morganwritesfics (previously marvelfic)

“Wanna come over and work on the physics project?”

Peter had his head in his locker, cramming books he didn’t need inside while shoveling the ones he did need out and into his backpack. He closed the locker door, accidentally slamming it in his haste, to find Ned standing on the other side.

“What? Sorry,” Peter said. He had heard Ned but he wasn’t really listening. He definitely wasn’t ignoring Ned, but his mind was focused on the tasks he needed to get to and he could already feel his feet carrying him down the hall before Ned had a chance to answer. 

“Do you want to come over and work on the physics project?” Ned asked again, following Peter down the semi-crowded hallway”.

“I can’t today, maybe tomorrow?” Peter said over his shoulder.

He pushed through the front door and hopped down the staircase in steps of two, slinging his backpack over his shoulders as he did so. Ned did his best to keep up.

“You’ve been running nonstop lately,” Ned said when he finally caught up to Peter on the lawn, “You skipped lunch again and I’ve never seen you look so tired. You okay?”

Peter finally stopped and stood still for a second, turning back to Ned.

“Yeah, yeah,” Peter assured, clearly in denial, “I’m great. Just, busy, that’s all. I’ve had a lot of homework, and May has been piling on the chores, so…”

He started moving again, leaving Ned standing in the lawn.

“I gotta go, but I’ll catch up with you tomorrow,” Peter called with an apologetic smile as he jogged backwards, “I promise we’ll hang out after school, okay?”

“Okay,” Ned shrugged, “I guess so.”

Peter gave Ned two thumbs up and a big smile and then turned around and jogged off. Once he was safely out of view of the school, he ducked into an alleyway and crouched behind a trash can. He quickly swapped out his uniform for his suit. Once he had his mask situated over his face, he tucked his uniform back into his backpack and put it back over his shoulders.

He webbed through the city to get home quicker, trying his best to stay high and out of sight. As he did so, he rattled off a list of chores and tasks he had to get done as soon as he got home. May had agreed to let him take “extra-curricular lessons” at the compound, but only if he stayed on top of all of his homework and all of his chores. So in an attempt to manage it all, he started to develop a habit of skipping lunch and dinner some days in order to cram in his homework or his chores and still have time to make it to the compound.

He didn’t have any lessons tonight, but he did have to get to Manhattan’s Chinatown to pick up some stuff from the shelter for May, and then get back to Queens to clean his room and do his homework. He figured that if he could get it all done tonight and maybe do a little extra, he would be free to hang out with Ned tomorrow and then be able to make his lessons at the end of the week.

As he swung over an alleyway, he heard commotion down below. He landed and crouched on the edge of the roof, peering down below to see what was going on. One man was hassling another, in what looked to be a drug deal gone wrong, or maybe an unpaid debt.

Peter glanced down the alleyway and could see the Sanctum Sanctorum just a few blocks away. He had been given strict instructions to not engage with criminals or bad guys unless the life of a civilian was clearly being threatened, and that if another more seasoned Avenger or hero was nearby (or in this case, if the threat was in Strange’s neighborhood), Peter was supposed to let them handle it.

He looked back down at the two men who were still arguing in the alley and waited to see if the situation would diffuse on it’s own, but it only seemed to be escalating. He saw movement at one end of the alley and looked to see a man with a crowbar slowly moving towards the dispute. A man with a baseball bat and a man with fists so large that he didn’t need a melee weapon approached from the other end.

By the matching marks on the biceps of those three men and the larger man in the dispute, Peter could tell that this wasn’t going to end well for the other man in the altercation. That, and the lonely man was now pleading instead of yelling.

Peter glanced back towards the Sanctum Sanctorum.

“Come on, come on,” he whispered anxiously. He knew that he had rules to follow, but he couldn’t let this poor guy get pummeled to death.

There was no sign of Strange coming to the rescue, or anyone one else, for that matter, so Peter quietly slid his backpack off of his shoulders and webbed it to the edge of the roof for safe keeping. He checked his mask and suit, and then took a deep breath and stepped off the ledge.

He perched on the railing of a fire escape closer towards the men below. He hardly made a sound as he landed, so he remained unseen by the goons. In two quick moves, he snatched the bat and crowbar from the two goons and webbed them to the brick wall out of reach.

“Hey, what the,” one goon said, startled. They all quickly glanced around the alley and then finally noticed Peter.

“Hey you!” the man with the fists shouted, “Get down here ‘n’ fight or stay out-ov-it!”

“Let him go and we can all pretend like this didn’t happen,” Peter offered.

“Ha! Yeah right, kid,” the leader said.

The man who had brought the crowbar spit in Peter’s direction, but Peter was well out of his range. The bat and fists guys moved towards the victim, who Peter could now see was way smaller than the gang of goons. 

Telling himself that he had no choice, Peter quickly stretched his neck and fingers and then leapt from the fire escape. He swung, kicked, and threw punches in rapid success, hearing grunts and profanities from the goons with ever hit he made. His vision began to blur, despite being sure that he hadn’t been hit in the head or anything else that could be incapacitating. He continued fighting, though, shooting webs at the men and holding them off of himself well enough.

Peter’s vision cleared just long enough for him to see an unmarked van pull up at the end of the alley, and the leader of the gang command the men to get in. They all piled into the black vehicle and the door slammed shut behind the last one. Peter stumbled in the alley, looking both ways to make sure there were no goons left waiting to surprise him. His vision faltered again, blurring and fading in and out.

Unsure of what was happening, he shot a web up to the edge of the roof and tried to lift himself up, but ten feet from the ground the web snapped and he landed flat on his back in the alley. He blacked out on impact.

Peter slowly blinked his eyes open. He was relieved to find that his vision was normal again, aside from the typical post-sleep fuzziness. However, he had a terrible migraine and felt unreasonably weak. He blinked a few times more, realizing that he didn’t recognize his surroundings.

He wasn’t in the alley, and he wasn’t in his bed at home. He wasn’t in a cot or an office at the shelter, and he wasn’t in a hospital room. “Where am I”, he thought.

The room was dim and the walls were a deep, rich wood. He felt the surface beneath him, which was a plush leather couch as dark as the walls. The blanket that was draped over him felt more luxurious than any fabric he had ever touched, and was somehow both as light as a feather and as heavy as the Hulk.

Peter weakly pulled the blanket off of him and tried to stand up. His head began to spin a bit, so he steadied himself, but continued to try to stand anyways. Before he could do so, a deep and quietly commanding voice broke through the silence, startling Peter.

“Sit.”

Peter did as he was instructed, though not by his own choice. His legs gave way and he found himself falling back into the couch, his stomach rumbling and his head still spinning.

Doctor Stephen Strange set a tray down on the coffee table that sat in front of the couch, and lifted the dome lid off to reveal a heaping pile of food that smelled heavenly.

Strange sat down gracefully in a leather armchair nearby and summoned a cup of tea for himself out of thin air.

“Eat.”

Realizing that his stomach had become an empty void, Peter mustered up the last bit of energy he had to sit up and pick up the fork. He tasted the first bite of the juiciest steak he’d ever had, and then began shoveling bites of steak and broccoli into his mouth.

“Slow down, or you’ll get sick,” Strange said, and his voice was more kind than it was commanding this time.

“Sorry,” Peter said through a mouth full of food, and then made a conscious effort to follow Strange’s advice.

They sat in silence while Strange sipped his bottomless cup of tea and Peter ate from the plate that never emptied until he finally felt full. He set the plate down (which still had a heap of mashed potatoes on it that he was dying to eat more off, but was too stuffed to do so) and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. He was already starting to feel significantly better, and felt guilty for being so reckless with his time and health.

“Thank you,” he mumbled shyly, “I don’t know how to pay you back.”

“You can repay me by not letting it happen again,” Strange said candidly, “at least not in my borough.”

“Yes sir,” Peter said. He took a small bite of mashed potatoes, unable to resist them, and then looked up at Strange again. “Are you going to tell the others?”

Doctor Strange looked at Peter for a moment over his cup of tea, as if he was considering his options.

“No, not this time,” he said finally, “but you need to be more careful. If the boss of those men hadn’t called them off or if someone else had found you… I can’t say what could’ve happened. But you need to be more careful, and you need to eat more, for christ’s sake.”

“Yes sir,” Peter nodded while stuffing another bite of potatoes in his mouth.

Realizing that he didn’t even know how long he had been asleep, Peter suddenly stood up, panicking.

“May’s gonna kill me,” he said anxiously, grabbing the armrest of the couch so he wouldn’t fall over from the sudden movement, “I’ve gotta get home. How do I-”

He glanced around, looking for a door or an exit, but before he could find one, a flare of gold caught his eye. Strange, still poised in his chair, had opened a portal a few feet past the couch. It opened up onto the roof of Peter’s apartment building.

Peter’s eyes grew wide at the site, still fascinated by Strange’s abilities.

“Th-thank you, sir,” Peter said distractedly, stepping cautiously towards the portal. He clenched and relaxed his fists a few times, trying to dispel his nerves.

“Oh, Peter,” Strange said, just before Peter finally entered the portal.

Peter turned and looked back at Strange, who simply nodded towards the coffee table. Next to the tray of food sat a large brown paper bag with the top rolled shut. Peter stepped towards the table, picked it up, and curiously unrolled the top. Inside the bag, he found the documents May asked him to pick up from the shelter, as well as his backpack and some snacks.

"Oh, gee," Peter said as he looked over the contents of the bag in wonder before looking back at Strange, "thanks… again."

Strange simply nodded, masking the admiration he was feeling for the kid by feigning impatience.

"Go, before she starts to worry," Strange said, "and don't let it happen again."

TAGGED:

@totheendofthelinepal @locke-writes @rogersxbarnesx @bbbarneswrites @harley-dent @sebbytrash @i-less-than-three-you @aenna-4 @litterally-trash @belleetlabeast @stormy-thomas @becausefanfictionthough @sebaestans @fab-notfat @shieldagentofthemonth @spnfandommademeamoose @hellomissmabel @lovely-geek @allinhishands @majestic-squad @happelu970 @7minutes-tomidnight @-supernatural-coffee-llama @angel34jolly-blog @feelmyroarrrr @dearthofequanimity @lbouvet @takemetothefictionalworld @thesmolbear @avengerofyourheart @laurenwhitehouse-blog @beccaanne814-blog @melonberri @lostinspace33 @fangirl1029 @ryverpenrad @angryschnauzer @lovelyladylilac @bellenuit45 @knittingknerdy @the-real-tony-stank @castielohcastiel @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @eyeofdionysus @buckyhawk @oinchavengewho @whatsbetterthanfantasy @diving-down-to-wonderland @ianbewiild @pixierox101 @marvel-ous-fics @devilstrip @girl-next-door-writes @nikkitia7 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @jaybird6232 @crownie-sr @crazychick010 @tinacuppy-blog @buckybarnesisalittleshit @fantasticallyabnormal @popsicle863 @bwozzler @bellastellaluna @sebbeanstan @divide-supermarketflowers @secondstartotheright-imagines @aesthetic-bbygoats @just-another-fangirl777 @shieldagentofthemonth @broken-pieces @its-onepiece @strawberrybucky @lovelyfuckingcunt @4theluvofall @txcountrybelle @ginasellsbooks @phasma-trash @thevanishedillusion @magnitude101999 @lady-thor-foster @power-of-god-and-anime @volcanicchoas @a-watson-in-search-of-a-sherlock @olivelongnprosper @yourwonderbelle @neeadinghugs @odinhson @dafnekeenfblog @thinkwritexpress-official @vethrvolnir2 @wildefire @heartssick @riddikulus-obsessions @cudan2 @metalarmlover @jaegers-and-kaijus @pandamambo5 @bookscoffeeandracoons @katelynkargol @stonedxsoldier

Six months prior to the Battle of New York, you and Tony met at a gala and hit it off instantly. By the end of the night, you had both ditched your respective dates and you ended up going home with Tony. He moved you into his penthouse the next day and the two of you were inseparable ever since, except for, of course, when the world needed saving.

But as the world grew more helpless and more dangerous and as Tony became more reckless, you found yourself spending most of your time wondering when (or even if) he would be coming home from whatever mission he was currently on. In the last two months of your relationship, you spent more nights tossing and turning worrying about him than you spent actually with him.

The Battle of New York was the final straw. You had witnessed almost everything from the safety of your penthouse window, and while you were thoroughly relieved that Tony had survived such a horrifyingly long fall, you knew that your heart just couldn’t take this anymore. You couldn’t wait around for the world to stop needing him, or worse, for it to take him from you. But you wouldn't even think of asking him to put up the suit and not save the world. So you saw only one option, and so you did what you thought was best. 

You packed a bag, emptied your personal bank account, and bought a one-way ticket to Italy.

You left him a note, telling him that you loved him with your whole heart but that you just couldn't do it anymore. That he deserved someone strong enough to carry the weight of his world, and you deserved peace of mind, comfort, and security. You told him you were leaving, that you couldn't stand the thought of staying in New York if you weren't with him, but that you'd be okay and you were going where your heart needed to be to heal. You signed the note and left it on your side table, you threw away your cell phone and left behind your other devices, and you went off the grid and left the country before he even made it home from the battle.

You found a quaint little apartment with a breathtaking view and a landlord that accepted cash. Before you even unpacked your suitcase you had already found an art supply store, so instead of furniture and decor, you filled your apartment with drop cloths and easels and canvases. Painting was both your greatest passion and your main source of income, and was also the only thing that could even remotely try to keep your mind off of Tony. (Well, that and a good drink.)

Once a week you would call Nat from a payphone, just to check in on Tony and everything else. Not really to hear if he missed you or if he was with other people yet (he did and he wasn't), but just to make sure he was alive. Natasha knew you were in Europe and had eventually convinced you to tell her you were in Italy, but that's the most she knew. She swore to not tell Tony, and she was always just happy to hear you were doing well.

As each week passed, you found yourself feeling better and better. You absolutely loved Italy, and while you knew you'd always love Tony, you were sleeping through the night each night and you hadn't been feeling that stress and anxiety that you'd get every time he'd put on that suit. You were really starting to feel like you had moved on, and that you were okay with the way things turned out.

So you were completely and totally blindsided when you walked off your elevator and into the lobby to find Tony conversing with the concierge. 

“I will pay your rent for a whole year, buddy,” Tony said to the charming old man, “Just-”

“Sir, I assure you that I do not need your money, and I will not tell you again,” the man said impatiently, “the answer is no.”

Neither Tony nor the concierge had noticed you exit the elevator, so you stood quietly and observed the heated conversation, feeling like you were in some strange dream.

“Then who do I need to speak to so that I can buy the building?” Tony asked candidly.

“Sir, the building isn’t for sale, and if it were, it would cost you well over four million-”

“I’ll pay five,” Tony interjected, surprising the man.

“Sir…,” the man said, lowering his voice to a serious whisper, “if the building were for sale and if you had five million to pay for it, that’s an awful lot of money to spend just to find some girl.”

“She’s not just some girl,” Tony said, leaning in earnestly and matching the mans volume, “She’s-”

Your ears began to ring, your head began to spin, and a flutter of butterflies took flight inside your stomach. You barely heard the words he spoke, describing you and his love for you to the poor concierge; all you could think about in that moment was the night you met him and the night you left him, and how every feeling you thought you had let go of was just buried beneath layers of paint or put up on shelves in empty wine bottles.

Everything came back to focus when you heard the concierge speak again.

“Sir, I wish that there was more that I could do, but I simply cannot give you her unit number. I can, however, take a message for you and relay it to her, and see if she will call you, or perhaps meet you somewhere-”

“That won’t be necessary, Stefano,” you said politely from across the room, “but thank you for your diligence.”

They both stopped and looked at you, Stefano with a look of confusion and Tony with a look of enamorment.

Tony quickly mumbled something like “that’s her, thanks for your time, sorry about all that,” to Stefano without sparing him another glance and then quickly made his way to you. He tried his best to look casual and confident, but his eyes wildly traced your face and figure and he couldn’t control the grin on his face.

“Hi,” he said simply, once he was standing in front of you, trying with all his might to keep a respectful distance.

You glanced over his shoulder to see that Stefon was staring, innocently but curiously wanting to know what would happen next. You were barely sure yourself, but you knew that no matter what happened, you didn’t want it to happen in the lobby.

“Do you, um, want to go upstairs?” You asked Tony.

“Yes! I mean, yeah, sure, if that’s okay with you,” Tony answered, trying to stay cool.

You pressed the button for the elevator again. Once the doors closed, the silence was deafening and incredibly awkward. You both stood on opposite sides of the elevator, facing each other. You watched the number as it climbed to your floor, and he watched you.

“Wait, weren’t you going somewhere?” Tony asked, realizing there had to be a reason you were down in the lobby in the first place.

“I was just going to get more paint, but that can wait,” you said, almost shyly. You arrived on your floor and he followed you down the hall to your apartment.

“Oh, wow. This view is incredible,” Tony said, looking out through your balcony doors as you put your keys and bag away.

“What are you doing here, Tony,” you asked frankly, still unsure of exactly what he expected or what you wanted.

“Well,” he shrugged his shoulders, keeping his back to you as he continued looking out at the view, “I was in the neighborhood and thought maybe I’d stop in and just see how you were doing. Catch up, ya’ know?”

“Tony…”

He sighed and turned around to face you, knowing you weren’t going to take that for an answer.

“There’s no way you were just in the neighborhood when you shouldn’t even know what neighborhood I live in,” you said, “so I’ll ask again. What are you doing here?”

“I’m… here for a mission?”

“I talked to Nat two days ago. If there was a mission, she would’ve told me.”

“I’m… here on vacation?”

“You? A vacation?” you asked dramatically, “Did the world finally stop falling apart long enough for you to take one?”

The words hit him like a blow to the chest, remembering the words you wrote him in your goodbye letter, which he had read twice a day every day since you left.

“Sorry,” you said, wishing you could take back those words both spoken and written, “that was unnecessary. But seriously... what are you doing here? How did you find me?”

“I… I don’t know,” Tony said, a faint smirk teasing his lips, “but I definitely didn’t trace Natasha’s phone calls to find the payphone you’ve been using three blocks from here, and I definitely haven’t spent the last two days going to every apartment building within a five block radius of that payphone and bribing bellmen, concierges, and owners to tell me if you lived there, and I definitely didn’t eventually try this building, see your name on a mail slot, and then attempt to bribe the incredibly resilient Stefano to just let me see you. I definitely didn’t do those things, if that’s what you’re asking, and I’m definitely not here to tell you that I’m sorry, I’m still in love with you, and I can’t spend another day without you.”

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. You wanted to be angry, but you were feeling every emotion but that one. Joy and amusement. Fear and regret. Love and lust. Everything but anger. You couldn’t help but laugh at what he had just admitted and at the thought of him going door to door and building to building trying to find you.

His face lit up as you laughed, and he took the opportunity to close some of the distance between the two of you. He stood in front of you, a nervous smirk plastered to his face.

“Please say something,” he whispered.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you said honestly.

“Do you forgive me?” he asked nervously.

“That depends on what you’re apologizing for,” you said teasingly, wiping the tears from your eyes that were inadvertently caused by the flood of mixed emotions that had hit you. Tony took a tiny step closer to you and softly wiped a stray tear off of your cheek with his thumb. 

“For putting you through all of that and expecting you to be totally fine with it…” he whispered sincerely, “for not doing a better job at taking care of you, taking care of myself so that I could take care of you… for ever giving you a reason to leave…”

“And for stalking me?” you whispered, laughing.

“And for stalking you,” he chuckled.

You nodded, sniffling. “I forgive you.”

He chuckled softly in relief and took another tiny step closer to you. You fought back more tears, tears of both relief and of longing. He reached out and rested his hands softly on your hips, and when you didn’t pull back or react, took another step closer to you and pulled you to him, closing almost all of the distance between the two of you.

Your eyes searched his as his eyes traced your features. When his eyes finally met yours again, your heart skipped a beat. You rested your hands on his chest and his eyes began to water ever so slightly. He squeezed your hips gently as he swallowed hard.

“Do you still love me?” he asked with a whisper, seemingly terrified to hear the answer but desperately needing to know, nonetheless.

A smile teased your lips as you nodded without hesitation. Immediately after understanding your answer, he captured your mouth in a hungry, passionate, desperate kiss - the kind that can only be shared between two lovers who were apart for too long. The tears that he was holding back spilled out as you wrapped one hand around the back of his neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

He slipped one hand beneath the hem of your shirt and traced up your spine, eventually resting his palm on your bare mid back and pushing you closer to him. His other hand slid down to your ass, lifting you up onto your toes so you were pressed against him.

You pulled out of the kiss just enough to steady yourself and catch your breath. He kept his holds on you but rested his forehead against yours, allowing you more time to breathe and giving himself a chance to slow his heart rate.

“God I’ve missed you,” you whispered, tugging lazily at his shirt with one hand and leaning into him even more.

“I know,” he chuckled lowly, giving your ass a gentle, teasing squeeze.

You pulled your head back just enough to look at him with a furrowed brow. You did miss him, of course, but you wondered what made him so confidently agree.

He nodded his head towards the various canvases that were stacked haphazardly and leaning against the far wall. Nearly all of them were painted in tones of only reds and golds. You had so thoroughly convinced yourself that you were over Tony, that you hadn’t even noticed the irony of your repetitive color choices.

He trailed soft kisses along your jaw and up your neck as you eyed the paintings.

“I thought you didn’t like the suit,” he whispered into your ear with a devilish smirk.

“I don’t like the jobs. Or really, the injuries that come with the jobs,” you said simply, turning your gaze back to him with a smirk of your own, “I never said anything about not liking the suit… especially about how you look in it.”

“Oh, is that so?” He said lowly as the blaze in his eyes grew hotter.

You nodded coyly with a smirk, and immediately his lips were on yours again as he backed you up towards your bedroom.

You didn't know whether you would stay in Italy, return to New York, or throw a dart at a map and find someplace new to go to together. All you knew in that moment, with his hands all over you and his lips on yours, was that you'd never let him go again.

TAGGED: @totheendofthelinepal @locke-writes @rogersxbarnesx @bbbarneswrites @harley-dent @sebbytrash @i-less-than-three-you @aenna-4 @litterally-trash @belleetlabeast @stormy-thomas @becausefanfictionthough @sebaestans @fab-notfat @shieldagentofthemonth @spnfandommademeamoose @hellomissmabel @lovely-geek @allinhishands @majestic-squad @happelu970 @7minutes-tomidnight @-supernatural-coffee-llama @angel34jolly-blog @feelmyroarrrr @dearthofequanimity @lbouvet @takemetothefictionalworld @thesmolbear @avengerofyourheart @laurenwhitehouse-blog @beccaanne814-blog @melonberri @lostinspace33 @fangirl1029 @ryverpenrad @angryschnauzer @lovelyladylilac @bellenuit45 @knittingknerdy @the-real-tony-stank @castielohcastiel @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @eyeofdionysus @buckyhawk @oinchavengewho @whatsbetterthanfantasy @diving-down-to-wonderland @ianbewiild @pixierox101 @marvel-ous-fics @devilstrip @girl-next-door-writes @nikkitia7 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @jaybird6232 @crownie-sr @crazychick010 @tinacuppy-blog @buckybarnesisalittleshit @fantasticallyabnormal @popsicle863 @bwozzler @bellastellaluna @sebbeanstan @divide-supermarketflowers @secondstartotheright-imagines @aesthetic-bbygoats @just-another-fangirl777 @shieldagentofthemonth @broken-pieces @its-onepiece @strawberrybucky @lovelyfuckingcunt @4theluvofall @txcountrybelle @ginasellsbooks @phasma-trash @thevanishedillusion @magnitude101999 @lady-thor-foster @power-of-god-and-anime @volcanicchoas @a-watson-in-search-of-a-sherlock @olivelongnprosper @yourwonderbelle @neeadinghugs @odinhson @dafnekeenfblog @thinkwritexpress-official @vethrvolnir2 @wildefire @heartssick @riddikulus-obsessions @cudan2 @metalarmlover @jaegers-and-kaijus @pandamambo5 @bookscoffeeandracoons @katelynkargol @stonedxsoldier

“James Buchanan Barnes get down here this INSTANT!!!”

You lifted your finger off the intercom button, waiting for a response from Bucky. The speaker crackled and then you heard a familiar voice that frustratingly didn’t belong to the soldier.

“Uh oh,” Sam chuckled through the intercom from somewhere else in the tower, “somebody’s in trouble.”

It crackled again, and this time it was Bucky.

“Shut up, birdbrain,” Bucky said to Sam from somewhere else in the tower. He paused for a moment and then continued, his voice thicker, “Where exactly would you like me to come?”

You rolled your eyes before aggressively pressing the button again.

“The laundry room,” you said through gritted teeth, “now.”

You leaned back against the dryer with your arms crossed across your waist, tapping your foot impatiently and chewing your lip as you waited.

Since the day you moved into the tower four months ago, the two of you had practically hated each other. He acted like he could barely stand to be in the same room as you, and if he had no choice, he’d avoid you like the plague. Any conversations you two happened to have was filled with snarky comments and insults, driving you both to hate each other more. You had no idea why, because you got along swimmingly with everyone else, but you were way too stubborn to ask anyone and you refused to ask Bucky himself. He was so hot it was intimidating, and as much as you wished you could just stand and stare sometimes, he either got under your skin or just left the room before you ever really had the chance.  So you normally did your best to avoid him and prevent unnecessary tension or confrontation, but you’d already had a stressful week, he just sent you over the edge, and you were finally ready to let him have it.

Two whole minutes passed before Bucky finally decided to make an appearance.

“You summoned?” He said lazily, leaning against the open door frame of the laundry room.

You huffed, already annoyed with his attitude. You reached behind yourself and snatched a pair of your boyshorts off of the top of the dryer- the ones you normally wore with oversized t-shirts to the gym or to training, since they were tight enough to not get in the way but still covered enough to pass as shorts. The once-white undies were still damp from the washing machine, but more importantly, they were now a soft shade of pink.

“What is this?” You asked rhetorically, holding the boyshorts out in front of you for him to see. They dangled from between your index finger and thumb, and you waved them a bit for emphasis.

“Your…” Bucky hesitated for a brief moment, his brow knitting as he tried to find the right word, as if he was ever actually concerned about what would be appropriate to say around you, “underwear?”

“No shit, Bucky,” you said irritatedly, “Why are they pink?”

He shrugged innocently, and by the sincerely uncertain look on his face, you realized that he actually didn’t know.

You groaned as you tossed the boyshorts back on top of the dryer. You bent over the washing machine that still contained the rest of your white boyshorts and towels, dug down to the bottom, and pulled out a red shirt.

A red henley, to be exact. Bucky’s red henley.

Bucky’s eyes went wide as you held up the shirt for him to see, and he began rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

“Care to explain?” you said through gritted teeth.

“We were eating tacos and I spilled one on my shirt, I didn’t want it to stain so I ran it down here and threw it in the wash. I didn’t realize there was already a load in there. I didn’t even know it could do that,” he said sheepishly. 

“My clothes were already in here and the wash cycle was already going. You would’ve heard it or would’ve seen the water, and you clearly didn’t have to do anything other than open and close the door,” you said, trying not to sound too condescending, “Your telling me you threw your shirt in there with no clue that someone else’s clothes were in there?!”

“Basically,” he said quietly with another shrug.

“Jesus, Bucky, how inconsiderate can you be?!” You knew now that it was just an accident, and you really didn’t plan to go off on him like this, but your last nerve had already been cut and you just couldn’t stop yourself, “I can’t keep putting up with this! First, you avoid me. Or, you’re an absolute ass to me when you’re not avoiding me. Then, you ruin all my shorts and all my towels because of a fucking taco stain on your old ass henley? I just- I can’t anymore! You’re impossible to live with!”

Bucky’s shoulders tensed with every word that spewed out of your mouth, and by the end of it he was looking at the ground and avoiding your eyes. When he figured you were finished, he took a small step forward and snatched the shirt from your hands.

“Yeah,” he said beneath his breath as he turned back to head for the door, “Well you’re not so easy to live with either, princess.”

You clenched your fists and bit your lip, appalled that he’d have the audacity to say something like that.

“Excuse me? What did you just say?”

Bucky stopped just before the door and dropped his shoulders. He regretted saying anything, but he couldn’t back down now. He turned on his heel and faced you, but still avoided your eyes.

“I said you’re not so easy to live with either,” he said with a frustrated confidence that you weren’t expecting, “Yeah, okay, I’ve been an ass. I’ll admit that. And I get that I’m not the best roommate all the time, like I don’t know most of the shit you guys use or do around here, I barely know how these machines work,” he gestured frustratedly at the washer and dryer, “and I made a mistake. I’m sorry, I’ll replace whatever I ruined, I don’t care-”

“Yeah, okay, but you said that I’m not easy to live with either, so what’s your point?” You asked impatiently.

“My point is, I know I haven’t made this easy, but at least...” he said sternly, but then hesitated for a brief moment, “At least I don’t walk around in the smallest shorts known to man and wave my ass in your face every time I walk into the gym or into training. Do you know how hard that is? To not get hard every single time you look at a person? No, of course you don’t, because you’re not a guy, and either way you don’t even look at me unless it’s to get on my case about something, so-”

“Wait, what?” you said in shock, fighting back an embarrassed laugh, “is that what this has all been about?”

“All of what,” he asked, dropping his shoulders again, growing sheepish.

“Avoiding me, being mean to me, hating me, all that? Because of my ass? You could’ve just told me to put some other pants on...”

You couldn’t help but laugh, but you were hoping that your cheeks wouldn’t flush and that he wouldn’t be able to tell that you were actually really flattered, and that you were suddenly starting to notice some feelings for the soldier that you may have subconsciously suppressed until now.

“It’s not just about the shorts, though,” he said quietly, glancing to the floor, “Yeah, you’re insanely hot, and everyone here knows it, which makes me jealous, even though I know I don’t have a right to be, but, still… you’re so hot, but you’re not just hot. You’re smart, and you’re funny, and you’re pretty much the best part about living here, like everyone loves you and you’re so important to the team and you’re just… you’re great. And I hate it. I don’t hate you, I hate the things I think about you when I see you… the things I want to do to you… the feelings I have that I can’t ignore when I’m in a room with you… It all started the day you moved in here and I thought maybe it would all go away if I just avoided you or ignored you, but it just gets worse every time I see you.”

You stood there quietly, watching him as he watched the floor. You didn't know what to say, but what you did know was that your stomach was flooded with butterflies and that you had clearly been misreading his behavior and suppressing your own emotions because of it.

After nearly a minute had passed, he still hadn’t looked up at you or said anything else. You knew what you wanted to say, what you wanted to do, but you were so nervous you were practically shaking. But you took a deep, quiet breath and decided to just go for it.

You closed the distance between the two of you, and stood in front of him. Before he could say anything or react, you leaned up until your lips just barely brushed against his cheek.

“I do look at you,” you whispered teasingly, “and you’d know that if you didn’t avoid me.”

You placed a soft, slow kiss on his cheek. Then you gently pulled the red henley from his hands and walked away, back towards the washer and dryer.

He didn’t say anything as you opened the dryer and tossed his shirt in, or as you bent over the washer to pull out the rest of your shorts and towels to throw them into the dryer as well. But when you stood back up, you suddenly felt Bucky standing right behind you. You felt him rest his hands softly on your waist as he moved even closer to you.

“What are you doing,” he whispered into your shoulder as his hands slid down to your hips.

“Finishing the laundry,” you said quietly, a smirk teasing your lips that he couldn’t see.

He squeezed your hips gently and chuckled lowly into your shoulder. You put your hands on the edge of the dryer to support yourself, trying not to shudder as he trailed soft kisses up the side of your neck.

“I meant,” he breathed into your ear, “what are you doing to me.”

You bit your lip and moved your hips just slightly, so that your ass pressed against him. You relished in the way he tightened his grip on your hips and the nearly inaudible growl that escaped from his throat.

“Nothing,” you whispered teasingly, “yet.”

In an instant, Bucky had spun you around to face him and lifted you up by your hips so you were sitting on top of the dryer. He took half a second to look at you, and as you looked back at him with a shy smirk, he pulled you to the edge of the dryer, nestled himself between your legs, and captured your lips with his, all in one swift movement.

You were barely aware of your own actions, all of your focus going to the butterflies in your stomach and the way his lips felt on yours, but soon you found yourself pulling at the shirt on his chest with one hand while your other hand snaked up into his hair. Both of his hands trailed your body, from your waist, down to your thighs, and back to your hips to pull you even closer to him. You bit his bottom lip softly and smirked when he tightened his grip on your hips again.

“Sheesh, get a room,” Sam called from the hallway as he passed by, chuckling.

You jumped, surprised by the brief but sudden interruption, and then giggled when you processed what had been said and who had said it. Bucky, on the other hand, found Sam’s comment more annoying than entertaining, as he often did with anything Sam said. He dropped his head onto your shoulder and groaned, gripping your thighs. You were still giggling, half out of embarrassment and half out of sheer happiness, and despite his frustration, Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle lowly with you.

You tried your best to regain your composure, pulling him closer by his shirt so he would know you weren’t done yet, even though you still couldn’t stop giggling. But as he bit softly at your shoulder and trailed kisses along your collarbone and up the side of your neck at an agonizingly slow pace, you sunk back into the moment and your giggles turned into hushed moans.

He continued torturing you, planting soft kisses along your skin, chuckling lowly as you leaned further into each kiss. He placed the last one just beneath your ear, and then brushed his lips against your ear as he whispered…

“Your room or mine?”

TAGGED: @totheendofthelinepal @locke-writes @rogersxbarnesx @bbbarneswrites @harley-dent @sebbytrash @i-less-than-three-you @aenna-4 @litterally-trash @belleetlabeast @stormy-thomas @becausefanfictionthough @sebaestans @fab-notfat @shieldagentofthemonth @spnfandommademeamoose @hellomissmabel @lovely-geek @allinhishands @majestic-squad @happelu970 @7minutes-tomidnight @-supernatural-coffee-llama @angel34jolly-blog @feelmyroarrrr @dearthofequanimity @lbouvet @takemetothefictionalworld @thesmolbear @avengerofyourheart @laurenwhitehouse-blog @beccaanne814-blog @melonberri @lostinspace33 @fangirl1029 @ryverpenrad @angryschnauzer @lovelyladylilac @bellenuit45 @knittingknerdy @the-real-tony-stank @castielohcastiel @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @eyeofdionysus @buckyhawk @oinchavengewho @whatsbetterthanfantasy @diving-down-to-wonderland @ianbewiild @pixierox101 @marvel-ous-fics @devilstrip @girl-next-door-writes @nikkitia7 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @jaybird6232 @crownie-sr @crazychick010 @tinacuppy-blog @buckybarnesisalittleshit @fantasticallyabnormal @popsicle863 @bwozzler @bellastellaluna @sebbeanstan @divide-supermarketflowers @secondstartotheright-imagines @aesthetic-bbygoats @just-another-fangirl777 @shieldagentofthemonth @broken-pieces @its-onepiece @strawberrybucky @lovelyfuckingcunt @4theluvofall @txcountrybelle @ginasellsbooks @phasma-trash @thevanishedillusion @magnitude101999 @lady-thor-foster @power-of-god-and-anime @volcanicchoas @a-watson-in-search-of-a-sherlock @olivelongnprosper @yourwonderbelle @neeadinghugs @odinhson @dafnekeenfblog @thinkwritexpress-official @vethrvolnir2 @wildefire @heartssick @riddikulus-obsessions @cudan2 @metalarmlover @jaegers-and-kaijus @pandamambo5 @bookscoffeeandracoons @katelynkargol @stonedxsoldier

Five years. It had been five years since you had seen him, since you had heard his voice or felt his warmth in a room.

You and Bucky Barnes were never officially “a thing”. You tried to flirt with him a few dozen times but he always struggled to get the hint, and even though he asked Nat and Steve every single day if they were sure that you liked him, he never had the guts to finally ask you out. So the two of you spent months in this odd state of limbo, with each of you head-over-heels for the other but neither one wanting to be the first to come out and actually say it… until five minutes before the team left for Wakanda.

You were laying across your bed in your room at the compound, reading through the pages of a book Bucky had casually given you earlier that week (Steve had dragged him into a bookstore and while he was grumpily waiting, the cover caught his eye and something about it made him think of you, and he’d seen some books on your shelf that had similar plots. So he bought it, devoured it in one day, and then tried to play it cool by saying that Steve made him buy a book, so he picked one randomly, didn’t like it and didn’t feel like taking it back, but thought you might like it so he thought he’d give it to you instead…) when there was a soft knock on your open door. You looked up from the page to see Bucky shyly standing with one foot in the hall and one foot in your room.

“H-hey, can I come in?” He asked after clearing his throat.

He wore a soft smile but you could immediately tell by his eyes that something was wrong. You quickly dog-eared the corner of the page, closed the book, and climbed up off the bed.

“Yeah, of course,” you answered as you took a step towards him, “what’s up?”

You were wearing an old sweatshirt that you had stolen from him, and you nervously pulled at the edges of the sleeves while still holding the book with one hand. He slowly stepped closer to you with his head hung low, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand.

“We’re, uh, we’re going,” he said quietly, still avoiding your eyes by looking at his own feet.

“Who? Going where?” You weren’t sure what he was talking about and you were trying your best not to panic because of his tone.

“Sorry,” he sighed, seemingly struggling to find the right words to say, “me, Steve, Wanda, Vision, I’m not really sure who else. We’re… we’re going to Wakanda. We’re going to fight Thanos.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, and the book dropped from your hand and landed on the carpet with a soft thud. The noise caught Bucky’s attention and he quickly glanced at the book and then up at you. The briefest smile teased the edge of his lips as he noticed it was the book he gave you, but his face dropped again as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes.

Neither of you had confessed your feelings for the other, but you knew each other well enough to know what the other was feeling in any other regard, and you both knew in that moment that you we’re both terrified. Terrified of what was going to happen, terrified of all the unspoken words that hung over the two of you, and terrified that it was now too late.

You were usually the one that kept your head up while he nervously or anxiously kept his head down, so he was surprised to see you staring at your own hands as you fidgeted more with the cuffs of the sweatshirt instead of looking back at him.

He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, decidedly trying to be strong for the both of you. He blinked away his own tears, mustered up his warmest smile, and slid his hands into his pockets so you wouldn’t see that they were shaking.

“But it’s gonna’ be fine, doll. Don’t even worry about it,” his voice cracked but he hid it well, “We’ll be back as soon as it’s over. That’s why I came in here, anyway…”

You looked up at him, causing his heart to flutter and the words to catch in his throat, but he pushed through.

“I wanted to tell you we’re going to be gone for a couple of days, but I really just wanted to see if maybe you’d wanna… I don’t know… get some dinner when I get back?” He shrugged his shoulders, trying to play it cool again.

“Like, a date?” You sniffled.

“Yeah, I guess you could call it that,” he smirked nervously, “we could get some dinner, and maybe go to that bookstore you and Steve like.”

“Would Steve be joining us?” You teased in a tone that he didn’t realize was sarcastic.

“What? No! Just you and…,” the realization finally dawned on him when you started giggling, “oh, you’re joking…”

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it,” you said softly, sniffling again and trying to dry your runny nose with your sleeve. He took a step closer towards you and softly wiped away a trailing tear off your cheek with his thumb.

“So it’s a date?” he whispered softly.

The touch of his gentle hand on your cheek and the hope in his voice brought the tears back to your eyes tenfold, and you nodded quickly as you tried to hold back the fearful sobs.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he breathed as he pulled you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair, desperately trying to hold back his own tears, “I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone. I promise.”

But five years had passed, and every minute of every day since he had left, it was impossible for you not to notice that he was gone.

About a month after the snap, Steve moved you out of the compound and into your own studio apartment in Brooklyn. He furnished the place for you (he tried his best, but no amount of elbow grease and interior decorating made the place less dingy or depressing, but the same could be said for the rest of the city) and he paid the landlord for a year’s worth of rent up front. He insisted that you weren’t allowed to pay him back, but that instead you had to attend his weekly group therapy meetings.

What he hadn’t told you prior to moving you in was that he also rented the studio right next door… for himself. So you couldn’t avoid him, and if you tried to skip a meeting, he’d use his spare key and drag you out himself.

It took him another six months to convince you to wash that sweatshirt that you had been sleeping in every night (and often wore out to group therapy or to meetings at the compound), insisting that it was unhygienic. So you finally washed it, and committed to washing it at least once a month, but continued to wear it every night nonetheless.

It never got easier and you never moved on from Bucky, but you learned to get through each day and each night, still noticing he wasn’t there but knowing that you had to keep going for him and for everyone else. So when five years after the snap Steve knocked on your door and told you their plan, you felt your world begin to fall apart all over again.

“You can’t,” you insisted, angrily fidgeting with the frayed cuffs of your sweatshirt.

“We have to,” he said calmly, “we don’t have a choice.”

“Yes, you do. You had a choice not to go to Wakanda and look what happened. Now you’re going to go back in time?” You had a million doubts about this new plan and you’d already expressed every single one.

“We already tested it and it worked,” he said, calmly still.

“But what if it doesn’t work this time? What if something goes wrong? Everyone lost in that battle, but I don’t need to remind you what you and I both lost that day, Stevey.”

Your voice was quiet, but the words weighed on him like a ton of bricks. His gaze dropped to the floor and he chewed his lip.

“I can’t lose you too,” you continued shakily, “you’re all I have left.”

He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and met your gaze firmly. You already knew he’d made up his mind, but you now knew you had no choice but to comply. 

“You know that I love you,” he said steadily, “and I swore to Buck that I’d always take care of you. But I’m not him and I’ll never be him, and if we’re both honest with ourselves, neither you or I will ever feel whole again if he’s not here. If there’s a chance I can bring him back, if there’s a chance I can bring everyone back, I have to take it. This isn’t about winning, this isn’t about saving the world, this isn’t about the shield or the stones or the universe. This isn’t a choice. There is no other option. I have to do this.”

You were a safe distance from the compound, much too far to see anything from your window or rooftop, but you could still feel the rumblings of the war as it waged on.

You tossed and turned in your bed long after the tremors had ended and the stillness had settled, checking your phone every few minutes to see if Steve had returned any of your thirty calls or text messages.

You refused to get your hopes up and believe that the plan could have actually worked. No matter the outcome, your only concern right now was that Steve was okay, along with anyone else who was involved in the plan.

As you drifted in and out of restless sleep, you thought and dreamed about every little moment and memory of the last five and a half years, of all the butterflies that Bucky gave you and all the times Steve took care of you in his absence.

Your eyes snapped open when you heard an all-too familiar sequence of soft knocks on your front door- even though Steve had several spare keys, he always knocked, and he came up with a special knock so you’d always know it was him.

You quickly untangled yourself from your sheets and rushed to the door, glancing at your window to see it was still late in the night. You hastily unlocked both deadbolts and the door knob and then yanked the door open. It took you less than a second to see that Steve was filthy and bruised, but alive and in one piece. Without hesitation, you lunged out into the hallway and buried your face into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist.

“Holy shit,” you stammered with your face smooshed in his chest as you squeezed him tighter, “holy shit, Stevey, you’re alive.”

“Language,” he chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and hugged you, “but yeah, I’m alive.”

“I can’t believe your alive,” you said, the tears from your eyes soaking into his already damp shirt, “I thought you were a goner.”

“Me too, bud,” he whispered into your hair, “me too. But, hey…”

He tried to step back from you but you were squeezing too tightly, so he put his hands on your shoulders and gently pushed you off of him. You looked up at him with a furrowed brow, not wanting to let him go after thinking you’d never see him again.

With his hands still on your shoulders, he smiled softly at you, tears welling up in his own eyes. There was a whole world of pain and anguish in his eyes, and you knew then that things hadn’t gone to plan and that something awful had happened. But his smile didn’t falter, and he gave your shoulders a soft squeeze before letting them go. He stood up straight, squaring his shoulders, and then stepped away to the side.

Your eyes had followed him, until you realized why he had moved aside… until you saw who had been standing behind him…

“Hey, doll.”

Steam rolled out from beneath the bathroom door while Bucky took a much-needed shower. You sat on the edge of your bed with a mug of hot tea in your hands, while Steve stood just a few feet away leaning back against your kitchen counter.

“I can’t believe it...” you whispered somberly.

Steve had just told you everything that had happened, and while you were overwhelmingly relieved that Thanos had been defeated and the war had been won (and, of course, Bucky was back,) you never thought it would be at such a grave cost.

A silence settled between the two of you- there was nothing else either of you could say that you both didn’t already know and feel. You finished off your tea and then climbed off the bed and walked over to the sink to rinse out the mug. You and Steve stood shoulder to shoulder, him still with his back to the counter and you facing the sink.

You turned off the tap and dried off the mug, and then rested your hands on the rim of the sink, gazing tiredly out the window.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

Steve chuckled softly. “For what?”

“Everything… these past few years, being here, not dying, bringing him back,” you fought off tears as you quietly went down the list, “just, everything.”

You glanced over at him with a thankful smile. His arms were folded across his chest and his head was hung low, but he glanced back at you and smiled softly.

“I’m just glad it’s over,” he sighed,” but you know I’d do it all again if I had to.”

“Please don’t,” you joked, ruining the sincerity of the moment and causing you both to laugh.

While you were still laughing, Steve stood up straight and cleared his throat, drawing your attention. You turned and followed his gaze to see Bucky standing in the bathroom doorway in a clean set of clothes with his wet hair messily framing his face. You quickly turned to face him, and all the butterflies came flooding back.

“Hey, Buck’,” you said softly, a nervous smile teasing your lips.

Though he gave you a soft smirk, Bucky looked uncomfortable and hesitated to say anything. Steve pushed away from the counter and quickly cleared his throat again.

“I think I’m going to go take a shower myself and try to get some sleep… give you two some time to catch up…”

Before he headed for the door, he turned back to you.

“Do you need anything?” he asked gently.

“I’m okay, Stevey,” you said, “get some rest.”

He nodded, gave you both a tired but sincere smirk, and then headed out the door. You and Bucky both watched as the door closed behind Steve, and once it had clicked shut, your gazes found each other again.

Bucky’s eyes lit up as soon as they met yours, but then he dropped his gaze to the floor and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“So… Stevey, huh?,” he asked quietly, and your shoulders fell as you understood the deeper implication of the question.

“Buck’-,” you whispered as you took a step towards him.

“No, it’s fine… I’m not mad. I can’t be,” he said sadly, “I wasn’t here, and he was, so-”

“Buck’, just listen,” you interjected, causing him to look up at you nervously, “it’s not like that. It was never like that. Stevey… Steve and I care about each other. And he’s been here for me and taken care of me all this time, but he did it for you, because he knew that’s what you would’ve wanted…”

“Yeah... he was right,” Bucky whispered.

“But that’s all. I can’t lie and say we don’t care about each other… for a while we were all each other had,” you continued, “But nothing happened. We both agreed it couldn’t… not if there was any chance you were still alive somewhere.”

Bucky dropped his gaze to the floor again, nodding in understanding as he chewed his lip.

“I never should’ve gone. I should’ve stayed here,” he mumbled, “with you.”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything,” you said solemnly, “Thanos still would’ve snapped and you still would’ve disappeared.”

“Yeah,” he continued mumbling, “but I might’ve kissed you first.”

His gaze was still trained on the floor, so he didn’t see the smirk that teased your lips as the butterflies flooded your stomach again.

“Well,” you whispered bravely, “you’re here now…”

Bucky’s eyes shot up at you and a nervous smile teased the corners of his lips. He took a hesitant step towards you, his eyes lighting up as he did so.

“Can I?” He asked.

You nodded with an excited smirk and before you could blink he had closed the distance between the two of you, his body pressing against yours and practically pinning you to the kitchen counter. He gently caressed your face and paused to really look at you, trailing a gentle thumb along your cheek. As his eyes traced the features of your face, he chuckled softly.

“What?” you asked with a smirk and a knitted brow.

“I’ve just been waiting for this moment for a long time,” he whispered.

“Tell me about it, I’ve thought about it every day for the last five years,” you teased.

“That’s it?” he smirked, inching closer to your face until you could feel his breath on your lips, “Try seven.”

“Then kiss me already-”

Before you could finish your statement he closed the distance and planted his lips on yours. His hand moved and tangled into the hair at the nape of your neck while his other hand trailed down to your hip, both pulling you closer to him.

Neither of you heard the front door click open, or the awkward shuffling footsteps moving across the floor, so you both jumped when Steve cleared his throat.

You both pulled away from each other just enough to look at Steve, who was standing close by but looking distractedly at the counter, avoiding eye contact with both of you.

“I, uh, forgot my keys,” he mumbled, awkwardly reaching behind you to retrieve his keys from the counter. As soon as he had the keys in hand, he rushed off for the door.

“Have fun,” he called teasingly from the hallway before shutting the door and locking it with his spare key.

You and Bucky both chuckled in embarrassment but quickly found yourselves pulling each other closer again. Bucky smirked and got close enough that his lips ghosted yours as he spoke.

“Where were we…”

TAGGED: @totheendofthelinepal @locke-writes @rogersxbarnesx @bbbarneswrites @harley-dent @sebbytrash @i-less-than-three-you @aenna-4 @litterally-trash @belleetlabeast @stormy-thomas @becausefanfictionthough @sebaestans @fab-notfat @shieldagentofthemonth @spnfandommademeamoose @hellomissmabel @lovely-geek @allinhishands @majestic-squad @happelu970 @7minutes-tomidnight @-supernatural-coffee-llama @angel34jolly-blog @feelmyroarrrr @dearthofequanimity @lbouvet @takemetothefictionalworld @thesmolbear @avengerofyourheart @laurenwhitehouse-blog @beccaanne814-blog @melonberri @lostinspace33 @fangirl1029 @ryverpenrad @angryschnauzer @lovelyladylilac @bellenuit45 @knittingknerdy @the-real-tony-stank @castielohcastiel @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @eyeofdionysus @buckyhawk @oinchavengewho @whatsbetterthanfantasy @diving-down-to-wonderland @ianbewiild @pixierox101 @marvel-ous-fics @devilstrip @girl-next-door-writes @nikkitia7 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @jaybird6232 @crownie-sr @crazychick010 @tinacuppy-blog @buckybarnesisalittleshit @fantasticallyabnormal @popsicle863 @bwozzler @bellastellaluna @sebbeanstan @divide-supermarketflowers @secondstartotheright-imagines @aesthetic-bbygoats @just-another-fangirl777 @shieldagentofthemonth @broken-pieces @its-onepiece @strawberrybucky @lovelyfuckingcunt @4theluvofall @txcountrybelle @ginasellsbooks @phasma-trash @thevanishedillusion @magnitude101999 @lady-thor-foster @power-of-god-and-anime @volcanicchoas @a-watson-in-search-of-a-sherlock @olivelongnprosper @yourwonderbelle @neeadinghugs @odinhson @dafnekeenfblog @thinkwritexpress-official @vethrvolnir2 @wildefire @heartssick @riddikulus-obsessions @cudan2 @metalarmlover @jaegers-and-kaijus @pandamambo5 @bookscoffeeandracoons @katelynkargol @stonedxsoldier

You woke up from a deep slumber to the sound of your bedroom door shutting softly with a click. You rolled over and lazily untangled yourself from the satin sheets, making room beneath them in the middle of the massive bed.

The room remained dark, and you faintly registered the sounds of clothes hitting the floor and the quite groans over post-mission aches. The bed shifted as Tony settled in beside you, pulling some of the sheets and blankets over him.

Instinctively you pulled yourself over him, straddling his lap and nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck. Your hands traveled to his bare chest, running soft, warm trails down to the sides of his rib cage.

Most nights, especially after missions, the two of you would gravitate to this position. He’d wrap his arms tightly around your torso, pulling you as close to him as humanly possible. Hands would travel until lips would meet, and the night would end with you tangled up in each other, damp with sweat but relieved of every ounce of tension.

This night was different, though. He kept one hand gripping the sheet beside him, while the other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. He was tense beneath you, and his breathing was uneven and stressed, and you immediately took notice.

You trailed soft kisses against his jaw line and down the side of his neck, moving one hand to loosen his grip on the sheet so you could bring his hand to your hip. When his fingers found their place hesitantly on your skin, he shuddered out a deep breath.

“Talk to me,” you whispered, placing the softest kisses to the stubble on his cheek.

“Peter got hurt tonight,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of the words, “he said it didn’t hurt that bad, but I know it did. I’ve been there, I know how it feels, and I put him in that position. It’s all my fault. I’m going to get him killed.”

He broke down with every word, his fingers unconsciously digging harshly into your hip as he held back a sob. You pulled the hand that he kept near his face and kissed his palm delicately before moving it to your other hip. Your face hovered over his, your hair cascading around him on his pillow.

“Give the kid credit, Tony, he’s tougher than you think,” you whispered, “and he’s not dead, so he’s going to be okay.”

Tony kept his eyes shut tightly, still fighting back tears.

“Tony, look at me,” you pleaded softly, nudging his nose delicately with yours.

He slowly opened his eyes and looked up at yours, small tears escaping out between his thick lashes.

“It’s not your fault, it’s the fault of the assholes you were out there fighting. You’re one of the good guys, Tony. Remember that,” you insisted, “Peter would go to the end of the world for you, because he knows you’d do the same for him. We all would. I have, and I’d do it a thousand times again.”

“But what if I can’t stop them? What if I lose him? What if I lose you?” he said through tears, his voice barely louder than a breath, “I can’t lose you…”

“If you lost me or Peter or anyone else, it’d only be because the earth needed saving and that was the only way. But you’re her greatest defender, and she needs you. She’s always going to need you. We’re always going to need you. I’m always going to need you. The only way you’d fail us or lose us is by blaming yourself for something that was necessary.”

“I just can’t lose you, baby,” Tony muttered. His wet eyes held yours while his hands slowly traveled up your sides. When they reached the base of your ribcage, he moved one hand to your face, caressing your jaw softly and trailing his thumb across your bottom lip. The other hand moved along your back, gently pushing you against him, “I can’t lose you.”

Without another breath he ran his hand up into your hair and pulled you to him, crashing his lips into yours. You immediately sunk into his arms, kissing him passionately with every ounce of love you had for him. Without an inch of your body separating from his, he flipped you both over so you were on your back with him hovering over you.

You ran one hand through his hair and used the other to scratch along his shoulder blade, encouraging him closer as he ravished your neck with needy kisses. In minutes he was nudging your legs apart with his knee and pushing the band of his boxers down his hips. He rested on one elbow propped on the pillow beside your head, tangling that hand in your hair near your forehead while he used the other hand to stroke himself. Seconds later he settled between your legs, pulled your panties aside, and sunk into you with a low and desperate moan.

He gave you a moment to adjust to his size, as you normally had to when it’d been a few days since you’d had him. He settled himself gently over top of you, resting both arms beneath yours while you wrapped your arms around his neck. He kissed up your jawline to your lips, and then melted his lips to yours in a slow, tender kiss.

“I’m never letting you go,” he whispered against your lips as he began to slowly move in and out of you, relishing every moan and quiver he elicited from you.

He tended to your every need tenderly and graciously, always finding more enjoyment in your pleasure than his own. But as soon as he knew you were more than satisfied, he wasted no time in finding his own release. He collapsed on top of you, damp with sweat but relieved of every tension. His breath slowed to a steady pace and his shoulders were slouched and relaxed against you.

He shifted until his head was resting on your chest, and you lazily played with his hair as your eyes fluttered shut, ready to sink into a peaceful sleep with him. But just before he gave himself over to the much needed slumber, he listened to your heartbeat and knew that there was nothing in this world that he would ever let take you away from him.

MASTERLIST

TAGGED: @totheendofthelinepal @locke-writes @rogersxbarnesx @bbbarneswrites @harley-dent @sebbytrash @i-less-than-three-you @aenna-4 @litterally-trash @belleetlabeast @stormy-thomas @becausefanfictionthough @sebaestans @fab-notfat @shieldagentofthemonth @spnfandommademeamoose @hellomissmabel @lovely-geek @allinhishands @majestic-squad @happelu970 @7minutes-tomidnight @-supernatural-coffee-llama @angel34jolly-blog @feelmyroarrrr @dearthofequanimity @lbouvet @takemetothefictionalworld @thesmolbear @avengerofyourheart @laurenwhitehouse-blog @beccaanne814-blog @melonberri @lostinspace33 @fangirl1029 @ryverpenrad @angryschnauzer @lovelyladylilac @bellenuit45 @knittingknerdy @the-real-tony-stank @castielohcastiel @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @eyeofdionysus @buckyhawk @oinchavengewho @whatsbetterthanfantasy @diving-down-to-wonderland @ianbewiild @pixierox101 @marvel-ous-fics @devilstrip @girl-next-door-writes @nikkitia7 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @jaybird6232 @crownie-sr @crazychick010 @tinacuppy @buckybarnesisalittleshit @fantasticallyabnormal @popsicle863 @bwozzler @bellastellaluna @sebbeanstan @divide-supermarketflowers @secondstartotheright-imagines @aesthetic-bbygoats @just-another-fangirl777 @shieldagentofthemonth @broken-pieces @its-onepiece @little-lord @strawberrybucky @lovelyfuckingcunt @4theluvofall @txcountrybelle @ginasellsbooks @phasma-trash @thevanishedillusion @magnitude101999 @lady-thor-foster @power-of-god-and-anime @volcanicchoas @a-watson-in-search-of-a-sherlock @olivelongnprosper @yourwonderbelle @neeadinghugs @odinhson @dafnekeenfblog @thinkwritexpress-official @vethrvolnir @wildefire @heartssick @riddikulus-obsessions @cudan2 @metalarmlover @jaegers-and-kaijus @pandamambo5 @bookscoffeeandracoons @katelynkargol @stonedxsoldier

“Uh, I gotta go, um, check some emails.”

You had joined Tony, who had just recently confessed his feelings for you, and some of the Avengers in the common room for a late night movie. You had initially taken a seat in one of the arm chairs, but before the film had started, Tony had pulled you over to the couch to sit beside him.

He had grabbed one of the throw blankets and laid it across the two of you as he pulled you cozily into his side. He rested his arm on the back of the couch and lazily played with your hair, gently massaging your scalp with his finger tips.

Peter sat on the floor in front of the couch on the other side of Tony’s legs, eyes glued to the action film the entire time. Bucky, Steve, and Sam each took up a sofa sack towards the front of the room, while Wanda curled up in one of the arm chairs.

The room was dark, lit only by the light of the flat screen TV, and the two of you had the couch to yourselves. Halfway through the film, Tony had grown completely bored of the movie and had turned all of his attention to you. He had moved his hand to your shoulder, his thumb softly rubbing the small bit of exposed skin of your collarbone, and placed soft, quiet kisses to your head.

“Come here,” he whispered in your ear, so soft that only you could hear. He nudged you with his nose, encouraging him to look at you. With every touch of his fingertips and every soft kiss he had pressed on you, the butterflies in your stomach had fluttered, but when you finally turned your face towards him they burst into full flight.

A sweet smirk teased the edges of his mouth as he bit his bottom lip, and his gaze danced between your eyes and your lips. In the weeks that had passed since he’d admitted that he liked you, the two of you had only kissed briefly a few times, as you hardly had the time to be alone between jobs and missions.

He leaned in and kissed you, softly at first to test the waters. But soon, he lost himself in it, and was instinctively pulling you closer to him while the kiss built in passion. You followed your own desires and sunk into the kiss, and within minutes you the two of you were making out with you halfway in his lap while the rest of the room was entirely oblivious to anything but the movie.

All at once you became equally aware of how pleasantly your body was reacting to his touch and how you actually had no idea what you were doing, and the knowledge of the latter fact echoed in your head, causing every nervous fiber in your body to freeze. You immediately broke the kiss, and fell back into the couch and off of his lap.

“Uh, I gotta go, um, check some emails,” you murmured as you tossed the blanket off your lap and clumsily jumped up off the couch to rush to your room.

You closed the door behind you and immediately threw yourself face first onto the bed, burying your face in your pillow. You let out a long, muffled groan and internally cursed yourself for panicking.

All you wanted was to kiss Tony. Everytime you looked at him, all you wanted was him. Even before he had confessed his feelings for you, all you thought about was him, and you spent all your time imagining what it would be like for him to like you, to hold you, to kiss you, to…

You lifted your head up out of the pillow when there was a soft knock at your door.

“Please don’t be Tony, please don’t be Tony, please don’t be Tony,” you whispered to yourself as you approached the door.

You’d spent months wondering what would happen, what you would do if he ever showed up at your door, but now you had probably ruined any chance of it being anything good, and he was the last person you wanted to face.

“Tony,” you said awkwardly with a half-forced smile when you found him on the other side of your door.

“What did I do wrong?” he asked immediately.

“What? Oh, nothing! I just- emails, you know?” You stammered with a forced laugh, embarrassed that he was blaming himself for your trepidation.

“No, I don’t know, babe,” he said, “You’re notorious for staying on top of your work, so you wouldn’t be behind on your emails, and who would be emailing you at midnight on a Saturday? I did something wrong. What did I do wrong?”

Babe. He called you ‘babe’. He had called you ‘beautiful’ on occasion when he was flirting with you when you first joined the team, but by his reputation you knew you certainly weren’t the first, and aside from that he had only ever called you by your name, which still sounded sweet enough on his lips. But ‘babe’... that made your heart skip a beat.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise,” you sighed as you walked away from the door frame and leaned back against your desk. You stared at your feet and chewed on your lip, trying to find the words to explain how you felt.

You heard the door click shut, and soon Tony stood in front of you with his arms crossed. He nudged your foot with his to get you to look up at him.

“What is it, then? If you don’t like me, I get it. I won’t blame you,” he said softly, “Just tell me so I don’t get my hopes up.”

“No!” you nearly shouted, terrified that he’d think you were anything less than head-over-heels for him, “I like you! A lot!”

“Then what is it?” he pleaded, taking a step closer to you.

“This is my first…” you sighed, struggling to find the right word, not knowing if relationship was exactly what it was yet, as you hadn’t exactly become ‘official’.

“Oh! Shit! I had no idea, I’m so sorry,” he said, his eyes wide with surprise and regret, “that wasn’t at all what I was trying to do back there- I mean, that would’ve been great if it turned into that- but that wasn’t my intention! I just really wanted to kiss you. I really like kissing you. But I’m sorry if you felt like you had to- we don’t have to do that if you’re not ready! We can wait, or not do it at all, or whatever you want! Really, I-”

“Tony!” you interrupted, the flush of your cheeks turning as red as his Iron Man suit, “that’s not what I meant! I mean, that’s part of it, but that’s not specifically what I meant.”

He took a tiny step back, his brow knitting in confusion. “You’re losing me here, babe. What do you mean?”

You took a deep breath and organized the words in your head before stating them, wanting to finally be as honest and as clear as possible.

“I’ve never been in a relationship.”

You saw his expression change and his eyes widen again as he took in the words you said and finally understood what you meant.

“Ohhh,” he said, “wait, really?”

“Yep.”

“But… how?” he said, tilting his head as confusion washed over him again, “You’re gorgeous, you’re brilliant, you’re funny…”

“I don’t know, I just… never really had the time, and when I did have the time, if I even found someone I actually I liked, I didn’t have the confidence to try. I’ve kissed like, three guys, but they weren’t real kisses. One was during the only round of spin the bottle I ever played in high school, one was when I was drunk on my 21st birthday, and one was to get out of a dodgy situation on a mission.”

“But you do like me?” he asked curiously.

“Yes,” you insisted, “a lot.”

“So, if you like me, and you know I like you too- so much, by the way, so so much- then what’s the issue here?”

You dropped your gaze to your feet again, afraid of being so vulnerable with someone for the first time, especially with someone whos reputation makes your insecurities that much harder to ignore.

“I… I just get nervous,” you whispered, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to be flirty or sexy or intimate. This is all new to me. Even just making out with you is new to me. I’m just terrified of doing something stupid or wrong or just messing up, especially with someone like you.”

“Like me?” he whispered, hesitantly taking another tiny step closer to you.

“Someone with your reputation. Your… experience,” you sighed, “I can’t match up to that.”

He let out a quiet laugh as he uncrossed his arms and delicately placed his hands on your hips, closing most of the distance that was left between the two of you. You looked up at him, hoping that the tears that threatened to break the surface didn’t show, but the soft smile on his lips warmed your frozen nerves.

“First off, I don’t want you to flirt with me. I want you to be yourself with me. Secondly, you are the sexiest woman I have ever laid eyes on,” he smirked, “and did I mention mention that you’re gorgeous? And brilliant? And funny? I know I have a reputation, I know that. But the moment I met you, I wished that I could take all of that back, because I realized that all of my time had been wasted. None of them compared to you, babe. Not a damn one. I just want you, babe, in whatever ways you’ll have me.”

As hard as you had fought against them, a few tears managed to escape and roll down your cheeks, but instead of insecurity, these were out of relief. You let out a laugh as you wiped them away, and then confidently wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Okay,” you sniffled.

“Okay?” he grinned, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m wanna try,” you smiled, “I’m not promising I won’t get nervous, and I’m not saying I don’t want to take it slow, but I do want to try. And I want you... in a few different ways…”

“Really,” he cooed, giving your hips a soft squeeze as he relished in how effortlessly you made him feel like the luckiest man alive, “and what ways are those, exactly?”

“Well, for starters…”

You mustered every ounce of confidence you could find in yourself, and then leaned up and kissed him. Slowly, but surely, and without pulling back. Your fingers toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck as he sunk into the kiss, moaning quietly against your lips.

Just as your hands began to wander down to his chest and one of his hands traveled down to softly grab your ass, he let out a heavy exhale as he broke the kiss.

“Slow,” he stated with a smirk, more as a reminder to himself than to you, “How about this. You get some sleep, and then you and I are going to spend the day together. We’ll go do all of the cheesy, cliche couple-y things. I’m going to give you the full boyfriend experience.”

“So is that what you are?” You teased.

“Well I certainly hope so…” he said, feigning offense that you’d think otherwise, earning a giggle out of you.

“So, tomorrow?” You confirmed.

“Tomorrow.”

He placed a quick kiss to your lips and then one to the tip of your nose, and then turned and headed for the door. You followed him and held it open for him.

“Wait,” he said, turning on his heel just after he stepped into the hallway, “you said you kissed someone on a mission. Who?”

“Uhhh, don’t worry about it,” you giggled, quickly shutting the door in his face and locking it. You leaned your back against the door for a second with an uncontrollable smile on your face and a new-found confidence in your new relationship.

And just when you were about to walk away and head to bed, you could’ve sworn you heard Tony grumble “I swear to god, if it was Steve…” as he walked away, throwing you into a whole new state of panic.

MASTERLIST

TAGGED: @totheendofthelinepal @locke-writes @rogersxbarnesx @bbbarneswrites @harley-dent @sebbytrash @i-less-than-three-you @aenna-4 @litterally-trash @belleetlabeast @stormy-thomas @becausefanfictionthough @sebaestans @fab-notfat @shieldagentofthemonth @spnfandommademeamoose @hellomissmabel @lovely-geek @allinhishands @majestic-squad @happelu970 @7minutes-tomidnight @-supernatural-coffee-llama @angel34jolly-blog @feelmyroarrrr @dearthofequanimity @lbouvet @takemetothefictionalworld @thesmolbear @avengerofyourheart @laurenwhitehouse-blog @beccaanne814-blog @melonberri @lostinspace33 @fangirl1029 @ryverpenrad @angryschnauzer @lovelyladylilac @bellenuit45 @knittingknerdy @the-real-tony-stank @castielohcastiel @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @eyeofdionysus @buckyhawk @oinchavengewho @whatsbetterthanfantasy @diving-down-to-wonderland @ianbewiild @pixierox101 @marvel-ous-fics @devilstrip @girl-next-door-writes @nikkitia7 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @jaybird6232 @crownie-sr @crazychick010 @tinacuppy @buckybarnesisalittleshit @fantasticallyabnormal @popsicle863 @bwozzler @bellastellaluna @sebbeanstan @divide-supermarketflowers @secondstartotheright-imagines @aesthetic-bbygoats @just-another-fangirl777 @shieldagentofthemonth @broken-pieces @its-onepiece @little-lord @strawberrybucky @lovelyfuckingcunt @4theluvofall @txcountrybelle @ginasellsbooks @phasma-trash @thevanishedillusion @magnitude101999 @lady-thor-foster @power-of-god-and-anime @volcanicchoas @a-watson-in-search-of-a-sherlock @olivelongnprosper @yourwonderbelle @neeadinghugs @odinhson @dafnekeenfblog @thinkwritexpress-official @vethrvolnir @wildefire @heartssick @riddikulus-obsessions @cudan2 @metalarmlover @jaegers-and-kaijus @pandamambo5 @bookscoffeeandracoons @katelynkargol @stonedxsoldier

“How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t have time,” Tony groaned as he flexed the arm of the new suit he was making, “and musical theater isn’t exactly my style.”

Natasha stood against the door frame with her arms crossed, refusing to back down. “It’s a Sunday. You can make time. All Wanda wanted for her birthday is for us to go see Wicked with her. Everyone else is getting ready and we’re going to take her to dinner beforehand.”

“I bought everyone’s tickets. Isn’t that enough?” Tony responded without taking so much as a glance away from his tools, “I’ll buy everyone’s dinner, too.”

“No, that isn’t enough. We all easily could’ve bought our own tickets, and Steve is already buying dinner. She doesn’t want your money, she wants you there. She wants one good birthday where the world isn’t falling apart, and she wants her family there. That, unfortunately, includes you. Be ready by 5 or else I’m giving the soldiers the codes to your suits.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Tony squeaked, finally dropping the screwdriver in his hand and looking at Natasha wide-eyed and actually intimidated.

“I would,” she smirked, “and just imagine how much damaged they’d cause trying to figure out how to fly those things.”

Without another word she sauntered off down the hallway, leaving Tony with little choice but to attend the dinner and the show.

Realizing how little time he actually had he rushed to shower and change into the first steamed suit and tie he laid his hands on. He someone managed to make it to the tower lobby with just a minute to spare. Everyone was waiting in the lobby for him, but was surprised that he managed to be on time.

Bucky’s gift to Wanda was a limo ride to dinner and the theatre, so Wanda, Natasha, Peter, and Pietro all climbed in gracefully, and Bucky, Steve, Clint, and Bruce all squeezed in behind them.

Dinner went well (with Tony only whispering 10 of the 30 complaints to Natasha that he wanted to make) and the food was delicious. Steve made a toast to Wanda during dessert, and then everyone loaded back into the limo to head to the theatre.

Tony had scored third row center orchestra seats for everyone through a chain of connections that he had. While everyone excitedly picked their seats, he slouched into the one beside Peter, already dreading the next three hours.

The show started, and Tony was already struggling to keep himself awake, his mind wandering to unfinished projects and undrafted ideas.

“Fellow Ozians…”

“Who is she?” Tony whispered with a gasp, sitting up suddenly on the edge of his seat.

“Let us be glad,” you sang, “Let us be grateful.”

His eyes lit up as he leaned into every word that poured off your tongue, basking in your beauty and grace. His eyes were glued to you every moment that you were on that stage, and every moment you weren’t there he anxiously waited for you to appear again.

During the intermission he stole Steve’s playbill (having already thrown his own away when they walked in the door) and immediately searched for your name. He made a note of it, intending on searching for you in every database he had in order to find you and ask you out.

When the show ended, he begged to stay behind to meet you, but the group wanted to go out for drinks and Natasha wasn’t about to let Tony make the night about him.

When he finally made it back to the tower, he searched restlessly for any chance of contacting you, but you were a surprisingly private person, so he failed to find so much as an email address. So, he decided to introduce himself in person.

He showed up Monday night with flowers in hand only to realize there wasn’t a show that evening, and went home incredibly disappointed.

Tuesday night he returned with a similar bouquet and begged a manager to let him see you, but the manager insisted that without a backstage VIP pass- which had already sold out for the entire week- he wouldn’t be allowed back to meet you.

Somehow he managed to get one of the passes on Wednesday through his connection, but you had left immediately after the show due to feeling under the weather.

He returned again on Thursday, to find you had been temporarily replaced by your standby, who was beautiful and talented but just not you.

By Friday, he was ready to give up, but decided to try one more time. He purchased a VIP pass with a front row ticket, and collected the flowers of the previous bouquets that were still alive and added them to a fresh one he purchased on his way to the theatre. He wore his sharpest suit and waited through the musical one last time, hanging onto your every word and hoping with every fiber in him that he’d get the chance to meet you.

The show ended and he rushed to the entrance to backstage. He handed the pass along with a stack of $100 bills to the guard on his way to your dressing room, stammering something about how he absolutely had to see you. The guard threatened to stop him, but having recognized him from the past few nights, seeing the flowers in his hands, and knowing just how much money he’d spent to see you over the course of that week, he was interested in seeing how this played out. So the guard kept a safe distance, giving Tony space but ready to plow him over if he proved to be an actual threat to you.

Tony stopped outside of your dressing room door. He quickly and nervously ran a hand through his hair and then down the front of his suit jacket to make sure it wasn’t wrinkled. He fluffed the bouquet to make it look as fresh as possible, and then anxiously knocked on your door.

He had a whole speech planned, intended to woo you and win your heart, but when you opened the door, he fell speechless. His jaw dropped at just how beautiful you were up close, and he could’ve sworn you could hear his heart thumping in his chest.

You were surprised, at first, to see such a handsome stranger with such a large offering of flowers in his hands at your door, but suddenly you recognized him as the man who had sat in the front section for the past few shows and was the talk of the cast all week. Rumor had spread quickly that a famous billionaire was coming to the shows just for you, but you often stayed happily oblivious of the headlines and the news, so you didn’t know who it was that they were actually talking about.

“Hi,” you beamed as the realization fell on you, and you were glad that he was as handsome as they had described, “I’m Y/N, I’ve heard you’ve come to a few shows this week. Thank you so much! I’m so sorry I haven’t been available to meet you, things just kept coming up. What’s your name again?”

You held out your hand to formally introduce yourself, but he held out the flowers to you instead, licking his lips as he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, trying to find the words to say.

“I’m in love with you,” he stammered, “I- I mean- I’m Tony Stark.”

As you flashed a flattered smile and took the flowers from his hands, his trance was somehow broken long enough to straighten out his collar and clear his throat. He tried to feign enough confidence and maintain his normally presumptuous demeanor, but when his eyes met yours again, he faltered.

“Would you have dinner with me?” he asked, his voice cracking in his nervousness.

You peaked over Tony’s shoulder to see the entire cast and crew gathered just a few feet away, not even trying to hide their ogling stares and gleeful smiles. You felt like you were in a dream, but you knew you would be absolutely foolish to pass up an opportunity like this, and something about his relentless persistence but still adorable nervousness made your heart flutter.

“I’d love that.”

MASTERLIST

TAGGED: @totheendofthelinepal @locke-writes @rogersxbarnesx @bbbarneswrites @harley-dent @sebbytrash @i-less-than-three-you @aenna-4 @litterally-trash @belleetlabeast @stormy-thomas @becausefanfictionthough @sebaestans @fab-notfat @shieldagentofthemonth @spnfandommademeamoose @hellomissmabel @lovely-geek @allinhishands @majestic-squad @happelu970 @7minutes-tomidnight @-supernatural-coffee-llama @angel34jolly-blog @feelmyroarrrr @dearthofequanimity @lbouvet @takemetothefictionalworld @thesmolbear @avengerofyourheart @laurenwhitehouse-blog @beccaanne814-blog @melonberri @lostinspace33 @fangirl1029 @ryverpenrad @angryschnauzer @lovelyladylilac @bellenuit45 @knittingknerdy @the-real-tony-stank @castielohcastiel @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @eyeofdionysus @buckyhawk @oinchavengewho @whatsbetterthanfantasy @diving-down-to-wonderland @ianbewiild @pixierox101 @marvel-ous-fics @devilstrip @girl-next-door-writes @nikkitia7 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @jaybird6232 @crownie-sr @crazychick010 @tinacuppy @buckybarnesisalittleshit @fantasticallyabnormal @popsicle863 @bwozzler @bellastellaluna @sebbeanstan @divide-supermarketflowers @secondstartotheright-imagines @aesthetic-bbygoats @just-another-fangirl777 @shieldagentofthemonth @broken-pieces @its-onepiece @little-lord @strawberrybucky @lovelyfuckingcunt @4theluvofall @txcountrybelle @ginasellsbooks @phasma-trash @thevanishedillusion @magnitude101999 @lady-thor-foster @power-of-god-and-anime @volcanicchoas @a-watson-in-search-of-a-sherlock @olivelongnprosper @yourwonderbelle @neeadinghugs @odinhson @dafnekeenfblog @thinkwritexpress-official @vethrvolnir @wildefire @heartssick @riddikulus-obsessions @cudan2 @metalarmlover @jaegers-and-kaijus @pandamambo5 @bookscoffeeandracoons @katelynkargol @stonedxsoldier

Saturday evening rolled around quickly, and you were thankful that you and Tony hadn’t crossed paths once, because it meant that you didn’t have to face your feelings for a few days. Everything was ready and in place for the night, and the event coordinator that you had hired had arrived just in time to handle anything else and to greet people while you went to your room to get ready.

Steve, who had agreed to be your date without asking further questions, arrived just a few minutes before the gala was scheduled to start and slipped into your room to keep you company while you finished getting ready.

“You look great,” he smiled warmly as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching you style your hair in the vanity mirror.

You’d actually known Steve longer than you had known Tony, just from previous PR jobs that S.H.I.E.L.D. would contract you for every now and then, and the two of you had built a close friendship over the months of working alongside each other on some of Stark’s projects for the Avengers.

“Let’s get this over with,” you sighed, as you slipped on your other heel and grabbed your clutch off the dresser.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked with a knitted brow as he stood up from the bed.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” you murmured.

“So you’re not fine right now,” he stated softly, staying planted where he stood with his hands in his pockets, “What's wrong?”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to move from that spot until you told him, so you told him everything. You told him about how Tony used to hit on you, and how you rejected it constantly because you didn’t trust him, and how you still don’t think you can trust him but you miss when he was flirting with you and not some other supermodels in his office, but you can’t help but to think about him and what it would be like if you gave him the chance or if things were different or if you would’ve said yes just once. Steve listened carefully and quietly, and waited until you were completely finished to speak.

“Honestly, I was surprise that you lasted this long. Tony is a charming guy, and he’s got everything most girls could dream of. Most people say yes the first time,” he chuckled.

“Thanks a lot,” you replied sarcastically, taking his comment as a reminder of all the women in Tony’s history, remembering exactly why you never said yes.

“Hey, I’m not saying that to make a fool out of you for finally falling for him,” he clarified, “I’m just saying it’s impressive that you lasted as long as you did. You’re smart, and you’re strong, and while everyone else falls for his money or his name, you stuck it out and got to know the real him, first. You’ve actually seen Tony working hard on the things he’s passionate about. You’ve seen the late nights and the long hours. You’ve seen Tony when he’s finally found the solution to an unsolvable problem. You’ve seen the Tony no girl takes the time to see, and if I know you like I think I know you, that’s what you’ve fallen for. And that’s nothing to be mad about.”

You thought about all the little moments, and you realized he was right. It wasn’t the money or the fame or the cars or the suits that got you- in fact, that’s what made you resist him in the first place. It was the banter and debates and brainstorming in your office or his, it was the way his eyes lit up when you praised him for getting a project done, it was the sides of Tony that he showed you when the paparazzi cameras weren’t flashing and the news cameras weren’t rolling.

But just because you fell for him doesn’t mean he fell for you- you still had to deal with the fear of being just another notch in his belt. You cleared your throat and wiped away the tear that had formed in your eye before standing up as confidently as you could.

“Do you mind if we just go ahead and go out there?,” you asked with a soft smile, appreciative of Steve’s words and company, “I just can’t keep talking about this right now, and just want to get my mind off of it.”

“Of course,” he smiled, striding to the door and holding it open for you.

You slipped out down the hall and into the main room of the penthouse to find the party already in full swing. The room was filled with many of Tony’s colleagues and business partners, as well as members of the Avengers and a few S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Music was flowing, drinks were being poured, and waiters from the catering company circled the room with trays of delicious hors d'oeuvres.

You grabbed a glass of champagne and joined Steve as he mingled with his team members and a few other individuals, and you happily dove into every conversation with anyone who would strike one up with you, thankful for the distractions.

Your evening was going better than expected, until the blonde bombshell made her entrance. You had happened to glance at the elevator right as the doors opened to reveal her, and it took less than a second for Tony to notice her too. You watched from across the room as he sauntered over to her, greeting her with a bow and a kiss to her hand. He ushered her across the room and you lost sight of them in the crowd, but you’d seen enough to know you didn’t want to see anything else.

“Can we dance?” you quickly asked Steve, grabbing another glass of champagne from a waiters tray and downing it’s contents before Steve could even respond.

“Yeah, of course.”

He knew something most have happened to upset you again when you had seemed to be having a great time, so he slipped his hand in yours and guided you onto the dance floor. Just at the music changed to something slower, he rested his hand on your hip while using the other one to hold your hand near his chest, and your free hand rested on his shoulder. You swayed together, nearly cheek to cheek, and you did your best to focus your eyes on anything but Tony.

“You know he thinks the world of you, right?”

Steve had whispered it so softly in your ear that you almost hadn’t heard him. You continued dancing, wanting to look natural and composed to anyone else, but you squeeze his shoulder just a bit, letting him know your emotions were overwhelming you again. He slid his hand from your hip to the small of your back and held you close to him to comfort you.

“He does,” he continued so only you could hear, “All he ever talks about is you. Every change he’s made, everything he’s done recently has been to be a better man for you. I know you don’t trust him, and maybe you don’t believe me, but he’s trying. He really is, because he really cares about you.”

“Did he tell you to say that,” you joked quietly, shutting your eyes to hold back the tears that threatened to bubble over again.

“Do you really think he’d tell me that?” he chuckled, “I can see him right now and he’s staring daggers at us. I’m not exactly his favorite person.”

The music transitioned into another more upbeat song, so the two of you made your way off of the dance floor and joined some friends at a little lounge area at the far side of the room once you were sure you could maintain your composure. You were mid conversation with Wanda when you heard the music begin to fade.

“Test, test,” a familiar voice came through the speakers, “Can I have everyone’s attention please?”

There was a DJ booth stationed on the loft above the kitchen, and you and everyone else in the room turned to look up at Tony, who was standing at the railing with a drink in one hand and the microphone in the other.

“I want to thank you all for coming this evening. This year, as many of you know, started off a little rough,” he paused, giving everyone a moment to laugh, “but we’ve had a great year nonetheless. This last quarter alone has been not only the most profitable for Stark Industries, but the most productive. Despite setbacks, and despite my own personal mistakes, I’ve grown and evolved in ways I never thought I’d be willing to, and this company has grown in ways I could never even dream of. I have my incredible team, colleagues, partners, and investors to thank for that. I have all of you to thank for that. So, thank you.”

You hadn’t expected him to make any sort of speech this evening, but you were pleasantly surprised by it. It was the first speech you’d heard from him that you hadn’t written for him that you were impressed by. You and the rest of the room clapped for him and for each other, assuming he was done, but as the applause died down, he cleared his throat and continued.

“But there is one person that I want to thank tonight. Someone very special to me, who I’ve had the absolute honor to get to know more recently, and who, in my opinion, is the most beautiful woman in this room tonight.”

Your stomach turned and your heart began to ache as you glanced across the room at the blonde beauty, believing that it was undeniably her that he was referring to, but your heart stopped altogether when he said your name instead.

“Y/N, there is nothing I can say to truly thank you for everything you’ve done for me and to explain how much you mean to me,” he said, looking right at you as if there was no one else in the room, “You’ve stood beside me and stood for me when no one else would, you’ve helped me lead this company in a better direction, and you’ve made me want to be a better man. You’re incredible, and there’s not a single thing I could do or would want to do without you.”

He raised his glass and the rest of the room did the same, and though your head was spinning and you could feel the blush rushing to your cheeks, you did your best to smile and give a courtesy wave to him and everyone around you.

You were glad that the party ended fairly quickly after that, because you weren’t sure your nerves could handle any more social interaction while trying to process what Steve had said and what Tony had announced to the entire damn room.

Steve waited with you until nearly everyone else was gone. As Tony went with the last few guests to wait with them down at the valet, Steve hugged you goodbye.

“He’s a good guy, Y/N, and he’s better with you. Give him a chance,” he whispered to you before leaving you at your bedroom doorway. He smiled at you from the elevator, and you felt a little bit better knowing that someone you unequivocally trusted was endorsing the person you wanted to trust but were afraid to.

When the elevator doors closed, you were left in the penthouse by yourself for the moment, so you went into your room and changed into something more comfortable. You pulled on an oversized Stark Industries hoodie and some yoga pants, and after washing your face, you relaxed on your bed for a few minutes to rest your feet.

You scrolled through your phone, looking at all the party photos that either you, Tony, or the company account had been tagged in on a few different social media platforms. There were plenty of you with Steve and other guests, and at least one photo of Tony with every person there. You regretted keeping your distance the entire party, now that you didn’t have a single photo with him from the evening. You turned off your phone and tossed it on the middle of the bed and rolled over, trying to get comfortable.

After most of Tony’s parties, no matter how formal, the penthouse had always been left in a state of disarray. This party was no exception, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep knowing it was a mess, so you climbed out of bed ready to tackle the task and get it over with.

You were surprised when you opened your bedroom door to find Tony on the other side with his hand raised as if he was about to knock.

“Oh, uh, hi,” he said shyly. The edge of his lips curled up ever so slightly as his eyes fell on your hoodie.

He hadn’t changed out of his suit but simply took off his jacket, dress shirt, and shoes, leaving him in a plain white t-shirt that was halfway tucked into his dress pants and a pair of black socks. You peeked around him to find that the penthouse was spotless, and saw a pile of full bags of trash by the elevators to be taken down.

“Did you clean? I was gonna’ do that,” you said, your brow knitting in a mixture of confusion and surprise.

“You clean up all my messes, I figured I could at least get that one,” he said quietly, “did you get enough to eat? I had the caterers leave the leftovers…”

He held up two plastic leftover containers and a handful of silverware, and as your stomach quietly grumbled you realized that you actually hadn’t eaten much at all. You took a step back and held the door open for him. He walked in slowly and apprehensively- he’d never actually been in your room since you moved in.

You closed the door and walked over to the long dresser across from your bed. You hoisted yourself up and sat on top while he set the containers beside you. He opened them up and handed you one with a fork, and then took the other one for himself. He turned so that he was standing beside you, leaning back against the dresser, and with every bite he took or move he made, his hip brushed softly against your knee. You both ate in silence for a while, staring at the plates in your hands or off at the distance in front of you.

“Did you have a good time with Steve?” Tony eventually asked, breaking the silence. He glanced over his shoulder at you as he said it, but returned his gaze to the wall across from the two of you while he waited for your answer.

“He was fine,” you stated. You took a few more bites of your food, wondering whether or not you really wanted an answer to this question, but finally asked anyways, “Who’s the blonde?”

“The who?”

“You know who I’m talking about,” you groaned, knowing he was probably just playing coy, “The tall blonde bombshell from your office who was on your arm tonight.”

“Oh, her,” Tony said casually, “you think she’s pretty?”

He had glanced over his shoulder at you again, this time with a wicked little smirk. You didn’t say anything, just took another bite of your food and avoided his gaze. You immediately regretted asking the question. You were still terrified of the answer, but now to make things worse, Tony had realized that you were jealous, which had to mean you had some sort of feelings for him. Busted.

He finished the last bite of his food and then set the plate and fork on the dresser beside him. You did the same and then placed your hands on the countertop on either side of your legs, gripping the edge to calm your nerves. He leaned back against the dresser again and gently rested his hands on either side of him, the pinky of the one closest to yours ghosting your skin softly.

“She’s an investor,” he said quietly, looking down at his socks, “A widowed investor, with enough money to secure projects and developments for the next five years, ones that you insisted we didn’t have the budget for. I laid the charm on a little thick, sure. Just to make sure she was confident in who and what she was investing in. But she knows all about you.”

“What is there to know,” you scoffed under your breath, surprised he’d bother telling someone about a relationship that didn’t exist, especially someone who looked more like his usual type.

“That I’m in love with you.”

When he had stopped flirting with you, you thought he would move on. When you found him in his office with the investor, you thought he had moved on. The whole time he had flirted with you before, you wanted him to not want you, but the moment you found out he might actually want someone else, all you wanted was to be wanted by him. Then, you find out that he still does want you, and all of your old fears and worries about him consumed you all over again.

But out of all of those thoughts and fears and exchanges, the one thing that always won out above them all was the specific fear that Tony would never love anyone, especially not you, and that you’d fall for someone who thought you were just another assistant or just another one night stand. But now, here you were, in your room in his penthouse, with him admitting to you the words you thought you’d never hear in a million years.

“You’re the best part of me,” he continued when you hadn’t responded, more quietly this time, and his voice cracked under the weight of the words, “and yet, you’re not mine.”

You inched your hand over until you were touching his, and he immediately laced his fingers into yours, squeezing tightly as if he was afraid he’d ever have to let go.

“If you don’t want this, tell me now and I’ll never ask again,” he said quickly, and though you could only see the side of his face you saw that his eyes were closed tightly, “I promise, I won’t keep doing this. But if any part of you wants this, if any part of you is willing to give me the chance to show you how much I love you and how much I want you in every part of my life, not just the parts your paid for… just one chance. That’s all I’m asking for. Just one. But if you don’t-”

“Tony,” you interrupted in a broken whisper, squeezing his hand softly.

He reeled around immediately to face you with tears welling up in his eyes, terrified of you rejecting him again but relishing in the way his name sounded coming from your lips. You kept your fingers locked in his as you slid off the edge of the dresser, standing face to face with him, leaving nearly no distance between the two of you. He pressed his forehead to yours, hoping with everything in him that your actions were a good sign.

“Just once chance,” he whispered, “please”.

You’d spent the better part of the last year weighing the pros and the cons, the fears and the certainties, the goods and the bads of Tony Stark, convincing yourself not to love the man that you had uncontrollably fell for. So instead of thinking and analyzing yet another situation, you gave in to the moment and into your feelings and into the gorgeous man in front of you, and you kissed him.

He froze, not quite expecting that sudden change from you, but as your lips melted into his he sunk into it, hands wandering your body and pulling you closer to him, pouring every ounce of love he had for you into the kiss. When the kiss finally broke, he pulled you tightly into his chest, placing soft kisses to your hair and forehead while you wrapped your arms around his waist.

“This is going to be a PR nightmare,” you giggled into his chest, realizing the change in your relationship status would quickly spread, especially after his speech that evening.

“Well it’s a good thing that I have a fantastic assistant, then,” he quipped, “and she’s pretty hot, too.”

You softly punched his shoulder at the remark but giggled as he spun you around and edged you towards the bed, trailing kisses all along any exposed flesh he could find. And as the tension that had simmered for all those months finally boiled over with every kiss and whispered “I love you”, every last fear and worry faded away.

MASTERLIST

TAGGED: @totheendofthelinepal @locke-writes @rogersxbarnesx @bbbarneswrites @harley-dent @sebbytrash @i-less-than-three-you @aenna-4 @litterally-trash @belleetlabeast @stormy-thomas @becausefanfictionthough @sebaestans @fab-notfat @shieldagentofthemonth @spnfandommademeamoose @hellomissmabel @lovely-geek @allinhishands @majestic-squad @happelu970 @7minutes-tomidnight @-supernatural-coffee-llama @angel34jolly-blog @feelmyroarrrr @dearthofequanimity @lbouvet @takemetothefictionalworld @thesmolbear @avengerofyourheart @laurenwhitehouse-blog @beccaanne814-blog @melonberri @lostinspace33 @fangirl1029 @ryverpenrad @angryschnauzer @lovelyladylilac @bellenuit45 @knittingknerdy @the-real-tony-stank @castielohcastiel @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @eyeofdionysus @buckyhawk @oinchavengewho @whatsbetterthanfantasy @diving-down-to-wonderland @ianbewiild @pixierox101 @marvel-ous-fics @devilstrip @girl-next-door-writes @nikkitia7 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @jaybird6232 @crownie-sr @crazychick010 @tinacuppy @buckybarnesisalittleshit @fantasticallyabnormal @popsicle863 @bwozzler @bellastellaluna @sebbeanstan @sebbabylion @divide-supermarketflowers @secondstartotheright-imagines @aesthetic-bbygoats @just-another-fangirl777 @shieldagentofthemonth @broken-pieces @its-onepiece @little-lord @strawberrybucky @lovelyfuckingcunt @4theluvofall @txcountrybelle @ginasellsbooks @phasma-trash @thevanishedillusion @magnitude101999 @lady-thor-foster @power-of-god-and-anime @volcanicchoas @a-watson-in-search-of-a-sherlock @olivelongnprosper @yourwonderbelle @neeadinghugs @odinhson @dafnekeen @thinkwritexpress-official @vethrvolnir @wildefire @heartssick @riddikulus-obsessions @cudan2 @metalarmlover @jaegers-and-kaijus @pandamambo5 @bookscoffeeandracoons @katelynkargol @stonedxsoldier

“You can’t just ignore me, I’m your boss.”

Tony stood with his hands on his hips and his brow knit on the other side of your desk. You could feel him staring and knew that he was seeping with impatience, but you remained unfazed as you continued to focus on the documents spread out on your desk- documents that he had forgotten to review and sign before the deadline, so you were doing it for him now.

“You could be a god and I could still ignore you,” you said curtly, flipping to the next page.

“You- I- you can’t talk to your boss like that,” he stammered, somehow still surprised at your audacious remarks to him, even after several long months of this perpetual cycle.

“So fire me,” you quipped as you closed the folder and tossed it on the desk.

You finally met his gaze and found him with his mouth ajar, finally unable to retort.

“Oh, that’s right, you can’t,” you continued, returning your eyes to the contents on your desk and opening up another file, “because you can’t run this company without me. You can barely make it through the biweekly board meeting without me. And can you imagine the headlines? Tech Empire Ceo Superhero Billionaire Playboy Philanthropist Fires Assistant Because She Wouldn’t Screw Him. Not quite the image you want, especially after your little yacht incident.”

Eight months ago, you were hired to fix the mess that Tony had made of his PR department after crashing his yacht into a cruise dock. He was sued by 13 out of the 20 supermodels that were with him, and charged for boating under the influence. Of course, he was able to buy his way out of all of it, but you really had your hands full scrubbing away all the media evidence and organizing a press tour to frame him in a slightly better light.

In two months, the event had been long forgotten by the world thanks to you and the team that you had led. At that time, he realized he could probably use a full-time assistant (manager… babysitter... ), so he offered you a position and a paygrade you couldn’t refuse. It only took three weeks after that for him to start hitting on you, and since then you’ve been doing all of the ‘boring’ parts of his work for him, while all he’s done is flirt and pester you day in and day out.

“Can we please stop bringing up the yacht thing? Everyone else has forgotten it, why can’t we?” Tony insisted, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I can forget it, but I choose not to,” you said, signing his signature across the bottom of an approval draft and then moving on to the next packet, “That event and the weeks that followed told me everything I need to know about you. Knowing those things help me do my job, the job that you hired me for.”

They also helped you protect your heart from falling for him, but you certainly weren’t going to tell him that.

“Okay, but still,” he pleaded, shoving his hands in his back pockets and leaning forward so that his waist was pressed against your desk, “and I’m not trying to screw you. You know that’s not what I’m asking…”

You signed the last document and closed the last folder, slipped the ones you needed to mail out into your bag, and clicked off the lamp on your desk, thrusting the room into a soft darkness illuminated only by the glow of the city below your office window.

“That is what you’re asking, Mr. Stark,” you stated, watching him cringe at your continuous refusal to simply call him Tony, “Maybe not right now, not this very moment, but eventually, down the line, it’s expected,” you stated as you stood from your chair but stayed behind the desk, keeping the safe distance between the two of you, “Maybe it starts with coffee, or wine, or dinner, but I’ve seen enough of your past and cleaned up enough of your messes to know that that’s what it always leads to with you. That’s always what the question means. You’ve just never had anyone tell you ‘no’.”

Without another word you walked out of the office and left him standing in the darkness without a chance to respond.

You headed down to your office early the next morning, coffee in hand and the conversation from the night before pushed completely out of your mind. You refused to develop feelings for him, so that meant that you could never linger on his offers or on the conversations that followed them. You couldn’t beat yourself up for being a little harsher than necessary, or for ignoring the way your heart would flutter just the slightest bit when he’d say your name. You wouldn’t allow yourself to be just another number on the list of people he’s slept with or another name in a headline about him.

And you’d gotten good at avoiding him, limiting the amount of times you had to see him or the amount of opportunities he had to ask you out. When you were officially hired for the full-time position, he moved you into a room in his penthouse at the top of the tower, because it made the most sense for you to be onsite whenever he needed you, and for you to be just a few floors away from the offices and labs to avoid the city traffic everyday. At first, you worried that it would be a risk at worst or awkward at best, living just down the hall from him, but most mornings you were down in your office before he was even awake, and most nights he was down in the lab or the garage tinkering away at another project, leaving you to have the penthouse to yourself until late in the evenings.

But despite the facade that you wore so well, your resolve was slowly wearing down and you found yourself letting the butterflies linger a little longer than you’d like, especially when he made little gestures that convinced you that he cared more than you were willing to believe.

Like now, when you walked into your office to find a massive bouquet of red roses sitting on the center of your desk.

You set your coffee and bag on the desk and inspected the gorgeous arrangement until you found a small gold envelope. You slipped the envelope from it’s holder and opened it up to find a handwritten note on a little white piece of paper. You knew it was Tony’s handwriting because you’d learned to imitate it, and you were surprised he’d taken the time to write this note himself.

“You’re right - I can’t do this without you. I’m sorry.”

You slid the note back into the envelope and placed it in the top drawer of your desk before moving the flowers safely to one side of your desk. Before you could even sit down, your phone rang. You fished it out of your bag and saw Tony’s name and photo lighting up your screen. It was odd for him to be up this early.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” you said professionally as you answered the phone.

“Did you get the flowers?” he asked immediately, and you could tell he was trying to hide the pride and excitement in his voice.

“I did,” you responded courteously, hoping to sound like you appreciated them without revealing just how impressed you were by them, “They’re lovely. Thank you.”

“Great! I’m in the gym, should be done in twenty. Let’s meet in an hour to discuss the project proposals that came in last week. I looked over two of them this morning that I think look promising. I’ll come to you,” he said, and before you could even process what he had said, he ended the call.

Tony was rarely out of bed at this hour, so for him to be in the gym and not complaining about it so early was shocking enough. But for him to be aware of a task that needed to be done and ahead of it before you even gave him the first reminder was unbelievable. You had braced yourself for whatever flirty comment you knew would come with those flowers, but instead he was all business.

The meeting went by as remarkably as the call did. He was as polite and as friendly as ever, but there wasn’t even a hint of flirtation or intention behind any of his words. He focused on the tasks and was prepared to ask and answer questions about the proposals, and even signed them himself without complaining. You kept waiting for a quip or an unprofessional comment, but none ever came.

You spent the rest of the day in the same state of pleasant surprise as every meeting and task went by timely and successfully, and by the end of the day you were both ahead of schedule and your to-do list was completely cleared. You had actually managed to get off work on time. You returned to your office to collect your things. You were straightening up the files on your desk for tomorrow when Tony appeared in your doorway.  

“Got any plans tonight?” he asked casually, fiddling with a Newton’s Cradle figure on your desk.

Didn’t even last a day, you thought, assuming he was asking so he could ask you out again.

“Yes, actually,” you said as you stored the last file in the organizer and grabbed your bag, “I think I’m going to go see a movie with Wanda.”

“Good! You should go have some fun,” he said with a soft smile.

Well that was unexpected.

You were too dumbfounded to really say anything, so you just stammered something similar to a “yeah” as you tried to carry both your bag and vase of flowers around your desk towards the door.

“Here, I’ll take these up for you,” Tony offered, carefully taking the bouquet from your hands, “I’ll leave them on the counter in the kitchen.

The two of you silently walked together to the two elevators at the end of the hall, and he pressed both the up and down buttons. When your elevator arrived to take you to the garage, he simply told you to have a good night. Once the elevator doors closed you leaned against the sidewall, still trying to process what in the world had happened.

You felt like you were living in some alternate universe were Tony didn’t incessantly hit on you or never got any work done. You half expected to wake up the next day and everything be back to normal, as if it was just a fluke or a weird dream, but that wasn’t the case. For the next ten weeks, Tony was a powerhouse of productivity. He was in the gym every morning before you had even made your coffee, he attended every meeting punctually, and he was constantly engaged and involved in the current projects. He was even using his own office more, for actual work and not just for storage of random project drafts.

He also hadn’t flirted with you, hit on you, or made even the slightest attempt to ask you out. It made your job a million times easier, and you actually enjoyed being able to interact with him closely without fear of overstepping professional boundaries. And while a small part of you missed the little flirty comments and the way they made you feel despite you always pretending like you loathed them, you were ultimately happy with the progress in your strictly professional relationship with Tony, and the risk of developing deeper feelings for him was long behind you.

Or so you thought, until you walked into his office to find him with a gorgeous blonde who you had never seen before.

They weren’t doing anything, just sitting across from each other on either side of Tony’s desk, but she was stunning and he was smiling, and for some reason, that bothered you.

“Sorry to interrupt, I didn’t know you were with anyone,” you said, keeping a perfect posture as you stood in the doorway, “we have a briefing meeting with the new project team in an hour and I wanted to go over the itinerary. But I’ll just email it to you-”

“Oh, no, it’s fine, I was just leaving,” the bombshell said with a dazzling smile as she rose from her chair.

Tony stood and walked around the desk to meet her, shaking her hand as they whispered exchanges through flirty smiles. Her heels clacked on the concrete floor as she sauntered past you, and you tried to bury the feeling that was bubbling up inside you. Was it… jealousy? It couldn’t be. You’d never truly envied another woman, and you didn’t have feelings for Tony. So why would you care, now?

You’d been staring at your own feet while you tried to process this and lost yourself in your train of thought until you finally registered Tony calling your name.

“Earth to Y/N,” he laughed.

“Oh, sorry. Yes?”

“The itinerary?”

He was leaning back against the front of his desk, one hand in his pocket and the other extended, waiting for you to bring him the document. You strode forward, trying to clear your head and control your expression so that you wouldn’t give yourself away, but it was easier said than done once you were close enough to him to smell his cologne.

“You smell nice,” you commented without thinking as you handed him the paper.

You saw him smirk at your compliment, but before he could respond you immediately began a run through of the meeting order, hoping you could distract him long enough that he would forget and so that you could regain your own composure.

Luckily, he seemed to let it go and you were able to push down those feelings long enough to get to the meeting and through the rest of the day. But after work you spent the whole night tossing and turning in bed, wondering just exactly why you had felt that way... why seeing him with this beautiful stranger in his office with her sitting in the seat you usually sat in would bother you so much.

You only got a few hours of sleep, but when you woke up the next morning you were determined to renounce any feelings you could have for Tony. You realized that even though he hadn’t flirted with you in over two months, you had gotten comfortable with him, and you had begun to let your own guard down- something you swore you’d never do when you took this job.

You figured that it would be easy to get back on track, especially since he had been respecting your professional relationship, and it would be even easier if he did suddenly have a girlfriend (once you could truly get over your feelings of jealousy and not just ignore them).

And it was easy, for most of that day, but only because you hadn’t seen him. He had sent you a text after the gym saying he was heading down to the lab to work out some kinks in the latest project, and you hadn’t heard from him since.

Your work flew by as you made the last minute preparations and confirmed the orders for the formal party that Tony was hosting Saturday evening. It had been scheduled months ago and you did all of the planning and made all of the orders immediately, so you only had a few small details left to finalize.

You finished your work for the day and had just made a mental note to remind Tony of the event (since it was something that had been scheduled long before he had re-invested himself in the company) when you heard a knock on your office door.

“Hey!” Tony smirked as he strut into your office. His Black Sabbath t-shirt had a small rip near his ribs and there were grease marks on his face and neck.

“What in the world have you been working on,” you laughed, taking in his disheveled appearance.

“That’s classified,” he winked.

You rolled your eyes, trying to appear once again unfazed but unable to fully ignore the butterflies that fluttered at that wink and smirk.

“Project 48,” he said, giving you an actual answer, “but that’s not important. I have a party on Saturday.”

“I know, I planned it,” you stated as you put away your last folders.

“Yes, but I- thank you, for doing that by the way-,” he said quickly and almost nervously, “but I want you to come with me.”

“I figured I was already invited, since I planned the whole event, and it’s in the penthouse which I also live in, so…” you laughed, not understanding what he meant.

“No, I want you to come with me,” he rephrased with a bit of hesitation, “as my date.”

Your world froze and your mind flooded with a thousand thoughts and questions. Why was he asking you out now after months of not even one flirtatious comment? Why wasn’t he asking the blonde from yesterday? Why are you so relieved that he’s asking you, instead? Why do you want to say yes? You have to say no, right? You have to say no.

“I can’t, I already have a date,” you blurted out before realizing that it wasn’t true at all but was simply the best way of saying ‘no’ that your mind could come up with on the spot.

“You do? Who?” he asked, clearly not expecting that answer.

“Steve.”

“Rogers? Really?”

Tony almost seemed offended at this point, but he eventually just said okay and apologized for asking. Before you could say anything else, he turned around and walked out of your office. You hung your head in your hands with your elbows on your desk, cursing yourself for all the emotions you were feeling and wondering what was worse- the fact that he asked you out for the millionth time or the fact that you denied him yet again.

You picked up your phone from off your desk and swiped across the screen to unlock it, sighing when you were greeted with the photo you had just set as your wallpaper a week before- a photo that Bruce had taken of you and Tony goofing off in the lab, each of you wearing half of one of the suits Tony had been working on.

You quickly opened the text message application to avoid looking at the picture any longer, and sent Steve a text. “Please tell me you don’t have a date for Saturday.”

MASTERLIST

TAGGED: @totheendofthelinepal @locke-writes @rogersxbarnesx @bbbarneswrites @harley-dent @sebbytrash @i-less-than-three-you @aenna-4 @litterally-trash @belleetlabeast @stormy-thomas @becausefanfictionthough @sebaestans @fab-notfat @shieldagentofthemonth @spnfandommademeamoose @hellomissmabel @lovely-geek @allinhishands @majestic-squad @happelu970 @7minutes-tomidnight @-supernatural-coffee-llama @angel34jolly-blog @feelmyroarrrr @dearthofequanimity @lbouvet @takemetothefictionalworld @thesmolbear @avengerofyourheart @laurenwhitehouse-blog @beccaanne814-blog @melonberri @lostinspace33 @fangirl1029 @ryverpenrad @angryschnauzer @lovelyladylilac @bellenuit45 @knittingknerdy @the-real-tony-stank @castielohcastiel @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @eyeofdionysus @buckyhawk @oinchavengewho @whatsbetterthanfantasy @diving-down-to-wonderland @ianbewiild @pixierox101 @marvel-ous-fics @devilstrip @girl-next-door-writes @nikkitia7 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @jaybird6232 @crownie-sr @crazychick010 @tinacuppy @buckybarnesisalittleshit @fantasticallyabnormal @popsicle863 @bwozzler @bellastellaluna @sebbeanstan @sebbabylion @divide-supermarketflowers @secondstartotheright-imagines @aesthetic-bbygoats @just-another-fangirl777 @shieldagentofthemonth @broken-pieces @its-onepiece @little-lord @strawberrybucky @lovelyfuckingcunt @4theluvofall @txcountrybelle @ginasellsbooks @phasma-trash @thevanishedillusion @magnitude101999 @rosegoldcherub @lady-thor-foster @power-of-god-and-anime @volcanicchoas @a-watson-in-search-of-a-sherlock @olivelongnprosper @yourwonderbelle @neeadinghugs @odinhson @dafnekeen @thinkwritexpress-official @vethrvolnir @wildefire @heartssick @riddikulus-obsessions @stonedxsoldier

“It's big enough for the two of us, it'll be fine,” you said quietly, trying to convince yourself just as much as you were trying to convince Steve.

You had just finished a short solo mission in Monaco, and Steve had just wrapped up a mission with Bucky and Natasha in Germany. The two lovebirds had decided to stay a while longer after their mission to spend some of their vacation time, so Hill instructed Steve to meet you at your hotel and advised that she’d send a quinjet to pick you both up the following day, instead of wasting fuel on two separate transports.

Everything was incredibly last minute so it was too late to book a room for Steve, so it was decided that he’d join you in yours for the night. The problem with that was that there was only a single king sized bed. Steve had immediately offered to sleep on the floor, but you didn't think that was fair at all. He had just finished a mission five hours before being sent to you, and you were sure he was still recovering from a few intense bruises.

His back was turned to you as he peeled off his jacket and civilian shirt, and you're eyes couldn't help but trail his shoulders and down the curves of his waist, taking in every tight muscle on display. You were enjoying the sight until your eyes took in the giant purple, red, and nearly black bruise that spread across his left side.

“What the hell happened to you?!” You hissed, stepping up behind him and running a soft finger just along the edge of the bruise. He winced beneath your touch, but relaxed when you moved your hand just below it, resting it against his hip and letting your thumb rub the skin beneath his injury, internally cursing whoever let him get bruised so badly.

Steve was your best friend. You loved him more than anyone, and liked him more than he knew. He was almost always assigned to accompany you on missions because he was the only one who knew exactly what you were going to do just before you did it, and the dynamic between you two kept both of you alive through some really deadly situations. Any time he was sent somewhere without you and came back with so much as a scratch, you felt that small pang of guilt that you could have prevented it if you would've been there.

“There were more hydra agents on the fifth floor than I expected when I went in, and Buck was still sweeping the fourth, so I ended up smoking it and jumping out of the window. Landed wrong. I'll be fine in a few days,” he chuckled, wincing again when his laughter caused the broken rib to move.

“Steve,” you whispered, and he could hear the angry concern that laced your voice like it always did when he got hurt.

“Hey, I'm fine. It’ll be healed by next weekend. I promise,” he said confidently. He had brought his right hand across his torso and laced his fingers with yours on his left side, silently thanking you for the care and comforting you in return.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment, hands interlocked with you almost against his back. You always found yourselves in these oddly intimate moments that neither of you planned, but when they happened neither of you wanted them to end. Normally, something else would interrupt and would break your quiet connections before it could turn into anything else, and this was no exception.

Your phone rang in your bag, startling both of you and slicing the tension that had started to build. You answered the call from Hill while Steve pulled on a clean t-shirt and changed out of his jeans and into a pair of navy sweats.

“The quinjet will be here at 1700 tomorrow,” you said after hanging up the phone and tossing it in your bag.

“Guess that means we get to sleep in,” he smirked, stepping away to the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. It was already nearing midnight when he had arrived at your hotel, and you had already changed into some gym shorts and one of his old t-shirts well before he had shown up. You dimmed the lights and climbed into your side of the bed, instantly settling in beneath the covers.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your head sunk into the pillow, but you were still awake enough to feel the bed shift as he settled into it beside you. You could've sworn you were practically on the edge of the bed, but somehow his shoulder still rested on your pillow and his arm brushed against you as he laid on his back.

You leaned up off the pillow, looking over him to see that he was on the edge as well, and you let out an amused laugh as you let your head fall back into the pillow.

“What?” he asked curiously, turning his head in his own pillow to look at you with a knitted brow.

“Nothing, the beds just smaller than I thought. Or your bigger,” you giggled softly, letting your eyes flutter shut again.

“Oh,” he said, almost sounding disappointed, “I can move to the floor, then.”

You felt him shift beside you to get up, but without opening your eyes or moving anything but your hand, you laced your fingers into his and tugged on his hand to make him stay.

“You’re fine,” you murmured, cuddling up to his arm and nuzzling your face into his shoulder, “you’re warm, anyways.”

He felt tense beside you, but soon he relaxed and locked his fingers in yours, his thumb trailing the top of your hand beneath the covers.

“I missed you this week,” he whispered quietly, letting his eyes close.

It wasn't something he said often to anyone, not even you, so the warm admission in the dark and quiet room caused the butterflies in your stomach to flutter and encouraged you to snuggle even closer.

“I missed you too,” you murmured sleepily, squeezing his hand before drifting to sleep beside him.

You were sleeping better than you had in months until your bladder woke you up. Your eyes fluttered open lazily and it took you a moment to gain enough consciousness to function, but once you were awake you realized you were wrapped up in Steve’s arms with your head in his chest and his leg draped over yours.

He was sleeping so peacefully, snoring softly with each slow breath. You hated to wake him, wanting him to get every minute of peace and rest he could possibly get, and you honestly couldn’t bear to leave his arms if you didn’t have to. But you had to pee, and you knew you wouldn’t fall back asleep until you did so.

You shifted slowly, trying to untangle yourself from his heavy arms and strong embrace without disturbing him, but your movement immediately woke him. He shot up off the pillow, instinctively shielding you from whatever had woken him up and, in his mind, possibly intended you harm. Though you had never shared a bed before, you had made the mistake of waking him up on more than one occasion when he overslept and quickly learned that he almost always had a PTSD reaction.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s just me,” you soothed. He was nearly hovering over you, his face hastily searching the room for a sign of any threat. You gently forced him back to his side of the bed, trying with all your strength to get him to sit back against the headboard. Without thinking, you straddled his lap and cupped his face in your hands, keeping him from continuing his search of the room. “It’s okay, it’s just me, we’re safe.”

His blue eyes, still wide with panic, searched yours until his rapid breath steadied again. You felt the labor of his chest slow, and he winced as he finally took a deep breath. His hands came to rest on your thighs, and his eyes squeezed shut as he stammered a hundred apologies.

“You’re fine, big guy,” you laughed softly, moving your hands from his face to his shoulders, “you just kind of had me pinned, and I really have to pee.”

“Sorry,” he whispered again, letting his hands fall from your thighs to the bed. He kept his eyes tightly shut as he felt you lift off of him and rush to the bathroom. You glanced at the clock on the microwave to see it was barely five in the morning, and quietly thanked the gods that you’d have a few more hours to sleep in his arms before checking out and going home.

When you returned to the room you found him sitting on the edge of his side of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees and his face in his hands. You quietly crawled back into your own side of the bed and nestled beneath the covers, and then reached over and tugged on the hem of his t-shirt.

“You okay?” you asked sleepily.

“Yeah,” he said, “I think I’m going to go for a run or something…”

His voice was quiet, but you knew him well enough to know when something was wrong. “You have a broken rib, and it’s five in the morning. You’re not going for a run. Come on,” you teased softly, tugging on his shirt again.

He sighed quietly but complied, easing himself back under the covers beside you but staying on his side of the bed and on his own pillow. You watched through the darkness as he tucked one arm beneath his head and the other across his side, keeping himself contained to his boundaries as best as possible, staring at the nothingness above him.

The two of you had never shared a bed or cuddled that closely before, mostly because he had never let the opportunity arise, always being a gentleman and making sure you had your own room on missions and trips. But after all of the previous moments of subtle touches and obvious tension, and the connection that you both constantly relied on both on and off the field, you couldn’t understand why he was suddenly acting as if the situation the two of you were in was a burden.

You rolled over onto your side facing the wall and let out a huffed sign, crossing your arms against your chest, leaving your back to him. “Check out is at three, so I’m staying in bed until two. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to. There’s a spare room key on the dresser,” you murmured before settling into the pillow and letting your eyes flutter shut.

The two of you laid in silence for what felt like hours, but no matter how hard you tried to shut off your mind and just relax, you couldn't fall asleep again. You assumed he’d fallen asleep long ago, but then he suddenly spoke.

“Are we ever going to have what they have?”

His voice was soft but intentional, and you could tell there was something on his mind that had kept him awake all this time, eating away at him until he asked that question. You rolled over slowly to face him, and found that he was still in the exact same position as when you had turned away from him, his face still trained towards the ceiling.

“Have what who has?”

You hadn’t understood the question in the slightest bit, but the way his eyes pinched shut at your response made your heart sink under the confusion. He was slow to respond, steadying his breathing and considering every word carefully before replying.

“Nat and Bucky... they’re so in love with each other. This whole week I’ve had to watch them together and all I could think about was how badly I wish that was us. I wish I could just stop in the middle of a mission and kiss you, or hold your hand or just hold you without worrying that something is going to interrupt that one small moment that I’m lucky enough to have with you. They’ve found their life with each other, they’ve found their partners and I thought I found mine but maybe it’s never going to happen. It’s never going to happen, is it? “ he stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of his own words, “something is always going to interrupt us, and I’m never going to be man enough to try anyways.”

He had tried to remain collected but as the words spilled out he couldn’t slow them down. You could see the tears escape from the paper-thin gap between his eyelids. He was winded from the pain of his rib and the weight of his admission, and while he took the chance to catch his breath you took in every word as it echoed inside your head.

You bit your lip as your own eyes started to water, knowing that the two of you had fought so hard to keep your feelings at bay in fear of risking your friendship but realizing that the pain of keeping yourselves apart was just as bad as the thought of losing each other all together. Steve had brought his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose as he fought back the tears, and you felt the slight shift of the bed as his breath caught in his throat again.

You wiped your own eyes and took a shallow breath before scooting closer to him. Wordlessly, you pulled at his arm and shoulder, pulling and coaxing until he finally gave in and rolled to face you. He kept his eyes closed tightly with one hand under his pillow, but he let his other arm fall softly across you and rested his hand on the small of your back.

You moved closer until you were pressed up against his chest and there was just a few inches between your faces. You brought a hand up and gently wiped the tears from his cheek. As you trailed your thumb across the line of his bottom lip, his eyes squeezed tighter and you felt his hand move along your back, timidly encouraging you even closer to him.

“Steve,” you breathed, and felt the smallest relief when his eyes fluttered open just enough to find yours.

“Can you try now? For me?”

The depths of his ocean eyes were filled with fear but you could see the waves of love crashing over as he searched your eyes for the comfort he always found in them. He waited for inevitable interruption, waiting for something to pull him from your arms again and to wake him from the dream that he’d had a thousand times but had never seen the end of, but the interruption never came.

He swallowed deeply, forcing down the lump of nervousness in his chest, and his eyes fluttered shut again, so you finally closed your own, too. But just when you thought he was giving up again, his trembling lips found yours.

You immediately kissed him back, and felt him close the hand on your back into a fist, tangled in the fabric of your shirt. He pulled himself closer to you, deepening the kiss and closing any last bit of distance between your bodies. When the kiss finally broke, he rested his forehead against yours. Tears were streaming down his face, and he laughed as he sobbed out a heavy sigh of relief.

Your own cheeks were wet with your own tears, and you couldn’t stop the grin on your own face as you let your head fall into his pillow and snuggled into his chest. He moved his arm from beneath his pillow and snaked it underneath you, and then wrapped both arms tightly around you, placing soft kisses to your forehead.

“I changed my mind,” he whispered, and even though he continued gracing the top of your head with the softest kisses, the statement was enough to make you push back from his chest curiously to see his face.

“You what?” You asked quickly, and he chuckled softly as he noticed your knitted brow and the look of confusion on your face.

“I changed my mind,” he stated, pausing to wipe away the tears that had remained on your skin and to kiss the tip of your nose. “I don’t want what they have.”

“Then what exactly do you want?” you asked, a nervous laugh escaping with the words, starting to wonder if the lack of sleep and all these long missions were causing him to lose his mind.

His hand rested against your check with his fingertips laced in your hair, and he brushed his thumb along your bottom lip like you had done to him earlier. The edges of his lips curled up into a warm smile that made your heart melt as he whispered, “I want what we have.”

MASTERLIST

TAGGED: @totheendofthelinepal @locke-writes @rogersxbarnesx @bbbarneswrites @harley-dent @sebbytrash @i-less-than-three-you @aenna-4 @litterally-trash @belleetlabeast @stormy-thomas @becausefanfictionthough @sebaestans @fab-notfat @shieldagentofthemonth @spnfandommademeamoose @hellomissmabel @lovely-geek @allinhishands @majestic-squad @happelu970 @7minutes-tomidnight @-supernatural-coffee-llama @angel34jolly-blog @feelmyroarrrr @dearthofequanimity @lbouvet @takemetothefictionalworld @thesmolbear @avengerofyourheart @laurenwhitehouse-blog @beccaanne814-blog @melonberri @lostinspace33 @fangirl1029 @ryverpenrad @angryschnauzer @lovelyladylilac @bellenuit45 @knittingknerdy @the-real-tony-stank @castielohcastiel @ijustwanttobepartofyourworld @eyeofdionysus @buckyhawk @oinchavengewho @whatsbetterthanfantasy @diving-down-to-wonderland @ianbewiild @pixierox101 @marvel-ous-fics @devilstrip @girl-next-door-writes @nikkitia7 @flowercrownsandmetallicarms @jaybird6232 @crownie-sr @crazychick010 @tinacuppy @buckybarnesisalittleshit @fantasticallyabnormal @popsicle863 @bwozzler @bellastellaluna @sebbeanstan @sebbabylion @divide-supermarketflowers @secondstartotheright-imagines @aesthetic-bbygoats @just-another-fangirl777 @shieldagentofthemonth @broken-pieces @its-onepiece @little-lord @strawberrybucky @lovelyfuckingcunt @4theluvofall @txcountrybelle @ginasellsbooks @phasma-trash @thevanishedillusion @magnitude101999 @rosegoldcherub @lady-thor-foster @power-of-god-and-anime @volcanicchoas @a-watson-in-search-of-a-sherlock @olivelongnprosper @yourwonderbelle @neeadinghugs @odinhson @dafnekeen @thinkwritexpress-official @vethrvolnir @wildefire @heartssick @riddikulus-obsessions

“We need to hurry, love.”

You had snuck Loki into your room, and he stood impatiently by the door while you stuffed the very few items you deemed important into a small bag to bring with you. You glanced around the room once more, making sure you hadn’t missed anything.

“Should I leave a note?”

“And what would it say, exactly? ‘Loki came and took me back to Asgard, so I’m quitting’?” He whispered with a chuckle, but when his eyes fell on your face his smirk quickly faded. All he’d thought about until that moment was how he felt about you and how he thought you felt about him, he hadn’t really thought or cared about how this might affect anyone else.

“I just… I don’t want Wanda to worry,” you said softly, and the hint of sadness in your eyes made his stomach tighten.

“Of course, love. I should’ve thought… “ he said apologetically, “just write whatever you think is best, I’m sure she’ll understand. But, please hurry.”

You jotted down a quick note vaguely explaining that you just weren’t happy at the compound or on the team and that you needed to get away for awhile, and that you hoped she and the team would understand. You folded the paper and wrote Wanda’s name on it, and left it on your bedside table knowing she’d eventually come looking for you in the compound if she didn’t hear from you soon enough.

Loki had watched you as you delicately propped the letter up against your empty water glass. He knew that he’d love to have you all to himself and that you were never truly happy here in the first place, but it pained him to know he was the reason you were leaving one of your dearest and only friends. He quietly approached your side and pulled you gently to his chest, and placed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I’m sure.” You knew you’d miss Wanda, but you knew Vision would take care of her and that she’d want you to be happy, so you choked down the tears that you felt were trying to surface. You turned in his embrace, wrapped your arms around his waist, and kissed him softly on the lips.

He kissed you back, letting the moment linger for just another moment. When it ended, he adjusted his embrace so that one arm was wrapped tightly around you while his free hand held your head securely to his chest. He kissed your head once more and you could feel him smirk against your hair as he whispered “then hold on, love.”

Suddenly, you could feel your body whirling through time and space, and you clung to him with all your strength as light and sound sped by you. You had almost lost all sense of time and direction when suddenly you were jolted to a standstill, face still buried in his chest.

You only loosened your grasp on him when you felt his hands slip down your back and rest on your hips, coaxing you to relax.

“We’re here, darling,” he whispered, turning you towards the opening of the Bifrost.

You gasped as you took in the sight of Asgard, beautiful in all it’s glory, even from a distance.

“It’s… it’s beautiful,” you stammered, amazed that it somehow exceeded all of Thor’s detailed descriptions.

“I guess it’s not bad, is it,” Loki chuckled, amused by your bewilderment.

You almost thought you’d never be able to look away from it, until another voice chimed in from nearby by and startled you.

“My shift is ending soon, you’ll need to hurry,” an armored bald man said to Loki, “and she can’t be seen wearing… that.”

As he gestured towards your Midgardian clothes you admired the markings on his head.

“Thank you, Skurge,” Loki said flatly, rolling his eyes so only you could see.

Loki smirked as he noticed in the light that you were dressed in one of his old t-shirts, and for a moment he reveled in the idea of what it would be like to take it off you. You thought you noticed a spark light in his eyes, but before you could notice why, his smirk fell and he took a step back.

“He’s right, unfortunately,” he murmured, and with a simple gesture you loungewear was suddenly replaced with a beautiful and lengthy Asgardian gown. You marveled at the sheer black that somehow shimmered with an emerald hue while you ran the fabric through your fingers.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, marveling at the sheer black that somehow shimmered with an emerald hue as you ran the fabric through your fingers.

“You wear it well,” Loki admired, the soft smirk returning to his face. He held out his hand to you and nodded towards the opening to the bridge towards Asgard. “Shall we, love?”

“Aren’t you forgetting something,” Skurge commented.

“Oh, right,” Loki replied. “Sorry about this, love...”

He sighed as he took a step back from you and made a similar gesture to the one he’d just made to change your outfit. But this time as he did so, he morphed entirely into the figure of none other than his own brother, right before your eyes.

“I hope you understand, love. It’s just easier for us to get by the people this way,” he sighed through his usual smirk that looked odd with these facial features.

“Oh, god,” you cringed, uncomfortable with the idea that Thor would ever call you ‘love’ in the same tone as Loki. Thor had become a dear friend after he’d noticed you tolerated Loki while the others didn’t, but with your eyes on Loki, you’d never dreamt of thinking of Thor as anything more than that. “Please don’t call me that while you’re… that,” you laughed, gesturing towards his now larger frame.

“I’m sorry, lo-, ah. I’m sorry,” he chuckled, holding his hands up in apology, “I may have made a bit of a… mess, when I left to come back for you. My brother will find out eventually, but should assume I’ve just gone somewhere else in the Nine Realms. But I’d be in a bit of trouble if I just waltzed back into Asgard as myself, so…”

“Are you going to have to stay like this the whole time we’re here?” you laughed nervously.

“No, no. Just when we’re not in private,” he said, and you saw a flash of that familiar smirk again.

You followed him across the bridge and through the courts of Asgard, trying your best to take in all the beautiful sights while trying to appear natural. While few people noticed you, many of the Asgardians nodded their respects to ‘Thor’, making comments welcoming him home again. Loki led you through quiet alleys and up shadowed stairwells, trying his best to avoid the crowds, and soon you found yourself in a gorgeous suite with balcony that overlooked the city.

“Is this your room?” you asked, admiring the tall ceilings and the open archway that led to the balcony.

“No, this is my brothers,” he said with a modest laugh as he returned to his own true form, “it would look odd if someone saw him going to my room each night. And his bed is bigger.”

“Fair enough,” you said over your shoulder with a smirk that matched his as you leaned against the balcony banister. You took in the gorgeous views from your new vantage point, amazed that a place like this existed outside of Earth and still struggling to believe you were really here, in another world altogether.

Loki sauntered up behind you, and as you felt his chest press gently against your back, your clothing was replaced again by the long, black t-shirt from before.

“Hey, I liked that dress,” you laughed, slightly disappointed that you had only gotten to wear it for a short while.

“There will be plenty more like it, love. But I prefer this,” he whispered as he wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, “it’s soft, and it’s adorable on you.”

You laced your fingers into his across your torso, which encouraged him to hold you closer and trail soft kisses down the side of your neck.

“I’m sorry for what I did. Truly,” he whispered against the skin just below your ear between kisses, “I just so badly wanted to bring you here, or anywhere, and in the moment I thought that was our ticket out. I just… wanted to feel free again, but with you, and I wanted you to see that there is more to the worlds than just exhausting work and senseless rules.”

“Some rules keep balances,” you replied with a soft laugh as you turned in his arms to face him.

“Perhaps, but you balance me best,” he said, his eyes searching yours. He couldn’t believe that one person could make him feel so whole, and you couldn’t believe that that person was you. “I missed you, so much. And I just hope that I haven’t failed you.”

“Impossible,” you grinned, resting your arms on his shoulders and twirling the ends of his raven hair with your fingers. He pressed his forehead to yours and his eyes flutter closed as he savored the feeling of you in his arms, accepting the fact that you truly cared for him as much as he’d grown to care for you.

You caught him by surprise as you leaned up and kissed him, but as all the feelings the two of you shared finally bubbled over into that kiss, you felt him step even closer to you, gently pinning your body against the banister with his own. The kiss deepened as you ran a hand through his hair and pulled him in, softly clawing at the collar of his shirt with the other.

He gently bit your bottom lip, and then you suddenly felt his hands at the back of your thighs, lifting you up to him with a strength you didn’t know he had. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he gracefully turned and carried you to the bed, kissing you all the while.

Neither of you stopped until you found yourself laying on your back on the silk sheets of the massive, luxurious bed with the God of Mischief hovering over you. With one hand on the bed he held himself above you, and with the other he cupped your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You’d both managed to lose most of your clothes, and though there was a shift in the darkness of the room, you were still able to take advantage of the brief moment to get a good look at his figure.

“You’re gorgeous,” you said in a breath, softer than a whisper. You often found yourself feeling inferior compared to both of the Gods, and seeing Loki in all his glory was one of those moments, but the admiration in Loki’s eyes told you he couldn’t get enough of you, either.

He leaned in as if he was about to kiss you again, but then he hesitated and hovered above you once more. His mouth was slightly open, that handsome smirk teasing the edges as if he were amused by something but unsure if he could say. Finally, with a deep sigh followed by a nervous chuckle, he ended his internal war and let the words spill out.

“I love you. With all of me, and more than anything in the Nine Realms and beyond, I love you.”

Since that night when you had run away to Asgard with Loki, you both agreed that it had been the best decision the two of you had ever made. You spent most of your time together making great use of Thor’s suite, only leaving to get food or explore Asgard in the later hours when less people are out and about. No one had grown suspicious of you, and Loki imitated his brother in public spaces well enough to get away with it.

You both had plans and ideas to eventually leave and see other places, but you were both so happy to just have the time and the place alone together to do whatever you wanted, so you were really in no rush to leave.

On this particular morning, you had donned nothing but your underwear and another one of his long, cozy shirts, and you sat against the ornate headboard, surrounded by cool, silk sheets and fluffy pillows. You were caught up in the hefty book full of stories of Asgardian lore in your lap when Loki stepped out of the suite in the form of Thor. He told you he was going to get lunch for the two of you, and he secretly planned on collecting some of the flowers you had seen near the forest the week before and loved.

An hour or two had passed, but you hadn’t noticed, enthralled by the stories you were reading. You registered the sound of the heavy door opening, and when you recognized the wide figure and blonde hair from the corner of your eye, you didn’t bother to look up from your book.

“Hey babe,” you said lightly as you turned the page, “how was th-”

You were interrupted by a startled grunt, and looked up to see Thor standing in the open doorway, wide eyed and surprised.

The real Thor.

“What are you doing here?” you both squealed in unison, him scrambling to close the door and cover his eyes while you scrambled to pull the sheets up to cover what Loki’s thin t-shirt didn’t.

“How did you- when did you-,” Thor stammered as he moved more comfortably around his room now that you weren’t so exposed, “we’ve been worried sick about you!”

Just as you went to try to explain, Loki (still in the form of Thor) stumbled through the door with his arms full of bags of food and a massive bundle of flowers that he couldn’t see over.

“Hi, love,” he called out to you while he kicked the door closed behind him.

“You!” Thor hollered, startling Loki and causing him to drop the items in his hand and immediately shift back into his true self.

“Brother,” Loki breathed, his eyes as wide as Thor’s when he’d first found you, “I can explain.”

“I left you here! How did you- when did you-,” you watched as Thor’s brow furrowed and his eyes widened again at the sudden realization, “MY HAIRBRUSH? REALLY? You know that was my favorite one. I swore that I had packed it, and when I arrived at Midgard I spent THREE HOURS looking for it. I had to buy a new one, at the Mart of Walls.”

“It was the best I could come up with on short notice,” Loki said, trying to hide his smirk, “you pack lighter than I anticipated, and I wasn’t about to shift into one of your smelly t-shirts, so it was the only sensible item.”

“You didn’t tell me you came back as a hairbrush,” you said under your breath, laughing to yourself at the mental imagery.

“So, what? You snuck back and stole her away, and have been keeping her here?” Thor asked, gesturing to you as if you were a helpless victim of one of Loki’s tricks.

“I wanted to come,” you chimed in, though you knew Loki was ready to defend you, “I wasn’t happy there, and they weren’t fair to him. To either of us. You had to have known that...”

You scooted to one side of the bed and Loki came and stood beside you, resting a hand on your shoulder. Thor glance back and forth between the two of you, taking a moment to process everything. “You’re right,” he sighed, eventually, “I’m sorry, brother. I just wish you would have told me, instead of undermining the team and going behind my back again. I would have helped you.”

“They wouldn’t have trusted me to let her come, and I wasn’t going to stay away without her,” Loki said quietly.

You realized that Thor hadn’t understood the feelings you shared with Loki until that moment, and as he grew to realize them and understand the situation, you saw his face and shoulders relax.

“And you’re happy here? Both of you?” he asked, glancing back and forth between the two of you again.

“Happier than I’ve ever been, brother,” Loki sighed contentedly, and you nodded in agreement with a warm smile.

“Then this is great!” Thor beamed, suddenly excited that his brother was so happy (and not causing constant chaos). “Let me talk to the people, they’ll pardon you so you can roam the Nine Realms freely again without having to pretend to be...me, apparently. And you can stay in your room again, or, wherever. I’d just like to have mine back, please.”

“That would be greatly appreciated, brother. Thank you,” Loki replied, and the gentle smile he wore told you he was finally at complete peace, for the first time in possibly his whole life.

He grabbed you something more decent to wear and you both began collecting your belongings which had eventually been spread around and stored in various parts of Thor’s room. Thor placed his own things on the table by the door and was about to lead the way out into the hall way when he turned and looked at the bed you had previously occupied. He now fully noticed the rustled, well-used sheets and the pillows strewn everywhere.

“You slept in my bed,” he whispered, his eyes growing wider as he realized what this implied, “you slept in my… did you- DID YOU TWO SLEEP TOGETHER, IN MY BED?”

“Every night,” Loki snickered as he rushed out the door and down the hall, dragging you behind him.

“And most mornings, too,” you winked over your shoulder as you chased after Loki.

“I’LL GET YOU TWO FOR THIS!” You heard Thor holler after you, and as you turned down the open stairwell at the end of the hall you had the perfect side view of Thor’s balcony as he chucked a heap of sheets and blankets over the banister to the rushing waters below.

MASTERLIST

You scrolled through your phone in search of a decent playlist with one hand while you grabbed a small bottle of organic juice from the fridge with the other. In a swift motion you bumped the door shut with your hip and then spun on your heel to head towards the stairs, but ended up walking right into a broad, bare chest.

You stumbled a step backwards and looked up to see Thor towering over you, a gentle smile on his face but a soft look of sympathy in his eyes.

“Oh, hey,” you said, caught off guard by the god in front of you, “when did you get back?”

“Just now,” he said casually, turning towards the kitchen island and setting Mjolnir and his large duffle bag on top.

“Oh, okay,” you said quietly, immediately wanting to ask a thousand questions but scared of his reaction and even more afraid of the answers. “How’s, uh…”

“Loki is fine,” he said, matching your nearly whispered volume and giving you the same look of sympathy. “I know that you want to believe that there is some good still left in my brother, but I gave up that hope a long time ago. But still, I want you to know that even though we’re very different, I will never wish harm on Loki. He is secured, but not imprisoned. He’ll have a good life on Asgard- though it may not be fulfilling to his tastes, no harm is being done to him and he can do no harm to Midgard. I hope you can understand.”

And you did. While you wished that Loki hadn’t made the choice that he made, and that he could still be there with you and his brother, you knew that it would’ve only lasted for so long, and that there were parts of Loki that may never change. If anything, you were just glad to know that he was alright, and that his brother was still willing to treat him fairly, or treat him well.

After the little stunt that Loki had pulled, you were finding it incredibly hard to readjust- not just because he was absent or because you were still a bit confused about your feelings and relationship status, but because of the way that some of the more opinionated members of the compound treated you after witnessing the kiss.

While some of them were well-intended and just wanted to keep your safety in mind, most of the compound seemed to either judge you for your association to Loki, or try to convince you that you were delusional or insane for having any feelings for him. Wanda had given you a chance to explain your side of the situation, and was much more supportive than everyone else after understanding the connection you shared with him.

But it still felt like a part of you was missing, and that the part that was left at the compound wasn’t welcome anymore. You had begun to feel like an untrusted outsider, and without Loki, the tower had begun to feel less like home.

Even after Loki had left, you still found yourself creeping down to the lower level common room most nights. You would wish he was there, and wonder what the two of you would’ve talked about, or what the two of you could’ve shared now knowing that you both felt deeply for each other. But nearly 15 weeks had passed, and after the threats and promises from Tony and the soldiers that if Loki ever returned they’d put him in a box and send him off into the abyss of space once and for all, you were starting to wonder if you’d ever have the chance to see him again.

You thanked Thor for taking care of Loki and for sharing that with you, and then left him to unpack and settle in. You took the stairwell down to the ground level and headed out to the patio. With Led Zeppelin playing through your earbuds, you tried to forget the conversation and forget Loki while you stretched your limbs and limbered up.

You were just finishing your final stretch when you were overwhelmed with an intense feeling that someone was watching you. You knew you had to be safe, since the compound was surrounded by a high wall with a secured entrance. You also knew you were in plain view of half the windows of the compound, so really anyone could be watching you, but you still couldn’t shake the feeling.

Continuing with a few extra stretches to appear casual, you covertly glanced around the yard and patio area to see if you could find the source of your sense, but found none. You eventually forced yourself to relax, and after one more stretch just for good measure, you started on your run. You normally didn’t run far from the main building, and alternated your route regularly between the perimeter of the main yard and a trail that Bucky had made through the woods.

You chose the perimeter this time since it wasn’t too sunny out. You were finishing your third lap around the yard when you suddenly felt the sense again. You slowed to a stop and pulled your ear buds out, letting them hang over your shoulder. You bent over and rested your hands on your knees, pretending to cool off and catch your breath while your eyes glanced around the tree line.

From the corner of your eye, you saw a small area of leaves and brush rustle just a few feet back from the edge of the woods, just off to your left. You stood up slowly and edged your way towards that spot, but the rustling was so quick that you would’ve of missed it had you blinked, and even from your close proximity you couldn’t see anything out of place- just trees, brush, grass, and dirt. The shadows from the clouds concealed the deeper parts of the trees, so you considered going nearer to make sure, but you jumped when you suddenly heard Sam call your name from the compound patio.

“Emergency dispatch, we leave in ten,” he called before heading back inside.

You glanced back at the tree line once more, but you knew you couldn’t look further and risk being late on a mission. You quickly jogged back to the tower and up to your room. You had just enough time to change clothes and freshen up before meeting Sam and Steve in the briefing room.

Since the incident with Loki, you hadn’t been sent on many jobs and were usually just assigned to training new recruits and doing work in the compound. So, you were surprised that they had pulled you in for this dispatch, until you realized it was a pretty minor job and that most of the other Avengers and lead members were out of the compound on solo missions or field ops.

The job went longer than expected but was smooth, nonetheless, and by nightfall you were back in the safe solitude of your bedroom. You peeled off your field clothes, took a long shower, and then dressed in a pair of leggings and a long black t-shirt.

The tee had belonged to Loki, purchased for him amongst many others like it by Wanda when the team realized that he needed more inconspicuous civilian clothes. He had left behind all of his Midgardian belongings- he didn’t really have a choice in the matter, but you knew he wouldn’t have wanted to either way.

The tower was mostly empty while everyone was still away on missions, and the ones who remained were either in bed or out on the town, so with damp hair and bare feet you headed down to the kitchen. You popped open a can of your favorite soup and dumped the contents into a bowl. You sat on the kitchen island and mindlessly watched as the bowl spun in slow circles in the microwave. You couldn’t control your mind as it wandered, thinking about Loki and what he might’ve been doing in Asgard at that very moment.

The ding of the microwave timer stirred you from your trance, so you slid off of the countertop, grabbed your bowl of soup, a spoon, and some crackers from the pantry and headed towards the common room sitting area. You sunk into a large chair that faced the windows and curled your legs beneath you.

There was only about ten feet between that side of the building and the treeline, and the woods in that area were particularly dense. There weren’t any external lights on that side, so when you kept the lights in the common room low, everything was bathed in a comfortable darkness, and the stars above the treetops seemed to shine noticeably brighter. It was a beautiful sight that you and Loki had enjoyed together, and now you wondered if you’d ever have the chance to see the stars and the galaxies from a different view.

You set your empty bowl on the floor, grabbed one of the faux-fur blankets from the basket near the coffee table, and settled back into the chair. As the tops of the trees swayed gently in the breeze, you were reminded of that morning and began to wonder again what could have been out there, watching you so intently. You hadn’t felt threatened or unsafe, just… curious. You knew without a doubt that someone had been watching you, you just didn’t know who it could be or why they would hide.

It wouldn’t be unheard of for a new agent to be wandering around the grounds, exploring the fascinating world that’s new to them, so maybe they were just shy or nervous that they were out of their bounds and didn’t know how to approach you. Or maybe, you wondered, Tony sent an agent to keep an eye on you, to make sure you weren’t going to pull a “Loki” and steal a Quinjet or something. You rolled your eyes at the thought of Tony being that distrusting of you, knowing that it was extreme but not unlikely.

Your thoughts were sharply interrupted as you caught a movement outside from the corner of your eye. It was almost impossible to discern against the expanse of darkness, but you could’ve sworn you saw a darker, dense figure brush against the glass outside. You slowly and gracefully readjusted until you were sitting on the edge of your seat, leaning closer towards the window.

You watched as the mass appeared to move along the glass and closer to where you were sitting. Through the shadows you were unable to distinguish any real details about it, but you could see that it was low to the ground, no taller than three feet, and appeared to be soft despite its density. You were leaning out of your chair now, with your face nearly pressed to the tinted glass and hoping that the figure couldn’t see you, when your stare was suddenly met by a pair of icey blue eyes.

You jumped back into your chair, gripping the arm rests as you tried to settle your spiked heart rate. The eyes were so unexpectedly familiar, but despite them you still couldn’t grasp what you were seeing. The figure turned away graceful and sauntered out towards the treeline. Halfway across the yard it turned towards you again and sat where it stood, as if it was giving you the chance to see it better in the starlight.

As the features of the figure became clearer in your vision, you realized that it was something like a wolf. Its thick fur was black as midnight, and its long tail stretched around its body so that you could see the tip thumping gently on the ground, as if it were wagging impatiently.

You sat in the silence, watching the creature as it watched you, wondering if you really were losing your mind. It seemed that the figure was refusing to move from its place, and you knew you’d regret it eternally if you just walked away.

You tiptoed to the sliding door and tried to open it as quietly as possible, afraid of alerting someone in the tower or scaring off the creature. You stepped out onto the grass and slid the door shut behind you. When you turned to face the creature again, you caught just a glimpse of him as he disappeared into the treeline.

All of your senses were alert and your heart raced as you toed across the yard. You stood at the treeline like you had earlier that morning, weighing the options on whether or not to proceed. You peered between the trees in front of you but found no sight of the creature. Your curiosity eventually got the best of you and you continued on.

The ground beneath you was harsher there as leaves and brush crunched with every footfall, but you had only taken a few steps before you were pulled behind a tree and pressed up against it. The hands that pinned your arms with a gentle force were cool against your warm skin, and the icey blue eyes that pierced yours we’re all to familiar.

“Loki,” you huffed out, expelling the breath that had caught in your lungs at the shock. His name came out in a mixed form of a statement and a question, but he smiled at the sound either way.

“Yes, love,” he smirked, releasing your arms and taking a small step back from you, “it is I.”

“You’re…” you stammered, realizing that the feeling you’d had in your gut had been right the whole time, but still unable to believe your own eyes, “you’re here? And you’re… a wolf?”

“Was a wolf, but yes. I’m here, my love,” he stated with a laugh.

“How? Thor said-”

“My brother means well, but he’s a fool to think I would’ve stayed two second longer there without you after he left. I traveled here amongst his things- still a bit sore from that, I will say- and hid here until I could find the right time to meet you.” He’d taken a step closer again, testing the waters as he reached out a hand and delicately laced his fingers with yours.

“And how did you… how did you know I’d meet you?”

“I know you well enough, love. If you’d moved on, I’d walk away and leave you to your life here. But I knew that if I found you there,” he nodded towards the direction of the common room, “you hadn’t moved on and I’d still have a chance.”

Your silence surrounded the two of you as you took it all in. You still couldn’t believe that he was there, but you had no choice given the fact that you could feel his touch.

“Do I?” His voice was whispered but it shattered the silence, pulling your attention back to the moment from when your mind had wandered to what happened just a few months ago and how you now ended up here. You raised an eyebrow at him, not understanding his question.

“Do I still have a chance?”

While you had spent the whole time missing him and wishing he never would’ve left, you hadn’t really thought about what you’d say if you got to see him again, or if you’d go with him if he ever actually came back for you. You were suddenly filled with a million emotions, and most of them were forms of the hurt you felt from him leaving and the fear that you carried of him doing it again.

“I don’t know,” you stated, pulling your hand from his and crossing your arms across your chest, “are you going to leave me again?”

He laughed graciously at your attempt to be stern with him, seeing right through your facade. He took another step closer and gently cupped your face in his hands, pulling you to look into his eyes and to listen to him fully.

“Never,” he whispered. “I am sorry about that, love, that was an error on my part. I was just trying to get us both out of here, I would’ve never thought that I would get caught. I promise you, it will not happen again. Trust my word on that. I came back for you as soon as I could. We can go back to Asgard before they notice that I’m gone, or we can go anywhere else in the worlds that you’d like. Just tell me, love, and we’ll go. Together.”

He didn’t receive an answer from you and he didn’t feel you pull away, but instead he found all the love in your eyes that he’d come to know over your time spent together, and he knew right then you were the only thing that was ever going to matter to him, and that no one could ever love him quite like you did. He leaned in and kissed you, softer and slower this time around, relishing that this one didn’t have to be rushed or abruptly ended.

When he finally pulled away, leaving you breathless and floating from the flight of the butterflies in your stomach, you knew you couldn’t dare let him leave again without you, and couldn’t stand another second at the compound alone.

“Asgard,” you whispered with the bit of breath you could muster up, “I want to see Asgard for myself, and then we can go anywhere.”

Smiling brightly at your words, he took a step back and offered a hand to you in gesture. “Shall we, my love?”

MASTERLIST