I’m even willing to rewrite it. 

In more specific-to-the-fic information, this is one of my few fic trade responses where I tried my hardest to stay within the word count restrictions. Alas, I still went over…and trying so hard means that this really isn’t near as sensory-overload-descriptive as I would want something from Matt’s perspective to be.

A Matter of Sanity

Matt woke up that morning to a barrage of sensory assault: warm sunlight splayed across his skin; humidity from the bathroom down the hall dampened the short hairs on his face; the smell of strange perfume sticking to the semi-cooled sheets beside him and his familiar shampoo drifting through the air. Toast had been made–and nearly burned–in the kitchen sometime that morning. He could hear the medicine cabinet closing, then bare feet padding toward him. Through all these floating, fuzzy feelings sliced his injuries from the night before: cuts, bruises, blisters, maybe a sprained wrist.

“Morning, Mattie.” 

Andthere was the reason he had not meditated after the fight, the reason his wounds felt as fresh as though he’d got them minutes before. 

Said reason lighted on the edge of his bed and slipped soft fingers into his sleep-mussed hair. “Did you sleep well last night?”

In answer, Matt let out an incomprehensible moan. As far as he could remember, not much sleeping had taken place in the apartment the night before. Still, he wasn’t one to quibble over what he’d been doing instead. Seconds later, he sat up, forcing you to stop playing with his hair so that he could wrap his arms around your waist and put his cheek against your moist, bare shoulder. 

“Are you sure you’ve never done that before?” he mumbled. 

You laughed, a sound that always caused a pleasant unfurling sensation to spread through Matt’s stomach. “Sorry. A girl has to have some secrets, even from her all-knowing, all-seeing blind lawyer friend.”

“Is that what we are? Friends?” Matt chuckled himself and tightened his grip as he pressed a kiss to your skin. “You are the worst nun I have ever met.”

Another laugh, then you gently patted his cheek with your shower-warmed hand. “Well, maybe that’s why I decided not to be one anymore. What do you want for lunch?”

The weight on his mattress vanished at the same time your body did. 

“Lunch? What time is it?” 

Frowning, Matt turned in the direction he heard you moving–toward where you had left the majority of your clothes the night before. Whether he had pulled them off or you had, he couldn’t quite remember. Then a more important question popped out of his mouth:

“Did you say you quit being a nun?”

You only bothered to answer his first two questions: “It’s nearly eleven o’ clock. Figured if you wanted to go somewhere, we’d better head that way, and frankly, Matt, there’s nothing in this apartment but beer.”

“Eleven? It’s Thursday. I can’t go to lunch. I’m already late for work–what was that about stopping nun-ing?”

“I called in for you. Foggy whined about you skipping over a woman as usual, but–”

“[Name],” said Matt. “The thing about your job?”

You heaved a dramatic sigh. “I quit, okay? I was going to tell you when I came over last night, but after all that, I kind of figured I didn’t have to anymore.”

“Some clarification might have been nice.” Matt hadn’t felt an overabundance of guilt at sleeping with you. It took two to tango, after all, and you’d been just as willing as he had. Now some dread began to creep in. “Why’d you quit?”

A huff sounded from behind the fabric of the shirt over your face. “I met a tall, dark, handsome stranger beating the tar out of a Russian slave trader in an alley, and he made me rethink my life choices.”

“That’s a cliché.”

“So’s a blind ninja fighting slave traders in New York.”

“Not exactly.” Pressing his lips together, Matt slid out of his silk sheets. He knew his shirt was not far away, but he hadn’t started pulling it on yet when he went on, “I didn’t mean to have you quit.”

“Matt!” you groaned.

“You can’t come with me. I didn’t mean to make you to feel useless.”

“I’m a grown woman, and I make my own choices. Youdidn’tmake me feel or do anything–and I know I can’t go with you to punch Russians. I just wanted to do a little good for Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Youwere doing good for Hell’s Kitchen. With the Church.”

“Have to disagree with you there. And I’m not going back. You can’t make me. I want to experience the world. I want to helpyou.”

“I already said, you are not–“

“Iknow,” you interrupted. “There’s more to do than break people’s bodies, you know.”

Matt stared at you, or stared roughly in the direction he knew you continued to pull on various articles of clothing. Another sigh issued from there.

“When I got here last night to give you the news, you were bleeding and shaking from head to foot. There’s nothing to eat here but booze and bread. You can take care of yourself, but you’re not very good at looking afteryourself.”

He had never really thought about it that way. His work as Daredevil was vital; eating, less so. Matt already healed faster than most when he wasn’t busy deflowering ex-nuns, and what didn’t heal after that, he could plow through just fine. On the other hand…

“Are you inviting yourself to move in?” he asked.

There was an obvious smile in your voice when you answered, “Well, you are the reason I’m presently homeless and unemployed. If you hadn’t seduced me away from a life of worship and piety, I’d still be doing my holy work, Matt Murdock.”

“And you’re absolutely sure you’re done with being a nun.”

“I think what we did last night pretty much sealed the deal.”

“And there’d be more of that.”

“I’m leaning toward yes.”

“And you really want to live here. With me. With the giant blazing billboard right outside the window.”

He got a pillow to the face for his trouble, or would have, had he not caught it before it smacked him in the nose. 

“Does it sound like I can afford to be picky about where I’m staying? I’m sure  about all of the above. I can always move out once I find something else, if you decide you hate having me here.”

Your tone turned just a little uncertain at the end of that sentence. Matt stood and stepped carefully (in case of more pillows) over the smooth floor toward you. 

“I won’t hate having you here,” he said. “Now that you mention it, it might be nice having someone here when I get home bleeding at two in the morning. To fuss over me and put me in place. When can you start?”

“Immediately.” You shoved something soft-ish into his chest. Pants, he realized as felt the hard button. “Now get dressed. It’s getting toward noon now and all that sex makes a girl hungry.”

“Right,” Matt said, and quickly started to pull on the pants.

Definitely the putting him in his place part, then. But maybe you were right. Maybe sometimes, the “Devil of Hell’s Kitchen” just needed a shoulder to lean on. He’d have to see, but he was leaning toward yes, too.

Summary: He’s dealt with worse problems in his lifetime.

Rating/Warnings:All (This is almost certainly not how sleepwalking works.)

Challenge: “100 Drabbles of Randomness” by Miseria1 on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Sleepwalk

When Bruce woke up, he found someone in his bed. This wasn’t an altogether strange occurrence, but he was quite certain he had gone to bed alone four hours ago. Trying not to feel too concerned, he wiggled halfway out of the sheets before peeling those beside him back. He was surprised to find youcurled up in a ball halfway down the mattress.

Bruce frowned. Had he gone to bed alone the night before? Yes, he was sure he had. He’d been up with Tony until one working on some new clean-energy plans and had had no chance to call and see if you had made it home all right after dinner.

“Um, [Name]?” He nudged you softly with his hand.

The tiny ball simply shuddered slightly at his touch.

Bruce tried again. “[Name]?”

Your eyelids fluttered and a small groan worked its way free of your throat as you stretched yourself out of your fetal position.

“Five more minutes,” you mumbled as you flipped over.

Bruce shook your shoulder. “Is there any particular reason you’re asleep in my bed?“

You opened your eyes completely at that. They darted across the unfamiliar walls and ceiling. Then you looked at him, cheeks already much darker than normal.

“Oh, no,” you said.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine!” You sat up and shuffled your feet across the carpet underneath the bed. “Oh, god. I’m so sorry, Bruce.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You certainly weren’t acting like it. “Are you sick?”

“No! No, I’m not. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“But why are you here?”

You looked at him. Bruce looked back. At last, you took a deep breath and answered:

“I…have a problem.” His eyebrows rose at that, so you continued, “It’s not a big deal. I just…sleepwalk…sometimes. I guess I was thinking about you so much that my legs took me here without me making them.”

“Ah,” Bruce said, as if that explained things.

The color in your cheeks deepened still further as you stood up. "I’m so sorry. I’ll go home now.“

But you didn’t get far before he took your wrist. "Look, you’re already here. I missed you, too. Besides, it’s dangerous to be wandering around at five in the morning in your pajamas. Why don’t you just stay the night–or day, as the case may be?”

You paused before turning your head slightly to look at him. Your cheeks were beginning to fade back to their original color. “You sure?”

“Positive.”

Bruce shifted to his side to allow you space to crawl back underneath the blanket. As you snuggled back into the sheet, he chuckled and shifted you so he could tuck you into his chest. Before you fell back to sleep, he planted a kiss behind your ear and whispered:

“And maybe if this is going to be a frequent problem, you should just move in.”

Summary: Sometimes love is like quicksand: You take one wrong step and it sucks you straight in.

Rating/Warnings:All (hate to love; Post-Avengers (2012))

Challenge: “100 Drabbles of Randomness” by Miseria1 on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Quicksand

When you first met Dr. Bruce Banner, you’d hated his guts. Physicist work was your work at Stark Industries, and you didn’t appreciate his coming along to usurp your position–not that Tony noticed your obvious disdain when he shoved the other man into your workspace.

“Look, [Name]! I brought you a souvenir: a new partner!” Tony said.

You would have preferred a “My boss saved the world and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” t-shirt. Surely that was apparent in the way your lips curled as you shook Dr. Banner’s hand. Still, Tony just grinned, slapped the two of you on the backs, and left with a jaunty:

“You two kids play nice now!”

Needles to say, you did not play nice. You glowered and sulked and pouted and glared. Dr. Banner didn’t try to stop you. He just did his work in silence and only deigned to speak up when he needed help finding a tool.

Several weeks passed in the same manner before something strange happened, and it was something you never could quite figure out. Things between the two of you just seemed to…shift.

“What do you say we take a break and go get lunch?” Dr. Banner interrupted the quiet to ask.

You looked up from your holo-screen to scowl at him. “Why are you asking me?“

"Because you don’t do anything other than work. You seem lonely.”

Your eyes widened. Dr. Banner gazed at you calmly in return. Then you slammed your palms onto the table and left the room.

It bothered you that he noticed something so easily that you thought you had been hiding so well. You didn’t go back to work after your lunch break that day, but instead spent the rest of the afternoon grouching at home, ranting to your goldfish about how exactly much you hated Dr. Banner.

Time passed. Your rage faded slowly to embarrassment. You realized that you had been taking out your feelings of inadequacy on a man that had been nothing but polite to you.

“About that lunch,” you said the next day.

Dr. Banner looked away from his notes.

“I–I’m sorry I snapped at you. Maybe we could go today?”

He smiled. “I’d like that.

Summary:When you got married, people warned you that you wouldn’t just be marrying your husband, you’d be marrying into his family. Too bad no one ever warned you you’d be marrying into his friendships, too.

Rating/Warnings: All (Post-Captain America: Civil War;Captain America: Civil War Compliant; Hurt!James “Rhodey” Rhodes; Married!James “Rhodey” Rhodes; Vitriolic Best Buds; Mild Swearing; Avengers Compound)

Challenge:“100 Little Drabbles” by Wingu on Lunaescence Archives

Prompt:Break

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Notes: This is my first go at writing Rhodey outside of his occasional appearances in longer Tony-centric works. It’s long overdue, and I might have gone a little overboard with Tony just because I feel bad that I always focus on his friendship with Bruce instead.

Part of the Package Deal

Gravel crunched beneath your feet as you stepped of your sensibly-sized and -colored rental car onto the Avengers Compound’s sweeping grounds. Several huge buildings rose up around you high enough to block out the sun crawling westward toward the horizon. You pulled your sunglasses off to get a better look at your surroundings. So this was where Jim had been spending so much time for the past year. And how could you blame him? This place blew your modest home in Malibu out of the water.

No, no, no! Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head back and forth until it cleared of the usual Stark razzle-dazzle. You refused to let anything here impress you. Tony thought modern architecture and flashy tech were enough to make up for the fact you never heard about your husband unless he’d been involved in an accident? Well, not anymore.

With one sharp exhale, you squared your shoulders and snapped your attention to the nearby doors. According to the map you’d printed off the internet, these led into the living quarters for the Avengers. You took one handle and yanked to no avail. Locked. Yes, you decided as you took a step back to look for any obtrusive security cameras, you were definitely in the right place.

“Tony!” You banged on the glass. “Tony, let me in!”

Peering inside revealed nothing but an empty room filled with exercise equipment. You knocked again.

“Tony, I did not fly all the way here from California for you to ignore me!”

“Mr. Stark is currently tied up in other matters. May I have your name, please?”

The cool, Irish-accented voice of a woman seemed to come from nowhere. You jumped about a foot away from the door. A minute or two of pulse-pounding shock later, you realized this must be yet another of Tony’s AIs. What had happened to JARVIS, you wondered. He never had to ask for your name.

“Your [Name], please,” the new AI insisted.

“[F Name] Rhodes,” you answered as you stepped back to the door.

“I have no such name on the approved visitor list for today. Please contact our publicity office to arrange for an appointment at a later date. Goodbye.”

“Hold it!”

No reply came forth. For all the good it would do, you smashed your fist against the door once more. Then you held your breath. Still nothing moved behind the glass. Had Tony’s artificial bouncer really just left you here alone?

“Ma'am, I’m afraid that if you do not vacate the facility premises in the next ten minutes, I will be forced to call in the authorities.”

Apparently not.

“Listen,” you said, still unsure of exactly where to look to get your point across. “You tell Tony that [F Name] Rhodes is here. If he still won’t let me in, I’ll gladly talk to whatever authorities you’re required to summon. If he wants the extra publicity, I don’t mind giving it to him.”

The woman didn’t answer. You wondered again what had become of JARVIS. JARVIS knew you. He would never have left you standing outside, listening for the sound of approaching sirens or Iron Man drones. Heck, he’d probably have opened the door without waiting to get permission from his precious boss.

Movement flashed somewhere in the back of the room a quarter of an inch away from you. A figure made its rapid way in your direction. Soon it was close enough for you to identify: Tony Stark had made an appearance at last. He looked uncharacteristically pale as he unlocked the door and pushed it open to allow you inside.

“Where’s Jim?” you asked after you dumped your purse on a nearby plastic chair—the only flat surface you could fine that wasn’t tile floor.

“Hello to you, too, [Name],” Tony said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Don’t play dumb with me..”

“You’re a long way from California. It never occurred to you to callfirst?”

“The line was busy.” You folded your arms across your chest and asked again calmly, “Where’s Jim?”

Tony pushed his hair from his forehead with a sigh. You noticed he was having trouble meeting your eyes. “Resting.”

“Restingwhere?”

“Can we not do this right now? Let me show you to a room. We’ve got plenty available. When Rhodey’s ready, we’ll all have dinner together. I might even be able to dig Vision up from wherever he got to. We can talk then.”

Asthough Tony could weasel out of a conversation you wanted to have with him. You’d known him far too long for any of his usual stalling tactics to work.

“Tony, I’ll tell you this one time before I start pulling this place apart with my bare hands: Give me. My husband.”

Your eyes locked with his. A long pause ensued. You could practically see the gears (or suitably high-tech equivalent) turning inside Tony’s skull as he struggled to come with some comeback witty enough to distract you. Too late. Before he could utter another word, you turned on your heel to follow the dim hallway leading from the room.

“Wait!” he called after you.

You stopped and look at him over your shoulder.

“I…I can’t.”

“Why not?” You could barely keep the anger from your voice.

“Because he isn’t ready yet.”

“He isn’t ready for what?”

“Ready for you to see him!”

Gritting your teeth in a silent snarl, you marched right back up to Tony and jabbed a finger into his chest where his arc reactor used to sit. “You have no right to keep me from him.”

“I know.” He took the hand still prodding him, but instead of shoving it away, he wrapped his own hand around yours. “[Name], I promise, as soon as he’s okay, I’ll take you right to him.”

“‘Okay’? ’Okay’? Why is he not okay? Did something else happen to him?”

“No, not exactly.”

“What is he doing here anyway? He should be at the VA!”

“Trust me. This the best place for him. I’ve got one of the best neurosurgeons in the country on speed dial. Admittedly not the best, because he wouldn’t take my calls—but this one is excellent, too, and she’s keeping a good eye on him! I’m doing the best with what I’ve got, all right?”

He probably thought you’d drop the point of your husband being kept at Avengers HQ instead of a medical facility. After all, Tony was the man that built the greatest technical innovation the world had seen in decades while being kept prisoner in a cave with a box of scraps. But this wasn’t the fate of Tony’s reputation or his company at stake here. It was the man you loved’s life.

“Not good enough,” you said.

Tony pulled you back as you attempted a second break for the hall. “[Name], would you listen to me? Rhodey is as physically and emotionally fine as he can be. All I’m asking for is a little more time.”

Something about that request broke the dam inside you. Every horrible feeling you had experienced over the last few days crashed over you—the fear, the anger, the stress, the worry, all of it. Despite your best efforts to keep yourself upright and strong, tears filled your eyes. You ripped your arm free of Tony’s grip so that you could wipe your face dry with your sleeve and level a dry glare at him.

“I have given you time, Tony. It’s been days. I should have heard it from you, not from CNN.”

“I admit, when you put it that way, I could probably have handled the reveal a bit better.”

“How do you think I feel, knowing Jim is out there putting his life on the line for you, only to hear he’s been seriously injured while I’m listening to the news over dinner?”

“Things have just been a little hectic around here since Steve decided to play Dirty Harry, okay? I swear, I was going to call you just as soon as—”

“As soon as what? I am his wife, Tony! I deserve—”

“[Name]?”

Both you and Tony looked toward the hall to see a familiar man creeping up it, his hands pressed against the white wall to help him stand.

“Jim!” you gasped at the exact same time that Tony said, “Rhodey?”

For one shining moment, you remained so stunned to see your husband again that you failed to notice anything different about him. All you could do was stare at him in happy wonder—until he reached the end of the wall and nearly tumbled to the floor without further support. He would have fallen, had Tony not been quick enough to see what was happening and leap to fill the place the wall once had.

“Thanks,” Jim said.

“Don’t mention it. What are you doing out of bed?”

The two of them made their slow, staggering way across the room. You watched with one hand over your mouth. Could this really be the same man that had stood at the end of the aisle at your wedding? He looked the same and sounded the same, but, oh, Jim. Thankfully, you noticed where the men were headed before you gave yourself over to more tears. Your purse was unceremoniously dumped to the floor just as Jim collapsed into it. A few seconds went by as he caught his breath.

“I thought I heard the two of you arguing,” he answered Tony at last.

“We weren't—” But the cutting look you shot Tony prevented him finishing his protest.

“Sure,” Jim said, then he looked at you. “When did you get here?”

“About fifteen minutes ago,” you replied.

“Well, it’s good to see you. I was beginning to wonder when Tony would allow me to have visitors.”

“He didn’t.”

Jim frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I’m only here because I found out what happened on the news. Tony has nothing to do with it.”

“Oh.Oh. I’m sorry, [Name]. I should have called you. Between the media blitz and all the physical therapy, it never even crossed my mind.”

You put your hand gingerly on his shoulder and were relieved that he didn’t collapse under the added weight. “It’s okay, Jim. I don’t blame you for my finding out this way.”

“It isn’t Tony’s fault.”

You snorted, causing Jim’s faint eyebrows to lift.

“It’s not.”

“Jim.” Now your hand moved to cup his cheek. “This happened because you were cleaning up one of Tony’s messes again.”

Admittedly, you didn’t have all the details lined up just yet. One never could trust the news to tell the whole or entire truth about something, but this fiasco smelled strongly of one of Tony’s harebrained world-protection schemes. His role in keeping Jim away from for months at a time was a well-worn subject of argument between you and your husband; bringing it up now when Jim was so weak wasn’t exactly fair. But you couldn’t stand seeing him like this, and the knowledge that Tony had something to do with his injuries again only aggravated you further.

“I swear, you got hurt less often back when you only worked for the Air Force,” you said throatily.

Jim pressed one of his hands over the one you had on his face, then waited to speak until you could control yourself enough to look him in the eye:

“[Name], you know I make my own decisions.”

“And those decisions change if you think Tony’s going to get himself killed,” you grumbled.

“And you know I’m willing to call Tony out when I think he’s being an idiot.”

“Which doesn’t matter when he doesn’t listen.”

“And you knew that when you and I got married, Tony was part of that package deal.”

Another glare in Tony’s direction met with an odd expression on his part. Before it had felt like he couldn’t look straight at you. Now it felt like he’d forgotten you were even there, so focused was he on Jim. Could that be guilt you read on Tony’s face? Surely not. You turned back to your husband with a sharp breath.

“At the time, I didn’t realize the deal would involve so much of you two flying around in metal suits.”

Jim let out a soft, low chuckle. His eyelids slid shut. When he dropped his arm to his side, you reluctantly pulled your hand away from him. Tony knelt beside him to put his hand on the shoulder you had so recently held.

“You had a rough morning. You should be in bed,” he said.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Jim tried to wave him off, but Tony stayed put.

“I mean it. You want to backslide? All that progress we made this morning? Gone, because your stubborn ass has to come running whenever I get in a fight.”

“You’re not in any condition to go toe to toe with [Name] right now.”

“When am I ever?”

The two of them grinned at each other in that infuriating way that only a couple of guys making a private joke could. Seeing as you were the butt of that private joke, you did not crack a smile. You allowed them to continue smiling, though, until their little “bromance” moment stretched on a little too long. Both men started when you cleared throat. Maybe they had forgotten you were still standing there with your arms crossed over your chest.

“And what, exactly, about this morning was so rough?” you asked frostily.

The look Jim and Tony exchanged that time was different—more raised eyebrows and frowning—but equally infuriating.

“What aren’t you telling me?” This question you directed at your husband. “I came out all this way to find out what’s been going on, so one of you had better spit it out.”

“Or what?” asked Tony.

“Tony, I think she’s serious,” Jim said.

“So am I. Is not knowing really grounds for a divorce? I’m just weighing our options here.”

With an aggrieved sigh, Jim shoved Tony out of his immediate personal bubble. Tony must not have wanted to keep their shared secret too badly, because he did nothing to prevent Jim from taking a deep breath and saying:

“Tony’s got me doing some…experimental physical therapy.”

Well,that wasn’t a comforting explanation. “So you’re a physical therapist now?” you asked.

“Among other things,” Tony said.

“Look.”

You could not ignore Jim’s soft request. Instead of firing back at Tony as you so badly wanted to, you returned your attention to your husband. He tapped at a glowing blue circle about halfway down his thigh. From that light sprouted a complicated system of pulleys and joints and even more lights that sprawled across Jim’s legs and hips. So eager had you been to see him alive and moving that you hadn’t even noticed this addition to his body.

“Tony made these for me,” he said. “Without them, I wouldn’t be able to walk at all.”

Your mouth opened. Your mouth closed. Again. Again. Again. Still unable to think of any way to express your thoughts on the matter, you raised your head to look at Tony. You were surprised to find his brown eyes shining when they met your gaze.

“We’re still working out the kinks. Rhodey is—” Tony coughed a few times, then went on, “Rhodey is amazing. He’s doing great. Really great. I’m just trying to get the braces up to his speed.”

“We’re both getting there. Together.”

Tony shook his head, unwilling to accept Jim’s encouragement. His eyes and yours were trained on each other like magnets. “You weren’t supposed to show up until he was perfect. That’s why I didn’t call. I wanted to give him back to you good as new.”

“Tony…” Jim began, but once more Tony waved him off.

“I owe you both at least that much.”

Neither you nor Tony seemed able to figure out what to say to each other after that. At least you finally managed to break eye contact. He looked back at Jim, tried to smile, failed, and awkwardly stuck his hands in the front pockets of his pants. You turned your head to blink rapidly at the wall, cleared your throat again, and tried not to cry. After struggling to find words to say to Tony for another minute or so, you gave up and went back to Jim instead.

“You really think this is what you need? Not rehab at an actual hospital?” you asked.

He didn’t miss a beat. “I trust Tony. This is what I want to do.”

Normally, Tony would have taken this compliment and rubbed it in your face until it ground to dust. That day he didn’t react at all. Didn’t blink. Didn’t grin. Didn’t so much as offer a single quip. He seemed to be waiting for you to make the next move. His behavior threw you off, and the more you thought about it, the more you realized just how little Tony was acting like himself at all. The whole catastrophe with Steve—and Jim’s injury—must have really rattled him.

Then it hit you: Jim wasn’t just staying here for his own sake; he could never be that selfish. Tony needed Jim just then just as badly as Jim needed Tony. You couldn’t tear him away.

“Fine,” you said.

“Fine?” Tony echoed.

“What’s fine?” Jim asked.

“You can stay. I won’t drag you off to the nearest VA like I was planning to.”

“You won’t?” A hopeful note crept into Tony’s voice.

“Really?” said Jim.

“Really,” you answered.

They both cheered. If you’d given them the time, you suspected they might have actually embraced. You did not give them the time, however. Tony could change his mind just as quickly as you, so you needed to get things arranged as soon as possible. Neither he nor Jim noticed you taking a step away from them, but they couldn’t fail to hear you say:

“Just let me go get my bags out of the car.”

You made a beeline for the door you’d come through before either of them could register what you said. Such ringing silence could not last. No sooner had you placed your hand on the door handle than did Tony shake off the lingering shock.

“Wait. No one said anything about you staying,” he said as he came after you. “No, no. This is a secure facility! I’m sure we can find you a nice hotel nearby if you really feel you need to—”

“Tony,” said Jim.

“She’s not an Avenger!”

“Yeah, and neither are we much these days.”

Then Jim tried to get to his feet. It looked more to you like he was having a seizure. His feet scuffed against the floor while his fingers grasped the edge of the chair he sat on. Very slowly and very arduously, he finally managed to stand. You held everything you had inside you very, very still to prevent yourself from running over to him and helping him over to Tony’s side. He got there all on his own several agonizing minutes later. There he clapped Tony on the shoulder and shot him a tired smile.

“Besides, you knew when [Name] and I got married, she’d always be part of the package deal,” he said.

Tony’s lips pursed together at that. They squirmed for a long time. At last, without bothering to so much as look in your direction, he said, “Fine. She can stay.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

“But you have to say in the wing where we house the orphaned SHIELD agents!” Tony’s call followed you out of the compound and back onto the lot where your rental car sat waiting.

“Tony—” Jim began in a warning tone.

The door shutting behind you prevented you from hearing the quarrel that surely followed. Those two were always like that, especially when it came to you. As you hefted your two suitcases from the car’s trunk, though, you found you didn’t care. You didn’t care about having to listen to Jim and Tony argue until they were blue in the faces or drunk. You didn’t care about the fights you and Tony would get into when he inevitably got bored and started picking on you. You didn’t even care that it looked as though you and your husband would not be returning to your home in California soon or ever at all.

No, all you felt in that moment was grateful. Tony Stark might have put a lot of stock into the work of his own hands, modern architecture, and flashy tech—but he put more stock into his friendship with you and with Jim.

Summary:Natasha tends gets her way, if not always in the way that she expects.

Rating/Warnings: All (song lyrics as dialogue; Song Challenge; Post-Avengers (2012); SHIELD Agent!Reader; Avenger!Reade; Some Crack; Pre-Iron Man 3; Avengers Tower; absent!Thor)

Requester:@flintt

Request:  “Can I […] ask for a Bruce Banner fanfic? I was also wondering if y/n could just be a shield agent doing a singing challenge with co-workers and end up doing Banner (I like to think it’s overwhembled /the Ryan Mack Remix/) and he’s all smitten and in love. Pretty much fluff. Thanks. […] y/n is a really good singer and suggests them and their co-workers play a game, which y/n will summarize the avengers personality/love life/ whatever with a song.”

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Notes: Credit is given for the music within the work. Also, I must give a shout-out to my best friend IRL for coming up with the ending to this one shot back when I first mentioned what I was working on to her.

Silent No More

Silence had a funny way of turning the most mundane of tasks into an arduous affair. It could do so in more than one way, too. You could endure the thin, anxious silence waiting for the signal to begin acting out a mission. You could handle the heavy, poignant silence at the other end of a phone line when you called a family to inform them a fellow agent had died in the line of duty. But by far the hardest silence to sit through was standing alone in an elevator with your boss while he studiously typed out messages to someone else all the way down.

When the silver doors finally slid open to reveal Avengers Towers common area, you sucked in an enormous breath. Unstifled air at last! But you could not enjoy it for long. Director Fury stepped out onto the tile alongside you with his black coat billowing at his ankles. You struggled to match his long strides as you both headed in the direction of the second lift at the other end of the wide room. Whatever he and Maria were talking about must have been important; he still hadn’t said a single word since you left the interview. Had you screwed things up? Should you bring the question up yourself, or wait for him to start the lecture?

“[Name]!”

A familiar voice forced you to turn before either you or Director Fury reached the elevator to the main lobby. There at the kitchen table sat your close friend, Natasha Romanoff, and fellow SHIELD agent Clint Barton. Behind them in the kitchen itself stood another familiar figure: Bruce Banner, who seemed determined to pretend no one else was anywhere nearby.

Natasha caught your eye and waved you over. You shot Director Fury a questioning look. He was still, for all intents and purposes, your boss, as well as your ride home for the evening. Without even looking up from his communicator, he nodded.

“So, how did it go?” she asked upon your approach.

“Fine,” you answered.

“Meaning?”

“Meaning I got the job.”

She and Clint clapped enthusiastically. Maybe it was lingering anxiety from being trapped in a room for an hour while Director Fury, Steve Rogers, and Tony Stark shot questions at you, but their celebratory gesture only made your face grow warm. Then Natasha made things worse by kicking the chair across from her out from under the table and pointing imperiously at the empty seat.

“Sit,” she said.

So used to following her orders were you that you sat without a second thought. From that angle, you had a good view of Bruce’s wide shoulders straining a little against the fabric of his purple shirt. The scent of hot milk and spices rose from whatever he had on the stove; you wondered if he was making tea.

Natasha cleared her throat. Starting, you returned your attention to her—but that didn’t convince her it had always been there. Her green eyes slid knowingly in Bruce’s direction and back to your face. Her smile grew as she pushed an upside-down baseball cap across the table to you. It rustled strangely as it moved, and the reason soon became clear: A number of folded paper slips sat inside.

“Welcome to the team,” she said. “I hope you didn’t think this would get you out of our little game.”

Horrified, you gazed down at the hat. All of the papers inside seemed to writhe around like venomous snakes. Though Clint had not spoken a single word since your arrival, you could see him smirking over the lip of his coffee mug. You knew exactly what he found so amusing, too: The vague warmth against the back of your head told you that Director Fury had followed you to the table—and he was probably still busy talking to Maria. That wouldn’t mean he wasn’t keeping track of your conversation, though; the World Security Council did not pay him to be unobservant.

Did Natasha, your so-called “friend,” have any sympathy for your plight? Of course she didn’t. She just jostled that hat by its brim and reminded you, “This whole thing was youridea.”

“I know,” you moaned.

“So what’s the hold up?”

“That was before.”

“Before what?”

You couldn’t help stealing another glance at the back of Bruce’s dark curly head. Was he listening in? How could he not? Nothing else was going on in the common area, and making tea didn’t cause a lot of noise.

“Before I joined the Avengers,” you answered in an undertone.

“Oh, but I have to play? I’ve been an Avenger from the beginning.”

“Then let’s call the whole thing off. I’ll just see you guys tomorrow, shall—”

As you stood to beat a hasty retreat, Clint grabbed your elbow and pulled you back into your chair. “Nice try, [Name].”

“You aren’t chickening out of this now,” said Natasha. “Not after I’ve already completed one round.”

“What? Who did you get?” you demanded.

Clint raised the hand that gripped you into the air.

“That’s not fair. How did you draw your best friend right off the bat? Did she even really sing to you?” you asked Clint.

“Of course she did. Why would I lie about a thing like that?” he asked you in return.

“Because, as previously stated, you’re her best friend.”

“I am shocked and appalled you think I’m capable of such outright dishonesty with such meager motivation.”

“Prove it then. What song did she sing to you?”

Clint opened his mouth, but Natasha put a hand on his shoulder. He grinned, drained the last of whatever was in his cup, and set it down on the table with an exaggerated smack of his lips.

“Sorry, [Name].” He didn’t sound it. “My lips are sealed. Natasha swore me to secrecy, and you know how thatgoes.”

You sure did, and knowing made you all the more suspicious. Clint and Natasha often acted as a unit. What she wanted, she usually got. If she needed help from her partner in crime, you hadn’t come across a situation yet where he refused to help her. Huffing, you threw yourself back against your chair and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I don’t believe either of you.”

These words bothered Natasha not at all. With a flourish, she pulled her cell phone out, shaking it a little so that its glassy screen caught the lights above your heads. “That’s okay. I’ve got video proof. Oh, I don’t think so,” she added when you made a futile grab for the phone. “You can see the recording after you wrap up yourassignment.”

Unconvinced, you looked again at Clint. He might have been willing to do just about anything for Natasha, but lying was not one of those things. Not in circumstances where no one’s life was in danger, at least.

“Itwas a pretty spectacular show,” he said.

You threw your hands into the air. “Ugh! Fine! Give me the hat.”

She held it out again. You plunged your hand into the waiting pool of slips before you could change your mind. Maybe you’d get lucky. Maybe you’d pick some guy assigned to Helicarrier duty for the next three months. Maybe you'd—

“Oh, that’s perfect!” Natasha said.

The paper unfolded read “Bruce Banner.”

“Yourigged this.” You leveled your deadliest glare at her, the one that occasionally caused hardened terrorists to drop their weapons without firing at your team. “I don’t know how you rigged this, but this is all your doing.”

“Don’t be a spoil sport, [Name]. Director, why don’t you go ahead and draw your assignment now?”

She thrust the hat up toward your heretofore wordless boss. When you twisted in your seat, you saw him stop rattling away on his communicator just long enough to look from the hat to Natasha’s face.

“Don’t make me fire you, Agent Romanoff,” he said.

“That’s all right.” She cheerfully sat the hat down at her elbow. “I’ll use that sleight of hand [Name] has accused me of to make sure no one gets to Tony’s slip before you.”

“Hey. What are you guys up to?” asked a new voice.

All four of you slowly moved your heads to see Bruce standing nearby. He had one hand in his pocket; the other held a steaming mug.

“Nothing,” Natasha said with a radiant smile.

“Nothing you’d be interested in,” Clint added.

“Nothing you need to be involved in, Dr. Banner,” said Director Fury. “With the only person capable of wrestling the Hulk into submission still in Asgard, I’d prefer you to keep your stress levels at a minimum.”

A brief pause followed this suggestion. Bruce licked his lips. You watched a faint line on his forehead deepen for a moment. Then the line vanished to be replaced by a thin smile.

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll just go see if Tony wants any help in the lab today. Congratulations on making the team, [Name]. Or maybe I should offer you my condolences?”

With that, he took his tea and shuffled off to the elevator you and Director Fury had vacated. Only after he disappeared behind the metal doors did the rest of your group relax.

“That was close,” said Clint.

“Very,” Fury agreed.

The rapid key tapping resumed. Natasha got up from the table to do something in the kitchen. Clint slurped at the nothing that remained in his cup. You, on the other hand, stared wordlessly at the paper clenched between your hands. Keeping Bruce in the dark was part of the game. He couldn’t know what was going on until you revealed it all to him. Had it been your imagination that he looked hurt over being told to stay out of it? Director Fury, at least, sounded awfully sincere about wanting Bruce to avoid all stress.

******

The first steps you took into your new home later that week hardly gave you the opportunity to get a good look at your surroundings. All you could tell was that they were big. As far a cry from D.C. as Manhattan was to begin with, your floor on Avengers Tower could not have been more different than the studio apartment you’d left behind.

Figures filled and moved throughout the area, providing even more distraction. As you and Natasha strode through the lobby of your home, arms laden with moving boxes, a platoon of Iron Man suits kept busy moving, adjusting, unpacking, disposing. And at the center of all this stood Tony Stark himself.

“How much more you got left, [Name]?” he asked as you neared his station in the living room. “Not that these guys need lunch, but I sure could use a break.”

“Why don’t you come downstairs and take a look yourself? We’d get it done faster if one of us wasn’t hanging out up here doing nothing,” Natasha said.

Tony looked affronted. “Nothing? Nothing? If I leave my post, who’s going to supervise this lot? You guys don’t have the control chip installed.”

“They could alsohelp unload the truck.”

“Nope. Sorry. No can do. These boys need to be kept on the D.L. until I’ve got all the kinks worked out.”

“Kinks?” you asked. “What kinks?”

“Nothing you need to worry about. All I’m saying is, I bring them outside just in time for the delivery kid to show up, and bam! One YouTube video later, the whole world knows what I'm—Hey! Mk. XXIV! Don’t you dare drop that! Don’t you—What did I justsay?”

A tremendous crashing sound caused the floor to shake.

“No kinks to worry about?” Natasha asked.

“Hold that thought,” Tony said as he stepped around you both and headed back the way you’d come. “Do you want to join DUM-E in the basement? So help me God, I’ll put you on mopping duty if that’s what you’re after!”

“Please tell me that wasn’t my grandmother’s china cabinet,” you said.

Natasha looked over her shoulder at the mess for you. “Doesn’t look like it. Looks like it might have been the coffee table Tony already put up here.”

“Thank God. I don’t have enough furniture to fill this place up as it is.”

“Lucky for you it comes pre-furnished.” Something behind you made a horrible, sharp squealing noise. Tony’s frustrated shouting resumed. “So long as Tony gets his Iron Legion under control.”

“Maybe we should take my dinnerware to a safer location.”

“Good idea.”

The sounds of groaning and crunching faded as you and Natasha slipped into your floor’s private kitchen. None of the drones had come that far back yet. In your hands you carried the first box of cookware. You slid it onto the waiting bar counter, tore it open, and began to pull out drinking glasses before any Iron Legion members could come in and break these as well.

“So,” Natasha said, setting down her own box next to yours. You liked her tone not at all.

“So what?”

“How’s the Song Challenge coming along? Have you picked something for Bruce yet?”

Of course that would be what was on her mind. Ever since she’d read the name on the slip you drew, Natasha had inundated you with texts, voicemails, and video calls about your plan. She seemed to think this was your big chance to show Bruce how you felt about him instead of what it really was: Your big chance to embarrass him and yourself in front of all his coworkers, irrevocably ruining any kind thoughts he had toward you.

“I don’t know if you missed the memo, Nat,” you had to stand on your tiptoes to reach the shelf you wanted, “but I’ve been a little busy this week packing my entire life into numerous boxes.”

“Exactly my point. Plenty of time for you to think. I’ve already wrapped up assignment number two.”

“What? Who did you get for that one?”

More importantly, when did she find the time? Apocalypse-level threats to Earth did not arise every single day, but surely the Avengers kept themselves busy. Why else hire on a seventh member?

Someone from over by the doorway cleared their throat. At first they appeared to be a tower of cardboard boxes on two thick legs. Then the someone stepped into the room and carefully dropped the boxes onto the empty kitchen table. Steve looked a little embarrassed, and it didn’t take long for you to figure out why.

“Speak of the Devil,” Natasha said with a grin.

You glared at her. “Seriously? Steve? You got Steve, and you’ve already sung to him.”

“I’ll have everyone else taken care of, too, at the rate you’re going. Don’t spend long on your break, Steve. And don’t tell her anything.”

With this final warning ringing in the air, she slid around Steve and out into the hall. You tore open the box containing your cutlery. What else could you do? Having worked occasionally with the Avengers as a SHIELD agent didn’t mean you had any clue how to act alone around Captain America.

“If it helps,” he said into the awkward silence, “she isn’t lying.”

“I don’t suppose you’ve got any proof of that.”

Steve shook his head. “You heard her. I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and find out my social security number doesn’t exist anymore. I can’t imagine you want that either.”

“I guess not,” you admitted grudgingly. Steve, at least, could probably get his identity back. Seeing as you didn’t so much as have a code name yet, Natasha could wreak much more havoc on your life if she chose to do so.

“But [Name].”

You looked at him.

“I always tell the truth.”

It would have been impossible to disbelieve him anyway when he furrowed his brows and filled his blue eyes with sincerity like that. Even if hugely muscled, all-American soldiers weren’t your type, Steve looked so handsome and earnest just then that you couldn’t even muster up an eye roll. All you could do was say:

“Right.”

Natashahad told him to not be take much time talking to you; she wouldn’t wait long before she came back to double-check he wasn’t spilling the beans about her song routine. You expected him to leave once you turned your back to fill an open drawer with silverware. Instead, when you went to retrieve a handful of spoons, you found him a few feet away loading plates into a cabinet.

“So, you’re having trouble coming up with something for Dr. Banner?” he asked.

“Er…yeah.” So surprised were you that Steve could speak to you like a normal human being that it took a second or two of staring before you remembered you were supposed to be unpacking. “I know he’ll probably hate the attention either way, but I want to pick something he’ll like—or at least something that won’t embarrass him too badly.”

“Want some help?”

“No thanks. I’ll think of something. I’m not sure that anything from the 1930s would be appropriate for Bruce.”

Steve did not deny listening exclusively to music from his own time period unless Tony forced him to do otherwise. “Well, if you change your mind?”

“I’ll let you know.”

“You’ll think of something good. I think it will be good for Dr. Banner to get a little positive attention.”

“No pressure, right?”

“I didn’t say that to pressure you. For what it’s worth—”

Cardboard scraping against cardboard cut through whatever he intended to say. Speak of the Devil was right! Behind the new boxes stood Bruce of all people. His dark eyes moved between your and Steve’s faces. He, Bruce, seemed to realize he had walked in the middle of something, because he licked his lips and forced a smile, an expression of his you were rapidly growing accustom to.

“Sorry,” he said. “I only managed to carry a couple of boxes up.”

“Every little bit helps,” Steve assured him, but Bruce continued to fidget with his hands.

“The Hulk could probably get the whole truck up here in one go, but—”

“He’d wind up smashing everything to pieces. Better not risk it.”

Color crept into Bruce’s cheeks. “That’s what I was getting at.”

Poor Bruce. He looked so uncomfortable. If only you could say something to crack the sudden tension that filled the kitchen. But what could you say? You got only as far as opening your mouth when he turned, shoulders hunched, to leave the room.

“I’d best get back down there and grab a few more things,” he said. “Can’t have puny Banner failing to pull his own weight, right?”

“Dr. Banner,” Steve began, but Bruce did not pause in his retreat. “Dr. Banner!”

“Bruce? What’s up?” you heard Tony ask from the other room. If Bruce gave him an answer, you didn’t hear it.

Steve let out a sharp sigh.

“I should go apologize. That was out of line. Natasha’s probably looking for me anyway. You good in here alone?”

You nodded as you tore into one of the boxes Bruce brought up. The only current threat nearby was to your material possessions, not to your physical well-being. Nothing more needed to be said after Steve ducked out. If you’d tried to speak, you’d probably have told Captain America that he ought to apologize, and you couldn’t say that to your new boss. Actually, Bruce probably deserved an apology from you as well, assuming he’d heard any part of your conversation with Steve. Maybe you should head down to the lobby, too…

Crash! Bang! Screech!

“Are you kidding me?” Tony cried.

On second thought, your things might be safer if you stayed right where you were.

******

Tonydid eventually get his drones to do the jobs he wanted them to do. Unpacking your things became significantly easier after that. In fact, he even got them to put several items of furniture that they had broken back together. Your bookshelves almost looked as good as new—not that you had time to look for obvious cracks when Steve assigned you to training with different team members every day of the remaining week. With so few actual missions on the schedule, it was no wonder Natasha could spend all that time shuttling back and forth between Avengers Tower and SHIELD HQ for the Song Challenge! Meanwhile, the rest of the team kept you so busy you hardly had five minutes to yourself to think of anything for your onechallenge.

Friday afternoon provided you the first free hour of time since you’d settled in. Showered and aching, you headed down to the common floor with the hope of overhearing something about Natasha’s efforts. The hope was slim; she had everyone terrified into silence. You stepped into the room to find her, Clint, and Steve crowded around Tony on the sofa. Tony was holding up his cell phone, and from its speakers blared music and the unmistakable sound of Natasha’s singing voice.

The very second the lift doors closed behind you, all four of them looked up. Tony turn off his phone and slipped into his pocket right away. You scowled as you stalked over to collapse on the armchair near them.

“Don’t let me stop you from having a good time,” you said.

“You’re not,” said Tony.

“You’re giving Natasha an excuse to snap our necks,” said Clint.

The woman in question gave Clint a playful smack on the back of his head. He smiled at her.

“Get a room,” you muttered, sliding further into your chair.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Still having trouble with your Song Challenge?” Natasha hopped up from her seat only to come perch on one of your chair arms. The withering look you sent her again had no effect on her.

“Mine is going fine, thank you for asking.”

“Hey, there’s no shame in admitting defeat,” Clint said.

“You don’t know Bruce as well as we do,” Tony put in. “Maybe you should call it quits and see if Romanoff will give you someone else. Someone…simpler?”

“You’re the simplest person around here to understand,” Steve said.

“I only keep things simple for you Cap. We all realize your primitive mind can’t grasp our modern-day nuances.”

“If this is a simpleness competition, I think [Name] wins,” said Clint. “She can’t even think of one song and dance routine to perform for Bruce, and Natasha’s already finished four.”

“Makes you wonder if she’s cut out for the Avengers,” Natasha agreed.

“Oh, shut up.” You knew you sounded sour, but did she have to rub it in? “Anyway, Barton, I don’t know where you get off nagging me. Your deadline is up tomorrow.”

He flicked his hand dismissively. “I took care of Maria on Tuesday.”

This news caused you to bury your face in your hands in frustration. “Is everyone going to beat me to the punch? This whole thing was myidea!”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, but your work on this is not going to reflect well upon you in your next employee review,” Tony said, then added when you lifted your face to glower at him, “We’re teasing you, [Name]. You’re one of us now. You’d better get used to it.”

A quiet whoosh announced yet another addition to the group. Out of the elevator slouched Bruce. He took one look at you all gathered there without him, most everyone smiling, and then quickly looked away. You noticed that Tony’s eyes followed Bruce’s circuitous route around the sitting room into the kitchen just as yours did. There Bruce opened the refrigerator and stuck his head inside it without so much as greeting anyone sitting there a few feet away.

When you looked again at Tony, he smirked. That you found odd—or did, until he called:

“Hey, Bruce. Why don’t you quit hiding in the fridge over there and join us?”

He pulled his head free only far enough that he could see you all. “Huh?”

“There’s room on the couch.” Tony waved Bruce over. “Or [Name]’s other chair arm is free. You could get to know her, since you’ve been avoiding all your training exercises with her.”

That explained why you still hadn’t had gone any rounds with Bruce in the gym upstairs. Why would he avoid you? You tried to surreptitiously give him a good once-over, as though you could glean why he had such an aversion to spending time with you specifically with just a glance. He caught your eye as you did and hastily twisted around so he could hold out his hands, fingers spread wide in front of him.

“That’s okay. You guys look cozy. I’ll just make some tea and be on my way,” he said.

“You could make tea on your own floor if you wanted to be antisocial. Come on. Sit.”

“Ireally don’t think that’s at all advisable.”

“Sit! Sit! Sit!” Clint started to chant.

“Sit! Sit! Sit!” Natasha joined in.

It didn’t take long for Tony to take up the words himself. Only you and Steve remained silent, and the latter not for long as you watched Bruce try and fail several time to interrupt their chorus, Steve lifted his own hands to his shoulders. His glare succeed in shutting every single one of them, even Tony.

“There’s no need to heckle Dr. Banner,” Steve said. “If he doesn’t want to be around us, he doesn’t have to be.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to be around you guys,” Bruce mumbled.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to us. Trust me, I know how stressful talking to Tony for any length of time can be.”

“Hey! I resemble that remark,” said Tony.

Steve shot him another withering look, then returned his attention to Bruce. “If you ever feel like we get to be too much, leave the room. No one will think any less of you. It’s safer for all of us if you don’t have the temptation to turn.”

“Cap,” Tony began, but his warning tone went nowhere. Bruce broke in by snapping the refrigerator shut behind.

“Yeah, I think I get the gist,” he said.

After that, Bruce tried to make back to the lift. He didn’t notice you standing so abruptly that you nearly knocked Natasha off her perch. He didn’t see you running to intercept him. But he did see you once you stood blocking his path, and he immediately came to a halt.

“[Name]?” he asked, brown eyes wide.

You could feel everyone else’s wide eyes riveted on you as well. Part of you thought things might go smoother for your integration into the team if you did nothing more than apologize to Bruce for making him uncomfortable and sit back down. If you did that, however, you’d never hear the end of it. Tony probably would bring your failure to complete your own challenge up on your employee review just for kicks. Besides, you got the feeling that if you let Bruce vanish on you now, you’d never get another opportunity to show him what you’d thought up.

“Are you all right?” Bruce prompted you, after a good half a minute passed without you saying anything.

To answer his question, you took a deep breath. He looked as though he was going to ask again, so you cut him off by starting to sing:

“I get overwhelmed so easily. My anxiety creeps inside of me, makes it so hard to breathe.”

No, your voice was too quiet. Could the man in front of you hear you? All he was doing was frowning at you still. You continued on with the song, growing a little louder with each line until you reached the first verse at full volume:

“But these doubts are haunting me. Oh, why’s it always right before I fall asleep that—”

“JAR?” Tony said. “Play Overwhelmed by Ryan Mack through the speakers. And rip out the voice track!”

“Of course, sir.”

You dove into the chorus as the music swelled around you. Bruce’s frown slowly faded away. Now he looked incredulous. Probably he could not believe he’d entered a universe in which his new coworker would just belt out a song to him in front of all his friends and other coworkers. Would you let that deter you? Not now. In fact, the musical accompaniment gave you the courage to dance along. Your moves were nothing compared to what you figured Natasha’s were, but at least you weren’t just standing there doing nothing anymore.

“I get over…well, well, well, would you look at that? Another person telling me to just ‘relax.’ ‘Calm down and take it easy. Everything will be okay.’ Yeah, sure.”

The astonishment on Bruce’s face twisted into an enormous grin, and he didn’t stop smiling for the rest of your song. All the while, the rest of the Avengers clapped along to the beat piping in from the ceiling.

“I get overwhelmed!”

A brief pause followed this conclusion. Then the group in the living room burst into applause. You couldn’t have cared less about their reaction either way. The only person’s you did care about was Bruce’s. He still hadn’t stopped smiling.

“Isthis what Natasha’s been doing all week that everyone’s being so secretive about?” he asked.

“Yes,” you said, then hastened to explain, “It was my idea. We’re all supposed to draw someone’s name out of a hat and pick a song to sing to them that summarizes them.”

“And you just had to go and draw my name.”

“No! I wanted you. Natasha probably made sure I did. I—I think you’re really sweet, Bruce. I realize this might not be the best way to tell you that, though.”

“No, it was. I loved it.”

You gaped at him. “You did?”

“Yeah. It was perfect. Maybe after training sometime, you and I could—”

All the lights on the floor went out.

“Very funny, Tony,” Bruce said.

“It’s not me,” Tony replied. “JARVIS? Lights, please!”

JARVIS did not respond. The only light came now from the button glowing beside the lift down to the tower’s lower floors. Bruce took your hands in his, presumably to shove you behind him if it came down to a fight. You held your breath until the elevator doors slid open to reveal a shadowed figure that stepped out onto the floor.

“Hey, buddy. Bad call breaking into this place,” Clint said.

A spotlight cut through the darkness. You could not make out who the person was at this distance, only that their clothing sparkled. Ominous music began to fill the room.

“You think you came up with piping in your own background music?” Tony said. “Come back when you’ve got something more original.”

The figure said nothing as it drew closer and closer to the Avengers. Multicolored lights swarmed suddenly across everyone’s faces. Whoever it was struck a pose only a few feet from the couch, and it hit you: It was Director Fury, wearing the same outfit he normally did but with glitter covering his trench coat and eye patch. He launched into his own song:

“Make his fight on the hill in the early day, constant chill deep inside.”

“What the hell?” you heard several of those gathered say. Their confusion did not prevent Director Fury from dancing his way right up to a stunned Tony Stark.

“For whom the bell tolls, time marches on. Sing it!”

Slack jawed, Tony did not blink at all between that moment and the end of Director Fury’s performance. No, it was more than that: Tony didn’t move. No one did. By the time the last notes of Metallica’s For Whom the Bell Tolls faded into nothingness and all the lights flicked back on, your hands had grown warm and moist inside of Bruce’s. Everyone one sat staring like that for what felt ages before Tony made a sudden grab for his phone.

Director Fury snatched Tony’s arm and held it in place. “No one will ever believe you.”

Without uttering another word, Director Fury turned, twinkling, to stride back to the elevator doors through which he’d come. You all remained too stunned to speak for several minutes after he vanished behind them.

“Well,” Natasha said at last, “I think we can all agree on who won [Name]’s Song Challenge.”

A murmur of assent rose from the group.

One by one, each member of the team seem to thaw. Bruce squeezed your hands before releasing you at last. Sure, you might have lost out on the overall win, but you’d won his heart. That was something that even Director Fury wouldn’t be stealing away from you any time soon.

Summary: For nine years, you raised the little sister your parents would never see grow. For nine years, you put blood and sweat and tears—sometimes your own, sometimes that of others—into your gruesome work. For nine years, you promised your little family a better life. Then, on the eve of happily ever after, all that is snatched away in the name of revenge. There’s only one group of people capable of rescuing your sister from those who murdered your parents. The thing is, they might not be so willing to help once they discover who (or what) you are…or maybe, just maybe, they might love you in spite of it.

Ratings/Warnings: T (sexual references, mild foul language, canon divergence Post-Avengers (2012), violence, slow burn, France depicted by a non-French writer, no Laura Barton)

Pairings:Clint Barton/Female!Reader; Natasha Romanoff/Bruce Banner; Tony Stark/Pepper Potts

Tag List: @imaginesfire​

Master List

Chapter 2: Thanks for the Warning

Your father told you once many years ago that one day you would return to New York City. You’d been seven at the time, eager and excited to be somewhere so starkly different from your home in Arizona—and to see your father at work. All the glitter, all the lights, so many people! You couldn’t wait to come back with your parents someday soon, someday when it was safe, someday when there wasn’t a job to do.

As you watched the dark shapes of the many skyscrapers covered in squares of brilliant whites and blues slide past your taxi window, you couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm of your childhood. Your father probably hadn’t imagined that everything would be different the next time you saw the city, except for the city itself. No family, no safety, only work to look forward to. You wouldn’t even be in the country long enough to enjoy the sights if all went according to plan.

“So, how long are you in town for?” the cabbie asked. The brown eyes set underneath his thick, dark eyebrows flashed at you in the rearview mirror. You appreciated his breaking into your thoughts; answering him prevented you from dwelling on what could not be changed.

“I leave first thing tomorrow.” You slipped easily back into the American Midwestern accent you’d adopted since arriving in the city. “I’ve got business to take care of out of the country.”

“And you only got in this evening?”

“I had a layover. Why waste it?”

“That’s some turnaround just to see Central Park!”

“I couldn’t resist looking at the ice-skating rink. My dad took me there once when I was a little girl.”

“Oh, yeah? Where’s he now?”

“Dead. Like the rest of my family.”

Your driver made a strange spluttering sound. Lucky for him, a spot along 5th Avenue opened up, allowing him to pull in without inflicting any further awkward conversations upon either of you. You hopped out, paid him his fare—plus a tip—and then headed for the information kiosk ahead on Terrace while he waited for someone new to flag him down.

Early March after sunset was not as popular time for the Central Park skating rink as earlier months might have been. It could not be helped. You had left Paris as soon and as surreptitiously as you could without attracting suspicion. A few slow laps around the ice were enough for you to find a crowd of young adults to follow back out of the park. Their chattered faded when you parted from them to turn right on 5th, but by then you could gauge your speed by walking with the other pedestrians. No one gave the woman carrying a pair of ice skates and a heavy backpack a second look.

And there was your destination in front of you, lit up like a beacon piercing the glowing sky above. Avengers Tower shone brighter than all the buildings around it; you could not have missed it if you tried. Nothing major must have been going on that night either. More people than you’d seen in Central Park spilled across the tower’s steps. Many of those people were in costume; enough weren’t that you blended in with the numerous fans and protesters as you climbed up to the glass doors.

You expected the empty lobby at nine o'clock in the evening. Nothing stirred the shadows less than an inch from your nose. Not a light blinked. Tony Stark would have the best security system in the world installed, though, probably one he’d built himself. That you could count on. One wrong move, and all your careful work just to get this far would come crashing down around your ears.

“I wouldn’t stand there too long if I were you.”

Turning at the sound of a male voice, you found only one person close enough to speak to you. A few feet away stood a man painted head-to-toe in metallic gold and red. He rotated his entire body to meet your eyes, and it hit you: He was a street performer decked out to match his location.

“I mean it.” His fingers mechanically motioned you closer. “Too many fans attempting to breach the lobby after hours lately. They’ve updated their security. I saw a girl get blasted down to the sidewalk last night. Unless you’re looking for that sort of thrill…”

You quickly stepped away from the danger zone and over to your new friend. An upturned hat filled with coins and dollar bills sat at the base of the pedestal he stood atop. Well, preventing you from getting caught before you got started had to be worth something.

“Thanks for the warning,” you said, and pulled out a dollar from your wallet to drop in the hat.

Through the throng of Iron Mans, Black Widows, Thors, and Captain Americas you traipsed. Occasionally, you stopped to take a selfie with one that stood at a strategic point along your path. The photos, however, told you nothing other than that Tony Stark didn’t keep a security guard stationed in his building’s lobby at night. And why would he? They had a Hulk, and you wouldn’t doubt the team would utilize that the second they caught wind of anyone trying to force their way through the front doors.

Fortunately, you’d only ever planned to use the front door as a last resort.

******

Nine o'clock. The stage was set. All the lamps in Tony’s living quarters were dimmed. Most of the glasses next to each person’s seat were drained of liquor. A mound of cash sat in the center of the table. Only two players remained. Tony and Steve eyed one another warily. No one else moved. Everyone held their breaths, waiting for the big reveal.

“Four of a kind,” Steve announced as he slapped four aces and a ten of spades on the table.

Whatever Tony had, he didn’t bother saying. He scattered his cards across the table and dropped his head into his arms with a theatrical groan. Even from this angle, Clint could tell Tony’s hand hadn’t had a hope of beating Steve’s. Natasha and Bruce cheered.

“That’s the third time tonight, Rogers.” Tony lifted his head high enough to glare at the man across from him. “You’re cheating. There’s no other explanation for it!”

“If he is, you haven’t managed to prove it yet,” Natasha said.

“That’s because you’re all aiding and abetting him. You want me to lose.”

“Hey,I was rooting for you,” Bruce put in.

Tony glowered at him, too. “You’re sleeping with the enemy now, Big Guy. I can’t trust you. Who knows what she can convince you to do once she’s got you between the sheets?”

As if to prove Tony’s point for him, Natasha entwined her fingers with the hand Bruce had resting on the table, then leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Bruce turned pink but shot her a shy smile. Clint rolled his eyes away from this nauseating sight.

“See?” Tony said. “She probably told you to drop out as soon as you could to make sure I’d be trapped in a game alone with Le Chiffre here!”

“That’s putting an awful lot of stock in Bruce’s poker skill that I haven’t seen yet,” Clint remarked.

“This coming from the first guy to fold.”

“It’s not my fault you guys play for such high stakes. Some of us aren’t made of money, you know? I’m practically homeless.”

“Please. You live rent free in the most exclusive place in town. I think you can afford to put a little something in the pot.”

“Says the billionaire,” Clint grumbled. What little money he earned from a paycheck severely cut by superheroics he preferred to keep to himself, not that Tony cared. But Clint supposed he wouldn’t care much if he raked in the kind of cash Tony had for his entire life.

“Anyway, that’s not the point!” Leaping to his feet, Tony pointed dramatically at Steve. “My point is, how did someone whose entire shtick is embodying truth, justice, and the American way get so good at poker?”

Steve eyes flitted around the table, perhaps looking for an out. No one offered him one. “When I couldn’t keep a job, I had to find some way to help Bucky pay the rent. I’ve had a lot of practice playing people a lot tougher than you.”

“So you admit it! You arecheating.”

“Well, if you’re so sure, I can think of one way for you to prove it.”

“What’s that?”

Steve smiled. “Play another round. And this time, pay real close attention.”

The same tension as before filled the room. Bruce and Natasha’s gaze remained riveted on Tony. Clint idly wondered if he could slip away unseen while everyone waited for Tony to make a decision. Then, before Clint could push out his chair and make a run for it, Tony sat back down.

“Deal me in,” he said.

“I’m game,” Natasha agreed.

“I can go one more,” said Bruce.

“Sir?” JARVIS’s voice cut smoothly though the renewed trash talk. He didn’t wait for anyone to acknowledge him before continuing, “My sensors indicate someone is attempting to scale the building.”

That brought an end to the dealing at once.

“What?”

“Again?”

“Now?”

“I guess this puts an end to our game,” Steve said ruefully. “I was going to go for Tony’s Spyder next.”

“In your dreams, Rogers. I’ve got your number. I was just about to win everything back.”

“If you’re so sure about that, why not wager the car?”

“This hardly addresses the problem at hand, boys,” Natasha interrupted. “The game can go on, but first we need to decide who has to go retrieve the intruder, preferably before they find anything to put up on eBay.”

“It’s probably just another one of Tony’s ex-girlfriend,” said Bruce.

“So that’s me out of the running,” Tony said.

“Why does that make it not your job?” Steve asked.

“Because if I go, who knows what she’ll do? I break her heart, she grabs the nearest potted plant and breaks my face.”

“A real tragedy.”

“Maybe a plant to the face would improve your looks, Rogers, but some of us don’t need an adjustment.”

“I’ll go.”

Natasha and Bruce exchanged a look. Tony and Steve went as far as pausing in their bickering to stare at the man now standing next to his chair.

“Clint? You sure?” Bruce asked.

Clint had already made it to the door. He waved Bruce’s concern away. “This game’s too rich for my blood anyway. You guys go ahead.”

“Hey, better you than me, Legolas,” said Tony.

“You might not feel that way here in a few minutes,” Steve said.

“Mark my words, Rogers, in a few minutes, you’re gonna be the one wishing he went on peel-the-fangirl-off -the-wall duty.”

“That’s right. Keep your eyes on each other. No one consider how badly I might like a new car,” Natasha said.

As the argument over who would win this round of Texas Hold'em resumed, Clint moved rapidly away from Tony’s sitting room. The floor containing the more common areas, such as the bar and Bruce’s laboratory, was only a few floors away. Clint shoved the door to the stairwell open with his shoulder and dashed up the stairs, relieved to be away from the rest of the group. Hanging around Bruce and Natasha was sickening enough; throw in Steve and Tony’s near-inability to pay attention to anyone but each other (especially whenever Pepper flew back to Malibu for work), and Clint felt like the fifth wheel on a very ungainly bicycle.

He made a beeline for the weapons cache the second he reached the correct floor. From there, he pulled out the waiting bow and a quiver of trick arrows—then grabbed a few real arrows just in case. There’d been an influx in attempts to break in to the various Avengers’ living quarters since Tony displayed the whole place in a Home and Gardens magazine, but they couldn’t assume every intruder would be someone relatively harmless and in search of nothing more than celebrity underwear to sell for a quick buck.

“Which way are they coming up, JARVIS?” Clint asked the ceiling, once he was prepared.

JARVIS answered promptly: “The unidentified climber is making their way up the northeast side of the building. Their current whereabouts are near floor 83.”

“How about that? A new record.”

Whoever they were, they didn’t have far to go. Clint picked up the pace. As he reached the building’s back wall of windows, he snapped his bow into shape and nocked one of the trick arrows. Hopefully he wouldn’t have to fire anything more dangerous than a rope should the stranger slip upon seeing him.

“I have unlocked the panel directly in front of you,” JARVIS announced.

“Thanks, pal.”

Wind blasted into the room the moment Clint pushed the window open it. Nearby objects rattled and papers skittered across the floor. No noise issued from outside except for the faint and steady honking from the traffic one fatal drop below. He stuck his body out only enough to aim his bow and arrow downward.

“You know, we’ve got an awfully nice public lobby about 85 floors from your current position. Maybe you could try visiting that sometime, preferably during daylight hours. Someone there might even agree to sign something for you, provided it’s legally purchased.”

Silence. Clint slowly lowered his bow and squinted into the darkness below. The alley, though not as well-lit as the front of the tower, caught enough of the blue glow from the giant “A” for him to confirm his immediate suspicion: No one clung there to respond to his quip. He waited there for another half a minute, though, as if expecting someone to poke their head out from a lower level once they thought he’d left.

“JARVIS?” he said as he ducked back inside. “You sure they were on the northeast side of the building?”

“Yes, sir,” the AI replied.

“Do you sense anyone there anymore? ‘Cause I didn’t see anybody just now, and we both know my sight’s about the only thing I contribute around here.”

“I sense no one actively touching the building outside at all. How odd. It’s as though they simply vanished.”

“Let’s hope it’s some hocus-pocus like that. The alternatives are a hell of a lot worse.”

Maybe it was his many years as a SHIELD operative. Maybe it was his time as Loki’s unwilling puppet. Whatever the reason, Clint didn’t let go of his bow or remove his arrow from the string. His eyes scanned every window he passed on his way back to the rest of the group. This time, he took the elevator, ears straining every second for the sound of shattering glass or an uninvited passenger coming along for the ride. Nothing like that happened, and he returned to the room without incident.

“That was quick,” Tony remarked at Clint’s appearance. “You holding out some latent teleportation powers on us, Barton?”

“Do you need help restraining them?” Steve asked, eyeing Clint’s still-readied weapon.

Clint shook his head. “There was nobody there.”

“Were you doing any experiments with JARVIS earlier?” Bruce asked Tony.

“No.” Tony sat his cards facedown on the table and sat up a little straighter. “JARVIS? Is there something going on with your programming?”

“Not that I can tell, sir. One minute, my security systems detected a human biosignal moving up the northeast side of the tower. The next, they did not,” JARVIS replied.

“Run a self diagnostic.”

“I’ve already begun. Nothing seems amiss. I can find no signs of a break-in either.”

Bruce tossed his hand to the table without further discussion. “I’ll go to the ground floor and see if I can find anyone. I wasn’t going to last much longer anyway.”

“Might want to grab a spatula on the way out!” Tony called as Bruce disappeared into the hall.

“Very funny,” Steve said stonily.

“You know, I imagine Pepper’s going to say the exact same thing when I tell her she has to file a claim with our insurance. Same tone and everything. Amazing.”

“That really shouldn’t be our primary concern right now.”

“What should be?” Natasha asked with a cheeky smile. “You really have a one track mind if you’re still focused on the game.”

“I—”

“I am detecting multiple human biosignals now, sir.”

“Outside?” Clint asked, already headed back the way he’d come from.

“No. Inside the building. One is in the bar. One is Miss Potts’ private office. I have third reading in the lobby, a fourth in Captain Roger’s bedroom, and another in the records room.”

Natasha, Steve, and Tony joined Clint on their feet. Everyone gazed expectantly at Steve for orders. He looked at each of them in turn as he rattled them off:

“Tony, you check Pepper’s office. I’ll get the one in my quarters. JARVIS, tell Dr. Banner to check the lobby since he’s the closest.”

“I’ll hit the records room,” Clint volunteered.

“Oh, sure, the one that’s probably a false alarm?” Tony smirked. “No one’s getting anything out of there with JARVIS on the job. Why don’t you join Natasha at the bar? At least I’ve got some unprotected valuables there.”

“Hey, might as well send the least capable person to the least likely spot, right?” Clint said.

Natasha took off like a shot in the direction of the stairs without waiting to see what the outcome of Clint and Tony’s spat would be. Steve, Tony, and Clint all followed. The former two stopped at the door to the stairs through which she had disappeared.

“Remind me why you’re on the payroll again, Barton?” Tony asked.

“Someone’s got to be the pretty one.”

Clint sped off for the lift again. The records room was quite a bit further down than either Steve or Tony’s destination, and the stairwell would be too crowded for Clint to maneuver if they ran into trouble there. Bruce must have already made it all the way down to the first floor, because the elevator arrived quickly and with no one inside.

This second trip took longer than Clint would have liked. He returned his trick arrow to his quiver and replaced it with a real one. As confident as Tony seemed in JARVIS’s ability to throw off a hacker, Clint himself didn’t feel so sure. If someone had gotten into the tower that night, they’d already managed to fool a supposedly foolproof AI once. The last thing he needed would be to find himself with his pants down and an actual supervillain ready to jump him the moment the lift doors opened.

But the floor that housed all the Avengers’ records—paper and electronic files both—seemed empty when he stepped out into it. He saw and heard nothing out of the ordinary, yet something prevented him from turning right back around and joining Natasha at the bar. Clint held his breath, listening hard for any unusual noises. The thought of asking JARVIS to check if he still registered an unknown human nearby occurred to Clint before he realized that would let any intruder know someone was on to them.

Down the hall he crept, silent as could be. His breath burned in his lungs. Just a few feet more. The door to the records room hung open. He could see the first few inches of tile floor. The moment he reached the opening, Clint pressed his back against the wall and pulled his bow string taught. Then he carefully inched his head closer and closer to the doorframe until he could peer around it.

At once he could tell just how wrong Tony had been, not just about JARVIS, but about everything else that night, too. There in the records room, surrounded by open boxes and neatly stacked manila folders, crouched a woman with [color] hair—and the moment Clint spotted her was the same moment she spotted him as well.

Summary: Maybe this is your fault. All you had to do was flip a coin.

Rating/Warnings:All (Dumb!Thor; Avengers Friendship; Avengers & reader friendship)

Challenge: “100 Drabbles of Randomness” by Miseria1 on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Last Chance

It had taken hours (although it felt more like days), constant reiteration of the rules, and so many practice rounds it would make a normal person’s head spin. But after all this time and effort, you knew Thor could do it.

“Ready?” you asked as you held out your fist.

Though he didn’t look as confident as usual, he reached out his own. “Ready.“

"Rock-Paper-Scissors-Lizard-Spock,” you chanted. At the end, you triumphantly thrust out a lizard.

Thor, however, continued to leave his fist in the air as he stared at your hand.

“Uh. Thor? You gonna stick with that rock there?”

“That depends,” he said slowly. “What does rock do?”

The rest of the group around you groaned. Even Natasha fell back onto the couch with her head in her hands.

“Really?” Bruce mumbled. “Really?”

“I am sorry,” Thor said, and had the grace to look sheepish. “I do not understand this strange Midgardian custom of choosing things.”

Steve heaved a sigh.

“Okay, you know what?” Tony got to his feet. “We’re done. You and Blondie here should have settled this hours ago. We’re just going to watch–”

“No one wants to watch another documentary about you, Stark,” Steve said into his hands.

The rest of the group made noises of agreement. Tony, apparently thinking that this was somehow your fault, glowered at you and gestured at Thor.

“By all means, spend the rest of our lives trying to teach an immortal dog new tricks.”

You glowered at him in response. Thor had to wave his free hand in front of your eye to bring your focus back to him.

“[Name]?”

This time, it was you that sighed. “Scissor cuts paper; paper covers rock; rock crushes lizard; lizard poisons Spock; Spock smashes scissors; scissors decapitate lizard; lizard eats paper; paper disproves Spock; Spock vaporizes rock, and rock crushes scissors.” You made a cutting motion with two fingers in the air. “Got it?”

He beamed. “I understand completely. Thank you, [Name].”

“No problem.” You sat up straight once more. “Let’s just get this over with before I have to listen to another eight hours about the Stark Expo. Ready?”

“Hey, I’m just saying,” Tony called. “This is your last chance. You guys don’t decide this round, we’re doing whatI want to do. My tower, my rules.”

“Ready?” you asked again without even showing any sign that you had heard him. Thor nodded.

“I am prepared!”

“Rock-Paper-Scissors-Lizard-Spock!”

You held up Spock. Thor continued to hold up rock. The only difference this round was that he looked delighted.

“I win!” he cried joyously.

“What?” You looked from your hand to his. “No, you don’t. Spock vaporizes rock.”

"But Spock is an alien not of Asgard.“

You nodded.

"And a rock is of Midgard.”

"Um…so?“

"The only things that can defeat those of Midgard are those of Asgard! Thus, the victory is mine.”

You stared. And stared. And stared some more. Finally, without taking his eyes off the still-blank television screen, Bruce spoke up:

“He still doesn’t get it.”

Looks like you’d all get to spend your night learning about Stark Industries again after all.

Summary: Of all the ways he’s changed, losing his love for you was the last thing you expected.

Rating/Warnings:All (Post-Avengers (2012))

Challenge: “100 Drabbles of Randomness” by Miseria1 on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

Don’t Deny It

Loki had always been a bit different–a bit more magic than muscle, a bit more tricky than truthful, a bit more bitter than sweet. But for all your years in his company, you never imagined you’d have to see his face through the wall of a prison cell.

“So they decided to send you to break me. I should have known,” Loki breathed, his grin as fragile as glass.

You weren’t sure how long he had known you were there. Perhaps the entire time, as silent as you had been trying to remain. As his green eyes caught the little light that filtered into his cell, you stepped forward.

“Break you?” you asked. “Why would they ask me to break you?”

“Oh, I think you know.”

You shook your head, your fingers fluttering out to brush against the surface of his cell wall. “What happened to you?”

“What happened to me? What happened to me? What happened to you?”

“Getting Thor exiled,” you said without answering him. “Trying to kill him and our friends. Destroying the Frost Giants. Murdering hundreds of innocent Midgardians.” You lifted your gaze to meet his. “You’ve changed.”

That got his ire. Loki strode forward. “I have not changed!” His shout was so loud that you stumbled backward. Though he couldn’t get himself any closer to you, Loki clenched his hands into fists and grimaced down at you. “I have simply learned what I truly am!”

“A Frost Giant?” you said calmly, getting to your feet and gathering your skirts around you along with your wits. “Thor told me. Loki, you cannot believe–”

“They told you!“ He barked out a wild laugh. “Of course they did! You’re Thor’s little lapdog now, aren’t you?”

“Loki, you are speaking madness. I would never–”

“Don’t deny it! You helped them. You helped them all. And you would send me back to exile as soon as you could to be rid of me. Just like my damned family!”

“What are you saying? Thor loves you! He–He adores you. And Odin–”

“All of it was lies, wasn’t it, [Name]?” His voice dropped to regular volume and his smile returned to something close to normal as he stepped backward and away from you. “The truth comes out. Everything we shared, it was all a lie so you could watch me, spy on me for my family.”

“What?” Hurt colored your tone.“ No. Loki–Loki, I–”

“Don’t say it.” He held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear that you love me. Not anymore. You lied to me, just like everyone else.”

You pressed a hand to your heart and moved forward again. “Loki–”

He whirled around. “Get out of my sight! I never want to see you again!”

A shaky breath escaped your lips, but:

“If that is what you wish, your Highness.”

All he did was watch you as you bowed and left the room.

Summary: How these guys saved the world when they can’t handle the simplest of tasks is beyond you.

Rating/Warnings:T (reference to alcohol/a drinking contest; not Agents of SHIELD compliant; not MCU compliant; set post-Avengers (2012))

Challenge: “100 Drabbles of Randomness” by Miseria1 on Lunaescence Archives.

Tag List: @imaginesfire

I Don’t Want to Know

Today was just not your day, not your day at all. Despite your having been there for nearly three hours, Avengers Tower was a complete mess.

The banner you had so painstakingly painted the night before? Ripped slightly and hanging from only one part of the ceiling; the other part of the ceiling had nothing but a huge dent from Thor’s hammer. Apparently Thor hadn’t stopped there with his decorating, either.

Natasha and Tony? Nowhere to be seen. But there was a large amount of alcohol missing, and they’d been talking about a drinking contest for weeks. You’d seen them briefly earlier, Tony practically asleep and Natasha complaining of a headache.

The cake? Currently nothing but a smeared blast across the remains of one wall. The rest of the kitchen area had all the other telltale signs of a Hulk attack.

Clint? Still unconscious. One of his explosive arrows could be found near where Bruce had been carefully icing said cake that morning. The rest of his arrows were littered across the cabinets, walls, ceiling, and counters.

And poor Steve? He was still trying to understand the situation.

All you had wanted was a surprise party set up. That wasn’t such a big request, was it? They all liked Phil. You’d thought they would want to help celebrate his getting out of the hospital. Instead, all that was left was wreckage and some unsalvageable dessert.

The aggravation wasn’t even worth it. When Phil arrived when your note had directed him to, all he did was take one look around at the carnage and shake his head.

You opened your mouth to explain, but Phil held up a hand.

“I don’t even want to know,” he said.

Summary: For nine years, you raised the little sister your parents would never see grow. For nine years, you put blood and sweat and tears—sometimes your own, sometimes that of others—into your gruesome work. For nine years, you promised your little family a better life. Then, on the eve of happily ever after, all that is snatched away in the name of revenge. There’s only one group of people capable of rescuing your sister from those who murdered your parents. The thing is, they might not be so willing to help once they discover who (or what) you are…or maybe, just maybe, they might love you in spite of it.

Ratings/Warnings: T (sexual references, mild foul language, canon divergence Post-Avengers (2012), violence, slow burn, France depicted by a non-French writer, no Laura Barton)

Pairings:Clint Barton/Female!Reader; Natasha Romanoff/Bruce Banner; Tony Stark/Pepper Potts

Posting Status: In-Progress

Notes:Now that I am feeling better, I want to write again (especially since I didn’t get any requests). Honestly, though? My old stories are…old. I’m not abandoning them. It’s just that I really wanted to write something new that reflects where I am as a writer now. This plot bunny has been gnawing at my brain since I wrote the “Factory” one shot for my “One Small Step” collection. Clint Barton isn’t the most popular Avenger, I realize, but I hope someone out there will enjoy this story. I thought about swapping Clint out for Steve or Bucky. That’s just not the story I wanted to tell.

One more Important note: I’m not French. I’ve never been to France. The only person I know who speaks French is my friend from Canada. I’ve done a lot of research for this, but that doesn’t mean I’ve got it all right. Please shoot me a note if you find any discrepancies that need addressed! I will be happy to correct them.

Chapter 1: A Beautiful Job

Chapter 2: Thanks for the Warning

Marvel Preferences -When You’re Sick

Guess who finally got Covid?! Yeah, it’s me. I wanted to write something to make me feel a bit better. For this I only included some of my favorites but I can add more to future preferences :)

Bucky - When you’re sick, Bucky would give you your space unless you specifically ask otherwise. He would make you meals, keep your room tidy, bring you anything you need, and then clear out for a while to let you rest. He would always be just a holler away though in case you needed him. He would also take over your responsibilities that you are unable to take care of while you are sick so you don’t stress out or fall behind. He wouldn’t tell you that he’d done it though. He would just quietly take care of things and leave you to heal. 

Loki - When you’re sick, Loki would make sure that you had the absolute best care that was available. He would find the best healers in Asgard and bring them to you, waiting impatiently by your door until they were done helping you so that he could be by your side. He would cuddle up in bed next to you with not a single worry about getting sick. Anything you ask for he would provide in excess, giving you the best of whatever you need so that you’re healed quickly. 

Tony - When you’re sick, Tony would make sure that you had everything that you needed to heal before heading off to work. He would get up early to make sure he has a little bit of time with you before he has to leave. He wouldn’t leave until he knows that you’re okay. Once he’s gone he calls to check on you throughout the day. If he doesn’t hear from you for too long he sends someone to the house with water and medicine to make sure you’re still alive and doing well.

Steve - When you’re sick, Steve would be a little bit old fashioned in taking care of you. He would force you to stay in bed, make you chicken noodle soup, keep you comfortable, read to you and draw you pictures to entertain you, anything that you could possibly need. He’d ask for a list of anything you need and you’d give it to him so he could make a shopping trip for you. He would stay close by and be only too happy to help you whenever you need him. 

Frank -  When you’re sick, Frank would be really chill and loving. He would call out of work so he can spend the day with you. Even when you’re sick he isn’t afraid to tease you and you dish it right back. He would make you get out of bed to move around the house so you can get some circulation even when you complain. He uses a firm but gentle hand to make sure you’re being taken care of properly. He’d also order your favorite takeout while you watch dumb movies and he’d play the guitar for you while you fall asleep next to him. 

Billy - When you’re sick, Billy would be very matter of fact about helping you. He would give you medicine, check your temperature, and then he would disappear. You have no idea where he’s gone until he appears later on to check on you again. Towards the end of the day, you tell him that you want him to stay for a bit. While he doesn’t necessarily see why, he gets into bed with you and simply holds you for some time while you enjoy his company. 

Stephen - When you’re sick, Stephen would not necessarily be the most attentive boyfriend but he would know exactly what to do to make you feel better. As much as he wants to help you and make you well, he wouldn’t want to risk getting himself sick either. He would give you the proper medicines, lots of fluid, and a little kiss on the forehead before heading off to work and letting you rest. 

Vision - When you’re sick, Vision would know just what to do to make you better. Much like Stephen, he would know all of the proper ways to care for you but he would also not be worried about getting sick so he’d stay by your side and help to keep your mind off the discomfort. He’d lay in bed and watch your favorite movies with you and cook your favorite foods to comfort you. Plus he’d give lots of little kisses.

Druig- When you’re sick, Druig would be so gentle with you. Normally he’s not afraid to mess with you but once you’re sick he is terrified of doing something to hurt you. You reassure him that you’re okay and help show him what to do. He does anything that you ask of him before curling up in your arms, stroking your hair and telling you how much he loves you. When you cough or sneeze he’d be a bit freaked but you’d calmly stroke his arm and cuddle closer to him.

Dane- When you’re sick, Dane would be the sweetest ever. He’s not the best with the actual sick part but you tell him the things you need and he is very diligent about helping once you do. After you’ve got everything you need he would do anything to cheer you up. He would be cracking jokes and making you laugh all day, just being a general goofball just to see you smile again. He would also cook you a really nice meal that you’ve both been wanting to try for a while. 

Tags: @buckyhoney@paintballkid711@the-mechanical-angel@readsalot73@roxypeanut@sheerfreesia007@ahopelessromanticwritersworld @balenciagabucky@fireinmoonshot@thewritingdoll@greenorangevioletgrass@star-spangled-man @klinenovakwinchester@unearthlydust@crispyimagines17@clints-lucky-arrow​@waspswidows​

Answers

Steven Grant x Reader

Words:330

A/N:No summary for this, the tailer inspired me, so here’s a little something. I cannot wait for it! Hope you enjoy this one~

Your husband always had difficulties sleeping.

From terrible nightmares to sleepwalking, he was always restless. The dark circles under his eyes were a proof of that.

You tried your best to help him, took him to doctors, gave him medication, but nothing ever seemed to help.

Then it got worse.

It got to the point where he had to chain himself to the bed, surround the bed with sand so he can be assured he wouldn’t leave during the night.

He started to have hallucinations, causing him to freak out in the middle of the day when an elderly lady just wanted to enter the lift.

You were genuinely worried for Steven, but you didn’t know what to do.

One evening, he woke up, screaming. He started to run but the chain stopped him, causing him to harshly hit the ground as you woke from your dreams. Seeing him on the ground with that awful thing around his ankles make your heart ache. You felt like you were failing as a wife.

If you can’t comfort your own husband, who would?

With tears in your eyes you made your way to him on the ground as he slowly started to get up to sit on the floor.

“We will find answers.” you told him as you hugged him close to your chest, surrounding him with your warmth. “There has to be someone who could help.”

You truly believed you would be able to find a solution for him. Even if you never knew where to look.

But for now, holding him on the ground, occasionally kissing him on the head was enough.

He calmed down, letting himself get fully surrounded by you. He knew if he was thinking about you and nothing else, he would be able to get over this.

Taglist:imreadinggoaway@fleursirvart​ @v-2buckyehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow​ablogbypeteparkerliamssmilersmexylemony@greenarrowhead​feelingsareharddd @thisismysecrethappyplace@sincerelyfan@theoneanna@aestheticsandmarvel@rororo06@castellandiangelo@avengers-r-us@destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpstercelebsimagine @capsiclesdollsnoopy3000@firstangeldragonranch@puknowcrazzyter @alwayshave-faith@soleil-dor@alex12948scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl​​​

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Dating bucky barnes would include

• Many pet names but the most used one would be “doll” or “darling”
• He feels worried he may hurt you with his metal arm so you need to reassure him that he won’t hurt you
• Will still try to keep his metal arm away from you at first til he feels comfortable
• Once he feels comfortable that he won’t hurt you he will not try to keep it away from you as much
• You would probably be friends before dating because it may take him a while to get close/trust people
• Playing with his hair
• He would often surprise you with flowers
• Loves your smile and always does small things to make you smile
• You loving to see his smile
• Loves kissing you and will kiss you anywhere
• Tries to make you blush
• Falling asleep on him
• He’d tell you stories from the 40’s
• Teaches you how to dance like they did in the 40’s
• Trying to teach him more current dances
• Getting close to Sam and Steve
• Watching how he interacts with Sam’s nephews and it reminds you of one of the many reasons you love him
• Showing him shows/movies he has never had a chance to see
• He also likes to show you older movies that he liked to watch
• Adopting at least one cat
• Would feel very protective over you
• Reassuring him that he is not his past
• Waking up to comfort him after nightmares

Cat of Mischief - 3

A/N: The story is going really slow at the moment I know. But don‘t worry, it‘ll get more interesting next chapter!

Summary: Loki slowly starts to get used to this new life

Chapter Overview|MASTERLIST

Chapter 3

Hastily, Loki put the book back onto the table and shape-shifted into his cat form. Still on the armchair he curled himself up until he really looked like one giant mass of fur and closed his eyes. He didn’t know exactly why but pretending to be asleep seemed like the best plan right now. He opened one eye to take a peek at you and how you already looked around searching for him. You put the bag with cat food into the kitchen and spun around, seeing if he was there. Loki noticed how you started to panic a bit but when he saw that your eyes moved into his direction, he quickly closed his eyes again.

He heard you sigh in relief and judging from the sounds that came after that, you started to unpack the things you had bought. Curiously he stood up, stretched (to make the fake sleep more believable) and jumped off from the way too comfortable leather chair. You smiled at the cats curiosity and pulled a dark green food bowl out of your bag and placed it before him. Loki just looked at you and then at the plastic bowl in front of him. He didn’t untderstand. Now you opened one of the cat food packages and knelt beside him as you poured the food into the bowl. Quickly you discarded the now empty package and continued unpacking.

Loki didn’t look all too pleased. Was he really supposed to eat that?Helplessly he looked up at you. “God, your eyes are scaring me.” You stated nervously smiling. Loki tilted his head since that seemed to work when he wanted to express confusion. You stuttered as you looked at him react to what you said. “Either you’re the most intelligent cat on this planet or I am going mental.” You said and closed the fridge which was now semi filled again. Loki kept looking at you when you put the bag asside and hung it over one of the chairs in the kitchen. “Have you never eaten cat food before or what is up with you?” He kept staring at you. You now seriously got a little scared. “Alright, Imma be honest, you‘re creeping me out right now.” But he kept staring. And it wasn‘t like he was staring at you like a stubborn cat it was more like..another person was staring at you. When he still didn’t stop looking at you, you put your elbows onto the counter, groaned and held your head in your hands. “Am I really this lonely?” There it was again. Loki felt sick and guilty. He still couldn’t quite make out why you made him feel such emotions but he took his eyes off of you and sniffed at the food before him.

His body was refusing to eat this..stuff but his mind was telling him to just do it. After all, what did he expect? He transformed into a cat and of course he got catfood and not some grapes or nuts. And in this moment he decided that maybe this was the best thing that could have happened to him. The Avengers would never find him here and this actually wasn’t as bad as a cell. At least he knew you had a good taste in literature. Speaking of taste, the food infront of him was mediocre at best.

But despite his tongue clearly not liking the texture of it, he ate all of it in a span of a few seconds. You stared at him with wide eyes. “What the heck..?” You mumbled and started to make yourself something to eat. It was just some cheap Ramen but it still tasted better than you‘d think. So you started boiling water and ripped open the little ingredient packs.

Loki couldn’t see what you were doing on the counter so he jumped onto the kitchen table to get a better view. You turned around at the slight thudnoise he made and looked helplessly into his blue eyes. “You know, everybody says that you shouldn’t give your cat too many allowances.” As you said that you mentally slapped yourself. Were you really asking a cat if it would kindly jump off of your kitchen table? And to your surprise, Loki jumped down onto the floor again and made his way back to the leather armchair that he had previously ‘slept’ in.

As so many times today, you stared at him awkwardly. What was up with this cat? When you heard the click of the water boiler you turned around and poured the water into the cup with the noodles and put a small plate ontop of it. Since you had to wait a little bit for your food to be ready, you walked towards the cozy little corner in your apartment and sat down in the purple armchair, leaning back with a sigh. “Alright, this is gonna be a really weird thing to ask but-” you paused for a moment. “Can you understand me?” You asked, looking at the floor. For some reason this was really embarrassing for you.

Loki found himself quite lost. What was he supposed to do now? Meow? Nod? Pretend to sleep and not being able to understand you? He was aware that normal pets weren’t able to understand a person without being trained to react to certain words or actions but he could not hide it forever, right? At some point you would for sure notice it anyway.

Determined, Loki jumped onto the little round wooden table between you and him and looked up at you. Slightly nodding.

Now you were truly shocked. “I-” what were you even going to say? Shaking your head with a small smile you made your way back into the kitchen to grab your now ready-to-eat Ramen and sat down at the kitchen table, Loki following close behind you. You grabbed your phone out of the pocket in your pants and set it up before you on the table. “Let‘s see what‘s in the news.” You muttered to yourself and clicked at the most recent video.

“The God of Mischief, Loki Laufeyson, who had attacked the city of New York early this evening is still not to be found…” You visibly cramped up in your seat, fingers tightly holding the eating sticks. When Loki heard his name he quickly jumped onto the chair next to you to look at the news himself. Your nervousness didn’t go unnoticed by him. Now there was Tony Stark on the screen, still in his Iron Man Suit and surrounded by journalists that all asked him the same questions. 'Where is he?’ , 'What is going to happen now?’ , 'Are we safe?’. Normally you‘d be annoyed at the journalists and you would have understood it if Stark had just waved his hand at them and didn’t answer any of the questions but now, when it‘s actually important you were really pissed off by him and the other Avengers or whatever they called themselves.

“I really, really hope they catch him. Not gonna lie, I‘m scared that he‘ll attack again.” You laughed nervously at your last statement. Loki didn’t know what came over him but it was as if he was on autopilot. He stretched forward and snuggled against your side in an attempt to sooth your nerves a bit. And to his surprise it seemed to work. You looked down at him with a now soft smile and started petting him. You eyes wandered back to your phone, still petting him. Loki lay down on the chair and suddenly a wave of tiredness came over him. The last thing he remembered from this day was your soft and warm hand petting his head and him slowly drifting away, closing his eyes.

He still didn’t know where this was supposed to go but it certainly was something that he could get used to.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags:

@profoundtyrantharmony

Cat of Mischief - 2

Summary:You take Loki back to your apartment and he is more confused than ever until he finds something very special

Chapter Overview|MASTERLIST

Chapter 2

It was terrible. Probably the most horrifying thing you‘d ever seen.

Bringing the cat to the vet was one thing but getting him checked was a whole different story. Scratching, biting, hissing..and the only thing that happened was putting him on the treatment table. When the vet came in she was met with more hissing, more scratching and more biting while she tried to touch the angry black ball of fur. You felt terribly sorry for her and gave her an apologetic smile.

When she was finished (after Loki finally stopped struggling) she wiped some sweat from her forehead and looked like she‘d go to her boss after this and ask for a week off (at least). “It‘s a he first of all.” She took of her gloves while talking. “He isn‘t chipped, which is weird since he doesn’t look like a stray cat at all.” “Is he neutered?” You quietly asked as if this question could upset the already distressed cat. And it seems like you were right. His head spun around to look at you, hissing angrily. “No he isn’t. This would lead to my next question: Would you like to take him home? Because if yes we can chip and castrate him.” “Uhm…” you glanced at Loki. He looked terrified. “I think we should wait with that.” The vet looked more than relieved to hear you say that.

-

“You‘re a fighter aren‘t you?” You said chuckling to yourself as you walked out of the building. Loki let out a small growl. “My apartment isn’t too far away don‘t worry.” Carefully and very slowly you put your hand on his head to not scare him. He quickly hissed at you but started purring after a few seconds. “What is this magic!?” Loki exclaimed loud and confused which came out as another adorable little meow that made your heart melt.

You kept petting him lightly while you made your way through the now even busier streets of New York. The sun was going down and it seemed that everybody in this city just wanted to get home and get to bed. If it was even possible to fall asleep after today. Luckily, you were out with some friends when the attack had happened but because of that the shock was even bigger when you came back. Even now it was surreal to you. Everywhere there were ruins of the once so proud-looking city and you could feel the shock and sadness of all citizens.

“Horrible isn’t it?” you muttered with a heavy voice. “I mean, aside from the fact that things like gods and-” you paused a moment “-Aliens? exist, it is just terrifying that the first thing they do is attack us.” Loki looked up at you. He felt a little sick all of a sudden. “I mean, what did we do? That god of mischief just comes here and tries to rule over us for what reason? He is a god after all, doesn’t he have people worshipping him already?” But quickly you corrected yourself. “But then again heisthe god of mischief and from all I know about nordic mythology, he isn’t that loved among the people.” You sighed heavily. Not even knowing what you should be mad about. The best way to describe your state at the moment was probably just tired. You were already tired and socially exhausted when you drove back to your apartment after hanging out with your friends and well, what awaited you wasn’t the most pleasant thing to put it nicely.

“Alright here we are!” You said and fumbled with your keys, still holding Loki in your arms. When you finally managed to open your door and stepped into your small apartment, a pleasant wave of warmth came over you and you sighed contently. Carefully, you kneeled down and put Loki down onto the floor before closing the door behind you. Putting your hands on your hips you let you eyes scan the apartment, Loki did the same. “Ta-da” you said quietly and with a small smile on your lips when he turned his head to look at you. Loki was helpless. He was feeling…guilty? Why was he feeling guilty? He knew that this feeling came over him when you started talking about what happened today but why did you make him feel this way? You were just some other mortal. Not different from the others that he had seen today. He shook his head lightly and started exploring this - as he would call it - pathetic little living space of yours. You watched him with a hint of a proud grin on your face until you realized something. “Oh god I‘m such an idiot.” You mumbled which made Loki turn to you once again. Tilting his head in confusion. “I need to head out and buy you some food.” You opened the door behind you again. “Just don’t destroy anything, alright?” Giving him a soft smile, you stepped out and with a little clickyou were gone and he was alone.

Now he really was clueless. What had just happened? Why was he still a cat and why was he now some mortals- he didn’t even wanted to think about it- pet?

Once he was sure that you were gone, he transformed back into his æsir form, after what felt like ages, and stretched. Wanting to continue his exploration he took a step and stumbled forward. Cursing to himself after almost tripping over his own feet. Alright, this might take a few minutes he thought to himself and carefully took another step into what seemed like your kitchen. Feeling his stomach grumble, he took a look inside the fridge and he was verydisappointed and quite shocked. It was practically empty and he started to wonder how you even survived with this little amount of supplies. Still suspicious of your living situation, he closed the fridge and suddenly it hit him.

“Why am I still here?” He asked himself and looked out of the window. He could just go. Run away. The door was no match for his magic so why was he still in the apartment of some weak and pathetic midgardian and played pet with them? His expression turned into disgust at the thought of what had happened to him up until now. He made his way to the front door, determined to quit this game before it got worse until something caught his eye. Not far from the exit there was a small corner with two armchairs. The one close to the door had dark brown leather and the other one on the opposite side had an elegant shade of purple. In between those two (very comfortable looking) armchairs was a small round wooden table that had two books stacked on top of each other.

Loki looked at the door again and then his eyes returned to the little cozy looking corner. He sighed, walked past the door and took the book that was on top into his hand and turned it around, searching for a title. When he found it his eyes widened. It was Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet to be exact. Subconsciously he sat down onto the leather armchair and traced the lettering on the front with his index finger. No one but his mother knew it but he loved poetry and especially Shakespeare. One day, when Frigga noticed that Loki had almost read every book in their library she snuck out to Midgard and brought back a variety of poetry books for him and among all of them he took a special liking to Romeo and Juliet. At first it was hard for him to decipher the words but not long after, it became his favorite story. He didn’t know why exactly this work but he really, really adored it. Carefully he opened the book but suddenly the door next to him clicked

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Tags

@profoundtyrantharmony

Cat of Mischief - 1

A/N: Hey there! So this is my first fanfiction here on Tumblr and I just want to say a few things :) First of all, english isn‘t my first language and I am not really good with commas and when to set paragraphs. So I mostly do it when I think that it is right but please correct me in the comments if you find mistakes so I can correct them. And second of all, I have to get back into writing. Meaning that my chapters might not be the longest or best. I expect the chapters to get better with time so yeah, hope you enjoy this first chapter of my first fanfiction here on Tumblr!

Chapter Overview | MASTERLIST

Summary:Loki stumbles through the crowded city and is saved by you after he was a little careless

Chapter 1

One moment. It had taken Loki just one moment of carelessness from the so called avengers to escape their seemingly tight grasp on him. Although he couldn’t quite remember how he did it (even though it had been just a few minutes) he was now a free man. Well, sort of. His face was still everywhere to be seen and the news that he had escaped were coming in quicker than he had imagined. Loki needed a plan.

He couldn’t go back to Asgard and he couldn’t just stumble through the city of New York in hopes that he wouldn’t get arrested again. Well, he couldn’t stumble through the crowds of people as himself but in form of someone or something else, he wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. So he took the most logical step, shapeshifting into a cat. They were slender, cautious, quiet, and equally elegant creatures, traits that he thought he had in common with these wayward fur balls.

Slowly trotting out of the dark alley in which he used his magic, he made his way out into the busy streets of New York. It seems like the damage he had done wasn’t as great as he at first thought. Cursing to himself he looked around. It was different. While he was actually a tall god, he now was just a cat. A small and confused black cat.

Still trying to accustom to everything he didn’t notice an old man coming towards him. And suddenly Lokis weight shifted from one side to the other and he lost his balance. That old man had tripped over him. Loki, confused and scared, rushed to the end of the sidewalk and accidentally stumbled onto the street. He didn’t know why but now he was panicking. So he run. But where was he going to run? He didn’t have anywhere to go and now it became clear to him. What even was his plan? They wouldn’t let him get back to Asgard without arresting him and he couldn’t live a life on Midgard without the Avengers arresting him. So what was he even doing?

“WAIT!”

Suddenly, the ground became more distant and his legs would not allow him to move any further. He was picked up. Even more confused now, he looked around just to see a car centimeters away from him and, he turned his head around, you. The mortal that had dared to picked him up.

“Consider looking before you drive full speed you idiot!” You mumbled and walked off the street, Loki still in your arms.

He looked over his shoulder and the car was already gone. “What a prick.” You simply said, also looking back to where you had picked Loki up. Now that everything calmed down, Loki suddenly realized where he was. In the arms of some random Midgardian.

“Let me down you foul and under developed human! I am Loki, prince of Asgard, God of Mischief and I will NOT tolerate this-”

“My god, you‘re talkative.” You chuckled to yourself while looking down at the small cat in your arms who didn’t seem to enjoy all this as much as you did in this moment. Again, Loki was confused. How can you interrupt a literal god that-

Oh.

Right.

He was a cat.

While he wasn’t able to hear it, you were. Everything he said came out as (very adorable) little meows and he was certain that that wasn’t intimidating at all.

Brows furrowed, you looked around and your eyes soon layed themselves back onto the black fur ball in your arms.

“Now who might you belong to?”

You muttered to yourself and put him down, still holding him firmly in place with both your hands. You began searching for any kind of indication to where he might belong. He certainly wasn’t a stray judging by how well groomed he looked.

Loki didn’t enjoy this at all. Being touched by some low life mortal was already embarrassing but thinking that he belonged to someone else but himself? He couldn’t believe the audacity that this..creature had. Touching a god like that. Kneel before him is what they should do! (Even though you kind of were kneeling on the ground to check him)

“Just wait until I break out of this pathetic form and-” He let out a low purr. Surprised by that sound he stumbled back and looked at you with shock in his eyes. You started laughing at his reaction.

“Never been pet under the chin before?” You said and stretched your hand out for him again. Loki just stood there. What was happening to him?

You tilted your head slightly. “You‘re a weird cat.” You stated and pulled your hand back. “But I‘m sure your owner misses you so let‘s get you to the vet.” With one swift motion he was picked up again.

Vet?

A vet for animals?

Loki didn’t know how to react. Should he bite you and run away? Should he just go along with it? But before he could clear his mind you had already started walking down the street.

Cat of Mischief - Masterlist

Got the idea for this fanfiction from @the-emo-asgardian

A/N: I‘m still not sure on how many chapters this fanfiction will have so don’t be surprised if things change up here!

Summary: Loki transforms into a cat and escapes the avengers. When he almost gets involved in an accident, you save him and take him home with you. Little did both of you know just how much of a mess this domestic life would evolve into.

Chapter Overview

Chapter 1

Loki stumbles through the crowded city and is saved by you after he was a little careless

Chapter 2

You take Loki back to your apartment and he is more confused than ever until he finds something very special

Chapter 3

Loki slowly starts to get used to this new life

To be Continued

I‘m here - Oneshot

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki finds out that you are going through a depressive episode and tries to help

Warnings: depressive episodes (no memtioning but it‘s still described)

A/N: Guess who had a depressive episode a few days back and need some Loki to cheer them up? That‘s right, it is I the author of this oneshot.

MASTERLIST

You just couldn’t understand it. Last week everything had been fine and you had all the fun in the world but now? Now you were just laying on your bed. You haven’t even had the motivation to shower even though you usually loved it and knew that you could really need one at the moment. So you just lay there, completely still with your arm draped over your face to wipe away the occasional tears that escaped your sore eyes. You were torn between wanting to punch yourself and the urge to just scream into a pillow and as time went by it seemed that doing both wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

Just as you were about to get up, your phone started ringing. You grabbed it from your nightstand and saw that it was Bruce. Should you take it or just wait until it‘s over? Quickly you glanced at the time. It was almost afternoon. Had you really been laying here and doing nothing the entire time?

The ringing seemed to become louder any second. Bruce probably needed help with something. Or maybe it was an emergency? What if someone got hurt?

Now it became so loud that you had to cover your ears.

“Please just stop.” You whispered and watched your phone, just waiting for the ‘accept call’ button to disappear.

When it finally was over, you let yourself fall back onto the sheets again and rubbed your forehead with your hand. “Why is this happening now?”

One thing about your depressive episodes is that they seemed to have no trigger whatsoever. They just came and went whenever they pleased and it was seriously getting on your nerves. You had food, water, friends and family, a place to stay so why? Why were you still so sad?

While you were trying to sort your feelings and to sort put your thoughts, you didn’t recognize someone knocking on your door and then slowly coming in.

“What in the three Norns happened here?”

Only then did you shoot up from your curled up position on the bed and saw who was standing in front of of it.

“Loki I-” your voice was immediately clear of any desperation. Quickly you wiped your tears away, hoping your eyes weren’t too red.

Loki of course was confused by how happy you sounded even though your room and yourself were a complete mess. He carefully looked around. Clothes were lying on the floor, the curtains blocked the sunlight from brightening up your room and then there was you.

He‘d never seen anything like this and especially seeing you this way left him utterly irritated. Your hair was a mess, your clothes full of wrinkles and your face..oh your face. Seeing that usually so delighted and happy face of yours so full of sadness made his heart ache to the point where he thought it could kill him.

You had followed his gaze around the room and shame washed over you.

“That‘s embarrassing I‘m sorry. You shouldn’t see me like this.” Forcing a smile you looked slightly down, hoping he‘d just turn around and walk away. Perhaps he‘d call you pathetic but even that couldn’t make it much worse.

But he didn’t move, just stood there. You felt his gaze burning on your skin and again felt tears welling in your eyes.

“Listen I-” your voice broke. Inhaling a shaky breath you tried again. Your head still pointed downwards. “Listen I know that I look disgusting, my room looks disgusting and that I am really pathetic in your eyes right now so could you please just-” your voice broke again.

“leave me alone.” You weren’t sure if he had heard you since those last three words were nothing more than a quiet and desperate whimper.

But no, he didn’t leave. He couldn’t leave. He wanted to stay here with you.

Loki didn’t know what came over him or why his heart ached so much at the sight of you but before he or you knew it, Loki crawled on your bed so that he was directly in front of you. Slowly he moved his hand up to your burning cheek and held it while gently wiping your warm tears away with his thumb.

When you felt his skin on yours you quietly choked and looked up at him. Quickly he pulled away thinking he did something wrong but right before his hand left your cheek you grabbed his wrist and made him stay there. Your hand wandering fro his wrist to the back of his hand and gently held it in place while letting yourself melt into his touch. He was so soft and warm, unlike anything you’d ever expected or felt in the first place.

Loki watched you as you closed you eyes and nuzzled more into his hand. His heart was beating faster than ever at this point.

Your eyes opened just a little bit but enough for him to see that you were still looking down, his thumb still caressing your cheek.

“Can I..can I hug you?” Did he hear you right? You wanted to hug..him? Without thinking about it he nodded and slowly pulled you towards him. You shuffled a bit closer until your head was resting right under his chin which he gently placed on top of your head. Gently he stroked your back and allowed himself to close his eyes. He knew you could hear his heartbeat and he sincerely hoped it wasn’t annoying you in any way.

When your breathing had slowed down He leaned back a bit and carefully placed a kiss on your hairline.

“I‘m here for you, don‘t worry”

uhhhh random q

how’d uh you guys feel about a punisher (tv series) Billy Russo x f!reader fic

MASTERLIST

Rules/Regulations

Fandoms/Characters 

Other blog: @homosexuality-at-its-finest

Last updated: July 26th 2021

MARVEL

STEVE ROGERS:

I hate you, I love you (Male reader)

Summary: Y/n and Steve have never liked each other, but that changes after Y/n saves Steve on a mission. 

PETER PARKER:

Take care of you(Male reader) 

Summary: Peter gets a little banged up on a mission and Y/n makes it his job to take care of him. 

In the city (Male reader)

Summary: Peter and Y/n decide to play out a little fantasy on patrol.

BUCKY BARNES:

That mouth(Male reader)

Summary: Bucky and Y/n hate each other (Supposedly) a chance encounter may change those opinions though. 

TONY STARK:

Revelry (male reader)

Summary: Tony loves to tease Y/n, it’s always fun to get a rise out of him.

HARRY POTTER

HARRY POTTER:

Jealousy (Male reader)

Summary: Harry can be a bit possessive at times, but it leads to rather exciting situations. 

RON WEASLEY: 

Moving forward (Male reader)

Summary: As long as Y/n is by Ron’s side, the world isn’t such a scary place anymore. 

CEDRIC DIGGORY:

Champion(male reader)

Summary: Y/n and Cedric hook up at a party thinking it’s a one time thing, but will feelings get involved?

RESIDENT EVIL

ETHAN WINTERS:

Meant to be yours (Male reader)

Summary: Ethan can never go back to his old life, good thing he has Y/n now.

Prompt: The reader has been busy and stressed and decides to blow off steam an extra hour after the week comes to a close. Reader over does it but doesn’t take care of herself, leaving Bucky worried.

One shot

Paring: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: Indication of body issues and eating problems

              I open the fridge looking for anything that seems appealing. The cloud of fog thickens in my head and my eyelids are heavy. I’m starting to realize my extra time at the gym this morning may have been a mistake. The second mistake is living with a bunch of guys who never have food in the refrigerator.

              I grab the contents to make a sandwich and make my way over to the counter. Scratch that, I’m making myself two. I’m not sure what I am putting on the sandwich, as long as it ends up in my stomach who cares.

“Hey doll,” Bucky walks over and kisses my temple from behind.

              We’ve been dating for a few months but Steve introduced us years ago. He has been very slow to warm up, but hopefully he knows I’m not going anywhere. When we first met it was almost comical. He barely said a word and hardly looked into my direction. He later admitted that he was afraid of scaring me or hurting me somehow. So he kept his distance, up until we all came back from the blip and Steve left us.

“Sweetheart, you look a little pale.” He comes to the other side of the counter and gets a better look at my face. “Are you feeling okay?”

              I feel my energy depleting by the second, but I respond with a nod. If I look this worn out, I couldn’t image how I would sound. I just need to get some food in me and I hope that is enough. Maybe a nap, a nap sounds amazing right now too.

              Bucky’s gaze lingers on me for a moment more before leaving my peripheral vision. I hear cabinets open and Bucky wrestling around with crinkling bags. Next, he moves onto the refrigerator. He grabs some of the things I am no longer using and returns them to their spot, and I hear him grab something else as well.

              Bucky appears besides me once more and arranges a plate of food. He places a little pile of grapes, along with a thick slice of watermelon. Two hands grab at the sandwiches before me and places them on the plate of fruit.

              Before I can even look up at him in protest, Bucky lightly takes his hand in mine and leads me to the couch in the next room. His head nods for me to sit down and I oblige. Bucky places the plate of food on my lap and takes a seat next to me. I knit my eyebrows in confusion but his face gives nothing away. His beautiful eyes flicker to my food and back to my face.

“Okay fine.” I say with a smirk before popping a grape in my mouth. He seems pleased as his posture becomes more relaxed. His fingers twirl some hair hanging from my ponytail and I can feel him silently urging me to eat some more.

“Buck I’m okay.” I plead, but truth is I’m too tired to really convince him.

              A few months ago, I had more time to workout and I did. I spent as much time as I did today in the gym 5 days a week. Most of the day following I was pretty tired. I remember going through two or three cups of coffee a day to make it to bedtime. And suddenly it clicks.

“You don’t look okay,” Bucky whispers.

              His eyes flicker to mine and I see some of the worry he keeps hidden. I take a bite out of a sandwich. The surge of energy waves through my body almost instantly. I know it isn’t taking effect yet, but if I feel this great already then it is a start. I figured out recently I wasn’t eating enough back then. I felt like I was sleepwalking through the day. I never told anyone because I didn’t want them to worry, I scaled back on my workouts, and made sure I was eating enough for what I was doing. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who noticed I wasn’t eating enough.

              I finish eating my plate a lot faster than I anticipated. The dried sweat clings to my skin and clothes to my back. Quickly I excuse myself and run to a shower.

              The warmth of the water feels good against my skin. In true girl fashion I grab my shampoo bottle and begin singing along with the tune playing off my phone. The shower is my stage and the sound of the water mimic my cheering fans in the audience. Sam has complained a lot about me using all the hot water. I told him that the show must go on.

              Only this time the show may need to be cut short. The music seems to be coming from a distance and my eyes are beginning to feel really heavy. I lean my body against the cold shower wall and find a little comfort in it. The peace only lasts a moment as my body heat replaces it.

              On instinct I get out of the shower and grab a towel. I take a seat on the floor and place my head in between my knees the best I can. Taking deep breaths, I find the world come back into view, enough to get myself from the floor and into my bedroom.

              I grab the closest things resembling clothes that I can find as the world begins to shift again. Struggling to put them on, I stay on the ground as I decide it is good enough. Closing my eyes, I tell myself I will only stay here for a few minutes and then I’ll go get coffee.

              I allow my body to lay a few minutes more after I start to feel better. Letting it soak up as much strength as it can to get me into the kitchen, and hopefully without running into anyone in particular. Except I am not that lucky.

              Bucky rounds the corner of my door frame and I nearly knock into him. It takes more strength than I’d like to spare to catch myself and stay balanced. Thankfully there is no spinning, just overwhelming exhaustion. But the next thing I know, my feet are no longer on the ground and two arms cradle me into a toned chest. They set me on my bed and find a nearby blanket to wrap around me.

              He doesn’t say anything before he leaves. Bucky doesn’t say a thing and leaves me alone in my bedroom with the door open. If it wasn’t for being so tired, and my bed being comfy, I would have followed him. I would have tried to convince him that I was okay and ask he joined me for another morning snack.

              Guilt begins to make its home in the pit of my stomach. Bucky cares so much about me and I can barely take care of myself. It’s selfish, I shouldn’t be worrying him. It is not like I am trying to do this. It was a mistake; one I’ve made before but hasn’t taken this much of a toll on me before. The best way I could describe it is feeling like a stale cookie that has not slept in a week. Well, I guess if cookies slept that would make more sense.

              I hear his footsteps down the hall from my door. Maybe he’ll yell at me. That would be better than the silent treatment. At least I would know exactly how he is feeling instead of having to guess.

              Bucky enters the room with a tray of food and an unreadable expression upon his features. Great, this will be fun. He carefully places the tray next to me and takes a seat near my feet. I sit up a bit and see that the tray is filled with all of my favorites. Not really caring which one I want first, I grab a random item and start to devour it.

“The last time you looked this pale was months ago.” Bucky breaks me out of my thoughts. I can see him trying to decide if he wants to continue. “I’m worried about you. You started acting like you again once you stopped working out so much. Your eating never changed but you had more energy.”

“Bucky I am eating, see.” I take another bite of the sandwich. Please, I just need him to see that I am okay.

“It isn’t enough.” Bucky sighs and soothingly rubs my feet through the blanket. “If you keep doing this, you’ll have to eat all the time until maybe the afternoon, maybe. I know you and you won’t do that. It will slow you down.”

              We sit in silence as I continue to eat. Bucky moves his hands to my calves next and I can feel more of my muscles loosen. His eyes seem far away in thought, not like earlier when he watched me eat. I wonder what he is thinking. I understand that not eating enough is dangerous, but I can’t help but feel like I am eating too much when I do. It has been a constant struggle since I was a teenager, and for the most part I felt like I was doing an okay job up until recently.

              I try to imagine what it would be like if the roles were reversed. If I was the one having to beg him to eat enough, or to stop working out quite as much. I paint the picture of us sitting on his bed while I massaged out his muscles while I make him eat a plethora of foods. Seeing him on the ground because he is too exhausted to even crawl to his bed or for help.

“I’m sorry,” my voice comes out course and small. I can sense tears not too far behind.

“I know, doll.” Bucky gives me a little smile and his dazzling eyes find my own.

              I finish all the food on the tray and set it to the floor beside the bed. Bucky comes up beside me and helps us both slip in under the covers. I cuddle into his chest and his warm arms engulf me to him. Forever safe in his embrace and it reminds me of things I already knew but needed to be reminded of. Bucky is the best man I could ever ask for… and I need to try to do better, not just for him but for myself too.

Won’t Stop

    You are the newest recruit for the Avengers. Your room is right next to the Winter Soldier, and since being here you are awaken by the sound of Bucky restless after his nightmares. One night you decide to go in to check if he’s okay, and your relationship transforms in a way you never thought possible.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Part 9

Original Prompt: You are the newest recruit for the Avengers. Your room is right next to the Winter Soldier, and since being here you are awaken by the sound of Bucky restless after his nightmares. One night you decide to go in to check if he’s okay, and your relationship transforms in a way you never thought possible.

Part:9/9

Author’s Note: Okay dang… so it was three years ago when I first started this. My first ever fanfiction, and series. I started writing this cause I was in a very low point in my life and needed to let these feelings all out with a nice silver lining, which is where Bucky comes in. It really helped and I loved the support and requests I have gotten along the way. You guys helped me pull out of it, unfortunately I wasn’t in the same headspace to continue with this story. I hope you all believe me when I say I have truly been working on a way to finish this for the last few years. I wish it didn’t take this long and I am thankful for all of you that are willing to see how this ends. I hope you enjoy it! I love you guys :) <3

Part 1     Part 2    Part 3    Part 4    Part 5    Part 6     Part 7    Part 8

Your Pov

             Maybe if I can get Steve to… no I can’t send Steve down there. They will be expecting it, especially since he knows the layout. Any scenario I can think of plays a loop in my head, leading on a massive headache. Leaning onto the cool table I press my forehead against to alleviate the pain.

             Tears build up in my eyes as exhaustion and frustration course through my veins. How am I supposed to figure this out if I can’t stop crying? Every time I hit a block, which is often now, a wave of overwhelming despair sinks me to my knees. Warm salty tears fall down my cheeks as I meet the hard tile floor. A burning sob rips in my throat but I fight against it. If I don’t let it out then I can push it in, maintain control faster.

“(Y/N)?” A gentle and concerned voice steps next to me. A hesitant arm winds around my shoulder pulling me into a slightly muscular chest. Tony. “We’ll get him.”

I try to speak but the sob erupts from deep inside and swallows me whole. Complete cold darkness fills my veins. His words feel like lies, but I can’t afford to think like that. Tony is right. We’ll find him. I Just hope that when we do, it won’t be too late.

“He is strong (Y/N). You helped him before.” Tony’s voice is powerful over my sobs. He strokes a comforting hand through my hair. Being closer to people has gotten easier. “You’ll help him again.”

We stay in silence, exempting my sobs. Tony just holds me together as I threaten to break at the seams. More scenarios run through my head but I can’t think of anything I haven’t thought of before. There has to be something else. There just has to be, otherwise I don’t know if I could survive truly losing him. Even if I keep breathing, a big part of me will be dead and only Bucky could resurrect me back to life.

“I wish I took Natasha instead of Barnes.” Tony mummers, not thinking I could hear him. That is when inspiration strikes.

***

“If we get in close enough Natasha can infiltrate without being detected.” You continue your pitch. “She can take them down from the inside allowing us to get in and save Bucky. I’ll also need Clint and Thor. I’m sorry Steve and Tony but they would expect you two. That’s why I’m not going in either.”

             The team looks at each other in confusion. They all agreed to my plan but I suppose they believed I would go in too. I knew they would fight with me on going so that’s why I am staying on the quinjet, not that they know that either.

“I gotta say kid,” Tony steps forward. “I thought I was gonna have to pass on your plan but you did good work.”

“Bucky would be proud (Y/N).” Steve interjects.

             A surge of gratitude flows through me as I walk over and hug them both. Since getting back I have been tough to be around, I’m not going to lie. I’ve been working on being close to people again and even though my stomach turns, I do not pull away.

“Alright, let’s suit up.”

Bucky’s Pov

             Loosing track of time in a place like this is easy. I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you. There are no windows to tell if it’s day or night, random tests that leave one tired and disoriented. But for Bucky there are the added nightmares.

             Screaming, he jolts from the ground ready to fight. The nightmares have grown increasingly worse as time continues on. Good memories turned into nightmares of him killing everyone he loves, and they fill is conscious as he remembers his latest dream.

             Dreams of being around (Y/N) snuggled together on the couch, or her showing him new foods blindfolded. Any dream that is remotely good is turned into his worst nightmare. I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you. The only thing he has left to cling to is the fact that he knows (Y/N) is safe at the compound surrounded by her family. It was so easy to offer himself up to replace her in their experiments. Bucky loves her too much to even think about her returning to this hell hole, and he knew she would be safe with the team.

“Get up.” Someone from outside commands.

             Too tired to fight anymore, Bucky does as he is told and heads toward the door. The locks systematically unlock creating a clicking pattern, almost like a song. Coming face-to-face with a guard Bucky expects him to turn around and direct him toward the next torture chamber with his name written all over it.

“Now don’t tell me the untamable mustang is broken.” A friendly female voice jokes beside him. “Don’t let (Y/N) see that.”

             Nat. Bucky recognizes her in an instant. She always talks to him like she has a permanent smirk tattooed on her face. Knowing something is about to go down he centers his mind. He is not about to let any distractions keep him from escaping. I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you.

Your Pov

“I thought you were staying at the compound.” Clint raises his brow.

“God Clint, you really have the dad stare down to a T.” I try to lighten the mood with no success. Huffing I roll my eyes. “Did you really think I was going to wait another minute to see him?”

             Pleased with my answer, Clint walks to the other side of the quinjet to keep Thor occupied. I figured that by now the rest of the team would have pieced together where I am. Honestly, who could believe that I was just going to sit around for him to come home? He would be doing the exact same thing for me. Hell, he switched places with me!

             We land in no time, the boys take their positions like we discussed and wait for Nat to come with Bucky behind her. My plan will work, it has to work because I need it to. I don’t know what version of Bucky will be coming home with us but he’s still my Bucky. I am willing to do whatever it takes to get him back.

             A thunder of bullets invade my senses as Natasha comes into sight. Fear strikes my heart as I wait in anticipation for Bucky. Suddenly there is a cry out and Natasha’s frame falls to the ground. Immediately Clint is out there trying to get to her but someone one else researches her first.

             Bucky swoops down and picks Natasha up with one arm and cradles her body to his chest. My legs start to wobble and I grip onto a panel to keep myself up right. Tears flood down my cheeks as I take in the sight of him. I can’t believe it is actually Bucky, I have been prepared for my plan to fail but I haven’t prepared myself for it to work. I’m bringing Bucky home!

“Nat, we are going to get you home and patch you right up.” Clint’s voice waivers slightly. “You hear me?”

             They lay her down in the middle of the quinjet, but I cannot move. My body wills me over to clean her wound but my mind is trained on Bucky. As if on cue he finally looks up at me. He gives me a perplexed look, like he is trying to decide if I am real or a figment of his imagination. I shiver at the thought of all the horrible things Hydra did to him while in there. Should I walk over to him? Can I touch him? Kiss him?

             A fire ignites in my chest as I walk in a painful slow motion. All I want to do is run into his arms, his safe-warm arms and kiss him. Late at night I would envision various scenarios about being together after we save him. Some where we wouldn’t leave each other’s rooms for days and just hold each other. Others where we would cry constantly at the harsh realities that Hydra forced upon us both.

             Bucky’s expression falls into furrowed borrows and a frown. I stop in my tracks and assess what I should do. Should I wait for him to come to me? I can’t imagine why he is looking at me like this.

“It’s me Bucky, (Y/N).” I say loud enough for only him to hear. “It is really me.”

             Bucky doesn’t say anything. He barely reacts. Pondering for a few moments more, Bucky finally takes a step toward me. I let him take the lead and stay in my spot, my heart racing with anticipation. His body is only mere inches away from my own. Blue orbs circle around me, drinking me in. Every few seconds his hand will twitch, gaining the courage to touch me.

             Eventually his soft fingers graze against my shoulder. His touch sends an electrifying pulse through my core. I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and the urge to wrap my body around his. Bucky gets a little more brave and cups my cheek in the palm of his hand. Our eyes gaze into the others and I can see his defense start to melt. Whatever lies they have been feeding him are ripping from the seams. He is deciding what to believe.

             His hand leaves your cheek leaving the skin cold to the air around it. But before I could miss it, Bucky’s arms wrap around my waist as I am pull into his embrace. His chest rests against my own as he sags into my hold. The remaining part of his energy is depleting and so is the rest of his resolve. Bucky hides his face in the crook of my neck, and I begin to feel the light kiss of his fallen tears escaping from his beautiful eyes.

             My grip on him tightens as I feel a few stray tears fall against my cheeks. Warmth, joy, and electricity erupt in my chest. The realization is finally starting to hit me, I have my Bucky back. The only man I have ever truly loved that loves me back with the same fiery intensity.

“I won’t stop.” Bucky’s muffled voice vibrates against my skin. “I won’t stop protecting you, and I…”

             Bucky’s words choke against the side of my throat. Tears of my own impede my vision as I keep my sobs at bay. They are last words he spoke to me on the worst day of my life. His promise, which became my promise.

“I won’t stop loving you.” I finish for him.

A Year Later: Your POV

             Nerves run down the sides of my limbs down to my fingers and toes. Pacing back-and-forth, I think of all the things in my life that have lead me up to this moment. My father who abused me in more ways than one, my aunt who kicked me to the streets, Steve who found me, and meeting Bucky. The love of my life. It has been a year since I got him back from Hydra, half a month before that Bucky switched places with me, and a month before that I was taken by Hydra. It all feels so long ago, but like it was yesterday as well.

“(Y/N),” Nat’s voice breaks me out of my trance. “They are ready for you.”

             I nervously swallow as I offer a nod. With a reassuring smile she turns around toward the door and I follow her lead. Memories of my time with Hydra flood my mind and it is almost overwhelming. I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you. I repeat Bucky’s mantra. He later explained that he repeated those words to himself when being in that cell became too much. As a reminder of why he is there, his promise.

             Descending the stairs I am careful not to trip down them. Nothing is easy when in these heals, but they complete the ensemble. According to Wanda this aspect is very important, I’m sure it is, but I feel like to me there is something else significantly more important.

             I see Wanda a few paces ahead of me. She gives me a goofy wink as the excitement bursts off of her body. A soft giggle dances in my throat that I allow to escape. It is a good day, the perfect day.

“Are you ready?” Tony’s deep voice lures me to his attention. “If not we could always duck out of here. No one would ever have to know. Though I’d probably feel a little bad. He did ask my permission after all. But again only a little.”

             I hit my hip against his in a joking manner that grants me a laugh from him. Wrapping my arm around his I take a deep breath trying to calm what is left of my nerves. Tony knows there is no where else in the universe I’d rather be than right here… or well perhaps a few yards from here.

             Suddenly the music changes indicating that it is my turn. The traditional “Here Comes the Bride” floods the room from a secluded piano. Bucky requested it, still old school at heart. The church doors open wide indicating your presence. Tony and I walk through the doors to the beat of the song. I find familiar faces in the crowd of people taking in the site of me in a wedding dress. The one dress I will ever allow myself to wear.

             My eyes cling to the family I have found at the Avenger compound. The people who always have my back. Rounding the corner I am found face-to-face with him, Bucky. My Bucky. I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you. He stands at the end of the isle in a black tuxedo. His hair slightly shorter than how he usually wears it. The biggest smile with tear streaked eyes marveling as I continue toward him.

             The floor beneath my feet is gone. I’m floating, gliding toward him. Toward my forever. Every last nerve or fear of self-doubt has fled since the moment I laid eyes on him. My grip on Tony’s arm lightens and air fills my lungs. A bone tearing smile rips across my face and I’ve never felt so much happiness in my life. Maybe that’s why I had to go through so much pain and suffering. So I could fully and confidently one day experience this day.

             Standing before me is Bucky, my soon to be husband. Tony guides my hand to Bucky’s who swiftly accept it in his. Being this close allows me to see the how incandescently happy he is and I silently pray that we have a forever of this.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the love of Bucky Barnes and (Y/N) (L/N).” Steve’s voice rings out to the crowd. “I’ve known Bucky for quite some time. Every girl he met had a thing for him, but the only one that ever caught his eye is (Y/N).”

             Bucky’s hand lightly squeezes mine. I sneak a glance at him and find that his radiant smile is still shinning across his face.

“Though the hardest parts of their lives they found comfort in each other which brings us here today to their wedding.” Steve looks first at Bucky with pride gleaming from his eyes. Looking to me I see some tears building up as he looks at me like his little sister. “Bucky repeat after me, I-“

“I Bucky Barnes.” He interrupts Steve and turns toward me. My eyes become lost in his. No one else exists, “take you (Y/N) (L/N), to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for rich or poor, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do we part.” Bucky takes my other hand with his metal one. “I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you.”

             My trance continues as I stare deeply into his dark eyes. I don’t hear Steve begin my part of the vows for me to repeat. All I can see, feel, and hear is Bucky. Everything else is white noise, lost. Taking a deep breath I say the vows like I’ve imagined saying to this man the moment I fell in love with him.

“I, (Y/N) (L/N).” My voice slightly wavers as the overfilling joy takes over my senses. Bucky squeezes my hands once again and I am centered. “Take you Bucky Barnes, to be me husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for rich or poor, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward until death do we part.” Taking a deep breath I continue the last bit. “I won’t stop. I won’t stop protecting you, and I won’t stop loving you.”

And you never did stop….   THE END

< Previous

TAG LIST:

@spacemarkimoo@jhangelface0523@youreahandsomedevil@staringmoony@tokoyamisstuff@caffeinatedpajamas