sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You’re back in New York; as if nothing ever happened.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: there shouldn’t actually be any besides major angst (there will be an ending; good or bad is up to you)
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: you greedy motherfuckers, here’s part three lol
_________________________
It’s a beautiful autumn day in New York City, and classes started again and this should be both of your last years at the university. With very few credits left to earn, all your classes are morning sessions, thank god so you and Stacy usually meet up to grab lunch to-go on the way to her home.
“Can we grab some coffee on the way home too? I really need caffeine. Professor Rogers gave us our first assignment and I really want to finish it early.”
“Of course. Isn’t he like a friend of your mom’s?” you asked, your gripping tightening on your bag.
“Yeah, I’m like ten-thousand percent sure he’s got a thing for my mom,” Stacy chuckled.
“He does?” you felt territorial, almost jealous that other people found her attractive. Of course they did, they had eyes.
“Yeah, but he’s not her type,” Stacy said.
“What is her type?”
“Girls,” she laughed; of course you knew her type, you fucked her.
“Right,” you chuckled, playing a part.
“You want anything?”
“No, thanks though,” you replied.
Stacy got her things and in no time you arrived at the luxurious penthouse apartment that is Stacy’s home. You had moved away from your home long ago, living in a quaint studio in New York, and four years ago when you first met her, you had teased Stacy about how she still lived with her mom two years into college. That was clearly before she invited you to her place and you admit it, you probably wouldn’t move out either if you lived in a place like this.
“I don’t think I’ll ever walk in here unimpressed,” you muttered, making Stacy chuckled.
“My mom works hard,” she boasted, it was true though.
Nat was extremely wealthy. You don’t really know exactly what she does for work besides building things but she works alongside billionaire architect Tony Stark, so yeah she makes a shit ton of money.
You and Stacy ate your lunches in the kitchen talking about each other’s day and what happened. Unfortunately her and Jason broke up; not on extremely bad terms though. However, during that ‘surprise trip’ that had gone a bit wrong during summer, Jason had told Stacy that he was moving to Chicago for a job opportunity. It moved faster than either were anticipating and they mutually broke up on good terms.
“Have you talked to Jason since the move?” you said cautiously.
“Yeah, he likes the new job.”
“That’s good.” There was an awkward pause and you got worried you hit a nerve.
“What about you? You dating? Talking? Fucking?”
“Stace,” you gasped. Yes; to the fucking. Your mom. Literally.
“Come on, what’s going on with you? You haven’t introduced me to anyone in two years.”
Truthfully, the day you met her mom, you hadn’t actually talked to anyone romantically since. But Stacy didn’t need to know that.
“I realized two years ago how much more important having a career is than having a lover,” you said cheekily.
“Bull! Shit!” Stacy cackled.
“What’s going on here?” Natasha walked in the front door. Fuck.
“Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes here hasn’t gotten laid in like what, two years? Tell her she’s to put herself out there again,” Stacy said.
The long awkward stare between you and Nat would probably go down as one of the most uncomfortable moments in history. Your eyes silently begging her to not say anything or do anything that would bring up suspicion. It genuinely hurt Nat, that you were almost embarrassed or ashamed of Nat but nonetheless she continued playing her part.
“I don’t think it’d be very responsible of me to go along with similar judgement, but out of curiosity, what’s got you tied down?” Nat teased.
“I just think that, personally, having a career and doing something in my future that’ll make me happy is more important than a partner,” you clarified.
“Ugh, if you have a partner, you wouldn’t have to worry about not doing something that makes you very happy,” Stacy joked.
“Stacy!” you and Nat scolded the young adult.
After quite the awkward conversation, Stacy dragged you away to her room so she could finish her work with your company. You simply sat on her bed watching TV waiting for either Stacy to finish or for sleep to come. Two movies later and it was barely eight thirty at night but you felt exhausted. You thought maybe you could get away with a small nap but nope.
“No, don’t fall asleep on me, I’m almost finished!”
“Stacy,” you drew out the end of her name in a long whine.
“Please!”
“You’ve been at it for like four hours, let me nap at least for twenty minutes.”
“No, I swear I’m almost done. Go to the kitchen and grab some snacks and candy. I’ll meet you in a second to grab the drinks, ok?”
“You suck.”
You walked out of her room hearing her quiet giggles as you left. Unfortunately for you, there stood Nat with her back towards you as she waited patiently for the coffee maker to finish her cup. You wanted to turn back and hide from her until she finished but what were you going to say to Stacy? Oh, since the night I fucked your mom, I can’t stand being near her because she makes my stomach all weird and nauseous and I get nervous? Yeah, good answer.
Before you could even make any sort of decision to avoid having to talk to the beautiful older woman, she sensed a presence behind her turning to find you standing awkwardly as if you had been caught; you did in sense.
“Hi,” she said.
“Coffee? This late?” you walked to the cabinet beside her grabbing snacks one by one.
“Yeah, got a pile of paperwork that’s been calling my name for too long,” she responded.
“Night time working must run in the family,” you joked.
“Stacy still working?”
“She said to grab some snacks because she’s almost finished.”
“She uh, she mentioned she had Professor Rogers this year. Friends of yours, isn’t he?” you asked awkwardly knowing very well the answer.
“That is true. We interred together at Stark Industries when Howard Stark was the owner.”
“He’s quite handsome,” you avoided her burning gaze.
“You think?” she teased, clearly aware of the game you were playing.
“Hm-mm.”
“Eh, not really my type.”
“What is your type?” you cautiously ask.
“Well, women for one,” she started cheekily.
“I wouldn’t usually go for women so young, but this one girl I met, she’s something special.”
Your stomach was doing somersaults. Your palms felt sweaty and your knees felt shaky.
“What is she like?”
“She is gorgeous, hard working, knows what she wants in life. She’s adorable, funny, charming. She values the friendships she has and puts the benefits of others first before her,” she spoke slowly as she caged you in her arms in front of the counter.
“She sounds alright,” you felt like you had to answer, or rebuttal her in some way but you couldn’t think.
“She’s perfect.”
Her perfume, her shampoo, her fucking close porximity. Everything was so overwhelming. Her lips were inches away from yours and you were using all the willpower you possessed within your body not to pull her close and kiss her senselessly. You’re not going to deny that you didn’t think about those moments in her arms every chance you got but it’s wrong. Right?
“I miss you.”
“You said one weekend,” you told her.
“Of which got ruined. You still owe me one more night.”
“It won’t be tonight, if that’s what you’re implying, your daughter, my best friend, is in her bedroom waiting for me.”
“I can be quick if you can be quiet,” she smirked devilishly.
“Nat!” you yelled with a quiet voice afraid Stacy would hear.
“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” she chuckled.
“Why can’t this work? I want you and I know damn well you want me just as bad,” she said seriously.
“You know why.”
“No, I don’t.”
“I can’t do that to Stacy; dating her own mother? And what about you? You’re one of the richest, most famous, and most important women in all of New York. What would happen when people find out that you’re fucking a girl that’s your daughter’s age, her best friend?” you explained.
“It’s not fucking,” she argued.
“You think that matters?”
“It does to me,” Nat said.
“Nat, we can’t. It’s just not meant to be,” you sniffled.
She lifted her hand and wiped the stray tear that fell down your cheek. She hated this feeling. She hated how upset this all made you feel too. She wishes you were a bit older, and her a bit younger. Maybe then this would be possible.
“Can I have one last kiss, if this is really over?”
You couldn’t say no. She cupped your face pressing her lips. You wrapped your arms tightly around her. Her lips moved perfectly against yours and you felt you had to hold back a moan after how long you’ve been craving this moment. You pulled away before things got too heated, turning your head almost in shame with how much you loved it.
“Stacy’s waiting for me.”
“Right; I’ve- I uh, I’ve got a ton of work to finish.”
“Bye, Nat.”
“Bye, hon.”
She walked away to her office and you gathered all the snacks and candy bars you collected before, well. Unbeknownst to either of you, Stacy closed her laptop minutes after you walked out the door. She organized her desk and waited a minute for you to return.
“She’s probably having trouble carrying everything,” Stacy thought out loud, walking down the hall towards the kitchen.
“I miss you.”
“You said one weekend,” she heard your muffled voice, whispering like you were hiding something.
And well, Nat walked away to her office and you gathered all the snacks and candy bars you collected. Unbeknownst to either of you, Stacy heard everything.
you must be 18+ to read any of these fics and interact with me. MINORS DNI!
i do not allow my fics to be reposted, translated, or plagiarized at all! do not mention my fics or blog on any public forum other than ao3 and tumblr. do not recreate anything from my fics!
summary: sometimes you have to fight like hell to make sure you’re still alive.
word count: 6.8k
pairings: tony x black!reader ; OOC!dark!bucky x black!reader
warnings: kidnapping, abuse, weapons, swearing, mentions of marital rape, mentions of being impregnated from rape so please beware and make sure you’re 18+ and in the right mindset to read this!!!!
___________
———-
———-
“Love and abuse cannot coexist. Abuse and neglect are by definition, the opposite of nurturance and care… Too many of us need to cling to a notion of love that either makes abuse acceptable or at least makes it seem that whatever happened wasn’t as bad… To begin by always thinking love as an action rather than a feeling is one way in which anyone using the word in this manner automatically assumes accountability and responsibility”
