mcu_kink_meme | Prompt Post #1

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Prompt Post #1

Welcome to the brand spanking new MCU Kink Meme!

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I really want extensive, detailed fic on how Bucky's first steps in relearning self-care is cleaning and conditioning his beautiful silky hair. Did you see that shine??? How manageable, how it flowed in the wind even after catastrophic chase scenes? Even after hours of hat-hair, are you kidding me! Sure he had to look like a vagrant but his locks were nothing like that stringy mess in CATWS. And yes, you can do that in a sink, if you have dedicated attention to detail and the vague memory that your hair used to be the envy of the neighborhood.

Rhody woke to find Sam sitting at his bedside.

One of his leg braces was held carefully in the German shepherd’s mouth, the dog’s tail wagging cheerfully as he blinked up at him.

“What's up, Sam,” he yawned. “You want me up?”

Sam responded by setting the brace on the bed and turning to fetch the other one.

Rhody pushed himself upright, stretching his arms up over his head with a yawn. A quick glance at the clock showed that it was just after seven, and he allowed himself a moment to blink sleepily at the wall until Sam returned with his other brace.

“Yep, I’m coming.”

Sam sat down at his bedside, watching as he hefted first one leg and then the other over the edge to rest on the floor.

“Need some clothes,” he muttered to himself, rubbing sleep from his eyes as Sam hopped up and walked away, claws skittering on the floor.

Before Rhody could think to look for his sweatpants, Sam had returned to his bedside, said article of clothing in his mouth.

“Thanks, bud,” he groaned, leaning to grab them from the dog. The German Shepherd stood patiently, tail wagging as Rhody maneuvered his legs into the pants and fastened the braces on with a groan. His joints all ached as he leaned over, sore from an unbalanced strain that they were unused to bearing now that his legs didn’t work.

“Sam, I’m getting old,” he confided to the dog as he straightened up again. The German Shepherd gave no reply, and Rhody got slowly to his feet, making his way toward the kitchen.

“Let me check what we’ve got for breakfast. How does sausage and biscuits sound?”

Sam barked, his tail whipping from side to side as he trotted at Rhody’s heels.

Rhody opened the fridge and peered inside, only to remember that he still hadn’t gone shopping, and he closed the door again with a sigh as he let his head rest against the front of it with a groan.

Biscuits from scratch it was.

Well, at least he had sausage.

He ambled sleepily over to the cabinet, digging out the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, shortening, and some spices, and laying them out along the counter before grabbing a wooden spoon from a drawer. He crossed the kitchen to grab a bowl from the drying rack, dodging awkwardly around Sam as the dog stood up on his hind paws to see what was going on at the counter, his tail moving in large, sweeping wags.

He measured approximately two cups of flour into the bowl, going by eye more than by the lines on the measuring cup, the way his mother had taught him. Three big spoonfuls of baking powder, pinch of baking soda, pinch of salt, stir it all together for a minute, and then a heaping spoonful of shortening right in the middle.

Sam let out a confused whine as Rhody started kneading the shortening through the flour, and he looked up with a raised brow.

“What, your Mama never taught you the right way to make biscuits?”

The dog snorted, dropping back to all fours to pace the kitchen in little clicking steps.

“They’re gonna be damn good,” Rhody muttered after the dog. “Just you wait.”

Sam let out one of his whining half-barks that almost sounded like he was speaking, and Rhody couldn’t help the smile that tugged up at his lips.

“What did I say about sassing me?”

Sam didn’t reply, instead going to explore something in the living room as Rhody hobbled to the fridge and retrieved the gallon of milk. Pouring some into the bowl, he mixed until he had a dough, and then began to roll out biscuits and line them up on the counter.

Sam reappeared as he was spraying a cookie sheet down with non-stick, and the dog sneezed as the aerosol butter reached his nose.

“Bless you.”

Sam let out a little snort, returning to wandering the kitchen aimlessly as Rhody started humming some tuneless melody.

Ignoring the German Shepherd that was pacing around him like a shark circling its prey, Rhody turned on the oven and started to line the biscuits up on the tray, spacing them out and pressing them down a little to give them the right shape.

Sam tied to stick his head into the fridge when Rhody went for the sausage, and he scooped an arm around the dog’s chest to pull him back so he wouldn’t get closed in the door.

“Hang on, I’m trying.”

Sam let out a little huff, moving to lie beneath the table with his head on his paws, watching Rhody open up the sausages and load them into a frying pan.

He checked the freezer on a whim and found that he actually had half a bag of frozen, grated hash browns in back, and he turned around to face Sam with the bag held high in victory.

The dog simply tilted his head to the tide in question, and Rhody turned his attention back to cooking with a shrug.

“Well, I’m excited.”

He turned to face the stovetop as he set out another pan for the hash browns, leaning back as the ice on the potatoes made them hiss and pop with the heat. He could hear Sam get up and start moving around behind him, but paid him no attention, focusing instead on breaking up the frozen chunk of hash browns.

The oven beeped as it finally got up to temperature, and Rhody set the spatula aside, wrapping a kitchen towel around his hand to protect it from the heat as he opened the oven door. There was a little scramble of movement from behind him, and Rhody turned around with a frown.

He looked down to find one of the biscuits missing off the corner of the tray, and the sticky sound of something being chewed drew his attention to where Sam was hiding under the table, working his jaw.

“Sam, you damn moron, I have to cook those first,” he called, trying to keep a stern face as Sam struggled to gnaw through the raw dough. The dog shot him a look that was not apologetic in the least, swallowing the dough in a large lump.

Shaking his head, Rhody slipped the tray into the oven and gave the frying pan another shake to move the sausage around.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick.”

Rhody left the pan to sizzle over the heat and poked his head into the cabinet, looking through the sparse, half-empty spice jars. Shopping trip needed to happen today, definitely.

He didn’t have any onions, so onion powder was going to have to do, and he set out the required jars on the counter before moving to add a number of spices to the grocery list he’d started last night. That done, he returned his attention to the stove, grabbing up his spatula once more.

He fished a little piece of potato out of the pan, blowing on it to cool it off before tasting it, and turned to grab the salt from the counter behind him. His arm was outstretched too far, however, and he knocked it off of the counter as he reached for it.

“Shit,” Rhody muttered, turning to look for the salt shaker as he heard it roll away.

The floor behind him was clear when he checked, however, and he was just about to try to crouch low enough to search beneath the table when he felt something cold and wet press against his hand.

He turned to find Sam sitting at his feet, offering the salt shaker back to him with a wagging tail.

“Hey, thanks,” he grinned. “You're a great help, you know that?”

Sam dropped the salt shaker into his hand and barked.

“Or are you just trying to make me hurry my ass up and get you some food?”

Sam simply continued to sit at his side, wagging his tail expectantly, and Rhody huffed out a laugh.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He shook a generous amount of salt on the hash browns, adding some pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, and a touch of chili powder to the pan as well. The resulting smell was enough to make his mouth water, and he stirred everything around to make sure that all the potato shreds were well and fully coated in the spices.

“Tell you what, Sam, for not having any food in the house, I think this is gonna turn out damn tasty.”

The dog made a small noise of eager anticipation from behind him, and Rhody grinned, stirring the pot again.

He took a moment to shift the pan that the sausage was in, dropping the heat down to keep it warm as the other two things finished up. A little while later, the oven went off with a beep, and when Rhody turned to fetch the kitchen towel he found Sam already sitting at his feet, the cloth held gently in his mouth.

“You're helping me out, aren't you?” Rhody asked, ruffling the German shepherd’s ears as he wrapped the towel around his hand. “Thanks, bud.”

Being careful of the door, he eased the tray of biscuits out of the oven, setting them on the stovetop to cool a little as he turned off the heat.

“Almost ready, Sam, I promise,” he grinned as he felt the dog press against his side. “You great big black hole, you…”

The German Shepherd snorted at that, turning to go seat himself in one of the chairs at the table, tail wagging as he waited to be served.

Rhody dropped two of the biscuits onto a plate, scooping up a generous helping of the hash browns and sausage to load on top before finally crossing to the dog and setting it down in front of him.

“Here you are, your majesty,” he laughed, ruffling Sam’s ears before going back to grab a serving for himself. “Try to remember to breathe between bites.

Despite the warning, Sam had already cleared half his plate by the time Rhody had turned off the oven and made his way back to the table with his own plate full of food.

Sam glanced up at him, licking his lips as his tail wagged happily, and Rhody smiled.

“Told you it was gonna be good.”

The dog nodded, returning to his breakfast. Without further distraction, Rhody picked up his form and dug in as well.

The two remained relatively quiet throughout their meal, simply enjoying the food and each other’s company as the sounds of their neighbors waking up in the apartments around them drifted through the walls.

A timid knock on his front door interrupted them halfway through their meal, and Rhody stuffed one final forkful of sausage in his mouth before beginning the slow process of getting to his feet and making his way toward the main hall.

He opened the door to find his landlady – a short, elderly white woman with coke-bottle glasses and a round face – smiling up at him.

“Good morning, Mrs. Carvers,” he said, subtly wiping crumbs off of his hand on the back of his pants, aware that he probably looked like he’d just dragged his ass out of bed. “What can I do for you?”

“Good morning, Mister Rhodes,” she said, her expression giving nothing away. “I just had a complaint from Mr. Liu upstairs about you breaking the apartment code. He claims that you have an unregistered pet living in the apartment.”

Rhody mentally cursed his upstairs neighbor, the nosy old bastard.

“Um,” Rhody choked out. “Well, you see-“

And of course, that was the moment that Sam decided to waltz around the damn corner to come see what was going on.

“Oh, look at you!” his landlady cooed, and Rhody stepped back out of the doorway to let her by as she made a beeline for Sam. “What a sweet puppy…who’s a good boy?”

Sam’s ears perked in surprise as he suddenly found his face grabbed up, but his tail began wagging sheepishly as the elderly woman began planting kisses on his muzzle and head, cooing compliments at him.

“What a pretty boy you are…oh yes, what a good boy.”

“I just got him last night,” Rhody lied, taking advantage of her distraction to get his thoughts in order. “Office was closed by the time I got back, so I planned to take him down first thing this morning and register him.”

In all honesty he’d forgotten about needing to register Sam, but at least Mrs. Carvers seemed to like him, so perhaps she’d let it slide.

“It was kind of a last-minute thing,” he shrugged, watching her ruffle Sam’s ears.

“That’s wonderful. Is he going to be your service dog?”

“Yes,” Rhody replied quickly, jumping on the excuse the second she presented it. “He’s here to help me out with everything. Pick things up and open doors and stuff.”

“That’s so good to hear.”

“Yeah, it’s gonna be a big help.”

“He’s such a good boy.”

“Yeah, he really is.”

“I’m glad they finally came through with something to assist you,” his landlady smiled, straightening up and patting him on the arm as she made her way to the door, Sam trailing at her heels and still looking to be petted. “I’ll have Linda prepare the paperwork and leave it in your mailbox. Just be sure to keep him on a leash outside, and he needs to have his collar and some type of identification on at all times.”

“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll make sure that happens, Ma’am. Thank you for stopping by.”

He waved to the woman as she hobbled off down the sidewalk, then closed the door and turned to Sam with a raised eyebrow.

“You should have kept your ass in the kitchen. What if there was a no-dog policy here, huh?”

Sam let out a snort, turning to make his way back over to the table as Rhody watched him leave, shaking his head.

The rest of breakfast went by fairly quietly, with only the occasional whine from Sam as he begged for more. Afterward, the dog sat at his feet, licking grease from his muzzle happily as Rhody cleared their plates away.

Rhody glanced down at himself, debating for a second if he should go change before figuring that sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt would be considered clothing enough to drop by the front office in.

“Come on, Sam,” he sighed as the dog vanished into the living room. “Let’s get down to the office and get you registered.”

Sam returned a moment later, meeting Rhody in the walkway with one of his shoes in his mouth, and set it at his feet before running off to retrieve the other. He brought his leash in next, just as Rhody was finishing tying the laces, and he clipped it onto the dog’s collar before pushing himself awkwardly to his feet.

“Okay. I’m good. Let’s go.”

The air outside was a little crisp still, the sun just having finished burning the dew off of every surface, and he took a long moment to bask in the warmth as Sam sniffed around his front lawn curiously.

The scratch of dirt from behind him had Rhody turning around a second later, and he whistled sharply at Sam when he found the dog eyeball-deep in his front garden.

“Hey! Get your nose out of my strawberries! You want to dig something up, go dig up the stupid flowers that Mr. Liu is growing in front of the tomato trellis.”

Sam sat up, his had tilting comically as he considered this for a moment, and Rhody had to bite back a laugh as Sam trotted over to the orange flowers and began heaving up pawfuls of soil.

“Easy now, not too much. I was kidding. That dude’s already got it out for you. Just dig up a couple. We’ll bring them to the lady at the front desk.”

Sam obligingly grabbed the few snapped stems up in his mouth, trotting back to Rhody’s side to drop them in his hand, and Rhody felt a big smile creeping over his face.

"You know, Sam,” he said, scratching the dog behind an ear before turning to lead the way to the main office. “I should get you a service animal vest.”

The German Shepherd snorted, but his tail was wagging frantically as he padded patiently along at Rhody’s side.

“Let’s see that nosy old jerk get on our case then, huh?”

Sam barked once in reply, and Rhody just laughed.

Yes. The state of Bucky's hair is incredibly important to me. It was so shiny! He took such good care of it!

Hey you lovely kink memers, just letting you know I'm still around. I can't tell you how happy I was to see this place reactivate. Keep on promptin' and fillin' <3

Glad to be here, and happy to see that the mod is still around!

...lol I love it. I hadn't even noticed how much it improved!

Oooh, this is an interesting prompt, and something I've wondered about myself.

I am such a sucker for this pair tbh.

After watching back through Age of Ultron and seeing him try to keep them out of the fighting and hidden away somewhere safe, I really need a fic of Dr. Strucker being very overprotective of Wanda and Pietro.

+the two don't even realize they've fallen in with HYDRA because Dr. Strucker doesn't let any of the other HYDRA goons near them
++he refers to them as his little miracles

Time for a bit of "roll the dice" prompting...

Let's have Bucky and Dr. Strange locked in a closet.

Steve/Bucky. When Bucky realizes that after all these years, after all what's happened, Steve still can't dance, he decides to teach him himself. Steve learns swing dancing fast, with the right partner. With their superhuman athleticism they find out they excel at the acrobatics and aerials in Lindy hop and the like.

Bonus if they get to showcase their moves.

Hi, mod! Also glad to see you're still around and glad to see the comm coming back to life!

Wanda stared down into her lap, focused on keeping her breathing steady as her hands strangled her leash into tangled knots in front of her.

As they had eaten, more people had come to sit by them, and Wanda currently had a sharply-dressed soldier in the seat immediately beside hers as well as directly across from her. It was as if they'd all clustered to be nearby. Which, given what Ross had said earlier, perhaps they had, but it was still ringing in her nerves as "danger."

Ross had tried to reassure her a few more times as the table had gotten more crowded, all to no avail, and the man was currently glancing back at her every few seconds with his expression radiating pity.

"Pet, I promise you, no one here is going to hurt you," he murmured for what must have been the thousandth time, finishing up a cup of coffee.

She nodded a little to show she'd heard, not lifting her gaze from her lap.

Even if they weren't going to hurt her outright with him sitting guard at her side, it still worried her to be helpless in what could easily be a crowd of enemies. The uneasy feeling would not shake off.

She strangled another knot into her leash, her fingers caught through the material as she wound it tighter, tighter, tighter...

"Pet," Ross scolded lightly, and Wanda let the tangled leash fall from her fingers.

Ross had given up on her eating anything about ten minutes ago and had allowed the servers to clear her nearly untouched plate away, so she didn't have anything to take up her attention as an excuse not to make eye contact with anyone around her. She couldn't even look around the hall for fear of catching the eye of someone sitting too close to her.

Wanda took a slow breath, trying to calm her nerves as her fingers itched to grab the leash once more.

She jumped as Ross' phone went off with a little ding and he dug it out to look at whatever message he'd received, staring for a few seconds before muttering a curse. He then turned and gave her a long look, which she glanced up to meet for a few seconds before returning her gaze to her lap. The man let out a slow breath in response.

She heard him mutter something about trial by fire as he stood, but to her surprise he placed a hand on her shoulder before she could follow, keeping her in her seat.

"I have to run and get something. Wait right here for me, okay?" Ross murmured, putting a little pressure on her shoulder in a silent command to stay. He unhooked the leash from her collar, and it took all of Wanda's willpower not to whirl around right there and stare at him in shock.

He was trusting her off the lead? On day two?

She didn't move as Ross straightened up and took a step back, but she did go tense as he cleared his throat to get the attention of the soldiers eating around her.

"Would you boys look after her for me?" he asked, and the young men at the table nodded, murmuring "yes, Sir" in reply. Wanda ducked her head, feeling her cheeks burn.

Oh.

She was being allowed off her lead, yes, but she was going to be well supervised. There would be no escape for her.

And worse, her only protector had just left.

Wanda whirled around as that particular thought hit her, panic bubbling in her gut.

The words "take me with you" caught halfway up her throat, settling in a burning lump at the base of her neck as she watched Ross leave her alone with all of the soldiers.

Oh God. Oh God, no.

No, no, no-!

Wanda focused her attention back down into her lap, refusing to make eye contact with anyone around her as she tried to force herself to keep calm.

Perhaps if she stayed quiet and unobtrusive they'd just ignore her.

She didn't trust Ross very much, especially with all she'd heard from Steve and Natasha and Clint about him, but watching him walk away from her had left something cold and hollow sitting in the center of her chest, aching.

She felt like she'd been abandoned.

She forced herself to take a slow breath when she realized that she was starting to panic, wringing her hands together in her lap.

Oh, God, she couldn't do this for much longer. She just wanted to run back to her room and hide where she couldn't be seen...

"Maximoff."

Wanda jumped a little in surprise as one of the young men said her name, and it took her a long second to realize that he'd read it off her name tag.

"Is that Russian? Or...?" he prompted after a second, and Wanda swallowed hard, forcing words to her lips as he continued to stare expectantly.

"Sokovian."

"Ah. That explains it," he smiled. "You've even got the accent."

"Is English your second language, then?" another asked, and Wanda nodded without looking up.

Her partial answers seemed to be the cue for the other men to break their watchful silence, and Wanda quickly found herself the center of attention.

"Is reading in English harder than reading in Sokovian?"

A nod from her.

"Do you listen to American music?"

Another nod.

"Have you been in the US for very long?"

She shook her head.

"What rank are you?"

A little shrug.

She answered a few more questions as non-committally as she could, keeping her frightened silence with a guarded wariness as the young men edged closer, their curiosity getting the better of them.

"You new to base?"

Nod.

"You get someone to show you around yet?"

Nod.

"Would you like something to drink? Eat?"

Head shake.

"You sure? It's no problem..."

A more pronounced head shake.

"Think she's shy, or just scared?" she heard one of the young men murmur to his friend off to her right.

"Not sure. Probably scared. The General is pretty tough, he may not want her talking to us too much."

"Well, that sucks."

"You're tellin' me."

"You know if you're going to be staying here for long?" someone asked from over her shoulder, and Wanda replied with another shrug, trying not to curl into herself.

They all seemed to be avoiding the obvious questions about her being a pet - there was no way they hadn't noticed her collar, and the young men earlier had mentioned rumors going around the base even before she arrived - but it didn't help her nerves any. Her hands were still trembling where she had them clenched together in her lap, and she felt about ready to pass out.

"So...should we call you Miss Maximoff? Or would it just be Miss Wanda?"

Wanda went stiff at that question.

She hadn't told anyone her first name.

She darted a glance up, trying to find who had spoken. A thin, mousy, red-haired man with freckles was watching her intently from a few seats down, and had the sleeve of his uniform shoved up just far enough on his left side to show the bottom half of a tattoo on his bicep - a symbol she recognized as Steve's shield.

So this one was an Avengers fan, and apparently on Steve's side. That made her feel quite a bit better about answering.

"Either is fine," she replied quietly, and the young man sent her a smile, allowing his sleeve to slip back down.

"Does it hurt you?" someone else asked from her side, and Wanda turned to find a light-haired young man with a round face and the start of a mustache looking at her in concerned curiosity. "The collar, I mean. When you talk?"

Wanda took a little breath to steady her nerves before she answered.

"Only if I speak out of line. I am allowed to answer questions that require it, otherwise I am not supposed to speak."

"How would they even monitor that?" another man asked, this one heavy-set and clean-shaven with thick sideburns, seated across from her at the end of the table. "Do they just have someone listening to you all day to make sure you aren't speaking out of turn?"

She replied with a helpless little shrug. "I haven't pushed my luck."

"I wonder if we could turn it off. Fry the programming, or something," someone suggested from behind her, and the words were quickly followed by another person's disbelieving scoff.

"Dude, that would definitely get you court marshaled."

Wanda turned to see the speaker, and found a darkly tanned man standing behind her, peering at the collar.

"Only if they caught me."

"If they're listening in through that thing, they just heard you say that," the man beside him laughed. "You're already caught."

"Who is 'they' anyhow?" one of the young men from the table behind them asked.

"The UN," someone replied from over her shoulder, and Wanda turned to see who had spoken just as someone from another table chimed in.

"World Security Council, not the whole UN. It's the side-branch that they reserve for dealing with the superhero groups."

"Fuck, I knew it! She IS Scarlet Witch!" one man exclaimed from somewhere she couldn't see.

"Dude, you just realized that?"

"Wait, really? Why'd they send her here?"

"With the General, obviously."

"Is this over that Accords mess that-"

"-heard something about Ross getting a pet-"

"-only one on the team that looks like-"

"-collar? For real? I can't-"

"-assumed that-"

"-what are the odds-"

Wanda quickly tuned out most of the chatter, losing track of the conversation as everyone around her started talking at once. She let her fingers twist themselves into a knot in her lap, forcing herself to take a deep breath to calm down.

So they all knew who she was.

The words "Scarlet Witch" kept echoing through the conversations around her like a curse waiting to fall, and it sent a prickling unease up her spine.

She was pitifully outnumbered.

And yet, they didn't seem overly hostile. Just curious. And in fact, most of them seemed to be rather sympathetic toward her being kept as a pet.

Wanda took another slow breath, ducking her head down as the talking around her got louder and more excited. More soldiers had joined the conversation, drawn over by the crowd, and Wanda was now at the center of a rather loud, boisterous mass of strange young men.

Fortunately, she was not the only one aware of this.

"Hey, guys, keep it down a notch, you're freaking her out."

The chatter died down quickly, and Wanda ducked her head even further to hide from the concerned glances that were thrown her way as she shot a glance at the person who had just spoken.

"Sorry about that," the man beside her said with a gentle smile. "We all tend to get a bit rowdy when we're excited. We don't mean to overwhelm you."

She hummed a soft sound in acknowledgement, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she peeked up at the young men from under her hat.

"Did the General say how long you'd be stationed here for?"

Wanda shook her head, glancing up at the man who'd spoken before returning her gaze resolutely to her lap.

"Do you know if you're in classes? Or just following General Ross around?"

"Just following," she murmured.

"Are you going to be back for-"

"All right, boys," a voice called, interrupting the next set of questions, and Wanda looked up in relief to see Secretary Ross making his way toward her through the crowd. "Sorry to spoil your fun, but I need her back now."

There were a few chorused "awww"s as Wanda slipped to her feet, tilting her head to allow Ross access to her collar as he clipped her leash on.

"Hello, pet," he crooned, cupping her cheek in his hand for a second and flashing her a gentle, reassuring smile. "It's getting a bit late. Why don't we go get some fresh air before heading back to your room?"

Wanda nodded, trailing at his heels as the crowd parted to let them through, a few of the soldiers calling goodbyes after them.

She focused her attention on Ross' back, her nerves in too much of a knot to answer any of the young men, and followed the General out into the hallway as she focused on evening out the little hitch in her breathing.

That...hadn't gone as bad as she'd thought it would. They all actually seemed rather nice.

Wanda allowed a fond little smile to creep over her lips as she recalled the one man offering to deactivate her collar once they'd found out that it hurt her. Perhaps she hadn't been sent into as much of a lion's den as she'd thought.

"Well, you're looking considerably more cheerful than when I left," Ross said, holding a door open for her with a grin as he startled her out of her musing. "If you'd like, I can let you visit with the boys again a bit later in the week, so you don't get lonely."

Wanda considered for a second, worrying her bottom lip in thought, before glancing up to meet Ross' gaze and nodding.

Now that she knew she didn't have anything to fear, she felt that she could face them all again, and perhaps not spend the entire time hiding behind her hat. And if Ross was willing to let her see other people so that she wouldn't be lonely, perhaps he wasn't as terrible a person as she'd worried he was.

"We can go eat lunch there tomorrow. Would you like that, pet?" he asked her gently, and Wanda nodded again as he stepped through the door after her and let it swing closed behind him, taking up the lead once more.

Wanda obediently fell into step at his heel, carefully keeping pace with the man as he directed them toward an ornate set of double doors.

Perhaps this wouldn't be too terrible after all.

Post Civil-War, Wanda goes home with Clint for a while to get off the radar. His wife immediately adores their new "kid," and Wanda does her best to be helpful.

Bonus if this includes a family skiing trip that had gotten put off for certain...reasons...

What if Steve maybe means too well? What if he buys things he thinks are good for Bucky but they aren't?

What if Bucky is lactose-intolerant and drinks the milk just because it makes Steve happy? What if Bucky bought plums because he was constipated and Steve thinks he loves them. And Bucky eats them nevertheless even if he gets the runs all the time.

Any keeps an eye on it for a while but when it's getting worse (because Steve found just a new something Bucky can't stomach but would eat to make Steve happy) he talks to Sam... they need to stop Steve :D

Because how else do we explain this shit

During CW, Steve goes to hug Bucky but Bucky's not ready for full body hugs and is still twitchy about casual touches. Steve must settle for no hugs (except from Nat, who is trying so hard to have a real family and all she's got are these self-sacrificing fossils, like damn). You can go into specific reasons for maximum angst.

Bonus - Steve starts sighing after that one time Bucky was drowning and he got to hug him. And that one time he had his arm blown off and he could carry him. And that one time Bucky had his hand around his throat, THAT WAS TRUE ROMANCE

Vision doesn't miss when he attacks Sam during the escape from the airport. (Since Sam is flying behind both Rhodey and Tony and considering that in the movie neither Sam nor Tony catch up to Rhodey in time, it's doubtful that either of them would've managed to catch Sam.)

So Sam hits the ground, only he's wearing less armor than Rhodey, so how much worse are his injuries? Does he die? Does Steve turn the Quinjet around when he realizes what's happening or does he keep going?

Before Civil war there was an interview where Sebastian Stan said that to Bucky Hydra was something like a family and that he does have some good memories about them.

So give me these good memories and how Steve and co react to the fact that for Bucky Hydra wasn't 24/7 doom and gloom. And sure a lot of it can be chalked up to Stockholm syndrome but that doesn't change that sometimes Bucky misses his Hydra team mates, who are mostly dead now.

I want to see the road trip to get Scott before the fight. (As well as his kidnapping by Clint and Wanda.)

So, now Clint has two powerful women in his life who have made him their surrogate family in a way, Natasha and Wanda. We've seen that Natasha is fiercely loyal and protective of him (and him of her), and I imagine Wanda is growing to feel the same way, what with the interview talk of him having become her surrogate brother/uncle/father person.

I'd like to see them protect him when he gets his ass kicked by bad guys. And maybe one or both of them going into an absolute rage when he's badly hurt?

It could be several shorter scenes, maybe a five times thing? Like five times they protected him and one time he protected them? If you do the shorter scenes, maybe you could work Laura in as well, protecting her husband in her own way?

Wanda is the definition of glass cannon. She can wreak absolute havoc, but her body is still painfully human. If someone gets close enough to land any kind of blow on her at all, she's going down.

Except, it's really hard to do that vs telekinesis, so no one's been able to successfully land a hit on her, and the Avengers all take it for granted that she can't be hurt. Until in the middle of a fight with some baddies, one of the enemy goons comes up behind Wanda without her noticing and shoots her in the arm/shoulder/leg/somewhere non-lethal. She drops like a rock, and everyone panics.

Wanda wakes up in bed a day or two later with the whole group fussing over her, each in their own way.

Bonus if Vision never leaves her side in case she needs something, and/or if Natasha as the only other female has to help her bathe so she doesn't mess up the bandages.

Steve was barking happily as he bounded alongside Sharon, the cream-colored horse tossing her mane as she trotted through the grass. Tony watched the two circle in the pasture, darting around one another as they played.

He had ordered a work crew to fence in the span of land out behind his mansion so that Sharon had somewhere to run, and she seemed to be enjoying it so far.

Tony stood by the fence, the scent of wood strong in his nose as he watched the two animals play in the long grass, and thought belatedly that he was glad he hadn’t had this strip turned into a helicopter landing pad like he’d been tempted to.

He had worried that he wouldn’t have enough room - even in his mansion - for a tiger and a horse, but they both seemed to be happy with what he did have.

Lang had actually been the biggest worry, as Tony wasn’t sure that tigers could legally be kept anywhere other than a sanctuary in California. A brief search had turned up the answer as “no”, but it turned out that being Tony Stark had its perks, and he had been allowed to bend the law a little with the help of certain friends in high places who could write him up the proper documents. So Lang was allowed to stay.

Out in the pasture Sharon whinnied, taking off at a run, and Steve whirled to give chase, tail wagging. Tony glanced back at the house where Scott was sprawled across the front porch, asleep, happily taking up most of the shade.

“Lazy creature,” he muttered.

The sound of tires on gravel interrupted his musing about whether or not dumping a bucket of water on the sleeping tiger would be a bad idea, and Tony turned to see a sleek looking car pull into the driveway.

A familiar car.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, feeling something like nerves tangle in his stomach. “She actually came.”

Tony pushed himself away from the fence, shooting one final glance back at Sharon and Steve before heading up toward the driveway, and was just in time to hear the engine rumble to a stop.

He stood awkwardly at the edge of the driveway, his tongue feeling like it was glued to the top of his mouth as he watched the car door open.

The driver stood, glancing around for a second before spotting him, and Tony swallowed hard as the click of high heels approached.

Pepper was dressed in a white business jacket, her hair looking like she’d gotten it styled recently, and she had a little folder of papers tucked under one arm carefully, her purse slung over the opposite shoulder. She paced to a stop about a yard away from him, giving him a once-over that seemed to satisfy her, but made Tony pricklingly aware that his hair was not brushed and his shirt was half-untucked.

“Pepper,” he said softly, his mind whirling for something – anything – to say as he stared at her.

Pepper beat him to it.

“I swear I can’t leave any of you to your own devices for more than a day… Where are they?”

“I-…um…pasture,” Tony stuttered intelligently, cringing as he poked a thumb over his shoulder.

Pepper nodded once, sharply, before heading in that direction, and it took Tony a full five seconds before his brain kicked back into working mode and he remembered to call “and Lang’s on the porch” after her.

He broke into a jog to catch up, walking a pace behind her as he tried to find something to talk about. His brain was failing him spectacularly, however, and he wound up merely trailing after her in silence as she crossed to the pasture and stopped at the fence.

Steve and Sharon had noticed the car as well, and were both waiting fairly close by, blinking up at Pepper in curiosity.

The woman looked between the two for a second before settling her attention on Steve.

“Steve Rogers?” she asked the dog tentatively.

The golden retriever ducked his head in the approximation of a polite bow, and Pepper lost some of the awkward tension in her shoulders.

“Oh, yes, you’re definitely him. And who do we have here?”

Sharon was shuffling nervously a pace behind Steve, but came closer to the fence when addressed, mimicking Steve’s head-dip.

“That’s Sharon. Carter. One of Steve’s friends,” Tony explained.

“Hello there, pretty,” Pepper crooned, offering a hand to Sharon.

After a little hesitation, Sharon nudged her nose up into the woman’s palm, and Pepper smiled.

“And where’s the third one, Tony?” she asked, sparing a glance over her shoulder at him as she stroked Sharon’s velvet nose. “The tiger?”

“Front porch,” Tony said, turning to point. “He’s been there all-”

But when his eyes scanned the porch, the tiger was nowhere to be found.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…”

“Don’t tell me you lost one of them already,” Pepper said in exasperation, turning to look as well, but before Tony could think up an excuse, she was already walking past him. “Nevermind, just found him. He’d better not dent my car...”

Tony’s eyes trailed over to the vehicle, and he winced when he found Lang sprawled over the front hood, soaking in the residual warmth from the engine.

“Scott!” he shouted, scolding. The tiger didn’t even lift his head.

Tony scowled at the big cat, marching in that direction as Scott flicked his tail to show he was irate but didn’t bother moving another muscle to get up.

Pepper reached him before Tony did, and the woman gently scratched under Scott’s chin as the tiger greeted her with a little chirr.

“Hello, there. Scott Lang, is it?”

The tiger nodded, eyes drooping contentedly as Pepper fawned over him for a moment.

“So now you’ve met the gang,” Tony started awkwardly as he walked up to her, watching as the strawberry blonde easily shooed the tiger off the hood of her car without so much as raising her voice. “You, um…you staying for lunch?”

“I took the day,” Pepper replied. “I figured you’d gotten yourself into a sizable enough mess to require it.”

“Good. That’s… I mean, no, not good. Mess? I didn’t get myself- this isn’t my mess! I didn’t get myself into anything!” he stuttered, and Pepper turned to fix him with a raised eyebrow.

“You have three new pets, one of which is a tiger. How is that not a mess?”

“…fair point. But it wasn’t my fault this time! The others bailed out on me, or else I would have totally sent Lang off with T’Challa; but he only wanted Natasha or Bucky, and I’d already assigned Bucky to Parker-“

He trailed off as Pepper raised a hand to quiet him.

“Can we continue this inside? It’s starting to get hot. And you should probably make sure that your ‘pets’ have enough water and shade before we go in.”

“Water and shade. Right. Let me- you can let yourself in. I’ll have FRIDAY let you in,” he corrected, turning a complete circle as his hands twitched for something to do. “Water and shade…right. Be right back.”

Tony turned and headed for the pasture as Pepper made her way inside, his eyes scanning the area. Sharon’s barn would offer enough shade for the three animals, he was pretty sure, and it was well ventilated to keep it from getting musty, so they would be cool if they went in there. Up by the fence there was a large tub – about seven feet across and three or four feet deep - that could hold about a thousand gallons of water. It had just been delivered that morning, and would easily be big enough for all three of them to share, but it hadn’t been filled yet. He would need to do that.

Threading the garden hose down from the shed was more effort than he’d though it would be, and by the time he’d fed the end into the tub, all three of his new pets were standing around him, watching curiously.

He left them there with a sharp command to leave the hose alone, and darted back to the shed to turn the water on. The hiss and rattle of water hitting tin let him know that it had started filling, and Tony let the hose run as he made his way up to the house.

Pepper was already making herself comfortable in his home office, setting her things across his unused desk and hanging her dress coat on the back of the chair. He stood awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, just watching, and cast a final glance out the window at his pets before clearing his throat and stepping into the room.

“So…now what?” he asked. The woman fixed him with a raised eyebrow, running her fingers through her hair to comb a few flyaway strands back into order.

“You tell me, Tony. You’re the one who called asking for help. What needs to be done?”

Tony dropped into the chair opposite his desk, feeling a bit like he’d been sent to the principal’s office for detention.

“Well…I got them set up with food and water and places to sleep, and I figured out the paperwork I needed to keep Lang, so now my mansion is technically a preserve, and I even remembered to pull the building codes for the barn before I had it put in. FRIDAY reminded me,” he admitted.

“Sounds like you have everything surprisingly under control,” Pepper mused, glancing out the window at the three animals. “What did you want me here for?”

He let out a long sigh, running his hand over his face.

“Honestly? I wanted company. There’s three of them, I’m outnumbered,” Tony admitted. “I can kind of keep track of them, and Steve follows me around like he’s worried I’m going to get myself into trouble, but when Lang’s off acting up and I’m trying to go check on Sharon and Steve’s barking at me to do something, I can’t…I can’t keep track of that. I’m not good at taking care of things, Pepper. I always seem to mess up, and I don’t want to mess up with them. I’ve…I’ve already messed up enough.”

“So you want me to stay here and help you take care of your teammates.”

“Essentially, yes,” he winced. Pepper let out a long breath, her arms uncrossing and falling to her waist, where she planted her hands on her hips.

“I said I was done, Tony. That I wasn’t getting involved with anymore superhero stuff.”

“I know, Pep, and I swear I wouldn’t have dragged you back here if I thought I could handle this myself-”

“Give me one good reason that I shouldn’t leave the lot of you to your own mess.”

He sat for a long second, at a complete loss, before his eyes trailed out to the three animals playing in the pasture.

“I got you a pony?” Tony offered sheepishly.

Pepper gave him a long, hard look, her gaze piercing, before she looked down, shaking her head, and sank into the desk chair with a sigh.

“Fair enough.”

Tony let out a slow breath in relief, letting himself relax.

Pepper was here. She could help him look after the others, and he wouldn’t have to worry that he was neglecting them or anything. She could handle herself around things that needed to be cared for, obviously, she’d managed to keep him in line for years. Now that she was here, he could finally relax.

Now, he could handle anything.

“Tony…why is Lang running around with the garden hose in his mouth?” Pepper asked, leaning to look out the window, and Tony buried his face in his hand with a groan.

Well…almost anything.

Any wakes up one morning and finds that he/she is the only one that has avoided a sleeping curse.

The only way to lift it from their teammates? Kiss every one of them.

Friendships: Bruce & Tony, JARVIS & Tony, Bruce & JARVIS
Ships: Bruce/Tony, JARVIS/Tony

Writer can choose to write the prompt as gen, shippy, or a mix of the two. Use of other characters is cool, but I'd like the focus to be on these three.

Prompt: Since the day Tony hit [ENTER] after run jarvis.exe, it has always been JARVIS and Tony in the lab, alone. Tony's friends might come and visit, maybe tinker a little bit, but the actual science of creation was something unique between Tony and JARVIS (and the 'bots, of course, but Dum-E, U, and Butterfingers were, to seriously anthropomorphize, like unchronological kids/younger siblings or even pets. Doted upon, sometimes helpful, but lacking in the higher intellectual function area). Tony and JARVIS: the best of lab partners.

Then Dr. Bruce Banner moved in.

JARVIS does not take it very well.

Other: For those who think this prompt sounds familiar, I originally wrote about it at F_FA, and the thread has some extra thoughts if you need more inspiration, but you don't have to use it. (Link: http://fail-fandomanon.dreamwidth.org/258889.html?thread=1453178697#cmt1453 )

(prompt x-posted to

avengerkink. link: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/21438.html?thread=55213758#t55213758 )

In fics where both Bruce/Tony and Hulk/Tony happen, the latter usually happens after or at the same time Bruce and Tony first start showing interest in each other. So, let's do a little reversal:

Prompt: Unexpectedly, Tony Stark falls in love with the Hulk first.

Bruce and Tony are absolutely Science Bros from the get-go, but for whatever reason, Tony just doesn't think of Bruce in a sustained romantic or sexual sense at first (or dismisses the idea ASAP). But then the Hulk saved Tony after the portal, and who wouldn't want to get to know their savior? (Plus, Tony's always been fascinated by the big green rage monster.) So Tony is constantly interacting with him whenever he appears, needling Bruce to let the Big Guy out for some non-smashing time, etc., and they get along really well, and... huh, Tony realizes he like likes the Hulk.

(On the other side of the equation, Bruce finds himself resenting the Hulk for an entirely new reason.)

Other requirements:

- Hulk returns Tony's feelings, both romantically and sexually (though it's up to you whether there's any physical consummation).

- Fic can end as both Hulk/Tony and Bruce/Tony OR as Hulk/Tony and one-sided Bruce-->Tony.

(prompt x-post to

avengerkink: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/21438.html?thread=55215038#t55215038 )

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 9 of 50

Prompt Post #1

Bucky's self-care... he's worth it

FILL: Shifted (31/?)

Re: Bucky's self-care... he's worth it

Message from mod

Re: Message from mod

Re: Bucky's self-care... he's worth it

Re: Vision - questioning his free will

Re: Natasha/T'Challa - Natasha is hurt, T'Challa puts his anger aside to help

Dr. Strucker loves his twins

Bucky/Dr. Strange - crack

Steve/Bucky, swing dancing, acrobatics

Re: Message from mod

Fill: Enlisted (6/?)

[GEN] Wanda, Clint's family

Any/Bucky, Sam/Steve, overprotective Steve

Bucky/Steve - Touch aversion

GEN or Sam/Steve - Vision doesn't miss

Gen, Bucky, missing HYDRA

[GEN] Clint, Scott, Wanda - Road trip

Clint + Natasha, Clint + Wanda, (maybe Clint/Laura?) - Clint and the women who want to protect him

[GEN] Avengers/Wanda - nursing her back to health, fluff

FILL: Shifted (32/?)

Any - Reverse Sleeping Beauty

[Gen] or Bruce/Tony & JARVIS/Tony: JARVIS is jealous of Bruce

Hulk/Tony, Bruce/Tony: Tony and the Hulk fall in love first