After Henry’s attack, you somehow survived, but you had lost almost all ability to speak. It didn’t matter if you were only one of two left, Papa hated you. You were always the weakest and he despised you for it. He only kept you around after the massacre as incentive for Eleven; his pride and joy. When she didn’t, or couldn’t do as he said he would hurt you. Papa decided that if you couldn’t use your powers then he would make you stronger in other ways and appointed you a tutor to strengthen your mind. When an opportunity to escape came you took it. You grabbed Eleven and the two of you ran as far as you could. You thought you were safe, but when Papa’s men came you and Eleven you were forced to run again. You lost her in the woods, but you stumbled upon someone else. A boy who appeared to be your age. He said his name was Steve.
(An episode by episode fic, possibly with extra chapters. Hopefully I make it through them all.)
Summary: Stark! Reader and Morgan bond over making some treats for the whole team. With the ulterior motive of buttering up her dad, in hopes of trying to soften the blows after a big fight.
Context: This is an alternative timeline and universe I have had rattling around in my mind for years. It surrounds the adopted daughter of Tony Stark who was born and raised in a S.H.I.E.L.D facility. She is a pyrokinetic, has the ability to control and create fire and heat. One unfortunate side-effect is that, like most kinetics, her emotions can impact her powers immensely and manifest themselves physically.
Relationships/Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Stark! Reader, Dad! Tony Stark x Daughter! Reader (The Bucky I am picturing is somewhere between a combination of CW and after his time in Wakanda but feel no pressure to picture whatever you'd like.)
Warning(s): Use of (Y/N). Swearing. A little bit of angst. I do not think it is much compared to some of the works I have read, but everyone's limits are different. Reader was born female and referred to as She/Her. Age Gap: Reader's established age in this chapter is 25 years old. (While there are no adult themes in this post, I want to be able to write about them freely in the future if I want and for that reason the content should be considered is 18+)
Copyright: None of the characters are mine. All rights for characters are reserved to Marvel/MCU. The alternative universe where I placed said characters was created by me. Please do not copy without my permission.
Authors Note: Long time reader, first time poster. I hope people enjoy this reader character and AU I am building, but if not, that is okay. I created this blog to have a place to indulge myself in a fictional world for funsies. I have a long list of scenes to flush the world and Stark! Reader character out that I am excited to write about.
Disclaimer: While there are no physical descriptions of the reader (i.e., skin color, hair color or texture, height, weight, etc.). In full transparency, I have written the character with an aesthetic in mind. --- Dark painted nails, multiple ear piercings, fashion sense is a little bit of corporate goth/whimsigoth/witchy, similar to Wanda, she has a black cat, music taste, likes and dislikes.
Word Count: Over 6k words
Happy Reading!
After picking up Morgan from the elite private school they insisted she attend, her, being an awesome older sister decided it would be fun to bake some cookies together. Maybe more for herself than anything else. The workday was almost over, and their father would be home soon.
Y/N was not having the best day, since they had a nearly explosive argument that morning. She was nervous about seeing her dad after how they had left things. Maybe it would just blow over, but despite her adoptive status, she still inherited Tony's stubbornness. Her feelings were still bruised.
As her little sister, twenty years her junior, changed out of the uncomfortable school uniform they insisted even the kindergarteners wear, she decided to set the mood.
"Friday can you play 'Tony's workshop playlist', please." She sighed, rolling up the sleeves of her grey zip-up hoodie, and took a meticulous amount of time to wash her hands, making sure to get underneath her dark painted nails.
"My pleasure Miss Stark." And that all too familiar acoustic guitar and drumbeat was blasted over the compound's speakers, as she sang along to Mick Jagger's vocals. (Paint It Black, by The Rolling Stones)
She allowed herself to relax, listening to music, swaying around the luxury kitchen, gathering the materials they would need to bake cookies. Before too long the atmosphere would be shattered by several exhausted, sweaty Avengers all coming down from an adrenaline high.
But the interruption from her little sister running into the room singing along to Freddie Mercury's "Don't. Stop. Me. Now." (Don't Stop me Now, by Queen) out of key was wholeheartedly welcomed. Their hands covered in flour and dough banging on the expensive countertop as they drummed along with the climax of the song.
Y/N's hair and form glowed a warm light from within, her body heat rising, and the biggest smile on her face, all indications of the joy she felt dancing and singing around their shared home with someone she loved. She was there when Morgan was born, and even at twenty she was so excited to have a sibling.
Maybe if their age gap was smaller, Y/N would have found Morgan's presence insufferable, and it's still a possibility that when Morgan got older there would be moments when the two sisters will argue, and fight, and have to reconcile like any family. But for now, it was just nice having someone whose first instincts of her weren't fear, or confusion, or pity, just admiration, trust, and love.
"We have to make enough for everyone! We neeeed moreee coookieess, more cookie dough!" Morgan shouted in her best attempt at a threatening demeanor.
"Oh my gosh, you're so right, they're all gonna come home hungry. You're the sweet one of the two of us M, I was gonna say screw em' and just sneak all the cookies into my room." Y/N joked as the little one giggled, but it was always in her plan to make enough for everyone. Hoping maybe, she could butter up her father into finishing their earlier explosive argument as a simple heated discussion instead.
Y/N opened the oven door and grazed her palm over the grills and on the walls of the appliance, "Yea its pre-heated enough. Let's get these batches into the oven." Morgan passed her older sister all four trays, one at a time.
Sure, she could have more than easily baked the dough right in her hands in a third of the time it took them to bake traditionally, but part of the excitement in baking was getting to watch them in the oven. Y/N began setting a timer when one of their favorite songs blasted through the speakers,
"Alllllll abboooardddd!" They screamed in unison. If they had anything in common it was that they were inevitably passed down their father's taste in music. (Crazy Train, by Ozzy Osbourne)
"Your father is home girls." Friday interrupted the song for a moment, but the two Starks were far too invested in the heavy guitar riffs to notice. Y/N placed Morgan on the countertop, the little girl flailed her arms cycling between air guitar and drums as they both head banged so passionately, they might break and roll off.
Just then Morgan was hoisted off the counter by a familiar pair of arms, followed by her giggles as her father attacked her face with a burst of pecks. Y/N halted, her hair, previously glowing bright and warm like a sunrise began to dim and set as she faced her father. Her hair a tussled mess, her breath heavy, and the anxious pit in her stomach eating her up from the inside.
"Friday, lower the music." Tony commanded. Y/N wasn't sure what kind of mood her father was in, was he still as upset as she was about this morning? The mission must have been successful or else he would have completely shut the party down.
"Ooh something smells good in here." Sam remarked when he entered the kitchen still in tactical gear. More of the team made their way into the designated domestic space of the compound. No fighting was meant to go on here, just living. Showers, rest, movie nights, family dinners, drunken game nights, and the occasional late-night snacking.
Still in her own tactical gear, Natasha made home for herself on a barstool, while Clint slammed his body into the couch cushions. Groaning, as he felt the already forming bruises melting into his muscles. Sam and Steve investigated the delightful smell that wafted around the place, Bucky close behind them simply leaning against the counter closest to the entry way, arms crossed over his chest.
"Oh, you girls were making cookies?" Steve discovered, smiling gently as he maintained eye contact with the pastries through the oven door.
"I hope you made enough for everyone." Sam teased, as he rubbed his hands together, stomach growling. Bucky and Nat may have been the only one's sensing the tension when they walked into the unnecessarily large kitchen.
They each took different approaches, Nat placed herself closer to the family, ready to intervene or comfort, whichever came first. Bucky positioned himself far way, keeping his distance like he promised, and analyzing the situation.
He took in the scene before him, Y/N's light was dimming, flickering almost like a candle close to extinguishing. Her posture supported only by a single tight grip on the countertop, but she struggled to look her father in the eyes. Tony's jaw was tight but not locked, he took a deep breath in and then out, his sight anywhere but her face.
Tony let Morgan fall from his arms, no longer able to contain her wriggling. She was always excitement to see Natasha.
"Auntie Nat!" The redhead beamed down at the youngest Stark, lifting her in the air and removing the little girl from the ticking bomb. Tony finally moved, but instead of giving his first born a hug and a kiss to the temple like he normally would, he simply walked around to grab a crystal rocks glass.
"How was the mission?" Y/N asked the whole room, making eye-contact with them all but really only speaking to her father. At this point, everyone could feel the tension between the two Starks. Steve made his way to her, pity in his eyes hidden behind a tired, small smile.
"It was successful, no casualites, no major injuries, we got the intel we needed. All around good day." The blonde soldier answered when no one else dared to break the heavy atmosphere. He gave Y/N that side hug and a peck on the head, before leaving the room for a much-needed shower. Bucky tried not to let it bother him, but it was hard when her light shined a little brighter thanks to Steve.
"Thanks for asking, let me know when the cookies are done." Sam gave her a pat on the shoulder, as he followed in the Captain's footsteps. Bucky knew he should follow suit; he didn't want to leave without comforting her at least a little, but that would have only made the situation worse. He decided it was best to find her later, where they could talk in private. Instead, their eyes met and he offered a small nod in her direction before departing.
Y/N's grip on the counter eased, her heartbeat relaxed, and she felt herself breath out the painful lump that was forming in her throat. Her feelings for Bucky were always an area of sensitivity between her and her father. She settled for a friendship with him, but it only made those feelings evolve and grow, so maybe that wasn't the wisest choice. She watched until his figure disappeared down the corner, allowing herself a short moment of indulgence.
Soon everyone left to their own devices, and it was just daughter and father standing in the cold kitchen. His face still sprinkled with some debris, some dried blood, a forming bruise under the eye. Warming his inside was the single malt scotch whiskey he had made himself in silence. With one more breath, his daughter turned her attention to him,
"Dad-", she was interrupted by a shake of his head and his raised palm in her direction. A, 'stop talking' motion. Tony took a deep long breath, like his next words were going to be a struggle to get out, so she braced for impact.
"Kid, I'm sorry."
Now, of the many things she expected her father to say to her today, after what happened, that was definitely not one of them. When Tony found out that she had been going on missions secretly, and most of the time alone, without his knowledge, he was beyond furious. Enraged, confused, terrified, so many thoughts racing through his mind. So many of his fears felt like they were coming true, and it made him say things he should not have. He meant them but maybe had not expressed them in the best way.
~~~~~~~
"Dad, I want to do this!" She slammed her fist on the lab table. "You have kept me here and shut me out of any, even-even remote involvement in the team, when I can be such a huge help to you!"
"You're out of your mind Y/N, and you don't get a say here anymore, no-no you lost that right when you LIED to me, you could have gotten yourself killed!"
"I lost my right? You're fucking insane, Dad. You've fought gods, aliens for crying out loud, what I'm doing is barely anything in comparison."
"Don't you fucking understand! You could have been killed Y/N. You could have killed innocent people, you're just a kid, you have no fucking idea what you're doing, t-that's why this is the safest place for you." Tony was starting to shake at this point.
"Oh please! I'm twenty-fucking-five. You have been keeping me trapped here for whole life Dad! I am ready, I have been training, and been trained since I was, mind you, a fucking toddler. I can do this; I have been doing this; I want to keep doing this please."
"No, final word, NO! Your safety and the safety of others is my priority Y/N, it's like my fucking job actually, sweetheart. If you go out there, and-and what if you lost control, hmm? What then? If you lose it and cause an incident, what happens then? You are not ready for the pain and guilt that comes with that. T-That comes with causing that much death." He knew he was projecting, and not well, since of course she knew.
"Wow really? I don't know what it fucking feels like. In case you forgot, I KILLED MY OWN MOTHER! I KILLED HER! I know I'm a monster; I will have to live with that for the rest of my fucking life, but at least I can t-try, to do something better with it. Like you did." At this point she couldn't see him, her eyes were full of tears, each one sizzling into steam as it ran down her face. Her hair was fully aflame, her bare feet melting a layer off the floor of his lab. The temperature of the room rose exponentially. "God you are such a fucking asshole." She spat her words at him, stomping out of the room.
"That's the maturity and control your talking about kid." He winced to himself as the room temperature began to drop again. He knew he should have apologized the second the words left his mouth or just should have kept his mouth shut. But it was one of his worst qualities, --always needed to get that last word in.
~~~~~~~
"W-what?" Her eyes finally met her father's. He took another sip from his glass before continuing.
"I am sorry." He gently stepped towards his daughter. It takes a lot to break apart two people who love each other, but when the bond between them is that strong, it doesn't take much to bring them back together when they're ready.
She slowly wrapped her arms around his torso, resting her head on his shoulder, his head on hers and his hand came to cradle hair. The heat her body emitted was like cuddling with a heated teddy bear, it always comforted Tony, especially in his darkest times. It reminded him of when she was a little girl and had a nightmare, she would come crawling between Pepper and Tony, warming up their entire bed.
"I'm scared, I'm so fucking terrified kid, I don't know what I would do with myself if I lost you. Any of you, Pepper, Morgan, I-I just, I need to keep you safe." He spoke into her hair, as his grip around her tightened, then pulled away when she began to sniffle. They faced each other, tears filling both their eyes.
"I know Dad, a-and I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just knew you'd tell me I-I couldn't do it. A-and I thought, maybe if I-, if you saw that I was capable of controlling my powers, and keeping everyone safe. I-It would be enough for you to see; I can do this." She struggled but fought against the lump in her throat to finally be transparent.
Tony took in her words, he knew she was capable. It was idiotic to think otherwise, she was raised by S.H.I.E.L.D before he adopted her, and the terms of her adoption meant that training and doctor's visits had to continue throughout her adolescent. Not to mention, her and Wanda were glued at the hip since training their psychic-based abilities together. She had been conditioning herself for the past few years to control her emotions in battle, so that no unnecessary casualites could occur.
She would be a great asset to the team, but she was his daughter. All he saw sometimes was that little girl who would knock all his shit over in the lab out of curiosity, she was the reason he had to read The Hobbit over and over since she refused fall asleep without it, "What a weird little kid", he always thought to himself. He remembered when she broke her leg that one year, he finally let her join the youth soccer team, she cried and burned some of the other girls in the process. The other parents got her kicked off the team, and he agreed maybe that was for the best.
He looked at the now women that little girl grew into. He sighed, he knew he was defeated. As he began to speak, the loud ring of the kitchen timer went off.
"The cookies! I completely forgot." Y/N jumped out of her father's sight and ran to grab the trays out of the oven. Tony would never get used to seeing her bare hand touch a 400 degree pan out of the oven without so much as a drop of discomfort.
She laid out the trays on the stovetop, waiting for them to cool down before plating and announcing to a compound full of hungry Avengers that they were ready. She was already planning to stash a few away for Morgan and Bucky, knowing once the bulls left their pens it was every man for themselves to grab a treat.
"Dad, listen," She turned back to her father with a sigh, "I know your scared, I get it, I mean, I get so fucking worried whenever you guys head out on missions together. I've seen how scared Pepper gets, a-and I may even be more nervous to tell her. But I just, I'm asking for one chance to show you..." She once again stood face to face with him, a determined aura despite the tears that welled in her eyes, "I can do this, just trust me Dad, please."
Tony had already made up his mind before the timer interrupted their heart to heart. He straightened his back, wiped the unshed tears from his eyes, before cupping his daughter's face to do the same. He took an exasperated breath and shook his head before reaching for a still warm cookie and taking a bite. Mouthful, he spoke,
"Fine. One chance young lady." He threatened her with the sweet treat. "You get one shot, I am picking the mission, and I am choosing the team." Her eyes widened to an inhuman possibility at his words, her hair illuminated a bright golden light, the same luminance covered the rest of her body, the ends of her hair ignited with small flames as she squealed like a teenage girl again.
"Oh my god! THANK YOU! I'm not gonna fuck this up I promise." Y/N hugged her father tightly. She was a grown woman, yes, she could have continued to go on solo missions without his verbal 'permission', but this was what she always wanted, to be part of the team he helped build.
~~~~~~~
Y/N looked over the team, watching as they covered her father's expensive marble countertop with cookie crumbs and spilled milk. Just a group of grown children at heart, she thought to herself. Tony sat with Morgan in his lap as she devoured her fifth cookie.
"Okay, alright, I think that is enough sugar for you, little cookie mongrel. I know I'm not the best father, but this is pushing it. Don't you think?" He wrestled the young girl in his arms taking her upstairs to get cleaned up for a real dinner that would be ready soon. He would normally welcome the scolding from Pepper for feeding the girls nothing but junk food with gusto and a quip, but he was exhausted and would rather try to avoid that outcome.
Morgan was bid goodbye with a cacophony of voices and muffled speech. Y/N smiled brightly at her younger sister, scuffing her hair goodbye as they passed her by.
Y/N reached in the cupboard where she had hidden three cookies, one for each: Her, Morgan and Bucky. With Morgan practically in a chocolate chip coma, she felt foolish for getting butterflies in her stomach over something as juvenile as sharing the last cookie with a crush.
Y/N snuck away to the dormitories of the compound to find the missing member of the team, unaware that Wanda's eyes followed her. Wanda and Y/N became psuedo-sisters ever since the young witch joined the Avengers. On one late night, when the two women bumped into each other at two in the morning searching for a snack, Y/N confided in her about her feelings for the centenarian.
~~~~~~~
"I mean being a S.H.I.E.L.D baby and then homeschooled doesn't really leave many opportunities for dating." Y/N popped open one of her father's pricey, to say the least, Domaine Leflaive Montrachet Grand Cru Chardonay bottles, pouring the 16 grand wine into two coffee mugs. He wouldn't miss it.
"That's fair, I mean growing up I guess we both had bigger priorities to worry about than kissing boys." Wanda took a sip of her wine. "Mm but being the daughter of Stark must have meant you got to enjoy some festivities, no? Must've been fun." She winked her way. Y/N only rolled her eyes with an uncontrollable smile creeping its way to her lips as she sipped from her own mug.
"Okay, Okay, well it's not that romantic you know. Most of the time it was pretty boring tech conferences or government dinners. When he had parties at home, all those drunk people, flashing lights and loud music, it was never really my scene. I would try and flirt with some cute guys, sneaking them in to see some cool Stark tech never hurt. But I was like 17, 18? A-and it would always get awkward when I would start, you know," She giggled to herself, the alcohol making her legs begin to tingle, "when I would start glowing, you can imagine the average guy got pretty freaked out."
Wanda sucked her teeth in annoyance, "I'm sorry." However, she couldn't quite fight back a small giggle that came out her mouth, the wine was getting to her as well "no that is awful, but... maybe a little funny."
"Oh, my goodness you are terrible." Y/N gasped at her so-called friend, a faux pained expression on her face. Shoving Wanda gently before they succumbed to their laughing fits.
"Alright, enough about lousy boys of the past." Wanda began, a mischievous glint in her eyes cornering the young Stark where she sat in her tipsy state. "What is happening between you and the Winter Solider?"
Y/N's powers meant she always wore her heart, not even on the sleeve, but on a giant neon sign plastered on her face. Even with that fact, she still denied everything.
"Hmm you mean besides being just friends, if you even want to call it that. We chat on occasion, l-like sometimes if we're both done training at the same time, we might have small talk on the way back to our rooms." She fumbled her speech, taking a nervous sip. She felt the eternal flame inside start to heat up her face the more they spoke about Bucky.
"Uh-huh, and let me ask, do you guys usually always finish training at the same time? Do you ever, hmm let's just say, busy yourself if he is not done so that you can leave at the same time?" Wanda already knew the answer, Y/N and her were training a few times a week together, so yes, she noticed. Y/N pressed her lips together harshly, willing the corners of her mouth to fall back down. She sighed, dropping her head into her hands, mug of wine empty and forgotten on the kitchen island.
"Ugh, am I really that obvious? God, this is so embarrassing, do you think he can tell?" Y/N was never going to be able to set foot in the sparing gym ever again. Wanda was quick to console her friend, but not without another burst of soft laughter.
"No trust me, he is just as oblivious as you. I have watched him do exactly the same thing." She rubbed slow circles along her back. Y/N's head shot up in disbelief. "I swear! Y/N I have watched him do several more laps around the track, or-or beg Sam or Steve to spar one more round with him. One time, I actually watched this old man scroll on his phone for thirty-minutes waiting for us to be complete with our practice."
~~~~~~~
Every door in the compound looks exactly the same from the outside. So, if one doesn't know where they're going, or who they are looking for it can feel like a maze. Fortunately, Y/N knew exactly where she was going. She had been down this corridor before dozens of times after they would walk back together. He always insisted on walking her back to her room first, despite his being closer on their route. Her room was a whole floor above the rest of the Avengers, which meant Bucky gladly took the elevator up and down just to walk her back to her quarters.
~~~~~~~
"Really you don't have to take the trek up with me, I'm sure you're aching for a shower, I know I always am after training." Her hands gripped the strap of her gym bag tighter, her palms sweating.
"No, no trust me, I really don't mind. I can't shake some old habits, and I was always taught, you don't ever let a girl walk to her place alone. You always make sure she gets home safe." They exchanged short, shy smiles. He leaned his head back against the glass wall of the elevator, using every ounce of discipline to not stare in her direction. Regardless she felt exposed in the confined space, wiping her clammy hands on the sleek fabric of her gym shorts. He always maintained a distance, he gave Tony his word he would, but there was only so much he could give in small spaces. So, he used it as an excuse to be closer to her. Maybe that's why he really never minded riding with her in the elevator near daily.
"Uhm, Wanda told me the team is having like a little movie night tonight," She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, "Are you thinking of making an appearance?" She mustered up some nerve to look in his direction.
"I mean I wasn't planning to, but Steve's kind of forcing me to, you know, says I gotta start socializing more." Bucky tightened his arms across his chest, instinctively protecting himself. "Uhm, were you planning on going tonight?" He rubbed the back of his neck, his long hair sticking to the sweat. Yeah, he really did need a shower, he thought.
~~~~~~~
Y/N smiled at the memory as her footsteps began to unconsciously speed up towards her destination. The soft, warm glow around her figure meant stealth was never her best attribute. Bucky already knew she was there; he was reading quietly when he felt the room suddenly become just a tad warmer, like any space in her radius did. A small light shined from just outside his doorway, followed by an even softer knock rapping on the metal surface.
"Hey, it's me. I don't know if you're in, I was just checking. Well really, I was just looking for you, since you hadn't come by with the others." Y/N stared down at her feet, maybe he wasn't in? She could wait for him to come back. Maybe? Would that be too odd? Her thoughts were running a mile a minute.
He tapped his fingers nervously against the book, now shut in his lap. Tony's words always hounded Bucky, to keep his distance. The two of them became friends sure, but only because Y/N made the first move. Bucky already got the feeling that he was too much trouble than it might've be worth, and he didn't want to be a rupture in the established social group. He felt like an outsider, but maybe part of that was his fault. She knocked one more time, a little louder this time.
"Bucky?" He shot up at that point, only a few long strides and he was at the door. He could always feel how warm she made the air that surrounded her. When he opened the door, he was greeted by that warmth. He swore it was in his head, but her face shined a little brighter when their eyes met.
"Hi, I'm sorry, I was really into my book, I-I didn't hear you the first time." He cringed internally, for a nearly 100-year-old spy he was a horrible liar, anyone could have seen through him right now.
"It's okay, don't worry about it, I'm sorry I interrupted. I understand, when I'm really immersed in a story, I tend to turn off everything going on around me." Y/N was starting to ramble, her eyes darted around from the loose strands of his hair cascading across his face as he leaned against the frame, then his metal fingertips tucking one of those strands behind his pinkish ears. Then down to her hands where she held the secret cookies. "I, uh, come bearing gifts." She presented. "I knew once everyone came by that they'd all be scarfed down in a flash, sooo I stashed some, f-for us, for you really."
If she had the power to multiply herself instead, she would use it to slap herself. Get a hold of yourself! She thought. Y/N was more than sure her face was practically on fire at this point. All her confidence and nerve were throwing themselves out the window. She was a beautiful, intelligent, powerful women. But in front of him, all she could feel were her insecurities. She was trying to play it cool but instead stumbled her way into flustered mess.
Bucky reached out for her with his right hand, his flesh hand. A light grasp on her fingertips that held the napkin and cookies. His heart thumped a little harder at her consideration for him, and then on top of that, the fact that she made the journey to deliver them personally. That is just the kind of person she is, she's always doing nice things for others. This wasn't out of the ordinary. Bucky reasoned with himself.
"This is really nice, I-uhm. Thank you, Y/N." His voice was soft towards her; he tried his best to be. Looking her in her eyes, he took a bite into one. Then his eyes rolled back with a small groan, "Wow, these are really good. You made these from scratch?"
"Y-yeah, it may come as a surprise but being Tony Stark's daughter meant I spent a lot of time alone, in a big empty house with only a robot to keep me company. Believe it or not, you learn to entertain yourself." Hints of her typical sarcasm returned. Her hands were still cradled in his single palm, as she took the second cookie for herself.
"I'm sure living in a nice fancy house must've been terrible." The sarcasm dripped down his words in response. They were both leaning against the door frame now, an intimate playfulness between them. Hands still cradling the last cookie.
She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah I get it, poor little rich girl. Trust me Bucky, you don't even know the half of it." Their eyes met, his ocean blue ones searching through hers. Y/N took a deep breath, dropping her gaze. "Do you wanna split this last one? It was supposed to be for Morgan, but my father basically declared no more sugar for the rest of the year." She took her hands out from his and split the cookie in two mishappened halves.
"Sure," He responded with a small, amused huff, "But only because I don't think I have had something chocolate and so sugary in the past 70 years? So, I think I can indulge."
Who knew eating a cookie could be so attractive, she thought. He dusted the crumbs off his hands, and she wiped the sweat of her palms off on her sides. Neither of them moved, the cookies were finished, the whole point of this visit was over. Y/N had no other reason to be standing at his doorway now.
His arms were now crossed along his chest, and she fiddled with the hem of her worn out hoodie. She was looking for a reason to stay, trying to think of a way to keep the conversation going. They spoke simultaneously:
"So, what book were you reading?"
"What did you and Stark talk about?"
"What?" Her eyes were trained on him now, unwavering, brows furrowed.
Bucky let out a heavy breath, it was his turn to feel embarrassed, and a bit shy. He attempted to speak each word steadily, "When, we came back from the mission today, I noticed, you seemed, you seemed a bit shaken up around y-your dad." His voice sounded like there was gravel in his throat. He felt like he was overstepping an unspoken boundary they had.
"I'm sorry, I asked Steve, but he just said you guys had to talk about something, like family stuff." He ran a hand through his hair and searched for her eyes to see if he should stop and wait for her response or keep going. Her eye contact was steady, but not cold. So, he continued, "Look, I understand if you don't wanna talk about it, i-it's really none of my business. I'm only bringing it up because, I wanted to know if you were alright."
She tried to conceal her smile; he was checking up on her. They were friends, this was normal. On the other hand, she reminded herself of Wanda's anecdote from weeks ago. Y/N exhaled the long breath that she was holding before answering all his questions.
"That's really sweet Bucky," she started. He attempted to shrug off any compliments she threw his way, but the rosiness of his cheeks was untamable. "I'll be completely honest with you; I had kind of a shitty day, but I am much better now!" Bracing her hand on one of his folded forearms, reassuring him that she was okay. "My dad and I got into a huge fight this morning before you all left for the day, it was intense to say the least. So, we were just hashing things out now." She contemplated telling him about the content of the argument, it's cause and effects.
His curiosity not yet satisfied, eyes searching her face for any dishonesty or discomfort. Landing on her lips, watching as she took in another breath, pressing them together before submitting, "I may have been keeping it a secret from him that I've been working with Fury and Agent Hill on solo missions." She winced at her words. Bucky couldn't contain the laughter that ruptured from his chest. It was light and airy, nothing like she thought his laugh would have sounded.
She basked in the sound of it. If she let herself slip any further, if she let her heart continue to race any faster, then the entire floor was going to be burnt to a crisp. What were those lessons she learned again? Right. Take deep-grounding-breaths. Mindfully go through your entire body and relax any muscles that were unconsciously tensing.
"Sorry. I just assumed you had already been doing that this whole time. You train just as much as the rest of us, you're really smart." He cleared his throat, "Your powers are like nothing I've ever seen before. It makes sense to me that you'd been out there just not on any missions I was assigned to."
"Well, you assumed incorrectly, Sergeant Barnes." They mirrored each other now, her arms crossed and attempting to relax herself again. Trying to return to the easy-going energy they had moments before, swinging sarcastic, somewhat flirty comments back and forth. "You know how Tony Stark can be, quite unhealthily protective at the best of times."
His eyes were trained on her now, gentler this time, as at ease as he could be. Patiently waiting for her to share more. "Now, imagine, you're Tony, and you have an emotionally combustible daughter, capable of destroying this entire compound in the blink of an eye if she loses any semblance of control. Killing a couple hundred people at the very least. Would you want her out there?"
So much for keeping it light and breezy.
Bucky's jaw tensed seeing her light dim noticeably, rubbing the back of her neck, avoiding his eye contact. Despite her father reluctantly coming around to the idea, the destructive reality of her abilities always plagued the back of her mind when she went on those solo missions. She pleaded to her father that she was ready, but, damn, what if it turned out she wasn't? That little doubt always spoke to her.
He leaned in closer, only slightly, willing her gaze to meet his again. When she did, he finally opened his mouth.
"Yes." His whisper came out gravely. "If it's you, yeah. Y/N I would, because I trust you." She let out a small, amused hum.
"Thank you." It came out faintly. She blinked the weak tears that started to well in her eyes and took a deep breath before they could grow any bigger.
He cleared his throat once more, "I mean it."
She chuckled, "I know, so do I."
The two of them were planted in that doorway. It wasn't the teasing banter filled tension from before that was present between them now. This was more intimate, transparent, and warm. Neither wanted to be the first to disrupt it. It was nice, peaceful even, just both pairs of eyes slowly trailing each other's features.
He almost let himself lean in when her eyes continuously landed on his mouth. Almost. Alternatively, he cleared his throat hard before answering her original question.
(Sunshine x Grumpy, Friends to Lovers, Fluff → Slow Burn Romance)
🌙 Tags:
#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel smut #friends to lovers #sunshine x grumpy #virgin reader #first time #invisibility powers #superpowered reader #slow burn #soft bucky #protective bucky #aftercare #fluff and smut #marvel fanfic #explicit fic
⚠️ CW / TW:
Explicit sexual content (18+ only, MDNI)
Virginity loss / first time sex
Mild power-related body control issues (reader’s invisibility flares during climax)
Slight praise kink undertones
Brief mention of reader embarrassment/self-consciousness
Explicit language
You’d been invisible for nearly ten minutes, watching Bucky from the corner of the common room. His head was bent over a book, hair falling forward, metal fingers drumming against the cover like he was trying to summon patience out of thin air.
“Y/N,” he said without looking up, voice low but certain.
You froze.
“Don’t play games with me, doll. I know you’re here.”
There it was again—that uncanny sense. You could slip past everyone else, not a sound, not a shift in air pressure. But Bucky? He always knew. It was infuriating. And comforting.
You huffed, materializing with a shimmer and plopping down onto the couch beside him. “You ruin all my fun.”
His mouth tugged into the barest hint of a smirk. “You call sneakin’ around fun? You’re like a damn cat.”
“I am fun,” you shot back, grinning, leaning over to peek at his book. “What are you reading? Why that one? Why not the other one I saw in your room last week?”
He groaned, shutting the cover. “You ask more questions than anyone alive.”
“That’s because I like answers.”
“You’re nosy.”
“You’re grumpy.”
“Sunshine.” He shook his head, but you caught the tiniest sparkle in his eyes when he used the nickname he thought you didn’t notice stuck.
Later that night, you ended up outside on the balcony together. The city glowed, the wind pulled strands of hair into your face.
“You ever get tired of me following you around?” you asked softly, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “You could tell me to go away.”
He turned to you slowly, that heavy weight of his gaze making your chest tighten. “I’d never tell you that.”
You blinked. “Never?”
“Never,” he repeated, firm as steel. Then, quieter: “World’s dark enough. Don’t go makin’ yourself invisible too much. I like knowin’ where you are.”
Something in your stomach flipped, warmth flooding your cheeks. “Bucky Barnes… did you just say something sweet?”
He grumbled, looking away. “Don’t get used to it.”
But when you shyly slipped your hand into his—your very first time reaching out like that—he didn’t let go.
Not all night.
It started small. The brush of his thumb over your knuckles, almost absent-minded. You were sure he didn’t even realize he was doing it—until you looked up and caught him staring at your joined hands like he couldn’t quite believe it either.
“Bucky,” you whispered.
He lifted his gaze, blue eyes stormy. “You sure you wanna be sittin’ this close, sunshine? I’m not…” He trailed off, jaw tight. “I’m not always good company.”
You laughed softly, leaning in. “You’ve been my favorite company since the day I met you.”
That broke something in him.
One second you were sitting side by side, the next his lips were on yours—rough, hesitant, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he kissed too hard. But you didn’t vanish. You bloomed. You clutched at the front of his shirt, tugging him closer, pouring years of unspoken feelings into a single trembling kiss.
When you finally broke apart, your forehead rested against his. Both of you were breathing hard, hearts racing like they’d been waiting for this moment forever.
“Doll…” his voice was hoarse, softer than you’d ever heard it. “You don’t know what you’re doin’ to me.”
“I think I do,” you whispered, cheeks burning. And then, before you lost your nerve: “I’ve never… been with anyone before.”
Bucky froze. His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin like you were made of glass. “You mean…?”
You nodded, throat tight. “I’m a virgin. So if you don’t want—”
He cut you off with another kiss, gentler this time. When he pulled back, his smile was faint but real. “Sunshine, you think that scares me off? If anything…” He exhaled, shaking his head. “Makes me wanna take care of you even more.”
Your heart nearly burst.
“Bucky,” you murmured, eyes shining, “you already do.”
The air between you was fragile, electric, like glass humming before it shattered. Bucky kissed you again, slower this time, his flesh hand tilting your chin just so, guiding you into his rhythm. When his tongue brushed yours, you gasped, clinging to him like you’d float away otherwise.
“You’re shakin’, doll,” he murmured against your mouth.
“Because it’s you,” you confessed, voice trembling. “Because it’s always been you.”
That look he gave you—like he could tear the world apart and still never be worthy of your trust—made your chest ache. He pressed his forehead to yours, breath ragged.
“Tell me if I go too far, yeah? One word and I stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered.
He kissed you until your lips were swollen, until the room blurred and the world narrowed to the heat of him. His hands mapped you carefully, reverently—calloused flesh palm on your waist, cool vibranium gliding down your thigh. Every touch was a question. Every sigh from you, an answer.
When his thumb brushed beneath the hem of your shirt, you lifted your arms before he even asked. His breath caught at the sight of you bared, skin flushing under his gaze.
“Beautiful,” he muttered, like the word wasn’t big enough.
You flushed, self-conscious. “Don’t stare.”
He smirked faintly, kissing down your throat. “Sunshine, I’m gonna spend the rest of my life starin’.”
He eased you back onto his bed, body bracketing yours. His metal hand held your hip steady while his flesh hand slipped into your panties, fingers finding you wet and trembling.
“Oh—Bucky,” you gasped, clutching his shoulders.
“That’s it,” he coaxed, voice low, rough. “Let me learn you.”
He circled your clit, gentle and deliberate, watching your every reaction like it was gospel. When he slid one thick finger inside, your walls clenched, a sharp cry escaping your throat.
“Easy, doll. You’re tight—fuck—you’re squeezin’ me so good already.”
Your invisibility flickered, skin shimmering for a heartbeat before snapping back.
“Bucky!” you squeaked, mortified.
He stilled, brows drawn. “You losin’ control?”
You bit your lip. “It happens when I… when it’s too much.”
His grin was wicked, tender. “Then let’s see how far I can push you.”
He moved carefully, drawing out and pressing back in with steady, rocking thrusts. The burn eased, replaced with molten pleasure that made your toes curl.
Your moans grew louder, breathless, the kind of sounds Bucky wanted to etch into memory. He shifted, grinding into you just right—your cry was sharp, helpless.
“That’s it,” he urged, sweat dripping down his temple. “Let go for me.”
Your body arched, walls clamping around him as ecstasy crashed over you.
And then—your powers slipped.
Your body flickered invisible mid-climax, leaving him staring through you—seeing himself buried deep inside, watching his cock vanish into thin air where your body should’ve been.
The sight ripped a guttural groan from him. “Holy fuck, doll—”
He thrust hard, undone by the surreal, overwhelming image, and spilled inside you with a shudder, still holding you invisible in his arms.
When your body shimmered back into view, you were flushed and shaking, eyes glassy. He collapsed beside you, pulling you into his chest, pressing kiss after kiss into your hair.
“You okay?” he rasped, voice wrecked.
You giggled weakly, burying your face in his neck. “Guess I can’t hide from you anymore.”
He chuckled, squeezing you tighter. “You never could, sunshine. Not from me.”
You lay tangled together, both of you catching your breath, the room filled with the hum of the AC and the wild pounding of your hearts.
Bucky pressed a kiss into your damp hair, murmuring, “You did so good for me, doll. Better than I ever dreamed.”
You blushed, still trembling, the memory of losing control flickering in your chest. “Sorry about the… invisibility thing. That doesn’t usually happen unless it’s—”
He tilted your chin up, steel-blue eyes locking on yours. “Unless it’s good?” His grin was cocky, but the tenderness behind it melted your embarrassment.
You smacked his chest weakly. “Don’t get smug.”
“Can’t help it, sunshine. You make me feel like I could take on the whole damn world.” He kissed the tip of your nose, then carefully slid out of you, both of you groaning at the sensitivity.
“Stay put,” he ordered softly, grabbing a towel and slipping into the bathroom. When he returned, he was all business—gentle, thorough, cleaning you up with hands steadier than you felt. Every touch was reverent, like you were something sacred.
“You don’t have to—”
“Shh.” He kissed your knee, brushing the towel over your inner thighs. “Let me take care of you. First time should always end with someone lookin’ after you.”
Your chest ached. No one had ever cared like this.
Once you were clean, he tugged on a fresh shirt and slipped it over your head. The hem hung nearly to your thighs, swallowing you whole.
“You look better in my clothes than I do,” he teased, sliding back into bed.
You curled into his chest, cheek against the soft fabric. “I feel safe here.”
His arms tightened instantly, metal hand spanning your back. “You are safe. With me, always.”
There was a pause, quiet and fragile. Then, in a whisper that made your throat tighten:
“You’re mine now, yeah?”
You tilted your head up, smiling shyly. “Yours.”
He kissed you again, slow and unhurried, a promise sealed in warmth.
Sleep tugged at you, but you forced your eyes open. “You’ll stay, right? Not leave in the middle of the night?”
He huffed a soft laugh, pressing his face into your hair. “Sunshine, I’d fight God Himself before I left your bed tonight.”
That made you giggle, and your laughter vibrated against his chest.
Bucky’s eyes closed, peace softening his features in a way you’d never seen before. As you drifted off, his arms never loosened, his hold never wavered.
For the first time in years, he slept soundly—because wherever you were, he was home.
Summary: Being in a relationship with Jason Todd is never boring—especially when you’ve got powers that can rival even the craziest of Gotham’s chaos. From vigilante missions to lazy nights at home, you and Jason navigate love, danger, and superpowered shenanigans.
Warnings:
A little language (it’s Jason Todd, after all)
Power mishaps and teasing
[Masterlist]
General Dynamic:
Mutual Respect: Jason admires your powers but never treats you like you're invincible or above him. He knows you're strong, but he’s fiercely protective, even when you don’t need him to be.
Banter Galore: If your powers involve something flashy (e.g., controlling fire, energy manipulation), Jason will joke about you stealing his thunder when fighting bad guys. “And here I thought I was the intimidating one.”
Training Together: Jason pushes you hard in training to make sure you can hold your own, not because he doubts your abilities, but because he wants you to be prepared for anything Gotham throws at you.
Combat & Vigilante Work:
Dynamic Duo: Your powers add a unique edge to your team-ups. Jason likes coordinating attacks, incorporating your abilities into his plans seamlessly.
Battle Banter: Jason can't resist making quips while fighting. If you’re doing something over-the-top with your powers, he might tease, “Show-off much?”
Healing Moments: If your powers include healing, Jason appreciates how quickly you patch him up after fights. He often jokes, “Don’t get too good at this, or I’ll lose my rugged charm.”
Domestic Life:
Power Mishaps: Sometimes, your powers get out of control at home, leading to funny or chaotic situations. Jason might come home to find you frantically trying to fix a scorched couch or repair the fridge you accidentally froze.
Helping Hand: Jason secretly loves when you use your powers to make mundane tasks easier. He acts grumpy about it but secretly enjoys it when you float items over to him or speed through chores.
Safety Net: If your powers include something like creating shields or force fields, Jason appreciates how you subtly use them to protect him in day to day situations, even if he doesn’t always admit it.
Emotional Connection:
Understanding Each Other’s Burdens: Jason relates to the weight of your abilities, especially if they come with responsibility or guilt. He opens up about his own struggles with being resurrected and the Red Hood mantle in late-night conversations.
Comfort During Nightmares: If your powers are tied to emotions, Jason instinctively knows when something’s off with you. He’ll hold you close and remind you that he’s there to ground you when things get overwhelming.
Vulnerability: Despite being tough, Jason has moments where he lets his guard down, admitting how your powers can make him feel vulnerable—not because he’s intimidated, but because he worries about you putting yourself at risk.
Fun Moments:
Pranks: Jason loves teaming up with you to prank the Batfamily using your powers. Whether it’s floating Alfred’s tray or making Damian’s sword disappear, you two are the ultimate mischief-makers.
Showing Off: Jason low-key loves watching you use your powers, even if he acts like it’s no big deal. “Yeah, yeah, very impressive,” he’ll say, but his smirk betrays him.
Power-Enhanced Cuddles: If your powers include creating warmth or generating soft light, Jason enjoys cuddling with you, especially on cold Gotham nights. He’ll joke that you’re his personal heater.
Batfamily Reactions:
Dick’s Teasing: Dick teases Jason endlessly about dating someone with powers. “Guess you finally met someone who can keep up with your attitude, huh?” Jason’s response is usually a death glare.
Alfred’s Approval: Alfred appreciates how your powers complement Jason’s fiery personality, and he often slips in kind remarks about how you’re good for him.
Damian’s Skepticism: Damian might act unimpressed, but he secretly thinks your powers are cool—he’s just too stubborn to admit it.
Authors Note: Hello! I honestly had a lot of fun writing this, and it's been in my drafts FOREVER, so I hope you like it ! At first I intended to write this into just a single shot, but then I got carried away with actually writing it, so it'll have to be a multi-part series. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Non-Graphic mentions of past torture, general sad backstories that comes along with villain origins. Tony's kind of an ass in this, I'm soRRY !!!! kind of star-crossed lovers ????
Pairing: Pietro x Reader
Prompt: Like the twins, you were a HYDRA experiment; your powers focus mainly on healing and wound transferring. Your past is a dark secret for Tony, and what happens if he finds out when it's too late?
Words: 4,783
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War.
That's what united the three of you. Having not only Ultron in common, but also HYDRA as well. You had arrived at Hydra first, but the memory of how you wound up there, or anything predating, was nothing but a dark abyss. The only memories that managed survival were early memories of experimentation. Injections, tests, so many that there isn't even a number anymore.
The twins arrived at the same facility years after you had, and since they were kept in the cells next to you, friendship was inevitable. You never got to see them while you were kept captive by HYDRA scientists, but you had little things. Small cracks in the walls, holes that were barely big enough to fit a finger through and sometimes even smaller than that. It may not have been much, but it was enough, and the happiness it provided was nothing like you had ever felt before.
You'd never really had a friend before, then.
Naturally, those within HYDRA weren't too fond of the yapping you three did, and you had found out the hard way the first time they overheard a conversation between you and Wanda. As a consequence for disobedience, they had punished you harshly as a result, despite the pleas and the apologies that left your mouth as they dragged you off.
They had done such a number that you couldn't see properly for a week straight after, and could barely move enough to retrieve your daily food rations. After that, you three learned to only talk when night fell. While no one kept prisoner within HYDRA's walls were ever privy to the beautiful night sky, it was easy to tell when night had fallen. The staff would thin out, and what staff remained would be more focused on their 'important work' than three measly prisoners in the corner.
Still, on their first days you managed to give them a quick run down on things before they had caught you that day. When the best time to sleep was, what to look out for in their meals in case they tamper with it, and how if they ever got hurt too badly all they had to do was sit beside one of the finger-sized holes in the wall and you'd be able to heal them by just touching them. Your first punishment though is what prompted them to ask why you couldn't just heal yourself.
Truthfully? It was the one question you could never answer, and neither could HYDRA. Whatever powers ran through your veins went completely null whenever you used it on yourself, except for the psychic shields. That was the only thing, so it sort of balances out, in a way, but after that they felt a bit more protective of you. The three of you have been inseparable ever since. Along with your healing abilities came an ability to, of course, use psychic shields (or force fields as they're more commonly known by), but also light forms of telekinesis, and an ability to transfer a persons injuries to your own body.
HYDRA was currently training you in the ability to provide a cloak of invisibility to another person within your psychic shield, something that was proving a little more challenging to learn. Transferring wounds, however, is something you often did with the twins when your healing magic wasn't working right that day or you couldn't muster the energy for it, and they only figured it out when Wanda noticed a slight difference. When you actually healed them with magic, your hands would glow white, like an angel, and when Wanda had caught notice of it she was sure to ask you.
After that, she only let you heal her if you could with magic. In part because she couldn't stand the thought of you taking on her injuries, but also because she knew her brother was worse off, and that there was no way in hell that she'd be able to talk you out of transferring his wounds, not in a million years. However, it wasn't a one-sided friendship either, the three of you were there for one another in a way that nobody else could. Not even Bucky; even with his own experience in HYDRA, it still wouldn't be the same.
Wanda, Pietro, and yourself all lived it together, and that set the foundation for an unbreakable bond. It was no surprise when they broke you out of the facility after being released themselves, and it was even less of a surprise when you had followed them and joined forces with Ultron. Their own trauma was separate from yours, and while you may not know what it's like to sit three feet from a bomb for two days straight, but you knew rage.
You knew anger.
And you were angry for them.
When they finally broke you out of the facility, it was the first time you had actually were able to see their faces, and them your own. It was also then that Wanda had granted you with memories of the past, and the memory shards she had when she uncovered a bit about your past on her own (lots of face-punching got her those memories). Pietro was gentle with you then, giving you the biggest of hugs. While Pietro already had a special spot in your heart, your time together with him solidified it.
You knew you were in this together with them, no matter what. You fell for him, and you fell hard, but you always focused on giving your friends the revenge they deserved.
What you didn't know, is that Pietro knew.
Well...
Kinda.
He's not exactly the smartest guy around when it comes to dating.
He thought your crush was more superficial, like you didn't REALLY like him, like you just thought he was hot and that you were just looking for fun.
Did that make any sense? Did you even show any signs that you were even interested in that kinda stuff?
Absolutely not, he's an idiot, but, ya'know, he's your idiot.
He makes up for being an idiot by being a fucking gremlin (read: he makes it a personal hobby to tease you a TON, and to see just how much he can make you blush like an idiot in a day. Shared idiocy, if you will, just a town over. Idiotcity, and idiotvile.)
Wanda has tried many (many, please just pay her for her matchmaking services at this point) to explain things to the both of you; explain to her brother that you like him for more than just his stupid biceps, and explaining to you that her brother is an idiot (but a sweet idiot. Most of the time-).
The thing is he likes you too, more than he lets you see, more than he's even told his sister, and every single day he fights the urge to just sit you down and spill everything to you even though he thinks you won't return his feelings to the same degree. And everyday you do the same.
A weird love limbo (that sounds weird, maybe not a limbo, maybe like....love purgatory??).
It got worse when you had fallen into a style you liked; practical in nature, for all the fighting you'd be taking part in, except for all the white. White leather pants so you could move without worrying about anything showing that shouldn't be, but you kept your top small and skin-tight, because running raises body temperature, and you're more of an agile, keep-dodging-swings-like-a-roach-you-can-never-kill person than someone who drenches themselves in combat.
And boots that actually were practical boots and not New York Fashion Week boots. Your sleeves were detached from your actual top; starting at your elbow in a silver cuff, translucent fabric hugging your forearm comfortably to a tie around your finger, while the other part of the sleeve billowed down to your side, sort of medieval royalty style, and boy did you look like fucking royalty to him.
Even now, he still can't help but stare at you, captured by how beautiful you look. In all white like an angel, but decorated in silvers and blues like an elf.
Elf angel?
Heavenly elf?
He doesn't know, all he knows is that you're drop dead gorgeous, and he loves the way you look so divine, and the way your top hugs your--damn it. Don't look there Pietro, are you a fucking idiot? (yes.)
That being said, he flirts with you.
A lot.
Sometimes just because he can, but mostly because he really really (REALLY) likes you, and can't help it. Naturally, you actually flirt back.
That's how your damnation into the love limbo purgatory was birthed, really. It put the both of you in this odd place of no PDA has actually been exchanged, but you flirt often enough that Wanda has to make fake throwing up sounds to get you two to stop half the time.
The thought of you actually being in love with him never actually crosses his mind with any substance, not even when Wanda tries to explain it, he's always thought it was more of a superficial crush because....well, frankly, he doesn't think he's good enough for you.
It sounds crazy, he knows, The Amazing Pietro (cue muscle flash here) insecure?? Feeling something more than just thinking you're cute, more than just....liking you as a friend. It's a strange feeling, strange enough that it's not like anything he's felt in the past. It's real, this love he feels for you, and maybe....just maybe....he's scared of losing you if he says anything.
It shows prominently when The Avengers meet the four of you in the Salvage Yard. Since you didn't have that excellent of offensive powers, you had hidden in the shadows, kept a psychic field on Wanda to make sure nothing hurt her, and just when Ultron was giving a speech from a place of deep seeded hatred, Tony had showed up just in time. Cracking witty jokes, as if everything was just peachy.
"This is funny? It's what, comfortable?" Pietro had questioned as he stepped forward, and you kept a precautionary field around him, "Like old times?"
"This was never my life." Stark had defended, and you narrowed your eyes as you stepped forward in turn, but stayed behind Pietro.
"No?" You questioned, "But you supplied it, you funded it; took black-tie pictures next to the military officials that were peddling the devastating weapons you created; caring more about the girls around your arm than the families you were killing." You tilted your head, knowing you were getting into his.
It didn't take like for all hell to break loose, and in the chaos Captain America had sent his shield flying at you when you had made a move to use your psychic shield around Ultron. While Wanda was quick to use her own powers to take him down, it wasn't in time to prevent the shield from crashing into your abdomen and breaking a rib or two, and the subsequent piece of metal you crashed into as a result of the shield's velocity.
A broken rib and a gash in your side might be enough to take a normal person down, but HYDRA has done worse to you. Still, Wanda helped you up and made a mental note to check back in on you when all this mess was said and done. Thanks to your time with HYDRA you'd grown used to tuning out the pain for small waves of time, and combined with the adrenaline rushing through your veins, you had no problems putting a psychic bubble around Pietro as he fell to the floor below, just to be sure he wouldn't get hurt.
When Wanda left to do her mind tricks on the Avengers, you jumped down to a slightly dazed Pietro, and Cap giving him blow and telling him to stay down. A strong emotion of protectiveness overcame you and the next thing you know, you're encasing him in a psychic shield and flinging him across the room.
"Pietro!" You exclaimed, rushing to his side, "Pietro, are you okay?"
"Ah," Pietro sighed, shaking his head a little to try and center himself again, "Yeah, yeah I'm good." It wasn't until he had actually moved his head to look at you that he saw the blood staining the white of your attire, and his eyes widened in both worry and fear.
"Princessa," He uttered out, moving closer to you, hands already at your side to inspect the gash "What happened? How bad are you hurt? Which of them did this?"
"I'm fine, silly boy," You shook your head, placing your hands on top his, "When the shield hit me, I fell onto something sharp, that's all. I'll be fine. A rib is definitely broken, but Hydra has done far worse to me, it's nothing I can't handle. I am a tank, very strong." You jokingly flashed your arm muscles to lighten the mood.
Pietro had looked at you skeptically, not fully believing that you were as okay as you were making it seem. There was a good amount of blood still staining your otherwise white top and he couldn't help but question whether or not you were telling him the truth, and the little jump of fear in his heart got the better of him. He held eye contact with you as his grip got just a bit more firm.
"Promise me you'll watch out more, okay?" Pietro practically begged with puppydog eyes that tugged on the strings of your heart just right, "You cannot heal yourself, but you can still use your shields. Care for yourself as I care about you, I've lost a lot, I can't lose you too, okay? Just...promise me?"
"Hey," You spoke softly when you noticed his eyes pooling a little, even as he tried to blink them away, and you moved one of your hands to cup his cheek, "I promise, okay? I'll be more careful."
In all the time you'd shared together, he'd never actually saw you injured before, not even in Hydra. Sure, he could hear it, hear your screams from down the hall, hear your groans of pain when they threw you back into your cell, but he never actually saw anything, and seeing that large cut in your side and all that blood staining your top? It struck a chord in him, and he realized he couldn't live without you.
He also realized he couldn't live without getting to punch Captain America in the face for that whenever he got a chance to.
Which he did, after you two had both gotten up to help Wanda make sure she could spin her webs of fear.
It's a good thing that HYDRA managed to successfully train you in that invisibility thing before you were broken out, because it came in handy when cloaking Wanda from Thor after she had finished putting her spell on him, and Natasha so she wouldn't hear her coming, but you weren't there in time to protect her from Clint. Pietro got there first, literally flinging him across the room after seeing him hurt Wanda (and winning a Best Brother Of The Year Award), and quickly took Wanda to safety to recover.
What Pietro didn't know was that you had lingered behind to bend down to Clint and let him know that it was very mean to electrocute unarmed foes.
"That wasn't very nice of you," You scolded with furrowed brows, "Were you just going to electrocute her to death? I believe that's illegal in what, at least 20 states."
"No offense, but I'm not taking lessons on morality from back alley Shee-Ra." Clint groaned, "Maybe next time if you got the cape on."
"Shee-Ra?!" You nearly screeched with excitement, "You really think so?! I love Shee-Ra--wait, old stuff or new stuff?"
"What?"
"The old Shee-Ra or the new Shee-Ra?" You asked before sighing, "Whatever, it doesn't matter, old man. I'm the original Shee-ra and you, my not-friend, are healed."
What are you-" Clint questions as you put your hands on him, healing the rib he was recovering from. "What?"
"There. That wouldn't have healed on it's own, not properly," You explained calmly, standing back up, "I don't want people dead, I just want my friends to have justice. Please do not do that brain thing again, we are not prisoners on Death Row."
You moved to leave the office you both were in, ready to leave a very confused Clint questioning your motives and true nature, when darkness hit you. Ultron had decided to take you out himself when he saw that you had healed the enemy. From there you were taken onto the jet with the rest of the team; in part to question you, but also to do you the same courtesy you did Clint. If you'd been left there, you would've been killed by Ultron himself.
Clint had explained the whole....encounter to the team, and while they were all wondering why you were really with Ultron then if you'd been so willing to heal Clint, they still kept you in handcuffs. But they put the seatbelt on you too. When you woke up, it was the next day and while everyone had already emptied into the 'Safe House', you were kept in the jet. Naturally, being the enemy is reason enough, and there was no hope for release until one of them came in and started the interrogation.
Wiggling out of the restraints was pointless too, and it hurt. Now you were reminded of your wounds, and as a result their pain now that you didn't have the adrenaline to help. They even parked the jet so they could leave the door open without you actually seeing the house. Nothing but sticks, grass, and branches as far as the eye can see. In the silence, you wondered if your friends made it out okay, if they completed their plan, if they were missing you, what Ultron would tell them both.
Would they forgive you?
Would they kill you if they saw you?
Would Ultron lie?
Was what you did truly so awful?
If you don't get out of here soon you'll never know, you'll die from an infection first. And you were hungry, starved (quite literally). Would they even feed you? Probably not, right? I mean what's the reason to? You're the enemy, allied with people actively trying to destroy them, if anything they should kill you after interrogating you. That's not the style of The Avengers, though. They'll just let you rot either in prison or in a SHIELD cell, where you'll probably be experimented on like you were at HYDRA.
Thor was gone, Natasha was pretty much out of commission, and Tony had been sent to fix a perfectly working tractor, it was left to Steve to question you. Thankfully, Steve came with lunch though, so it made it less anxiety inducing to see him walking up to jet's ramp to set the plate in the seat beside you.
"I know you must be hungry," Steve speaks, releasing you from your handcuffs so you could eat, "When we're done talking, there's a medkit inside, whether you go inside to get it or it's brought to you, depends on you."
You eyed him suspiciously, quietly, wary of his kindness when you should be held prisoner right now. What angle was he working? Was this something that was going to be held over your head later? That's what HYDRA would do. Then they would kill you. Or they would kill your family in front of you, maybe pluck out an eye, and then kill you. The polite smile he offered didn't help either, and you couldn't help but slowly put the plate into your lap, eyeing it for any suspicious activity before returning your gaze to him.
"Why?" You question, not taking a single bite of food until you know for sure it isn't poisoned, "You're being kind. Nice. Why?"
"You don't want to hurt people. I mean sure, you're with the bad guy," Steve shrugs casually, eyeing you, "but...you don't do what the bad guy does. The only time you engaged in combat was when I had hit that guy, and Clint hit Wanda, you were only on defense because you care about them. You weren't hitting to kill."
"You could've thrown me into a sharp pole, or killed Clint when he was down, but you healed him, helped him. Why?" Steve continues his questioning and you look down, pushing the broccoli around.
"You may not have hurt me, mister Rogers, but my friends are angry with you....so I am angry with you," You had begun, "We shared time together, in Hydra."
"Hydra?" Steve questions, and sympathy is written on his features.
You nod.
"Yes. Wanda and Pietro joined of their own accord, but....I didn't." Your brows knitted together, setting the plate back on the seat it was previously on, "They put....things, in me ran tests on me, experiments, I was their Guinea Pig. A rat in their maze. Then Pietro and Wanda joined, and we just...bonded. We went through everything together."
"So you feel obligated to help them?" Steve questions, but you shake your head.
"No." You begin, lifting your head to gaze at the trees, "I mean yes and no; we're friends, so of course I do, but it isn't my only reason. Do you know how horrifying it must be for two kids to sit mere feet from a bomb? Children. Children never deserve to experience that kind of horror, and Stark funded the military's selling of weaponry on the black market for so long, whether he knew it or not is a different story."
"Then what's the other reason?" Steve asks, and you're silent for a moment.
"It's....complicated." You tried to reason when faced with the idea of unpacking everything.
"I was alive during the second World War, and I don't look a day over 30," He spoke, trying to lighten the mood a little before looking at you a bit more sincerely, "I promise, no matter how complicated it is, I've got you."
"Well...Truth be told, for the longest time I didn't have memories before being in Hydra," You confessed, turning your gaze back to the trees, "I couldn't remember who I was, where I came from...who I came from, nothing. All I could remember was Hydra, and all the pain they've caused. I still don't know how long I was kept there, you could tell me I was in there for a thousand years and I'd believe you." You offer a soft chuckle, looking back down at your hands.
"I'm sorry," Steve says sincerely, voice stern, brows knitted together, "You didn't deserve that, I'm sure your family will be happy to know you're okay."
"That's the thing, mister Rogers," You paused for a moment, tears stinging your eyes as a sudden wave of emotions flooded you at the memories you'd been trying hard to forget again this whole time.
It's a bit ironic; you'd been wishing for years for even just a small fragment of a memory from your past, anything before your time in HYDRA. Anything, even just something as simple as a playground in summer, a sandwich made from your mom, anything. You would've killed for it. And now? Now you'd do anything forget them. When you wished for your memories back, you didn't think they'd come with so much pain, so much sorrow.
You were thinking you'd get happy memories; ones of getting an ice cream with your mother on a hot day, or a high school graduation, your mom taking you dress shopping for prom, attending a holiday dinner with family...Instead, what you got were memories of why you were taken in the first place; your mother spending most of your childhood trying to keep you in hiding, and the memory of hearing her screams as you were dragged off into a van before a gunshot was heard.
"Wanda--the witch, when her and Pietro had managed to secure my escape, she..." You took in a deep, shaky breath, "She has many powers, and she's not evil, she's not bad, she's so sweet," You nodded, mostly to yourself, as you looked back up at him, "She helped me remember, gave me my memories back with a single touch, and then shared with me the memories she had when trying to dig up information on my past for me."
"That was...awful nice of her, I'm glad you could get them back." Steve said quietly, hanging onto your every word.
"It was, it is," You nodded again, blinking back tears, "Can you imagine how much it hurts, to wait so long to remember your family, wait with the hope that if you ever escape you can see them again, just to find out they're dead?"
Steve was silent, but his gaze flickered down to his lap for a moment, taking in a breath, before looking back up at you, "I'm sorry, really, I wish it were different for you."
"Me too," Your tears fell freely now, "My mother spend my entire childhood trying to hide me from the men of Hydra, worked herself to death to move us so often, to keep me fed and clothed, and you know who my father was? The person who could've stopped it all?"
Steve was silent for a moment, trying to do the math himself, "Who?"
"None other than billionaire, playboy, philanthropist himself, Tony Stark." You finally confessed.
"You mean-"
"Yes. I mean." You took in another breath, "She tried to talk to him in person, and you know what he did? He had his security throw her out. She tried calling, sending letters, even emails, and guess what the genius of our time tells her?"
Silence fills the air as Steve simmers in shock, trying to take in everything, trying to reason his way through things like he always did to come to his own conclusion. He didn't think you were lying, he's too kind-hearted for that, and your tears of pure agony told him you were truthful. What he was trying to do was figure out if Tony really would do all that, or if maybe it was just a series of misunderstandings.
Steve has a habit of trying to see the best in people who aren't actively trying to destroy the world, and Tony was no different, even despite their differences. He knew HYDRA was serious business, and by extension he knew how difficult it must've been for your mother to keep you hidden from them for so long, and how incredibly strong and intelligent she must've been for doing so.
His brows furrow together as he thinks. No matter what the case is, misunderstandings or not, that's a horrible thing for a kid to live through and an equally horrible thing to be told. He couldn't imagine how it must've felt to be a single mother, trying desperately to keep her child safe from those maniacs, just to be thrown out by the same man who helped bring that child into the world in the first place.
"What does he tell her?" Steve asks, and he almost doesn't want to hear the answer.
"He comes to the apartment we were staying in and tells her that she's crazy and needs serious help. He tells her to stop contacting him, hits her with a restraining order, and then he takes one look at me and then look my mother dead in the eyes and tells her that there's no way a kid like me could've come from him. Says 'that thing isn't my problem', and that if she calls contacts him again he'll have her thrown in prison."
Steve is silent.
"My mother died trying to protect me, to save me from the horrors of that place. She never contacted him again. Stark never bothered to take a DNA test either. So my family is dead, and yes, I have my own motivations for wanting to see the his fall."
"That...That wasn't right, I'm sorry, for everything." Steve says, and steals a glance outside before returning his gaze to you, "Look, you're free to leave the jet, okay? Med-Kit is on the dining table, and Tony's out working on a tractor or something right now so you should be able to dodge him for now. I'll make sure the team knows you're good, okay?"
"Thank you." You speak quietly, returning the smile he gives you before leaving the jet himself.
Leaving you questioning many things, but most of all, what will you do now?
warnings: mentions of blood, reader is a vigilante that can manipulate shadows, uhhhh I don’t think there’s anything else
summary: Hell’s Kitchen has a new vigilante with special abilities. it’s existing vigilante is curious.
author’s note: trying something kinda different,,, honestly once I started I couldn’t stop dkkfks. but this is just some fluff for my favorite guy. hasn’t been proofread yet so beware
You had never intended to fall for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. He was just another masked vigilante, after all— same as you. Just two people with odd abilities dedicated to cleaning up Hell’s Kitchen.
You had come along a few years after he had taken to the streets. He had already been dubbed ‘Daredevil’ by the time you put on the mask. His presence didn’t deter you from your mission, however. He was just an ally, one you hoped would aid you instead of interfere.
At first, he did the latter instead of the former. When word began to get out about another vigilante in Hell’s Kitchen, he hadn’t been happy. It was his city, and he didn’t want another Punisher on the loose. So he had wasted no time in tracking you down one night.
You had been in the middle of stopping a mugging. He kept to the rooftop he was perched upon, face angled down towards the scuffle in the alley below. He could hear your heart beat— a little elevated, but calm. Sure. Steady. You knew what you were doing.
He had a million questions, but he made himself stay put until you had knocked out the last mugger. You tossed the victim’s purse back to her and waved her on without a word. The woman was shaking— he could feel her terror from the rooftop— but she still thanked you profusely as she all but ran out of the alley.
He waited a moment longer, just long enough for you to wipe the blood trickling from your nose, before he dropped to the ground a few feet away. You weren’t surprised— of course you had known he was watching.
“Nice to finally meet you, Daredevil,” your tone was light and somewhat teasing as you ran a hand through your tangled hair. He said nothing, just stood there and took you in.
“I was wondering when you were gonna pop in. Figured it was only a matter of time before you hunted me down,” you shrugged, hands dropping to your sides as you nudged a boot at one of the muggers limp on the ground. Still breathing, but knocked out cold. He took more than a little reassurance in that.
“What are you doing?” He finally spoke, voice all gravel as his chin twitched, following your movements.
“What does it look like?” You said with blatant sarcasm, before clapping a hand to your mouth with a dry chuckle. “Shit, sorry. I’ve heard the rumors. You’re blind,” you waved a hand in the air as you spoke.
“What are you doing?” His tone was more serious now, if not a little forceful. He took a step towards you, the space between your two bodies slowly lessening. You gave him a playful grin as your hands pushed into the pockets of your dirty jeans.
“Trying to help you out. You can’t be in more than one place at the same time. C’mon, I thought you’d at least be a little grateful someone else is—”
He surged forward before you could finish your sentence. His strong arms shoved you back into the brick of one of the buildings, a forearm digging dangerously into your throat as a warning. His teeth were gritted as he spoke, “Stop playing games.”
“You’re very serious,” you told him. He dug his arm further into your throat, straining the chuckle you let out. “Okay, okay,” your voice was slightly hoarse from the pressure of his arm. “My sister used to live here, in Hell’s Kitchen. She was killed last year by some low lives the cops never found. Whatever, that’s besides the point—”
You huffed, startling him as you easily flipped your positions. Now you had him against the wall, face leaning towards his dangerously close as your arm pressed into his throat. A mischievous grin played at your lips as you took in his quick look of surprise.
“I’m out here because I can do something about the shit that goes on in this city. Thought you’d be happy to have someone else to help you out— maybe even patch you up. No strings attached.”
He was silent. You knew he was gauging your response, trying to figure out if you were serious and telling the truth. Rolling your eyes, you released your hold on him and took a step back. His back straightened off the wall, hands clenched to fists at his sides.
“You’re reckless, and stupid. Go home before you get yourself killed.” He told you, but you just shook your head.
“Can’t do that, Devil. So I guess you’ll be seeing me.”
His mouth dropped open, words of protest beginning to spill out, but you were suddenly just… gone. It was as if you’d slipped into the shadows, swallowed whole by the darkness. Completely gone without a trace.
—
You saw him again the next night, and the next, and the next. As much as he seemed to disapprove of you and your work, he couldn’t sate his curiosity. He wanted to know about what you could do— about your abilities that weren’t completely human— but you weren’t one to flaunt, and he wasn’t one to ask.
You were still two strangers in masks. Maybe you grew to be partners, over time, but it took a while for you to share your name with him. It took even longer for him to share his with you— and that only happened because you found him bleeding out on a rooftop.
One second you were holding pressure to his stab wound on the rough concrete of the roof, the next you were helping him onto your worn couch. He was panicking, his senses going haywire at the fact that the two of you had just appeared here— and he didn’t even know where here was.
You had shushed him and fetched a first aid kit from your tiny bathroom. He had tried to get off the couch, but you had shoved him back down and told him to hold still with none of your usual playfulness. He had groaned in protest, but you finally got him to shut up when you poured some alcohol onto his open wound.
Eventually he had passed out from the pain and exhaustion. You had silently stripped him of his suit, eyes avoiding his lean form as you managed to get him into some of your ex’s old sweats. They were a little big on him, but they got the job done.
You settled into your armchair beside the couch, eyes trained on his sleeping form. You had removed his mask to check for any head injuries, and although you knew he’d be mad, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Although you knew next to nothing about the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, you were starting to care for him.
—
He woke late into the next morning with an air of frantic panic about him. You remained unmoving in your chair, eyes still watching him closely. You had stayed up all night, checking his wounds occasionally and making sure he was still breathing. His head turned towards you as he finally registered the familiar pounding of your heart.
“Where am I? How did we get here? We were on the roof and then—”
“We’re in my apartment. I brought you here. You’re gonna live, by the way,” you told him with a roll of your eyes. He shot up on the couch, a hand flying to his chest as he felt his stitched cuts.
“Where’s my suit?” He asked. You rolled your eyes again. He needs to get his priorities in order, you thought to yourself.
“I tried to patch it up best I could. It’s in the other room.” He made to move, but you leaned forward and placed a hand on his clothed chest, pushing him back into the cushions. “You can’t move right now Devil, you’ll pop a stitch. And I did pretty good at fixing you up, so if you ruin my work, I’m gonna be pissed.”
He huffed a small laugh, head shaking in disbelief. You could tell he was starting to settle as he slowly relaxed back into the couch, a hand reaching up to run through his matted and messy hair.
“My name is Matt.” He told you after a few minutes of silence. His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. You nodded although he couldn’t see— a subconscious gesture as you processed this new information.
“It’s nice to finally know your name, Matt.” You told him, mostly joking, but with a hint of sincerity in your voice. It was not lost on him.
That rare grin you almost never got to see from him flickered onto his mouth as he chuckled. “Guess we’re even now, huh? You know mine and I know yours.”
You hummed in response, posture slackening in your armchair. Exhaustion was beginning to creep in on you, but you refused to give into it. He could tell, but he didn’t say anything. Silence filled the air once more as the two of you sat there.
Finally, he circled back to the question you knew he was dying to know the answer to.
“How did we get here?”
You inhaled deeply, hands clasping together in your lap. “I brought us here. I found you on that roof, bleeding out and basically dead— and I knew you didn’t have a lot of time, so I had to get you here fast. I know you know about my abilities— at least you know of them— they aren’t really something I like to share about. Anyways, I used the shadows to get us here. I can… control them. Use them to cloak myself or transport myself without anyone knowing. That’s what I did with you.”
The room was quiet as yours words turned over in his mind. Odd, yes— but impossible? No. Matt had seen crazier. He slowly nodded his head, turning to face you. Your eyes met his.
“Thank you,” he said, and meant it completely.
“Anytime,” you responded with the same sincerity.
—
After you had saved him and told him about your powers, the dynamic between the two of you shifted. There were more feelings there— unspoken, but painfully obvious. He began to open up to you more, and you to him. You learned about him as Matt, and you were enjoying it.
It was scary, and it was messy, but it was free and perfect in its own way. You knew each other wholly— knew each other’s darkness and secrets and pain. You told him more about your sister. He helped you find her killers. He told you about his anger that flamed in his veins and could never be extinguished. You helped him quell it.
You knew it wasn’t smart to get romantically attached to him— but he made it so damn hard with that smug smirk and those soft touches. He was always so gentle with you after a night on patrol— his hands would smooth over your skin and scars and dance across your torso as he patched you up. You were falling for him dangerously fast and hard, and it was the same for him.
He knew your heartbeat like the palm of his hand. He would check in on it throughout the day and whenever the two of you were separated. Sometimes he would catch himself listening to the steady rhythm to fall asleep at night.
“Wherever you go,” he had told you once as the two of you laid in his bed. “I will always find you. I will always hear you. Always,” he promised. And he meant it.
You had never meant to fall for the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen— but you were so glad you had.
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Peter x Male!Reader
Summary: Ice powers do certainly have their benefits - such as allowing cuddles on awfully hot days.
Request: I don't know if you're taking requests but if you are could I please request a peter parker x male reader where the reader has ice powers and there's a major heatwave or the heaters in the compound are broke and everyone is trying to deal with the heat and Peter lactches himself to the reader to stay cold (I love your work btw)
It was awfully warm. It was boiling.
You, of course, were unfazed. You had gotten used to using your powers to keep your body at the optimal temperatures depending on the exterior weather.
So as your body was surrounded by the hot weather, it was comfortably cold.
“Heatwaves suck!” Peter complained, falling down onto the couch beside you.
The others around you seemed to agree. “Shame about the AC breaking down,” Bucky said, wincing as he shifted his metal arm. You supposed the metal was conducting heat and burning his skin.
Well, that just couldn’t do.
You got up and moved over to Bucky, aware of how people were staring at you. Neither you or Bucky interacted a lot, just the odd words every so often. You touched the parts where the metal and skin connected and you saw the relief on his face. He had definitely been in pain. You weren’t all that surprise. Metal conducted heat, and that had to hurt the flesh it connected to.
It was probably definitely worth the eager shouts from the others asking you to do similar things to them.
But none of them were quite as quick as your boyfriend, of course. You supposed not even Quicksilver could have gotten to you as quick.
The thing about Peter’s abilities also means that his bodyweight is a lot lighter than anyone thinks. Peter managed to jump over everyone and latched onto you like he was a backpack. Amused smile on your face, you chilled your body a little further and Peter’s grip tightened, as if he was trying to get as much cold as possible.
You had barely rocked on your feet when Peter had landed on you. All you did was make sure that he didn’t fall, but his arms around your neck and legs around your hips proved he was not going to move from you. Not that you were going to complain. It did stop the other Avengers in their tracks, which had been funny enough. Maybe only Tony had been aware of the two of you being involved with each other.
Tony knew nearly everything when it came to Peter. The others? Not so much.
It was terribly warm. But the sound Peter made when he had finally gotten into contact with your skin was … perhaps not the most appropriate. Especially in front of so many adults, including his parental figure. You were surprised the blood hadn’t rushed to your cheeks.
“Uh,” Peter said when he realised he had verbally reacted. “He’s so cold, I love it.”
“I’m like Jack Frost,” you said, shrugging a shoulder before cooling down the room as best as you could.
So yeah, you had made everyone a little colder, but Peter got the most of it; he was latched onto you.
“You’re the best,” Peter said quietly as you sat on the back of the couch, feet digging into the cushions. Bucky was amused. Peter was still like a monkey, tight on your back. Bucky was on your right, having shifted a little on the couch to accommodate the pair of you. Like everyone else, he seemed quite amused at the spider monkey on you.
You smiled slightly, and put a cold hand on his thigh, taking away most of the unwanted heat.
And if Peter said something else that warmed your heart, then no-one else heard it. (Except maybe Bucky.)
Your first encounter with your target Venom, isn’t what you had hoped.
PART ONE: HERE
You stood in the shadows of the bank back alleyway, listening carefully to the sound of police sirens at the front of the building and clutching a ski mask you had bought off ebay. Your nerves had finally hit you when you made it to the bank, and suddenly you were wondering if breaking into a crime scene to find Venom was really a good idea. There HAD to be a better way, but after months of nothing could you really pass up this opportunity?
You stared at the mask in your black gloved hands. You really didn’t have a plan here. The furthest you had thought this mission through was wearing all black so no-one could tell it was you, and that was it. No escape plan, no idea of the bank layout, and absolutely no idea how you were going to get to Venom without your head getting bitten off.
You lamented Eddie having to leave and go to work, because deep down you know, if he had stayed at dinner, you would have ignored the Venom report, and that left you feeling conflicted. How could one man have changed your plans and life in such a short time? It was like you had wondered blindly from your horror movie past into a rom-com, and no matter how much you wanted to be the romantic lead, the daily nightmares and atrocities you remembered always kept you from believing that you would get a happy ending. Which is why you NEEDED to find Venom, to finally have closure, to put an end to the Life Foundation that haunted your very soul.
“Okay, let’s do this.” You mumbled in an attempt to psych yourself up, as you slipped the woollen mask over your head. You had to stifle a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever imagine yourself breaking into a bank, but then again life is rarely ever what we expect.
You snuck through the shadows to the back entrance, ready to bust open the door. After all, locks were your plaything now. You had learned quickly that for your powers to work, your will and intent must be stronger than what you are moving, and all the locked doors you had met had a pretty weak will. So this should be a piece of cake.
As you stretched out a gloved hand to the door, ready to have it bow to your will, you noticed it was ajar.
“Oh.” You murmured, feeling slightly embarrassed. Of course the bank robbers had used the back entrance, they wouldn’t be very good at their jobs if they used the front, now would they?
Slipping through the entrance you were surprised at how dark it was inside, even though it made sense for thieves to not want blaring lights around advertising their presence, it was still WAY too dark. The only reason you were not completely blind was because of the crack in the door letting in light from the outside.
Your eyes strained against the dark corridor you were stood in. You had no idea where to go next, after all you weren’t going to risk having ‘San Fransisco National Bank schematics’ on your internet history, you had to try and limit your traceable presence here as much as possible, you were never being locked up again…
You let out a shaky breath as you started to take tentative steps into the darkness, making sure to keep one hand pressed against the wall, so you would know when there were breaks and turns in your path.
As you walked blindly through the long hallways, taking turns when they were given, and just hoping you were taking the right ones, you couldn’t help but feel terrified. Like you were in danger. Not ‘breaking into a bank when there are cops outside’ danger, but serious ‘horror movie any step wrong could be your last’ danger. It was starting to wear on your nerves. That’s when you realised what was seriously wrong with this situation…
The building was silent.
The only sounds in the bank were your footsteps and shallow breathing. If there was in fact a robbery in process shouldn’t there be criminals making noise? And what about the police? Not one officer was inside the building trying to restore order? What was going on?
As you slowly took another corner you once again wished you were back in your apartment having dinner with Eddie. Something was wrong here. It wasn’t at all like you had expected. You expected running, shooting, yelling and distractions, enough to get in without someone noticing and find Venom. That’s what it had been like when you escaped the Life Foundation, minus Venom of course, but this was NOTHING like that scenario, and the silence was killing you.
That’s when you heard it, the sound of hushed voices and a faint click. You followed it slowly down the wall, until your hand fell upon a door, one of the first you had come across. Behind it was the source of the sound. As you pressed your ear against the hard wooden door, you listened intensely. Heavy breathing was permeating from behind the wooden barrier, it sounded panicked but strained. Like when you desperately try to hide the fact that you are crying from someone. Whoever it was, was scared and in trouble. You knew what you had to do.
Lightly you knocked on the door, before trying the handle. You carefully opened the door by a crack.
“Hello?” You whispered, entering the room with caution.
Suddenly arms came from the darkness beside you and pulled you down, quickly covering your mouth with their hand. You panicked as you watched another figure in the darkness quickly run to close the door, standing with it’s back pressed against the old wood.
“Shut the fuck up!” A hushed voice growled from behind you.
For about three of the tensest minutes of your life, nobody said anything, hell you were unsure if anyone in the room was even breathing.
Your theory seemed to be confirmed when the man holding the door let out the quietest sigh of relief you had ever heard. As he slid slowly to the floor, the person behind you finally let you go. Your knees began to throb with pain from the sudden violent drop, you never regretted not wearing knee pads more than in this moment. Whilst you were trying to sooth your quickly bruising flesh the two men in the dark both came to look at you with confusion and anger.
“Who the fuck are you?!” The man bracing the door whisper yelled. Through the dark you could make out he was wearing a security guard uniform but with the distinct fabric of a face mask bunched around his neck. You concluded that that was how the thieves had gotten in. Pretending you worked there had to work better than the obvious ‘robber’ get up you were currently sporting. You made a note to be embarrassed about your fashion faux pas later, after you weren’t crouched in a dark room, with two bank robbers.
“I’m uhhhh. I’m…here to help?” You didn’t want to admit to these men the real reason you were breaking in, plus they seemed genuinely terrified, so you felt sorry for them.
“How the fuck are you supposed to help? Huh?! There’s a fucking MONSTER out there!” The second mans voice raised, and was quickly shh’d by the man at the door.
“There is a monster out there eating us. And you wanna fucking help? You’re a girl. What the fuck are you gonna do?” His voice lowered again, but the anger was still there, along with a small hint of arrogance.
For one brief moment you considered leaving these men to their fates, clearly they had pissed Venom off, and the old saying was ‘Crime doesn’t pay’, but you knew deep down you’d never be able to live with yourself if you just left these men to die.
“I know the way out.” You said matter-of-factly, your own sense of smugness taking over.
“What? Really?” Door Guy asked.
“Yeah, the back door was just open.”
“Fucking Marcus must have got out…Prick.” Once again the arrogant man seemed to get angry, you were starting to believe that was his natural state.
“Maybe you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” You snarked at him. His eyebrow twitched along with his palm, you knew he had just had the urge to hit you. You’d met men like him in the facility, so many in fact that you were thinking about taking just Door Guy with you to safety.
But you had to be the better person.
You stood up, sweeping dirt from the floor off your butt, and said with all the cheesiness of a bad 80’s movie star.
“Come with me if you want to live.”
Surprisingly Door Guy let out a brief, faint chuckle, as he too stood up, getting ready to go with you. You were glad, being scared for too long can do serious damage to a persons mind, so even if it was only for a second you smiled knowing you had eased that fear a little.
“Fine.” Arrogant Man growled, raising up from his slump. “But if Venom finds us. I’m leaving you behind.” He poked his long hard pointer finger into the middle of your chest. You wanted to punch him in the face, and tell him not to touch you, but you knew that would draw unwanted attention. So you pushed your anger down, trying so hard to ignore the arrogant asshole, but in doing so, the floor started giving off faint but noticeable vibrations and the lights in the room flickered on and off.
The lights caused the two men to panic, Arrogant Man quickly removed his finger, and frantically looked around.
“Wha…what the fuck is that?” He panicked.
“V…Venom?” Door Guy questioned.
“We have to go. NOW!” You commanded, leaving the room. Praying that only your rooms lights had been effected by your anger.
“This way.” You motioned to your scared thieves.
You quickly led the men back the way you came, going at a quick but quiet pace. The fear was one more palpable, in all three of you.
‘You’ve really fucked up.’ That’s all you could think as you retraced your steps back to the exit. You’d finally had a good day, in the sea of darkness your life had become, you’d gotten so close, but now you’d have to go back to the drawing board and find a safer, less terrifying way of getting to Venom. A way which had less possibilities of casualties.
“So was it just you guys and Marcus?” You questioned. Pausing to gather your bearings before moving on once more.
“No…There were six of us.” Door Guy lamented. “We…We didn’t think he was real. You know. A fairy tale that the news had made up.” He sounded broken.
“And what about the police?” You looked back briefly. “They’re just sitting outside the front of the building.”
“Yeah because they fucking want us dead! Pigs!” Arrogant Man seethed.
“What?!” You questioned disbelievingly.
“The first responders retreated when Venom burst through the skylight in the main floor. We haven't seen them since, we were too busy running.” Door Guy choked out.
“I’m…I’m sorry.” It was all you could think to say. Yes they were criminals, but did they really deserve to become Venoms dinner? You shook the thought from your head, now was not the time for philosophical and sociological debates, especially when you could hear something, loud and heavy coming up fast behind you.
“Guys…run!” You yelled as you turned the corner spotting the still open back door. The light that poured into the dark hallways, even if it was just a crack, was a beacon of hope and a promise of safety. You just had to get there first.
All three of you bolted towards the exit as fast as your legs could carry you, as what sounded like a hungry laugh bellowed out from the darkness behind you.
“Keep going!” You panted out.
“No shit!” Arrogant Man replied. His strides bringing him to the front of the group now. It was then when he turned and punched you in the face, the force of the hit causing you to slam into the wall and fall. You’re world instantly becoming a garbled mess, as you tried to find your equilibrium again.
“Davies!” Door Guy yelled. Stopping for a moment to look at you, crumpled on the floor.
“What!? Bitch isn’t a part of this. She wants to help, she can distract it!” He stated, once more taking off towards the exit.
Door Guy looked between you and the arrogant douche now known as Davies.
“Sorry.” Door Guy apologized and ran off with his friend.
The pounding steps of your pursuer, got louder and closer, you tried to focus, to will yourself up. But a warm liquid sensation running down your forehead told you that that hit was harder than you thought.
With bleary eyes you focused on the light of the exit, so close yet so far away. You watched with betrayal as the blurry image of the two men you had found opened the door wide.
Took their strides towards freedom.
Abandoning you.
The steps in the dark were now on top of you. This was it. The End.
You braced yourself.
But nothing happened.
You opened your eyes carefully just as a gush of air flew past your face. Something big diving through the darkness at the two men.
It happened so fast.
A quick blunt impact, a explosion of red against the open night, a falling headless body, and finally a blood curdling scream.
You pulled yourself up. Ignoring the throbbing pain and the vertigo your injury had induced.
You took slow steps forward, your hand finding comfort and grip on the hard wall beside you. Until the light from outside was all your could see.
Your eyes adjusted to the scene in front of you. Davies was huddled against the back wall of the alley way. His face was painted in red, his expression more contorted than you thought was ever possible. You followed his gaze to Door Guy. Well what was left of him.
Everything from the waist up was gone. Devoured by the creature on top of the puddle of red.
A hulking mass of shiny black. White veins rippling through it’s muscles, showing without a doubt it’s immense strength. And it’s face, so predatory. Like something from the deep abyss of the Mariana Trench.
This was what you had been looking for.
This was Venom.
AN: Sorry this took so long, as some of you know my father passed away whilst writing this exact chapter (like literally the same day) so it took a while to be able to come back.
