#FBI Agent Tony Stark

[thesetwoidiots]

Y'aaaaaallll, I've been sucked into the A/B/O world! It's gripped my brain and scratched the right way!

So... y'all wanna see my IronStrange A/B/O HCs?

[winterspiderpurrs]

Prompt:

Mob AU

Two separate families start going to the same restaurant but on different days

Then the FBI starts casing the place on other days. They can't figure out what's drawing the two families there. And as far as they can tell- neither family knew the other was going there too.

Then one faithful day while the FBI was sitting there in there section, the two families arrive at the same time. They can't cause a scene so publicly. But all bets are off when the two heads of the family say at the same time.

" Seat us in Peter's section "

" Wow, Peter sure is popular today! You may have to wait, Mr. Rogers just took his last booth. But I can easily sit you somewhere else?"

[darsynia]

Just Right | Ch 4

(Steve Rogers x F!Reader, post-Ultron Multichapter)

Summary:

You’ve been in love with Steve Rogers for at least a year, but he treats you the same way he treats every other member of the team– with respect, but nothing more. It takes an inter-dimensional mistake and a whole second, more assertive, actually interested Steve for you to realize that you don’t want just any version of Steve Rogers– you want the one you’ve been pining for all this time.

Length: 3,456

FIC MASTERLIST | LAST CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

Want to be tagged on this or any other Steve fic? Please ask! @ronearoundblindly @munstysmind @tiny-anne @themaradaniels @starryeyes2000 @chickensarentcheap

Excerpt:

“He’s me, ‘Dine. He’d never dream of revealing something like that. I was thinking about it-- I think the only reason he went on the mission is because it happened for them already. It’s hard to resist the comparisons.” He lifts his eyebrows to see if you want him to take your tray, and you nod.

“How is that going?” you ask carefully.

Steve immediately looks at the ceiling, then over at the window, before finally glancing your way, letting out a little sigh. “Can someone be better at being you than you are?”

You let some of how you feel about him show, since you’re practically bursting with it anyway. “No, but you can know yourself well enough to recognize that you and he are working on different things, and they don’t overlap.”

He’d been priming to stand up, but your words physically send Steve back in his chair. The look is back, the one you wish you could bottle up and overdose with, on nights when you talk with your married friends.

“I-- That really helps. Thank you.”

Chapter Four

You don’t change clothes for lunch; it’s only when you walk into the cafeteria area that you realize this could be very loosely construed as a date-- but by then it’s too late, because Steve’s seen you and he waves you over to the smaller table by the wall.

“I waited, hope you don’t mind. Natasha told me it’s very rude to set things up so that the woman is eating when the man isn’t.”

Does that make this a date? your traitorous brain pushes you to ask as the two of you make your way over to get food. You could probably phrase it in a way that gives you cover if his reaction is negative-- but you just can’t do it. Instead, you ask him about the stuff that didn’t make it into Natasha’s rather clinical report.

He talks about the secrecy the government had asked them to employ, how they’d worn sunglasses and ball caps to get to the site, their gear stowed away in backpacks.

“Tony took one look at the group of us and went back into the Quinjet. He came out wearing a leather jacket, reflective sunglasses, and a motorcycle helmet. Said we all looked like a ‘tourist group’ of undercover FBI agents!”

You laugh. “Glad he put it to good use, even if it wasn’t the one I’d intended.”

He looks down and smiles at his sandwich, shaking his head a little bit. “I should have known you were the one who put that in there.”

“Hey, stashing an extra helmet is a no brainer, pun intended! Not everyone is a super soldier, but all of you sure love your motorcycles.”

“You’ll be happy to know we avoided self-destructive behavior as much as possible, this trip. The NRC guys were very careful, only let Stark go into certain areas.”

“Well,” you say, pointing at him with a celery stick. “Based on Howard’s notes you would have been fine, but I guess it doesn’t hurt to be cautious.”

“Howard Stark?” Steve asks, voice going quiet.

“Yeah. I mean, he was heavily involved in the serum development, and man, was he a note-taker!” Something about the look on Steve’s face hits you. “Did… did no one ever tell you about that? There are notebooks’ worth of--”

“No,” he says, posture straightening. “No one said anything.”

Now you feel guilty and indignant on his behalf, all at once. “They’re all scanned in, I bet you have access? I’m not sure anyone thought to tell you, sadly enough. Either that or they just assumed you knew.” You fumble around for your phone, but he stretches out a hand into your line of sight in that way he has, gentler than using his voice. It’s a leadership thing, the knowledge that a command to stop means something different when you’re both a friend and a team leader. You’ve always loved that about him.

“I’ll check it out. Thank you.”

You nod, offer the olive branch of a redirect back to the original conversation. “So, was Stark able to find the source of the radiation?”

“Yeah, flew it right to the disposal site. Probably saved days worth of decontamination work. Problem was, the HYDRA base-- well, you saw the report.”

“Booby traps, Tony Stark’s favorite.”

He wheeze-coughs through the sip he’d been taking. “Yeah, and his work defusing them was the lynchpin of the whole operation. He’ll be insufferable for days.”

“How will we be able to tell the difference?” It’s a joke, but after the two of you share a chuckle, Steve’s expression turns serious.

“Yeah, about that…”

“Oh, I walked right into that one.”

“Humor me? It’s been a strange experience, having a doppelganger. You seem like one of the only people who can instantly see the difference, so when you didn’t--” He breaks off and doesn’t continue.

You shrug. “It’s honestly just instinct? Or maybe I’m hypersensitive to hair length. Got to make sure that helmet fits you without slippage!”

Steve finishes off the last bite of his sandwich and regards you thoughtfully. It’s familiar (still thrilling, though), and you shove away the thoughts that everything you’ve been saying and doing here could have just as easily been done as a function of your job. You suddenly wish you could change the subject, but you know Steve. He’s wrestling with something. You suspect you’re one of the only people who see the differences between him and Gold Steve enough to help.

“He won’t say anything about what he may have gone through-- and I wouldn’t ask,” Steve says quickly. “It does feel like he’s more… maybe ‘comfortable’ is the word? It’s hard not to worry that it’s from some kind of shared trauma.”

“A shared trauma you’d avoid, if only you knew it was coming?” you guess gently.

Steve’s look of relief carries with it an undercurrent of gratitude that could very easily be tuned to the romantic. After spending hours of your life syncing yourself to his resonance, your body can’t help but respond, quickening your breathing and heating your blood.

“He’s me, ‘Dine. He’d never dream of revealing something like that. I was thinking about it-- I think the only reason he went on the mission is because it happened for them already. It’s hard to resist the comparisons.” He lifts his eyebrows to see if you want him to take your tray, and you nod.

“How is that going?” you ask carefully.

Steve immediately looks at the ceiling, then over at the window, before finally glancing your way, letting out a little sigh. “Can someone be better at being you than you are?”

You let some of how you feel about him show, since you’re practically bursting with it anyway. “No, but you can know yourself well enough to recognize that you and he are working on different things, and they don’t overlap.”

He’d been priming to stand up, but your words physically send Steve back in his chair. The look is back, the one you wish you could bottle up and overdose with, on nights when you talk with your married friends.

“I-- That really helps. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” you say, and mean it.

When you’re finished with your work for the day, something in you just cannot stand to be indoors any longer. That doesn’t mean you’re going to go for a run or anything, but a walk among green things is a necessity. You head straight for the woods when you get outside, aiming for a particular clearing that’s a favorite, the one with a tree that angles just so, perfect for leaning against and thinking.

It had been a gamble to move into the Avengers Compound, because it cut you off in some ways from your friends in the city. Not everyone who works there lives on-site, it’s not required-- and you didn’t do it just because it’s where Steve lives. After all, he’s been looking for months for a place in Brooklyn, so he could move out at any point. He refuses to let anyone help (and you suspect that Stark actually has a place rented or bought for him and is just looking for the right way to trick Steve into living there), but you’re sure it’s only a matter of time.

The lunch today has you all twisted up in knots, even hours later. On one hand, you’re elated that he’d invited you to lunch at all, that you got his full attention for such an extended period of time-- especially in such a relaxed, no-pressure setting. On another, it was… more of the same, from him. 

You let out a long, frustrated sigh. Meeting Gold Steve has made you dissatisfied with the status quo, there’s no other way to put it. Without his attentive interest, you’d have seen your lunch with your universe’s Steve Rogers as one of the most exciting events of your tenure here.

“That’s a weary sound,” a voice says. Speak of the devil…

“Haven’t they sent you back yet?” you quip, mostly kidding. You’re vulnerable and combative right now, and if you can chase Gold Steve away, you really ought to.

He walks over into your line of sight and shoulders up against a tree, one hand in his pocket. “Tony’s been in the lab since last night, or so FRIDAY says. A couple more hours and Natasha’s planning to break in to give him a care package of food and fresh coffee.”

“That’s… actually pretty encouraging.” Your back has started to hurt, but if you stand up to leave, you know he’ll offer to accompany you, and your universe’s Steve has seemed a little… protective of you, when Gold Steve is around. 

That thought actually pisses you off, because the word your mind is dancing around is ‘jealousy,’ and in order for there to be jealousy, there need to be feelings. You’re pretty sure that’s not what’s going on.

“If you don’t mind my saying so, you look like you need to talk something out.”

“You’re probably simultaneously the best and the worst person to do that with right now,” you groan.

“It’s ‘other me’ related?”

You close your eyes and scrunch up your face in regret. “Pretend I didn’t say anything?”

“And squander your chance to figure him out?” Gold Steve actually makes a ‘tsk’ noise.

“You don’t really mean that,” you say with your eyes still closed. “Even if you did, there’s no figuring. There’s just me reading into things.” You suspect he’s trying to learn more about his counterpart, so you decide to chase him away with this and then maybe dig a hole to fling yourself into until he goes back home. “He’s had lunch with any number of other people, and it’s just the way you look at me that made me mix the two of you up when he was jog--” 

You straighten up. If Stark’s really on the verge of a breakthrough, this might be your last chance to ask Gold Steve the thing that’s been nagging at you for weeks.

If you’re burning bridges, then you might as well light them up.

“What is with that, anyway? You know that’s how I knew, right? The way you look at me.” Most of your rational brain is in revolt, but you’re tired. If this avatar of the person you love can’t explain to you how to trigger the same reaction in your version, then you’re going to demand that he tell you what makes him different. He’s upended your neatly compartmentalized life, it’s the least he can do. And once he has, he’ll probably stop seeking you out, and you can start the process of returning to normal.

He looks guilty.

“I wasn’t going to--” Gold Steve presses his lips together. “I’m not trying to change anything,” he says, and it sounds more like he’s trying to persuade himself than you. “After I found out Bucky was alive, learned some of what he’d gone through, someone was there for me, and I fell really hard.” 

His wry smile is sad, and you feel a tiny prickle of alarm. It doesn’t feel like this is going to be a happy story.

He continues, “At the time, I didn’t feel like I knew enough about this decade, this century. I needed time. And the nature of the job, you know, the world always needs saving, so I wasn’t worried. I figured I had time. And then we lost-- she was gone.” 

Gold Steve stops and takes a breath. He’s not looking at you, and you don’t blame him. It seems like if he did, he might just lose the tenuous grip he has on his emotions. You can barely breathe just listening to him.

“I really regret that. I never took that chance-- and, I’d love to think we’d have made it work, that she’d have fallen for me just as hard-- but now I’ll never know. I’ll never know what it would’ve been like to wake up next to each other. To help her through the tough times, to maybe be the last loving thought on her mind, before the end.” He looks directly at you, and you can see it, the bone-deep regret, the determination to do whatever he can to prevent that kind of heartache. “Those days afterwards, they taught me you have to speak up, let people know what they mean to you. I can’t let the fear of letting someone down leave them to die alone. I told myself I had to use that horrible day to be better, to--” he lets out a tiny chuckle, like he’s reliving a bittersweet memory. “To wear my heart on my sleeve.”

“That’s beautiful,” you whisper. “I’m sorry you lost her.”

“Me too.”

Gold Steve wasn’t at dinner, but you didn’t blame him at all. You’d sat there trying to socialize with his words hanging around your heart until the burden was too heavy, and you’d excused yourself after barely eating anything. Now it’s two in the morning and you’re ravenous, and you only have yourself to blame.

You make yourself some cereal, a comfort food from your childhood, but you can’t bring yourself to eat it in the large, dark cafeteria, nor do you want to put the overhead lights on. Instead, you steal away with it to the rec room, even though it’s probably not allowed in there. If FRIDAY wants to tell on you, so be it.

It isn’t until you’re happily settling into the comfiest chair that you see you’re not alone.

“Jeez, Tony, are you okay?”

“Finally! Pay up,” he says triumphantly from his place on the couch. You swear for a solid twenty seconds; for months you’d avoided using his given name after he’d teased you for using Natasha’s first, telling him smugly that you’d rather pay him $50 than give him the satisfaction.

“I’ll pay you in the morning, but I think it’s cheating to stay up for forty some hours just for a lousy fifty bucks. I guess eccentric billionaire is as eccentric billionaire does,” you sniff. Inwardly, you’re mad that you’d forgotten Tony likes the rec room couch better than the guest beds.

“Fifty bucks and the solution to sending the Rog-elgänger back,” Tony says, adding quickly, “I think. I came in here to get a few winks and see if I still feel like a genius when I wake up.”

“And?”

“Fatal flaw,” he grins. “I don’t know what it’s like not to feel like a genius.”

“Well, run it by me, I’ll give you my honest, non-genius opinion.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to count yourself out of this equation, Brigandine. You’re a big part of how I figured it out,” Tony shocks you by saying. “Keep eating, don't let it get soggy. Okay.” He slaps a hand down on his right thigh. “Say this is our universe, and this--” Tony slaps his other hand down on his left thigh; “--is IMPOS-Steve’s universe. He’s said there’s no Avengers Compound over there, but he still walked out into the room when he showed up, right? Like there was a door in the wall?”

You’re still giggling from a minute back. “Only you would use your lap to symbolize the multiverse! But yes, it was like he’d just walked through a door.”

Tony ignores your gibe, caught up in his explanation. “That means it’s not a one-to-one transfer-- whatever chose that place in space-time, it’s not based on where he was when he left. Which is useful only up to a point, because to send him back, I have to do the same thing. With me so far?”

You nod, your mouth full.

“Not long after the attack on New York I got to thinking about how the Chitauri were able to connect from so far a distance. I mean, yeah, wormhole, but I figured there had to be more to it than that. I thought, what if there was something that was like DNA, but it was readable without having to look into a person’s cells. A molecular imprint, like your own personal resonant frequency.”

You’re completely fascinated. “The same way a big building or a bridge has a specific frequency, only unique?”

“Not at all, and yes,” Tony says. “It doesn’t really matter what it is exactly, just that it exists. The problem is figuring out how to detect it, so I went looking for Vision. The two of us did some testing--” He pauses for an extended, satisfying-looking yawn, scratches his forehead, and tries to remember where he was.

“Some testing?” you prompt.

“A lot of testing, but yes. I had set this aside way back when because there was no way to really test the theory--”

“I’m sorry, what theory? Connection over long distances?”

“Well, yes, but connection across universes, too. I mean, the worst possible nightmare, right? With the mind stone and access to every dimension, Loki might have had the largest army ever. An infinite army.”

There’s something about the expression on Tony’s face, like maybe he’d actually set this concept aside because it was the only way he could sleep. He shakes himself a little bit, sees you’re sitting there, and apparently, that’s enough to remind him of where he is in his explanation.

“Right. Faux-gers,” Tony says, grinning. Your stomach clenches in a not wholly uncomfortable way at the idea that your boss associates you with Steve enough to put him back on track like that.

“I think what you’re really lying awake doing is coming up with those,” you tease.

“You know it. Anyway, you’d think there’s no way to test it, right? You’d have to have two versions of the exact same person. Yes, exactly!” Tony says at your spark of realization. He absurdly makes two little ‘people’ out of the first and second fingers of each hand, and stands them up on his thighs, harking back to his ‘lap dimensions.’ “Vision was able to confirm it. Both Steves have the same resonance.” He sighs and lets his hands drop. “Another breakthrough I can’t win a Nobel for.”

You still feel like you’re right on the edge of understanding, and from the yawn Tony just fought through, he’s running out of coherent consciousness. “That’s great, but how does that send him back, exactly?”

“Because all I have to do is tune the thing I haven’t quite invented yet to the resonance of one of the other Avengers. That way I can feel confident I’m sending Pure Imitation Vanilla back safely, instead of in the middle of the concrete foundation for the Bezos Tower or something. And now I want cookies.”

You are taken by a yawn of your own, and Tony leans over and rescues your mostly-empty bowl before it falls off of your lap. Something he said when you first started talking is important, but you can’t remember what it is--

“I might send Nat to trick him into telling us how much farther along he is than we are,” Tony says, lifting up your spoon, making a terrible face, and setting the bowl down on the coffee table. “He tried to play it off, but there were times on that mission that he was definitely steering us away from some nasty shit.”

That confirms your similar hunch. “How far ahead do you think he is?”

“Very,” is the surprising answer. “Which brings me back to your role in all of this. Brigandine, I’m sorry to say, but I think you’re dead.”

You blink at Tony. “Dead? I figured I just wasn’t born in his--”

“Ah, but that wouldn’t work.” He pops his finger figurines back up on his lap, and you groan. “They have to match, remember?”

“Couldn’t the matching resonance thing have been Sam?” you protest. A film of unreality is forming across your skin, dusting up goosebumps and an accompanying chill.

“I don’t think so. You said he seemed pleased to see you, surprised to see the complex. What if something happened? Something bad?” Tony leans over. “Something preventable? If the resonance is tethered to a person instead of a timeframe, how do you ensure you arrive before the bad thing happened?”

“You choose someone who shouldn’t be alive,” you breathe, shaken. “But he’s been here for weeks! If something’s coming, wouldn’t he have said something by now?”

“Not if it’s a ways off. Not if he can’t go back. This is Steve Rogers, ‘Dine. His morals have morals. If we can’t send him back, he doesn’t need to say anything and change other things by accident. He just has to steer us away from the dragons at the edge of the map.”

Next chapter

[buckybarnesevents]

Happy Valentine's Day, @purpleicedteas

This is just a small snippet of what your admirer thought of "And So It Goes"!

Title: And So It Goes Pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark Rating: Mature Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply; Lonely Bucky Summary: Bucky Barnes was a retired FBI agent living as a recluse. Content with a solitary lifestyle, he lived for years with only the company of Alpine, his feline companion. When the empty home next to theirs is filled with new neighbors, Alpine and Bucky find their lives weaving with the handsome engineer and his daughter.

As part of our Valentine's Event, we encourage everyone to come check out this work and also drop some love! 💟

[mitochondriaandbunnies]

Miami Vice S1E8: No Exit

Bruce Willis plays one of the sleaziest villains in all of Vice, directed by David Soul.

One of my favorite early episodes-- this is definitely a good candidate for trying to convince someone to watch Miami Vice. Fair warning that it’s fairly upsetting!

While Paul Michael Glaser (Starsky) directs 3 episodes of Vice, David Soul (Hutch) only did this one. PMG’s episodes are brisk, sarcastic, and laden with visual metaphor. This episode from Soul is dark, contemplative, and artistically spare. Both directors, however, use music absolutely beautifully, and seem to understand the almost visceral connection between Sonny and Rico, even this early in the series. It’s a shame we never got another Soul episode, but this one is damn good.

I love that Tubbs mentions that he is scared of machine guns, because it’s something that sets him apart from the other men in the department. He’s willing to admit his weaknesses and fear and isn’t as wrapped up in the I’m-the-toughest-cop-here machismo bullshit. His ability to be a little more honest with himself is almost certainly a protective factor in terms of why he doesn’t crash and burn quite as badly as the other characters over the course of the show.

Poor Lester the bug man. Lester is one of those early Vice characters who was clearly intended to be recurring, but he mostly spends the beginning of this episode trying to explain how his tools work while Tubbs is like “shut up I’m creepily looking at ladies through a telescope” again. Jesus, Tubbs.

Sonny and Rico are so fucking mean to Paul, the FBI agent who is supposed to be going undercover. Sonny jokes that the guy “must’ve taken drama in high school” and Rico patronizingly says that he “thinks they’ll handle it.” Then they proceed to send Rico, who has like 3 months of inconsistent undercover work under his belt, and whose Jamaican accent occasionally sounds Transylvanian, to do the job instead. Great work, boys.

God. Just-- the way Sonny is simultaneously truly, genuinely, and deeply concerned about Rita and wants to get her out of Tony’s grasp, and yet in the next breath he’s utterly manipulating her so Vice can use her. “Can you do that, Rita?,” he asks her, looking desperate and mournful, “Can you buy us some time?” It’s so goddamn bald-faced. You wonder if he justifies it to himself-- he has to make her do this to save her-- or if he just goes home hating himself that night because he knows what a bastard he was for even asking.

The sequence that follows is utterly wrenching. Tony offers Rita earrings, and when she doesn’t react with the level of excitement (fawning?) he was hoping for, he slowly stalks her down the spare, white hall and then slaps her so hard she falls to the ground. It’s a repetition of the same slow, white-backgrounded violence from the interrogation scene in Calderone’s Return pt. 2; it’s shot and framed like Tony is a horror movie monster; it’s set to the tinkly, synthy, shmaltzy strains of Stay with Me by Teddy Pendergrass. The intentional musical mismatch makes it all the more painful to watch; the age-old excuse that abuse comes from love or the fear of losing the victim’s affection falls apart when a love song is juxtaposed with such stark violence.

I think it’s very telling that Sonny’s call to Rita after he witnesses this (and, rightly, blames himself for it happening) is shot with him standing in almost exactly the same way at the exact same kind of payphone as when he calls Caroline in the pilot. In both cases, he’s calling theoretically to offer some kind of support or reassurance, but in actuality appears to need reassurance himself. He wants Caroline’s confirmation that she did love him once; he wants Rita’s forgiveness. Sonny’s ongoing issue with women comes from the same place as his issues with his self-esteem; he sees himself as a hired weapon at worst and a protector of the innocent at best. When he fails to protect someone, especially a woman or a child, his self-image starts to collapse. He doesn’t believe he’s good for anything else-- so in S1, he asks those he’s failed for reassurance that he is still a good protector. In later seasons, he just believes he really isn’t good for anything.

Sonny: Well, time for you to go to jail / Tony: No one can ever make me go to jail / Random government agent: Yeah uhh so we use him for proxy wars in the Southern Hemisphere, you know how it is with the US government and guns and cocaine and something something contras, so uh, yeah, he can go free

....but Miami Vice definitely is just about speedboats, right

I consider the ending of this to be the most classic/the “ur” Miami Vice Freeze Frame ending. It’s perfect, because like. Yeah, sure, there could be a denouement, but... why bother? There’s nothing that can be said that hasn’t already been said, and nothing that can fix what has happened that wouldn’t utterly undermine the themes of the story. It just sucks! The system is corrupt! They failed because they were set up to fail! You can’t fix the justice system from inside the justice system! This is the theme of the series in one abrupt freeze!

Okay. Okay. So. If Don Johnson is to be believed, he got Bruce Willis either the role or the audition for the role here. And he knew him because Bruce Willis was a waiter at a restaurant he liked. Not to put my tinfoil hat on or anything, but I find it utterly hilarious that Phillip Michael Thomas and not Don “hey boss, I need you to give a job to this hot talented waiter I know” Johnson has a scene here where he and Bruce Willis feel each other up in a men’s room. Look up photos of DJ and Bruce Willis from the 80′s. Look at DJ’s face and tell me I’m wrong.

[sjsmith56]

Visitors, Chapter 3 - Eyes of the Father

Summary: Bucky has to deal with intruders at Lacey’s cabin. Recognized by them he has to leave but he advises her to call the FBI to arrest the four men. A month later, Lacey seeks out Steve Rogers for help.

Length: 5.2 K

Characters: Bucky, Lacey, Agent Jones, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, unnamed Russian mobsters.

Warnings: Violence, angst, anger.

❤️ ❤️ 💔

A hand on her mouth woke Lacey and she heard Bucky's voice whisper in her ear. "There's someone outside," he said. "I'm going to put my clothes on and check it out. Can you get into the attic by yourself and pull up the ladder?"

"Yes," she said, suddenly afraid. "You be careful."

"I always am," he replied and he went to his room quietly.

Lacey threw some clothes on and went out to the main room, pulling down the ladder and going up. She pulled the ladder up behind her and sat in the corner of the attic, near the window, trying to see what was going on outside. She did see one man, with a gun, when Bucky came up behind him unseen and unheard. He put the man into a chokehold, knocking him out. Then he disarmed him and pulled him into the bushes. She heard the sound of a door opening into the house and held her breath, afraid to move. The door opened again and there was the sound of a scuffle followed by silence. Several minutes later the door opened once more and she heard a muffled whisper in a language she couldn't recognize. There was another scuffle which lasted longer but again ended in silence.

A sound outside the window drew her attention and she watched as a big man with a shaved head came across the yard. He looked up at the window and she pulled back immediately, afraid she had been seen. A few minutes later the sound of the door to the attic being pulled down reached her ears and she heard someone coming up the ladder. Terrified, Lacey tried to hide herself in the darkness. A man's head peeked out from the opening, seeming to look right at her. It took all of her willpower not to scream. Suddenly he was pulled down and she could hear the sound of a brawl in the house. Creeping to the opening on her hands and knees she saw glimpses of Bucky, carrying a kitchen knife in his hand, as he fought the man. It was incredible to watch him. He was fast, brutal, and he fought like a demon against a man who was obviously skilled in this type of fighting. Bucky was so much more skilled in his fighting technique that it seemed he was almost playing with the man, waiting for the moment when he could take him down. He finally pinned the man down putting the knife through his palm, and into the floor. With his artificial hand Bucky punched him repeatedly until the man was unconscious before he stopped and sat back on his heels, his breathing barely noticeable. He looked up the stairs.

"Are you okay?" he called.

"Yes," she answered back.

"Do you have duct tape?" he asked. "They need to be immobilized until the FBI gets here. They're Russian and they were talking about the flash drive."

"In my desk," she said. "Do you want me to get it?

"No, stay up there for a bit," he replied. "I'll take care of it."

He opened her desk drawer, located the duct tape and began to hog tie the three men, frisking them to make sure they weren't carrying any other weapons. Then he went outside, found the fourth and carried him inside, hog tying him and frisking him as well. Only then would he allow her to come down, turning on the light so she could see. She looked at the four men then at Bucky.

"You took down four men and you're barely winded," she said, impressed.

"It's what I do," he replied, then he lifted a shirt on one of the men, showing her a distinctive tattoo. "Russian mob. Some of the mobs were involved in HYDRA as well, on the trafficking side, kidnapping people to be their slaves." The man with the shaved head came to and looked at Bucky then said "Soldat." Bucky said something in Russian back to him and looked back at Lacey. "I told him I don't do that anymore. He recognized me. It means I'm going to have to leave. They can't get word to HYDRA that I was here. I'm sorry. You need to go to your mom's house as soon as you can or they'll come back for you and for the drive."

She nodded. "I guess this is goodbye then," she said, looking down.

He raised her chin with his hand. "I'm sorry," he said again, gently. "The less you know about my plans the better. You may have to sell this place otherwise they'll watch you to see if I return."

"What will I tell the FBI about these four?" she asked.

"The truth," he replied. "They won't believe you outsmarted four Russian heavies so tell them it was me. Then tell them I left right away and you don't know where I went. Phone them right now. They'll send a small army to deal with these four."

She nodded and phoned Agent Jones again to tell him she was just saved by Bucky Barnes from four Russian mobsters. He practically yelled into the phone, telling her to stay put. Bucky went into the bedroom while she spoke to Jones. Once she hung up she went to the room and saw he had packed his backpack. He stepped forward, pushed the door closed, and grasped her by the shoulders touching her cheek softly then kissing her deeply. He went to the window, opened it and climbed out. As she looked outside she spotted him near some bushes in the distance. Turning back he blew her a kiss then he disappeared into the bushes. With a sob, she felt as if part of her insides had been ripped out.

Returning to the living room the man who had spoken to Bucky looked at her. "The soldier belongs to HYDRA," he said in heavily accented English. "When they get him back they will send him to kill you and he will because it was what he was programmed to do. You can run but the soldier will find you. He always does."

"Fuck you," she replied and the man smirked at her bravado.

Sitting with the Russians waiting for the FBI to arrive gave her the creeps by itself, but it was almost worse as the bald headed man watched her every move. The other three, once they came to, also watched her in a way that was unnerving. They spoke with each other in Russian and several times laughed, making Lacey think they were talking about her and not in a respectful way. She was glad Bucky had taped them up making it impossible for them to get loose. Twenty long minutes later three black vehicles and a paddy wagon with lights flashing pulled up into the yard. Agent Jones was in the lead vehicle and came right inside without knocking on the door. He lifted the four men's faces up off the floor and sneered at them, then ordered his men to get them out of there. Another man took their weapons which Bucky had left piled on the table. Once they were gone he looked at Lacey expectantly.

"The flash drive?" he asked.

"You wouldn't be getting it if he hadn't been here," said Lacey, as she walked into the spare room. "Where was your guy, huh? Why didn't he pick it up last night?"

Jones grabbed her arm and spun her around. "You are very close to being arrested for harbouring a known fugitive," he said. "A very dangerous fugitive. He's a killer."

"Who saved my life," she reminded him as she yanked her arm out of his grip. "Those four, will they make bail? Will they come back to take me out? Bucky told me they're traffickers for HYDRA, scum of the earth, in other words. Will you protect me from them?"

"How long was he here?" asked Jones, his face just inches from hers, close enough that she could see the pores on his skin. "Did you know him before your brother came here?"

Lacey stepped back, intimidated by his anger. "No," she replied in a resigned manner. "He was hiding in the garage, injured. I didn't know who he was at the time but he asked for my help. It was after you left. He slept in the spare room, helped me with some of the house repairs. When those guys showed up he took them out, without killing them. Told me to phone you and to tell you the truth that it was him that helped me. So, I'm not going to believe you when you call him a dangerous killer. Is he dangerous ... yes, but not to me. Is he a killer? Not any more. You can believe me or not. Now let me get you that flash drive."

She went into the spare bedroom, pulled out the night table, lifted the loose piece of wood and took the flash drive out. Shoving it into his hand she looked at him harshly in the early morning light.

"By the way, he found your listening devices," she said. "I was nothing but truthful to you and yet you put listening devices into my home, as if I was a common criminal. Shame on you."

He shrugged. "Sorry," he said. "That decision came from higher up."

"Well perhaps your higher ups might be interested to know that those four Russians knew about the flash drive," she said. "If Tom didn't tell them then somebody in the FBI did. Chew on that. Now get out of my house."

He looked sharply at her and left the house while she followed him outside. Making a circular motion with his hand while holding it up in the air his associates got back into the SUVs and they pulled out. Then Lacey got dressed, made herself a coffee and sat at the table deciding what to do. She walked through the house, looking at and touching things, bringing back memories. After a time she phoned a realtor on her cell phone and told her she wanted to list the property immediately, as is, buyer take everything. Once she hung up, she broke down crying.

"I'm sorry Grandpa," she cried, looking around her. "I have to sell it. It's too dangerous for me now."

She started to pack her suitcases, then found a couple of boxes and packed up her books. For a moment she smiled when she realized her book, Confessions of a Broken White Girl, was missing.

"Son of a bitch, he took it," she said. "Maybe I will see him again."

She finished packing the books, then put the assorted pictures she had into the box with them. Looking around she tried to decide what else to take and she saw them, her Grandpa's LPs. He wanted to hear them all so she would play them for him and found she had an appreciation for big band music, as that comprised most of his collection. Going out into the garage she found some milk crates and emptied them of their contents. Inside the house she transferred the LPs into them, then put them into the trunk of her car.

Once more she looked around the living room area again but she didn't see anything else that was meaningful to her. She went into the spare room and looked around then saw something on the dresser. She hadn't noticed it when she went in to get the flash drive but she noticed it now. It was a paper heart, made origami style. She picked it up and turned it over. Written in pen in beautiful handwriting on the back were the words I will remember you, B. Sitting on the bed she held the paper heart in her hand and cried. They were over before they had ever started and he was gone forever. Her grandpa's robe was on the bed and she picked it up smelling Bucky's clean scent on it.

Slowly she took some deep breaths, calming her emotions then she put the paper heart inside of her favourite book, Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, and packed it back in the book box. From there she went to her room and looked around to see if there was anything she wanted to take with her. She folded up her grandmother's quilt then spotted her Grandpa's Korea medals, taking the shadow box gently into her hands. She wrapped it up in the robe, putting it and the quilt in the box with her books. As she came out of the bedroom there was a knock at the door and she opened the door to the realtor, who had got out there quickly. Lacey showed her around and explained that something had come up that required her immediate attention, that she wouldn't be able to return to pack up the house. After discussing an opening price Lacey told her the lowest price she would accept. She signed the contract, shook hands with the realtor and watched her leave with the spare set of keys. Then she packed the LPs and book boxes in her car's trunk, putting her suitcases in the back seat. After locking up the house she stood outside looking at it, at her failed dream, and got into her car. When she pulled away she didn't look back.

One month later

It was difficult waiting for the results of the final pregnancy test. Lacey had bought three of them, after three days straight of throwing up. The first two were both positive and now she was waiting for this one. The egg timer buzzed and she picked up the final test ... pregnant. She took a deep breath. How had this happened? Bucky was sure he was sterile and she had been on the pill. However it had happened it was real and now she had a decision to make. Was she going to keep it or get rid of it? She looked around at her bachelor suite. It was tiny, a furnished rental, under her grandmother's maiden name so that the Russian mob couldn't find her. She couldn't raise a baby there. But it was Bucky's baby and if it had his eyes .... Lacey opened her banking app and looked at her bank balance. The property had sold quickly, bought by a man who wanted to build a golf resort and paid a premium for the place, even though someone had broken in and trashed the insides. She could buy a house anywhere she wanted but she was afraid of being found if she did. Closing her app she opened her contacts and looked at the one for Agent Jones. She wanted to trust him so badly but he had hung her out to dry when she told him about the flash drive. A story on the TV caught her attention and she turned up the sound. It was about the Avengers. Captain America, Steve Rogers, was being interviewed about the day he fought the Winter Soldier at the Triskelion and almost died. They pressed him repeatedly about Bucky Barnes until he got angry and looked at the reporter.

"Bucky Barnes served his country in World War II and fell while in action," he said angrily. "He was taken as a POW by HYDRA, tortured, brainwashed and turned into a weapon. When I fought him he could have killed me but he began to remember who we were to each other and he saved my life. He needs to be brought in and be treated for his torture, then rehabilitated back into society. I will fight every minute for the rest of my life for Bucky."

He continued to glare at the reporter until they stopped recording. Lacey took a deep breath. Maybe he was someone she could ask for help and she impulsively booked a plane ticket to New York on her phone. Somehow she was going to talk to Steve Rogers, even if she had to camp out in front of Stark Tower to do it. The next morning she packed an overnight bag and hailed a cab to the airport. She checked in, using her real ID, and the counter agent looked at her.

"Ma'am, could you please stand aside?" she said quietly. "You have been flagged and someone is coming to speak to you."

"I need to get on this flight," insisted Lacey.

"We will do our best ma'am but it is important that you see this individual first," said the agent, apologetically.

A security guard appeared and Lacey sighed, stepping aside. He escorted her to an office behind the security station and opened a door for her to wait in a room. Five minutes later Agent Jones walked in and Lacey turned away from him in distaste.

"Don't do that," he said testily. "I am trying to help you but it was hard when we didn't know where you were. You booked a flight last night for New York and we waited for you to show up today. Are you meeting Bucky Barnes there?"

"Are you kidding me?" she said, looking at him with disgust. "You think I'm meeting him? I haven't seen him since the day the Russians tried to get the flash drive. I haven't heard from him either."

"Why did you sell your house then?" he asked. "Making a little nest egg to support both of you when you meet up with him again?"

"I am not meeting up with him again," said Lacey angrily. "Why don't you believe me? Bucky told me to sell up so the Russians couldn't find me again. Considering the leak that is likely in the FBI I thought it was good advice and I took it. You did know someone came to the house after I left and went through it? Good thing the buyer wanted the property and not the house."

"Then why go to New York?" he asked, looking at her intently. "What was so important that you had to get there?"

"I wanted to talk to Steve Rogers," she snapped. "You happy? I wanted to tell him that I had encountered Bucky. Then I was going to ask his help in finding a safe place for me to live. What would be safer than living with the Avengers?"

He stared at her and she stared right back at him, fed up with his fixation on Bucky. "That's it?" he asked. "You just figured you could walk up to Stark Tower, ask to see Steve Rogers and they would welcome you with open arms?"

"I'm an ordinary person who has had an extraordinary month since my brother was killed," she replied. "I'm not a criminal genius. It seemed like a good idea at the time. By the way, how goes the investigation into my brother's murder?"

Jones sighed. "I'm not the enemy," he declared. "You have all this anger towards me and I really don't know why. If you say you haven't heard from Bucky then I'll have to believe you. He's still wanted and there is still a shoot to kill order on him." He put up his hand when Lacey began to protest. "I told the CIA how he helped us arrest four heavies in the Russian mob but they dismissed it outright. The flash drive proved your brother's innocence and our forensic accountants are still examining it to determine where the money is." Jones sat back and looked at her again as if deciding his next course of action. She tried her best to ignore him.

"I'm going to give you my personal phone number," he said, taking a card out of his wallet and writing on it. "You were right to be angry at me for not coming for the flash drive sooner. I was under orders at the time and it did endanger your life. For that I am sorry, truly sorry. For what it's worth I think asking Steve Rogers for help is a good idea. You are still at risk from the mob because they likely think your brother told you more than he did. I'm going to escort you to your flight and when you get off the plane in New York there will be an agent who will pick you up and drive you to Stark Tower. His name is Edgar Rodriguez and this is what he looks like." Jones showed her a picture from his phone. "He will set up the meet with Steve Rogers. Whatever happens after that is between you two. Good luck and I do mean it."

The man was as good as his word, walking Lacey to the gate where they were holding the flight for her. When she came off the jet Agent Rodriguez was waiting for her and he drove her straight to Stark Tower, walking her inside to the security station and identifying her as Lacey Williams. A young woman came out of the secure area, greeted her and asked Lacey to come with her to the elevator. As they went up Lacey became nauseous and asked for a washroom so she could vomit. The woman looked at her strangely but showed her to a very well appointed one when the elevator stopped, where Lacey promptly threw up. After rinsing her mouth Lacey thanked her for her patience and followed her to a lounge area where Steve Rogers and Tony Stark were sitting on stools, talking. Both men held out their hands to shake hers and invited her to sit on a sofa while they sat across from her.

"Miss Williams," said Steve. "How can I help you?"

"I saw you on TV last night, sticking up for Bucky Barnes," she said, looking nervously at Tony Stark as she spoke. "I was with him just over a month ago." Both Steve and Tony became very interested. "I found him, injured in my garage. He said he had been cornered by HYDRA here in New York, shot in the leg, had to jump into the Hudson River and swim to Staten Island. My home, at that time, was in Delaware. He stayed with me for a short time, helped me with some repairs to the house then saved my life when some Russian mobsters came to find a flash drive left there by my brother. He was found dead in his car, murdered just after Bucky showed up."

"So, you're just here to update us on Barnes whereabouts?" asked Tony. "Do you know where he is now?"

"No, he left after telling me to call the FBI to pick up the four mobsters," she said. "He was trying to stow away on a container ship to Europe out of either Baltimore or Philadelphia. Whether he did or not is unknown to me."

"I don't understand," said Steve. "You could have called with this information. Why did you want to see me in person?"

"Because I don't know who else to trust," said Lacey, as tears started forming and her throat constricted. "You see, we slept together. I was on the pill and Bucky said he believed he was sterile from everything HYDRA did to him, but I started throwing up a few days ago. I'm pregnant, with Bucky's baby. I took three over the counter pregnancy tests and they all confirmed it. If HYDRA or even the CIA find out I'm afraid they'll come looking for me and the baby."

Both men sat there, their mouths open, then they looked at each other. "Can you prove it's Barnes?" asked Tony, and Steve glared at him. "I know how that sounds and I'm sorry for saying it but how do we know you're not some fortune hunter?"

"Because I already have half a million in the bank after I sold my home to some resort developer, in the event more Russians showed up," began Lacey. "I also have this." She pulled her copy of Pride and Prejudice out and brought out the origami heart, handing it to Steve. "He left this for me. I figured you, of all people, would recognize his handwriting."

Steve looked at it and stood up, looking at it again. He handed it to Tony and walked around considering everything that Lacey had just told him.

"Barnes doesn't know about the baby," stated Tony.

"No, I haven't heard from him since he left," said Lacey. "The message on that heart sounded pretty final to me and I've accepted that. I'm just more concerned about protecting the baby from those who would use him to find Bucky and arrest him."

"They might also want to study the baby," mused Tony to Steve. "A super soldier baby. Bruce thinks the genetic changes from both of your serums would be passed on to any children you have. I know lots of people in the CIA who would want to get their hands on that baby."

"So would HYDRA," said Steve, "especially if they could use it to lure Bucky back."

"Even though he's not in their hands Bucky said HYDRA can still control him," stated Lacey. "A sequence of activation words would make him compliant and he would obey any order they gave him. One of the Russians said the same thing. He hasn't killed since he saved you from drowning, for what it's worth."

"Tony, we need to locate Bucky and bring him in," insisted Steve. "As long as HYDRA has those activation words to control him he's a danger to himself and to us. But if we bring him in we can treat him. At the very least we need to keep Miss Williams here so that no one finds out she's carrying Bucky's baby."

"Who's carrying Bucky's baby?" said a female voice, belonging to Natasha Romanoff, who had just walked in.

It was Tony's turn to glare at Steve. "Natasha, meet Lacey Williams," said Tony. "She claims to be carrying Bucky Barnes' baby. How far along are you?"

"A month," replied Lacey. "I don't claim ... I am carrying his baby."

Natasha sat down and looked critically at Lacey. "How equipped is Bucky?" she asked bluntly of her. Steve and Tony both looked at her in almost horror. She looked back with feigned innocence. "What? He was involved in Red Room training and there were stories."

Lacey turned red in the face. "Very," she admitted as she glanced nervously at the two men. "The biggest I've ever seen. He knew how to use it as well. It was the best sex I've ever had, not that I've had a lot of experience."

"She's been with him," declared Natasha. "I'm sure Bruce can run some test to determine the father. We still have blood samples from Bucky, right? He was supposed to be sterile, they called him...."

"The dud of a stud, he told me," said Lacey.

Natasha tilted her head, a slight smile on her face. "They were filling him with all sorts of chemicals tweaking his physique, among other things," she explained to the men. "Those of us in the Red Room figured all the chemicals they were pumping into him while trying to come up with the perfect assassin probably made him sterile. They wanted him to breed with several Red Room candidates who hadn't had their graduation ceremony. Didn't stop Bucky trying, when he was the soldier of course. When he was not under control he refused to take advantage. Another reason he was a disappointment to them in that regard." She looked at Steve then at Tony. "Lacey is going to live here, right? If HYDRA or the CIA find out about the baby they'll come looking for her. We need to protect them both."

"Alright, she can live here," decided Tony. "But other than Bruce no one else needs to know." They agreed. "Miss Williams, where are you living now? We can provide assistance to you to pack up your things and bring them here."

"Philadelphia, in a furnished bachelor apartment," she replied. "I rented it under my grandmother's maiden name. I just have clothes, books, LPs and and some personal items."

"I'll help you," said Natasha. "It will give us a chance to get acquainted better. Which room, Tony?"

"Are you a morning person or an evening person, Miss Williams?" asked Tony.

"Morning, I guess," replied Lacey. "Just call me Lacey. My mom was a big fan of Cagney and Lacey."

"Give her one facing east, so Lacey can see the morning sun," decided Tony. "You can use the quinjet to fly there and take some help to carry Lacey's things. No point putting her on a commercial jet again when we can get it done faster."

Ninety minutes later Natasha, Clint, and Lacey had packed her things. Clint was only told that Lacey had run afoul of the Russian mob and the FBI couldn't guarantee her safety. He brought a dolly to load the boxes and quietly took load after load to the quinjet. Lacey wrote her notice and dropped it off under the door of the building manager. With Clint at the quinjet controls they were soon back at Stark Tower. He brought all the boxes and records on the dolly to Lacey's quarters then left Natasha to help unpack Lacey's things. Natasha looked at the selection of clothing and mentioned that she had to take Lacey shopping for some new clothes, which Lacey declined since she would need maternity clothes soon enough. Then Natasha saw the origami heart when Lacey took it out of the Pride and Prejudice copy.

"Bucky made this for you?" she asked. "It looks like he never expected to see you again. Surely, you're going to tell him about the baby?"

"I don't know where he is," said Lacey. "We only had the one night, so it's not like we had a commitment going into it. If they find him then I'll consider it but I don't think I will ever see him again."

"Then why have his baby?" asked Natasha gently.

"Because I can't stop thinking of him," admitted Lacey, a tear streaming down her cheek. "If the baby has his eyes then a part of him will always be with me and that will have to be good enough."

"They'll find him," said Natasha, putting her arm around Lacey's shoulders. "I'm sure of it."

Lacey smiled, hoping that Natasha was right. When she joined them all for dinner Tony introduced her as someone who needed protection from the Russian mob. Since the FBI seemed to have a leak they had been asked to keep her in Stark Tower for her own safety. He also announced that she was pregnant but that the father was missing. Everyone was kind to her but she did notice Tony talking privately to another dark haired man with both of them looking at her. She assumed it was about the baby and hoped that she could prove she was carrying Bucky's baby.

Chapter 4>>

Series masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging. Comments appreciated.

[tonystarkbingo]

TSB Round 7 Roundup - Week 1 ROUNDUP!

It's the very first roundup of our latest round! Check out all the amazing fills and send out some love to our incredible creators.

Collaborator: scottxlogan Card Number: 7017 Square Filled: T4 - Grief Title: Home Again (Chapter 30) Link: AO3 Pairings: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes Word Count: 10319 Rating: Mature Major Tags/Triggers: Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Supernatural Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, References to Depression, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Pre-Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Angst and Romance, Blood Loss, Adult Content, Explicit Language, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Blood and Injury, Dreams and Nightmares, Slow Burn, Sexual Content Summary: Bucky experiences a painful reunion and pours his heart out to an old friend as his grief over what he lost consumes him. Just when it seems all hope is lost, Sam offers Bucky a surprise that could change everything. Meanwhile Tony and Ramsay share a heart to heart that could potentially put Tony on the right track after his time with Bucky was stolen from his memory.

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Collaborator: scottxlogan Card Number: 7017 Square Filled: S1 - Wish Title: Home Again (Chapter 31) Link: AO3 Pairings: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes Word Count: 19408 Rating: Explicit Major Tags/Triggers: Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Supernatural Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, References to Depression, Bucky Barnes Has PTSD, Bucky Barnes & Sam Wilson Friendship, Pre-Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Tragedy, Angst and Romance, Blood Loss, Adult Content, Explicit Language, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Blood and Injury, Dreams and Nightmares, Slow Burn, Sexual Content Summary: After a few surprising truths are revealed Bucky and Tony are reunited at the reservoir in Wakanda. Will it spell disaster or prove to be the happy ending they've both been searching for?

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Collaborator: illogicalkat Card Number: 7009 Square Filled: R4 - Soulmates Title: These are the hands of Fate Link: AO3 Pairings: Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark Word Count: 665 Rating: Gen Major Tags/Triggers: no warnings apply, soulmates, canon divergence Summary: Tony's thread has been with him as long as he can remember.

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Collaborator: purpleicedteas Card Number: 7007 Square Filled: R5 - Bucky Barnes Title: And So It Goes Link: AO3 Pairings: WinterIron (romantic) Word Count: 9456 Rating: Mature Major Tags/Triggers: Single Dad Tony, Recluse Bucky, Brief mention of Pepper's breast cancer and death; Silver Fox Tony, Silver Fox Bucky, Single Dad Tony, Former FBI Agent Bucky, Recluse Bucky, Alpine the Cat Summary: Bucky Barnes was a retired FBI agent living as a recluse. Content with a solitary lifestyle, he lived for years with only the company of Alpine, his feline companion. When the empty home next to theirs is filled with new neighbors, Alpine and Bucky find their lives weaving with the handsome engineer and his daughter.

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Collaborator: Marveler Card Number: 7024 Square Filled: K5 - Hindsigh Title: Taskmaster Avengers Edition Link: Tumblr Pairings: N/A Word Count: 1209 Rating: Gen Major Tags/Triggers: Point disagreements, drowning an inanimate object, taskmaster gameshow Summary: Tony suggests the idea of an Avengers Edition Taskmaster special and everybody seems pretty excited by the idea. Tony was too but hindsight is 20/20 and if it’s making people laugh, that is okay.

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Collaborator: Otpcutie Card Number: 7029 Square Filled: R2 - Jealousy Title: The Bait Link: Tumblr Pairings: Steve/Tony, Steve & Bucky, Bucky/Peter Word Count: 0.7k Rating: Teen Major Tags/Triggers: Detective AU, grumpy Steve, jealousy, besties and work partners Steve & Bucky, pining Steve, Bucky is fed up with it, undercover Tony, angst, love confession Summary: Tony goes undercover as an escort for a case.

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Collaborator: PoliZ Card Number: 7021 Square Filled: K1 - Conflicting Obligations/ Oaths Title: Blind Luck Link: AO3 Pairings: Steve/Tony Word Count: 844 Rating: Teen Major Tags/Triggers: AU: Med School, Hurt/Comfort, Eye Trauma, Miscommunication, Bathing, contact with cadaver Summary: It's late, and Steve has a phlebotomy practicum first thing tomorrow morning, but when he hears a call for help in a nearby lab, he knows he has to respond.

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Collaborator: scottxlogan Card Number: 7017 Square Filled: K4 - Seeing Red Title: Right Here Waiting Link: AO3 Pairings: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes Word Count: 15556 Rating: Mature Major Tags/Triggers: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, Not Peggy Carter Friendly, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Tension, Confrontations, Pride, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Drama, Angst and Feels, Fluff, Angst and Romance, Past Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Swearing, Adult Content, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Summary: It's June and Steve's still struggling with coping over discovering the truth about Bucky and Tony's relationship. When Pepper plans a post-birthday celebration party for Tony's birthday to bring everyone closer together, the scene erupts when tension reaches a boiling point. In the aftermath Tony takes matters into his own hands and has a few surprises in store for those around him.

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[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat: Genesis —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: I loved writing these chapters bc Cat is always surrounded by men and I was desperate to get her out of that 🤧-Danny

Words: 1,322

Phase Six Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘YOU AGAINST YOURSELF’ -by Ruel

xv: Miss Williams Holds Herself Accountable

"I do not need this shit right now!" Riri snatched papers from the board. "I swear to God, I was doing so well! Goin' to class on time! I must be dumb as hell— real dumb to think the princess of Wakanda and a young Avenger gonna show up at my doorstep and then shit about to pop off!"

Cat looked at her freaking out remembering how Peter had reacted when Tony had gone to his apartment to recruit him. It was a different world then, smaller.

"I think that I'm actually gonna take my chances with this merman— because at least he never brought the FBI to my garage!"

"I like her," Cat sentenced.

"Hey! Namor sank an entire ship of CIA operatives because of your little machine," Okoye informed her. "So those popo out there, are the very least of your worries."

"Oh, man," Cat muttered. "Is it wrong that I kinda like that Namor guy too?"

"Remember who's making your suit, Copy," Shuri warned her, then spoke to Riri. "Listen, we need to work together to get out of here. General, they've got us surrounded, maybe we should just split up?"

Okoye laughed. "Out of the question. Does this vehicle work?"

Riri made a face. "No."

"She's lying."

"Hey!"

"I'm sorry, you're not the one that's paying me," Cat shrugged.

"Everything in this lab works," Shuri pointed at the next option. "Including this bike."

"Don't even think about it," Okoye warned her. "Besides, there are four of us."

"Three of y'all. I'm takin' this."

Cat looked up and she felt a strange mix of emotions at the sight.

"You built one..." she said in awe.

"Whoo! I knew it! Don't tell me that you built this in two months!"

Riri chuckled. "I spent years on this. On and off... you okay?"

The mutant blinked back the tears. "Yeah! Jeez, I don't know... sorry, give me a minute..."

"Man, is it that bad?" Riri said worryingly.

"No," Cat turned back to her. "No, I just... Tony... it's a good-looking suit."

"You met Tony Stark?"

"He raised her," Shuri said. "All the Avengers did. Excuse her if she gets emotional. Have you flown it yet?"

"That thing can fly?" Okoye asked skeptically.

"There's an entire youtube channel dedicated to sightings of me."

"Spider-man and I had one of those when we first started."

"Didn't Spider-man come way before you did?"

"Riri, don't get on my bad side."

The lights went off abruptly. Cat activated M.O.U.S.E.

"Come!" Shuri handed the young girl a com, and Cat linked hers to their signal. "So we can communicate—"

"Don't try to scurry off—"

Cat nudged Riri forward. "You better soldier on, kid."

"You sure you good with what you got?" The girl asked her.

"Those are just men," Cat drew out her claws. "I won't even need my knife."

"The tactical unit will breach the entrance in three, two..."

"It's so nice to be back!" Cat whispered giddily.

"One."

The doors burst open.

"FBI DON'T MOVE!"

Cat teleported out of sight and reappeared behind one of the agents. She heard Riri igniting her repulsors. "Stay where you are!" Copycat pushed the man toward Riri's line of vision and the girl shot with no hesitation.

"Go little girl!" The mutant cheered. Cat disarmed the next guy kicking him in the face. Shuri got out of the car and activated her A.I., which drove Okoye out of the workshop while the woman shouted at her to get her out. "You'll be in trouble for that!" Cat teased her.

"Shut up and hop in!" Shuri shouted.

"Yes, your highness!"

Cat elbowed a guy and stole his gun, then kicked him on the crotch and shot him four times, though she pointed at his bulletproof vest. Another person attacked her but Cat seized them by the jacket and lifted them in the air, tossing them to the other side and knocking down two other agents in the process.

"Cat, stop playing we need to go!"

Copycat teleported one more time and landed on the back of the bike, she wrapped her arms around Shuri. "Can I drive?"

"If you find a way to switch seats in the middle of a car chase!"

Cat laughed. "It's like you don't know me."

"Griot! Give me a visual!" Shuri used a small elevation on the road to gain speed and caused two police cars to crash.

"That was amazing!" She exclaimed.

"Next one's all for you," Shuri replied.

"I'm calling dibs on the armored car," she joked.

"Okoye we're on our way to you!" The princess announced.

"Who's with you?"

"The Heathen!" Cat said happily. "We're having fun!"

"That is not a good thing!"

"Police car ahead!" Copycat announced. Shuri had to drift to avoid crashing against the car, and as she did, Cat jumped and teleported, landing on the vehicle's roof. "Go ahead!"

Shuri drove away from the scene, Cat stabbed the roof of the car with her claws, and with her free hand, she copied Wanda's powers and ripped the hood of the vehicle leaving it bare and at her mercy.

"Now, I'm no mechanic," with the scarlet mist, she seized the car's battery and pulled it out at once. "But I think this will do!"

The car came to a halt, Cat teleported and landed in front of Shuri.

"Holy shit!" The girl twisted the hand grip.

"Scoot over!" The mutant demanded.

"That's cheating!" Shuri let go and wrapped her hands around Cat's waist.

"I never play fair!" She replied. "I'm a better driver than you anyway!"

"You don't even have a license!"

"Irrelevant!" A car caught up with them and Cat smiled at the driver. "Hi, Okoye!"

"I don't understand why this country lets you walk around freely."

"I'm just really good at escaping prison!"

"We need to find an extraction point," the woman reminded them.

"There's one across the river," Shuri let them know.

"Hey, yo'— they're cutting off the bridge!" Riri said through the coms.

"I can't teleport you two at the same time," Cat informed them. "What now?"

"Princess, there is a surveillance drone locked onto you."

"How high?"

"Thirty thousand feet."

"I'm not sure I can go that high," Cat said worryingly. "I never teleport in that direction."

"Hang on," Riri said. "I got it..."

The girl went up without waiting for a reply, and Cat's hands started to sweat. "You got this, kid!" She told her. "Be fast!"

Riri took down the drone, but she was now falling aimlessly. Cat tense, preparing for teleporting to aid her at any moment. "Shuri?" She said.

"Wait," the princess replied. "Riri, are you okay?"

Silence.

"Riri!" Both young women shouted.

"Yeah," she breathed heavily, her suit turned on again. "I'm good!"

Cat shouted a couple of swear words but she was in the best of moods. "Good job, kid!" Ahead there were several police cars, Cat prepared to leave her spot again. "These will take a while," she mumbled.

"No worries," Riri told her, "I got a special delivery for y'all in three, two, one!" The drone landed directly on top of the police cars, clearing out the way. "You'll recruit me now?" The girl said humorously.

"Riri, if I ever make a team of super teens, you'll be the first I'll call!" Cat laughed.

"Nice one Riri!" Shuri exclaimed.

Cat drove faster across the bridge, Riri flew ahead of them but then she came to a sudden halt. At first, Cat thought her suit had malfunctioned, but then she heard something rolling down Okoye's car.

"Shit!"

A water bomb lifted the two transportations from the ground, Cat was quick to turn in the air and seize Shuri, she used Wanda's powers to shield the both of them and landed on the ground roughly. She left the princess there and ripped out the door of Okoye's car, Cat carried her out of her seat, also teleporting her to where Shuri was.

"Stay here," she said to Okoye, Shuri seemed to be a little stunned. "I'm checking on Riri—" The girl's body started to get dragged across the pavement, something was pulling her towards the water with a rope. "Hey!" Copycat set her free with her claws, she turned the girl around and examined her face. "Mouse, vitals?"

"Stable. She passed out."

"What the hell was that?" Cat looked over the edge of the bridge, but she couldn't see anything.

"That must be the merman," Okoye said grimly.

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae​​​​ @ieatpanicattacksforlunch​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @siriuslysirius1107​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @greengarsstuff​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @itsyagirl01 @23victoria​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @espressopatronum454​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jkthinkstoomuch

[winterspiderpurrs]

Okay.....

But Bucky and Steve being body guard for one Peter Parker. Like..... I'm here for this thruple.

Peter could be:

A) just the son of famous Tony Stark

B) Mafia son of Tony Stark [ combo of the above??]

C) famous dancer/singer/model

Like.... Bucky could be former MFA fighter retired from Military. Amd Steve retired FBI agent or something.....

I know there are some stories similar to this out there...but I want MORE

[sterek-ao3feed-archive]

A Spark and a Shield

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49196602 by GrimReaperlover11 Phil Coulson can see the potential and talent in people as soon nas he meets them. So when his team is sent to handle a rogue alpha in a small town and he watches as a magic user and a werewolf dispatch it...he knows he wants them. Stiles just wanted to help people, it was why he joined the FBI in the first place and to be like his dad....but now he amis being offered a chance to take that...how can he refuse? Words: 2072, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Teen Wolf (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Clint Barton, Phil Coulson, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Original Male Character(s), Original Female Character(s), Nick Fury, Chris Argent, Peter Hale, Sheriff Stilinski (Teen Wolf), Danny Māhealani, Jordan Parrish, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Kira Yukimura, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Isaac Lahey, Malia Tate Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall/Kira Yukimura, Chris Argent/Peter Hale/Sheriff Stilinski, Danny Māhealani/Jordan Parrish, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, True Alpha Derek Hale, Magical Stiles Stilinski, BAMF Stiles Stilinski, BAMF Derek Hale, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, SHIELD Agent Stiles Stilinski, Agent Derek Hale, Good Friend Clint Barton, Good Friend Natasha Romanov (Marvel) read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/49196602

[anika-ann]

I posted 2,746 times in 2022

261 posts created (10%)

2,485 posts reblogged (90%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@chase-your-dreams-away

@murdock-and-the-sea

@avengerofyourheart

@ronearoundblindly

@captainevans

I tagged 2,744 of my posts in 2022

#r - 2,478 posts

#beautiful man - 595 posts

#so so grateful - 499 posts

#ramble - 490 posts

#chris evans - 486 posts

#reactions - 425 posts

#steve rogers - 296 posts

#steve rogers x reader - 184 posts

#writing - 167 posts

#reply - 165 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#i am usually the first to look for a hidden meaning but sometimes “come chat with me” really just means “come chat with me” 🥹

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Ice Cream (S.R.)

Type: comfort fluffy/dirty blurb

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 1300

Summary: You didn’t have exactly a great day - had an awful one, really. But it’s nothing a tub of ice-cream and a loving boyfriend couldn’t fix.

Warnings: 18+ for implied smut and suggestive language... and for that terrible pun/innuendo Tony came up with, brief violence

A/N: I’m gonna write a drabble – this time actually short, but really! Hahaha. Ahahahah, right. Here, have a very spontaneous blurb I wrote instead of studying baguette, which I’m gonna do now, excuse me-- 💕

See the full post

266 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

#4

On Va Voir, Ma Chérie (S.R.)

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 3000

Summary: You messed up. Again. Now you’re stuck with reading a stupid book for your class, in French, which you barely speak and you know you’re in for a long night.

Your favourite professor and fiancé in one person comes to your rescue. Suddenly it’s not all bad; it’s worse.

Warnings: 18+, smut (dry-humping, fingering),dirty talk, language kink and voice kink (hello self.-indulgence), French, ‘babygirl’ (no daddy kink), language

A/N: Either a standalone (becauseit’s just a prof Steve and language kink) or a part of the Attached series. Look at me crawling outta my hiatus just to share filth...

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You couldn’t believe you forgot. You couldn’t believe you forgot about this week’s reading for your European lit class.

You knew this week was going suspiciously smoothly.

See the full post

272 notes - Posted April 23, 2022

#3

Hold onto Me (S.R.)

Type: Drabble-ish PWP

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 1200

Summary: You’re a SHIELD agent in training struggling with your upper body strength. Your boyfriend offers help - and has some interesting and very motivating methods.

Warnings: smut, 18+, nsfw, PWP, unprotected sex, praise kink and captain/uniform kink (if you squint), stealth suit and its (in)appropriate use, mean-ish Steve (not really, I cannot write him mean because in my eyes he’s not), language

A/N: My hands slipped after THIS gif-fueled conversation🤭 I blame @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ for her caption and @ocean-bucky​ for tagging me in the first place 👀  Also, I used Amber’s line (I hope that’s okay, tell me if it’s not, Amber, please)

S.R. masterlist

See the full post

335 notes - Posted January 22, 2022

#2

Love on the Brain - masterlist

MCU x Criminal Minds crossover

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader, (slight allusions to past Spencer Reid x reader)

Summary: You found menacing pictures of you friend, colleague and neighbour Steve in your mailbox.  

Someone might play it off as a bad joke, but you were an agent for the Avengers Initiative and a former FBI agent. You’ve seen cases like this and you were taking no chances. Not with Steve of all people.

But you were going to need help; enter the BAU.

Characters to appear: Steve Rogers, ‘reader’, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia...

Setting: slight AU, before Avengers: Age of Ultron and Criminal Minds season 7

See the full post

406 notes - Posted July 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

In the Name of the King (S.R.)

Type: medieval/fantasy AU

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 13,000 * 

Summary:  Sir Steven Rogers, having risen from common people, now one of the most trusted knights to prince Anthony. You, nothing but a servant, albeit to Princess Maria herself. 

Love blooms in any place and it cares little for the rules of the court – much like your Steven. Then again, war cares just as little for any feelings you and your knight might harbour for each other...

Warnings: 18+ for NSFW thoughts, talk and sexy times in making, inexperienced and rather reader, probably desperately era-inaccurate, blood and mention of violence, death, religious ambiguity, tooth-rotting fluff, angst, language, (reader has hair long enough to be braided)

A/N: This is sort-of a song fic for it is based on a Czech song. You can find it here. I took the liberty to loosely translate the lyrics for you throughout the fic.

* A/N: If you prefer reading it in two parts, the best part for a split is after 5,5k words – you will find a gif there. Divider’s mine, btw. Enjoy 🥰

See the full post

451 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[darsynia]

Trust Fall | Ch 22

ARC by Eury Escodero on Unsplash | gif by @elwintersoldado

Story Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Tony/OC, ‘terrorists made us fall in love;’ IM1 timeline. In this chapter, Emory and Tony both learn how to trust new people in their lives even as they discover awful things about the people they used to trust.

Length: 4,862

Note: An ‘albedo’ is basically the measurement of the sun’s light as reflected from another object. I’m using it here as an allusion to finding out the true nature of people Emory and Tony used to trust. They see evidence of Rory and Obie’s duplicity as reflected by their harmful actions. FINALLY, am I right?

Taglist: @starryeyes2000 @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @themaradaniels @starksbf @chickensarentcheap @tiny-anne

Excerpt:

Emory says, “Honestly, after three solid months of bean soup for every meal, coffee is coffee,” and follows Clint into the kitchen. There’s a towel with one of those crochet button clasps hanging from the stove handle.

“Well, in that case, you’re just going from one bean soup to another.”

She takes his proffered cup and watches him walk over to clean the machine he’d made it with, real barista-level equipment. He shoots a look over his shoulder to catch her first sip. It’s delicious.

“Agent Barton, this is some high class bean soup. Thank you.”

Chapter Twenty-Two: Albedo

It’s one thing to dress in the same clothes as a SHIELD agent pretending to be Tony Stark’s Morning Assignation. It’s something else to picture herself leaving the helicopter on SHIELD grounds and walking into the building dressed like that! Emory chooses anxiety (asking the pilot if she can change clothes in the back of the helicopter) over mortification (having to do a walk of shame across the Triskelion helipad). She ends up having to use the fishnets as a belt to keep Tony’s pants on, but she feels less exposed when she sits back down. Now, she thinks to herself, if only the hollow ache in the pit of my stomach would go away! Emory’s sure it’ll go away once they land and she’s settled, but it almost feels like it feeds off of her anxiety.

“Clint has an extra room,” Nat says, giving her phone back. “We’ll have to finagle some sightings of you, and we’ll have to do the rest of your training there, but Fury said yes.”

“It’s all settled, just like that?” Emory asks, incredulous.

Natasha sees her expression and shrugs. “Sometimes it’s easier to ask forgiveness than permission.”

Voicemail Box, Stark, Anthony E.

2.20 PM

Mr. Stark, the FBI agents are here and I can’t find you or Harry. You aren’t in the bunker, are you? JARVIS won’t answer me, and I’ll feel very foolish if I have to explain that as your PA I don’t actually know whether you’re in your father’s bomb shelter or not! Please answer your phone.

3:10 PM

Tony, if they threaten me with obstruction I’m going to be very upset. The agents are saying they might come back with a warrant, and I know it’s a federal crime to lie to the FBI so I had to tell them I’d met Ms. Autumn. Please, PLEASE come out? I know you can get phone calls from inside there!

10:55 PM

Tony, where are you, it’s after ten! You only have enough fresh food in there for a few days! I’m… Wait, is that you on Channel-- [dial tone]

11:03 PM

You’re at a NIGHTCLUB! It made the NEWS, Tony! What if the FBI doesn't believe me? What if they think I was covering for you!? Do you know how many messages I left on Harry’s phone asking where the two of you were? I thought he was in the bunker with you trying to stop you from drinking yourself half to death! BOTH OF YOU COME HOME RIGHT NOW!!

When Tony returns from partying, he buries himself not in blankets and dreams, but files and memories. Stark Industries needs a new niche that isn’t weaponry, but draws on that expertise. Emory is at SHIELD’s mercy, and he doesn’t have any influence there. Is there something he could do that would solve both problems at once?

Some intrepid assistant in the late 80’s had digitized Howard Stark’s paper files, but they’re all mixed together, probably on purpose. He decides to track down the schematics he’d been so dazzled by when he was six and about to be sent away to boarding school; Tony had spent three glorious days digging through a couple of metal briefcases that had been accidentally left in his bedroom instead of the storage study one room over. At the time, Tony had been convinced they were for a secret government thing his dad was doing, and that was why they were sending him away to school. For his protection.

School had stripped away that sense of wonder, and eventually his father’s cold demeanor taught Tony to keep his questions to himself. Uncovering those memories is an uncomfortable process best done with the veneer of inebriation, but the physical effects mean he’s not very efficient. By dawn, the files are still elusive, and the issues that made him want to go drinking in the first place won’t go away. 

He decides to sleep on it.

Tony’s phone rings as he’s carrying the bunker pillows and Emory’s left-behind shirt up to his bedroom. His first instinct when he sees the name on the display is to be glad it’s not the FBI. His second instinct is to wonder if Coulson has learned how to manipulate people from the same place Agent Romanoff did. The man has to know that Tony was out till 3 AM. The agent probably expects to leave a message with a set of instructions he’ll expect to be followed without push-back, or Coulson’s hoping to manipulate him while he’s sleep-deprived and hung over.

As a result, Tony’s barely civil when he answers.

“You better be about to improve my mood, Doctor No.”

“Good morning. I have been asked to take over from Director Fury as your primary contact.”

“Wow,” Tony says. “Tell Boris he was almost the father figure I already had, will you?” Tony needs to yawn, but he holds it back.

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly the sort of message I was assigned to prevent,” Coulson says. The man’s deadpan delivery doesn’t change a whit. “Something’s come past my desk that I think you can help me clear up: is it true that you snuck out from under your PA’s nose yesterday afternoon to avoid a scheduled FBI interview?”

The rush of relief Tony feels is probably premature, but Coulson is handing him a resolution on a silver platter right now. “Pepper told on me? Look, I deal with a lot of acronyms. I’m pretty sure I’d have remembered if I was supposed to be at a meeting with the CIA.” He pauses for dramatic effect, then adds, “Not that I wouldn’t have still snuck out. Everybody hates those guys.”

“Are you asking me to smooth this over for you, Mr. Stark?”

“Is it illegal for me to say yes?” Tony shoots back. “Because if we’re in the plot of Entrapment, I want my money back unless there will be red lasers and hot women in skin-tight black leotards.”

He can’t help but picture Emory in the iconic outfit, and Tony tightens his hand around the spy shirt she’d left behind. The message he’d gotten from Natasha Romanoff at midnight had been promising, but sharing an apartment with another agent could be worse in the long run. The freedom Emory will gain will be tempered by the possibility of off-hours propaganda and persuasion.

“Sir?”

Oops. Coulson had been talking. Tony gives in to the yawn, making it as loud and obnoxious as possible.

“I was busy picturing that. Go on?”

“I was just saying, if we wanted to trap you, sir? We’d be more subtle. Speaking of which, any word on how long you’ll be staying in New York? I’d love to know if I’ll need to rent something long-term,” Coulson says, still as studiously polite as always, but now with a tiny edge to his tone, sharp as a razorblade. 

“I’ll be sticking around for as long as your archer plays house with my girlfriend, Phil.”

Tony doesn’t want to like this guy, mostly because it feels like there are two kinds of people in Phil Coulson’s world: the people he’s manipulating into liking him, and the people he’s screwing over very courteously. Tony’s been trying to manipulate the man right back, but it’s a delicate balance. Right before he’d left for New York, Tony had found a rare part for the guy’s beloved classic car and had it delivered by courier. That had been the carrot, and now, he supposes, comes the stick.

Coulson’s extolling the virtues of a particular apartment building he’s got an eye on when Tony interrupts. “Say, since you’re so good at passing notes, can you ask your boss if he can give me a call? I’ve got a business opportunity for him.”

There’s a moment of silence before Coulson wryly asks, “Should I address this message to ‘Boris?’ Or Director Fury?”

It's a shrewd question, and Tony's too fucking tired to play his usual hard to get. "Go with his official name this time, will you, Junior? Blame the lapse on sleep deprivation. And don't ever call me this early again, or I'll clone your voice with my AI and start releasing shit about Area 51 framing you as the source."

“Point taken, sir. Sleep well.”

Tony turns the phone off completely. “Yeah, I wish,” he says to no one. Thankfully, his head barely hits the pillow that smells faintly of Emory’s hair before he feels oblivion reaching out for him.

Emory wakes up in an actual bedroom.

Not a secure office dressed as one. Not a fancy hotel that reeks of opulent impermanence. Not a barely habitable cave with a truly embarrassing method of relieving oneself. A bedroom. The room Clint had given her even has a lock.

She’d spent so little time at her apartment while working as Rory’s PA that her last ‘home bedroom’ was pre-Rory, the room in her dad’s house. That memory is tainted by the conflict between herself and her parents about Rory’s influence, though. The time she got to spend at Tony’s mansion hadn’t felt like home either. It had passed almost like a daydream, a stolen few hours that, true to form, had ended with her being sent back to reality. When she was with him, Emory had felt like maybe she could belong there, but now, back in the real world, it’s hard not to feel foolish.

Rolling over, she buries her face in Tony’s shirt as she had so often the night before, picturing him across the room about to climb back into bed with her. It’s hard not to wonder how many women have done the same. Most of them were probably tall, glamorous, and rich, better suited to his world than she ever could be. Her rational mind is trying to tell her that Tony Stark is new to the hero business, and she was just a convenient damsel in distress. Her heart’s response is to remember the desperate catch in his voice as he screamed in the desert, angry at her for maybe dying and forcing the words ‘I love you’ from his throat.

Her instinct is to do what she’s always done: endure. This time, though, Emory wants to fight for what she wants, as terrifying as it is, as new as that is. She wants to live. She wants to love. How did everything suddenly become so hard?

Groaning, Emory gets up and makes the bed, tucking Tony's clothes under the pillow like she's burying a secret. As she has for the last few weeks, she also buries her instinct to go with the flow, to not make waves, to hide, safe and invisible. It's too late for that. Tony- or Natasha Romanoff -would find her. And if they didn't, well, thanks to the serum, she basically has an expiration date. The effects of her dependency are going to start manifesting themselves soon. 

She dresses and slips on the fuzzy slippers Clint had lent her, unlocks her door, and starts up the hallway toward the kitchen. On the way, she sees that his bedroom door is open, revealing a loft bed with a desk underneath, just like a college dorm. Most of the room is taken up by what looks like a built-in climbing wall that curves up onto the ceiling, anchored with some seriously thick cables.

“I’d offer to let you try it out, but I don’t actually have a rig, just pads for underneath. Not great for newbies,” Clint says from the other side of the hallway. He’s sipping from a mug, which he holds up. “I remember you usually avoided the SHIELD coffee. I approve. Want some of the good stuff, or did your cave detox put you in a good place?”

“Give?” Emory says, walking toward him like a mummy. She’d warmed to Barton during her training sessions, and he’s even more likeable here in his own home, relaxed and welcoming. The contrast between the way he’s treating her after knowing her for a month and the way Rory's treated her for the past nine years is stark, no pun intended.

“Right, what am I talking about? This is probably crap compared to your-- To Stark’s,” Clint says, stumbling over the right way to refer to Tony. Emory can’t blame him. Technically, she’s not supposed to be Stark’s anything.

A stubborn kernel of hope blazes in her chest, as she says, “Honestly, after three solid months of bean soup for every meal, coffee is coffee,” and follows him into the kitchen. There’s a towel with one of those crochet button clasps hanging from the stove handle.

“Well, in that case, you’re just going from one bean soup to another.”

Emory takes his proffered cup and watches him walk over to clean the machine he’d made it with, real barista-level equipment. He shoots a look over his shoulder to catch her first sip. It’s delicious.

“Agent Barton, this is some high class bean soup. Thank you.”

“I made a promise that I would indulge myself every day. This is what I picked,” Clint says.

“You mean your overhanging death wall wasn’t it?” she asks, walking over to rest her hip on the kitchen island and watch him.

He chuckles. “No.”

“Thank you, truly,” she tells him after a few more (indulgent is definitely the word) sips. “I didn’t know how on Earth I was going to balance my association with Tony and my obligations to the mission. Staying here is the perfect compromise.”

“Glad to help,” Clint says gruffly, focused on wiping off the counter. “That can be a delicate thing. Worth it, though, if he is.”

Emory blows out a long sigh, staring at her feet. “Looking at it from the other way around, I sure hope it is.” Across the room, she hears him let out a similar noise and looks over, curious. Clint looks sheepish.

“I wasn’t supposed to mention him in case it got you charged up. Sorry about that.”

“Hah, so my self-doubt saved your apartment? Does that cancel out the whole dive-bomb rescue thing on the day we met?”

"Let's not get too hasty," he teases, jumping his eyebrows at her. A second later, he shifts into 'agent' mode. "We need to make a 'game plan.' The goal is for you to take a walk and get sighted. The building itself is secure; unofficially mostly government workers and domestic violence survivors live here, but there's an unspoken agreement with the local media about that." His smile is full of promise; whether it's for her protection or for a journalist's destruction if they choose to overstep is unclear.

“Guardians and survivors, convenient,” Emory murmurs.

“Exactly.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and starts tapping at it as he speaks. “Nat wants you to get groceries today, a courier will drop off a bank card. Says here yours was--” Clint frowns, squinting at the phone in his hand. As he reads, his jaw firms up into a hard frown. “Your account was closed ten days after the initial attack in Afghanistan. By Rory Fall. She showed them Power of Attorney papers.”

Shock and dismay lock up her muscles and she sways a little. Clint reaches out and grabs her upper arm to steady her. His grip isn’t meant to hurt, she can tell, but right now, everything is heightened, so the skin under his hands burns.

“Look at me,” he says. She does, still reeling, both surprised and (horribly) not surprised. “You okay?”

“I’ve watched her turn on people for years, I just never thought--” Emory shakes her head. Her tear ducts grind to a halt with the dry pain of understanding just how much she’s lost, how different her life is. Tears are premium content now, and she’s just a regular person.

“Did you make her your POA?”

She shakes her head again. “My parents sent me the paperwork for one. It was their last-ditch effort to-- To, crap, to prevent this, to stop Rory from trying to screw me over if we had a falling out. I didn’t sign them, but I didn’t get rid of them either.” Rory must have gone through her things and falsified the documents with her own name instead of Emory’s parents’. After all, everything in Rory Fall’s life was about Rory Fall. In Rory’s mind, Emory’s salary was ‘her money in the first place,’ after she’d been deserted during the most traumatic moment of her life. 

Fuck, Emory thinks to herself. Her own ‘most traumatic’ train is heading downhill, adding events as it goes, but she’s still rationalizing, still working to understand Rory’s actions. If only her former friend’s loyalty had run that deep!

Clint guides her toward his small couch, snagging her coffee cup on the way. “So they’re forged?” He sits her down and hands over the mug.

“I would never have given her Power of Attorney over me. In Rory’s twisted mind, she probably thinks it’s her money if I’m not there to spend it, but--”

He walks away from her abruptly. “No excuses.”

She’d been trying to explain Rory’s thought process, but the marksman’s curt comment hits home. 

Emory changes tack. “At least this works out perfectly for SHIELD! It proves I have no money,” she says, taking gulping sips of her cooled coffee. He doesn't answer, his head stuck in the fridge, shuffling things around. “What are you doing? Do you have some kind of crazy ‘dormant when refrigerated’ weapon in there?”

“I’m making a grocery list. One thing at a time.”

“That works,” she says, sitting back on the couch. As she lifts the mug to drain the last sip, Emory notices the design. It says, ‘Fix It Yourself.’ The O in ‘yourself’ is a bullseye, and the sideways word ‘it’ is made up of several arrows.

The only way to do that involves crossing half the globe and lying to the person who holds her life in the palm of their hand. Emory turns the cup so the words face away, but she knows she’ll have to follow its advice anyway.

The first thing Tony does when he finally wakes up is check on the status of the palladium shipment he appropriated from SI’s factory. The weapons ordered prior to Tony’s cut-off date of mid-July have been constructed and much of the raw material deliveries have been paused. During their discussions in the limo on the way to New York, Emory had suggested that the company offer a two or three week paid vacation for the factory employees whose jobs are in question. He’d set the thought aside in favor of spending time with her, but now Tony dials up Stane’s number to put that in motion.

“Hey, Tony. I see you were finally back to your old self last night!” Obie says, in greeting.

“Yeah, well, keeping up appearances,” Tony says. A knot forms in his gut, similar to what Emory had described when dealing with Rory. He’s not a fan. “Hey, you still planning to come out this direction next week?”

“Yeah, I have some loose ends to tie up. Why? Did you need something? If you’ve got some new projects I’d be happy to tell the boar--”

“Still percolating in there,” Tony interrupts. “I was looking to get ahold of the palladium we won't be needing. Instead of cancelling it I figured I'd just take the regular shipment. It’s just less hassle if you bring it.” 

There’s a sigh on the line. “Tony, I don’t think we have any extra right now. Did you order more on top of the standard delivery for the factory?”

“We’re not using it at the factory.”

“Tony, production doesn’t just halt overnight, we--”

“I was very clear about the deadlines,” Tony says, standing up to pace. The knot has turned into a lead weight. “We’ve satisfied our obligations up to the middle of July, which is why I was about to ask you to give the whole factory staff a two week paid vacation while we shift the production lines over to something more benign.” He can hear frantic typing on Stane’s end. “You didn’t halt the lines, did you?”

“Tony--”

“Did you?”

“I thought you were going to change your mind! It’s not sound business practice to interrupt production at this kind of scale on a whim!”

He’s having trouble swallowing, but it’s not because of the anxiety, it’s because of anger. “Shut it down. All of it. By the end of this week, or I’ll fly out there and give the maintenance guys something to do after I fire a couple of repulsors at every piece of equipment!” Tony slams his hand down on a worktable, knowing Obie will hear the sound through the phone line. “Come on! You knew I wasn’t going to budge on this!”

“I needed to know you were serious, and now I know you’re serious,” Stane says, a hint of the ‘make it right’ businessman tone returning to his voice. “Tell you what: let me boost the palladium order for this next week so there's enough for both. We’ll extend production ‘till the end of July, make it a nice round number, give these workers some warning, okay? August is a better vacation month anyway. First of August they’ll get two weeks paid vacation, everyone but security.”

Tony’s jaw is so tightly clenched he can’t respond right away.

“Tony? Hey, I know you’re passionate about this stuff but we’re still a business. A month is a much better time frame to develop a new plan. You know I’m right.”

“Do it, then,” Tony grits out.

“Good man,” Obie says in the fatherly tone Tony’s come to despise. “I’ll bring the palladium in a week. When I get there, you’ll give me some kind of an idea of what we’re transitioning to, and the two of us will get the company back on solid ground. See you then.”

Stane hangs up without a response.

“JARVIS, was there ever a slow-down in production?” Tony asks, the second he sets his phone down.

“All I can find is an internal memo informing workers that there may be a temporary halt sometime in July.”

“Right.”

Tony throws himself in his chair, the momentum carrying it away from his desk, which is just as well. He needs to calm down before he makes any of this worse. He briefly considers going upstairs and getting Emory’s shirt, since it smells like her, but that reminds him too much of what he’d done at seventeen. He’d had the housekeeping staff pack up his dad’s clothes and general belongings to put them in storage right away, but kept his mothers things where they were for months. He’d yo-yo between extremes, partying it up and pretending he didn’t care, then curling up on his mother’s side of the bed hugging one of her dresses, sobbing.

With a sigh, Tony recognizes that this comparison is toxic; Emory is alive and his, a partner who needs Tony’s actions, not his sentimentality. He resolves to work on his secret project for her this evening, as soon as he gets a few things out of the way.

“All right,” he says aloud, walking the chair back to his desk without getting up, Flintstones-style. “Do we have the capability to store palladium at our New York office? There are still research labs there, right JARVIS?”

“Indeed there are.”

“Order some under the name of the most senior employee with a note that they’re to contact me and only me upon receipt, but be diplomatic. I don’t want to signal a rift.”

“Are you certain they’ll believe it was from you, sir?”

“Funny,” Tony says. “Next item: I’d like to use Stane’s Opposition Strategy on SHIELD, with some modifications. Copy over all related files and analyze them for anything that might get Nick Fury’s panties in a bunch if I implement it.”

“Estimate ten minutes for full copy, twenty more for analysis. Do you wish me to erase evidence of the copy?”

“Good catch, make it so.”

He gets up to make a smoothie, patting Dum-E on the way over. It had been JARVIS who’d suggested bringing his ‘pets,’ another point in the AI’s column of knowing Tony better than he knew himself, sometimes. As the blender spun, Tony thought over what he knew about Stane’s Oppo strategy. JARVIS will be more thorough, but there’s only so much intuition one can program in. Tony knows he probably relies too much on intuition, but something about SHIELD feels off, and before he throws in his lot with the agency, he wants to know why. It’s no different than when they run the program on a company they hope to buy out.

The key part of the Strategy is analysis. That’s what Tony wants to use on SHIELD, despite the fact that the data set will be incomplete, given how secret most of their operations are. What he’s hoping for is a glimpse into the vulnerabilities of the agency, as evidenced by what the deep dive comparisons that the Opposition Strategy might reveal. That thought prompts another one.

“Hey, J? Do a quick scan through the Not Nows and Not Yets, in projects. I want to know whether anyone’s done some poking around in the past two weeks.” The blender stops, and Tony adds, “Hell, add the current ones too, note any unusual access.”

After a minute, JARVIS says, “Two files show anomalous access, both by Mr. Stane after hours, approximately eight days ago.”

The knot is back. “Hit me.”

“Multiple copies of the Repulsor technology details and schematics in various places, some encrypted. Single copy of the Sonic Taser, encrypted. Access was from his private residence.”

“Obie, Obie, what are you doing?” Tony says, brows furrowed. “Didn’t the government threaten us with new legislation if we didn’t completely scrap and bury that Taser?”

“Colonel Rhodes likened pursuing the project further to ‘peeing on the third rail in public, within a mile of an elementary school,’ yes, sir.”

“He’s just jealous he didn’t get a working ‘Get Out of Indecent Exposure Charges Free’ card from MIT security,” Tony laughs. “God bless gender quota hiring.” A second later, he freezes in the act of taking a sip of his smoothie. “Son of a bitch. Obie didn’t destroy the prototype, did he?”

“Ascertaining that will be difficult, and likely will require physical interviews, which may create more trouble than you may wish to-- wait, what am I saying?”

“You’re saying trouble is my middle name, JARVIS. Usually you’d be right, but this time I’d like to avoid the consequences if at all--” Tony gulps down the rest of the smoothie over the word ‘possible’ and sets the cup down for his robot to clean. He points at Dum-E. “If that breaks, I’ll let a group of toddlers glue the pieces all over you, wherever they want.” He gestures broadly as he back-walks to the desk.

“Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but parents generally avoid letting their small children anywhere near broken glass,” JARVIS points out.

“Well, that’s boring,” Tony observes. “What was I saying?”

“Ironically, you were discussing your desire to avoid consequences.”

“Personally, yes. I’ll reserve judgement on Stane, though. I want to know what he’s up to, first.” 

He sits down at the desk and thinks about the Sonic Taser. Its function is really limited outside of law enforcement and military use, though he had joked about using it to make the board sit still and listen to him. The thing is inherently antagonistic; the only way to avoid total, temporary incapacitation is to already be wearing earplugs before the device is activated. 

“Do they make undetectable earplugs?” he muses aloud. He takes threats to his autonomy very seriously, unless they’re hot, wearing spandex, and digging a knee into his lower back.

“You have asked that question a total of three times since my creation, and the answer has been ‘no’ for two of those times,” JARVIS states dryly.

“That’s a yes now, then? Order me a pair.” Murphy’s Law states that if he’s prepared for a threat, it’ll never materialize, but something about Obie’s demeanor lately feels vaguely threatening. He wouldn’t put it past the guy to use the Taser to force Tony to listen to him. After Afghanistan, Tony’s through being forced to do anything. At that thought, a collage of images cross his mind’s eye, all of Emory, and he has to amend his previous assertion to ‘almost’ anything.

“Analysis complete,” JARVIS says, filling Tony’s screen with various windows of information. “Advise not exercising official channels to request mission data from the military, but speaking to Colonel Rhodes, instead. Strongly suggest not revealing any knowledge of statistical data when speaking to Agent Coulson or Director Fury. Further conclusions will require an examination of the program results.” JARVIS pauses, then adds, “In summary, I predict a high chance of panty bunching. Proceed with caution.”

Tony cracks a smile despite himself. “Will do. Run the program, I’ll call Rhodes.”

Next chapter, the effects of serum withdrawal start to hit Emory, meaning that the mission must come soon; Tony seeks to reassure her and himself with a spicy phone call.

[stony-ao3-feed]

X - X Marks the Spot (Come and Find Me)

Read it on AO3

by Kaaaaath

Steve Rogers, an FBI profiler agent attempts to hunt down and capture his nemesis The Iron Woman. The world's most wanted art thief who is always one step ahead of him.

A Red Notice AU

Words: 4461, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 24 of The A to Z of Steve Rogers and Tony Stark

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel 3490

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Natasha Stark, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Natasha Stark

Additional Tags: Female Tony Stark, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Inspired by Red Notice (2021 Thurber), Alternate Universe - Criminals, Con Artists, Explicit Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Red notice au

Read it on AO3

[aficionadoenthusiast]

adding some more cause everything is shit rn

pjo

all canon ships + valgrace i believe

Hot People Eat at Dairy Queen by itsmrlol; T; 84k; i read a lot of chat fics so i cannot remember if this is the one that had me pissing myself laughing or if it's just average funny but either way it's funny

[us🤝being literal gods] [Sparky re-named the group "nico is a gay disaster; send help"] 12:36am Ghostboy: i beg ur pardon???? Nutella: SPEAK ON IT‼️‼️‼️

mist you already by starrey_night; T, 1-10k; social media/chat fic; fucking hilarious

After the Mist mysteriously disappears, the world of Greek mythology is exposed, and the response is … just as you expected. A story told through social media

Baby Blofis College Fund by zipadeea; T; 3k; hilarious and made me feel very connected to Sally

Valerie calls her an hour later. “Sally, what the hell?” “That bad, huh?” “Bad? Sally, it’s gold. I went from squirming in my seat to crying genuine tears. And that twist, making him a Greek god, it’s exactly what we’re looking for right now. How soon can you get me the next chapter?” *** In which Sally Jackson realizes by the time the new baby is eighteen, a semester of college will cost an arm and a leg. And those Fifty Shades of Grey books sure did make a lot of money.

percy jackson and the scrutiny of his coworkers by pqrker; G; 6k; nosy mortals is such an old but fun trope in this fandom, and this one does it really well

Jim turned back to the tank and looked at Marcie the seal, who was now staring at the spot his coworker had been standing just moments before with that same strange look of reverence in her eyes. Percy Jackson truly was the oddest person Jim Elpool had ever worked with. or 5 times percy's coworkers were confounded by his fish magic, plus 1 time they try to figure it out

Daddy Issues Inc by Librarian_Alexandria; T; 10k; THIS ONE! IS THE ONE THAT WAS SO FUNNY! YAY!

Piper changes the GC name to Daddy Issues Inc, which has little to no influence over anything, and what follows is completely unrelated. Jason introduces his fellow university freshmen to his boarding school friends, also attending Olympus University, throwing Reyna and Piper, equally oblivious and disastrous, together. but not like, together-together yet anyway its a texting fic about our favs at uni and they're chaotic and this was fun to write

mcu

Tony Stark: Appliance Whisperer by Alex51324; Avengers; T; 12k; Tony just has a way with electronics

After Tony over-reacts to some SHIELD agents breaking a microwave oven, Steve begins to wonder if there's something the team should know.

you're my cherry pie by novembersmith; Venom; E; 12k; Venom learns about human reproduction and sex. There is a powerpoint presentation.

The first time Eddie suggests they have sex, Venom is, more than anything, extremely confused.

Operation Cat Whisperer by cookies5098; Spider-man; G; 5k; poor Peter is terrorized by cats. (not as heavy on the irondad trope as the summary and tags make it sound)

Peter and the cats of New York have an understanding: he helps them down from trees and tall buildings, and in return, they ignore his spider-like traits that trigger their hunter instincts. So, he honestly thinks he'll be fine when visiting Greece, one of the stray cat capitals of the world. But he's wrong. He's so fucking wrong. Feat. Peter being a walking catastrophe—thank goodness for MJ and Ned—Morgan being a juice pops fiend, and Tony being a good dad to them both.

How To Pay For Rent 💸 by fictionfeast; poolverine; E; 42k; i've read so many poolverine fics since dp&w came out, and i can confirm, this is one of the good ones

To pay for rent, Logan and Wade take odd jobs on Craigslist.

teenage wasteland by swirlees; Spider-Man; T; 10k; the AcaDec team fucking with the FBI

He doesn't set out to be a terrorist. It just...happens. And he's not even really a terrorist. He totally recognizes that it's his fault the Chitauri core ends up on the Washington Monument, but he's not trying to cause terror, ergo, not a terrorist. Just, an accident-ist. In which Spider-Man's journey into superhero-ship leads him to the accidental terrorism that sometimes comes with it, and (if you asked him) the A+ recovery he makes, featuring big brother Deadpool, an absolutely fed up group of FBI goons, mildly entertained Daredevil and Mr. Nelson, and a weirdly very supportive, kind of terrifying GenZ AcaDec crew.

Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail by MusingsOnBuckyBarnes, owlet; stucky and other avengers; M; 100-300k; I believe this one is pretty famous in the stucky and mcu fandoms, but in case you haven't read it, read it. it's hilarious, angsty, and amazing. steve and bucky's characterizations are great. this is probably the best bucky recovery fic i've read.

The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect.

trc

Sold by flightspath; pynch; E; 7.5k; idk what to say for this. the summary speaks for itself

"Eight thousand," Ronan announced. Professor Kellogg laughed unkindly. "Young man, it seems you’re confused. You’ve only re-drawn the paddle number." "Whatever, that's my bid. Eight thousand.” Another wave of whispers and gasps rippled through the room. “I'm a mechanical engineering enthusiast." He turned to address his tablemates. "But a high school dropout,” he added in a stage whisper, as if they’d asked, “so I need a tutor." He looked back up at Professor Kellogg. "I’m stupid but rich, basically.” --- In which a date with Adam is up for auction, and things go from bad to Pynch real quick

cluck cluck, motherf- by andrealyn; minor pynch; T; 3k; great look at adam and declan's relationship

What's worse than getting sick while your significant other is away? Getting sick when your stubborn future in-law is home at the Barns with you and won't admit that they're sick too. Is stubborn pride worth suffering in silence and refusing to admit that you're worse for the wear? If it means losing a game of sick chicken, then for both Adam and Declan, it is.

Surfin' On A Sound Wave, Swingin' Through The Stars by clotpolesonly; bluesey & pynch; T; 2k; I just reread this and cried

Ronan kicked the tires of a rusty Buick and turned to look Gansey up and down. “What are you supposed to be, anyway? An aspiring yacht captain who misplaced his yacht?” Gansey leveled him with an unimpressed look. “These are just my regular clothes and you know it.” He ignored Ronan’s unrepentant sniggering in favor of checking Blue’s text again. “Jane said she has a couple’s costume planned for us but wouldn’t tell me what it is, only that I should just come to the party in my favorite outfit.” “Maybe she’ll be in bright-ass green and you can be highlighters together.” “Ha very ha.

JessJesstheBest also has very funny trc fics

hi! i also love comedy! any chance we could get some more funny fic recs?

yes, absolutely!

pjo

sorry, don't have a ton of these, I tend to read more serious fics for this fandom

keeping it fruity by buoyantsaturn; valgrace, T, 4k; Leo is both so relatable and so silly, I love it

Leo huffed. “Sorry, I just don’t think I can support such senseless violence,” he grumbled, knowing that all of the excuses he and Nico had come up with over the last few years would be useless by that point. “What is a sport, really, if not an excuse to beat some stranger to a pulp?”

sex education by CordeliaRose; solangelo, E & M, 5-20k; I'm not normally a fan of smut, so if this one got me to read smut, you know it's good

Percy tries to give Nico a sex talk. It goes about as well as anyone could have predicted.

marvel

shelter order by deniigiq; team red, G, 46k; team red quarantine group chat fic, need I say more?

Little Spidey (Pink): Hello Twitter. Desperate times call for desperate measures. Spiderman has decided that we should share with you all our private chat. We will be doing so on the condition that y’all remain cool about it. You gonna be cool? (Peter decides to raise spirits of those in isolation by sharing parts of the Team Red chat online day by day.)

Fishing Isn’t Fair to the Fish by NezumiPi; defenders, T, 17k; I was not expecting this one to have so much humor. or an exorcism.

Spoilers for Defenders S1 and prior individual shows. In a magnificent display of poor judgment, Luke Cage invites the Defenders on an upstate fishing trip in they can get to know one another better and perhaps smooth over some minor interpersonal conflicts. Contains (in no particular order): Minor interpersonal conflicts, major interpersonal conflicts, moderate impersonal conflicts, Danny Rand’s undergarments, porn for the blind, misuse of pharmaceuticals, talking swans, occasional fishing, and some seriously unpleasant business.

Mr. Stark's Home for Idiot Teenagers by OffToNewPastures; Iron family, T, 98k; tbh it's been so long since I read this one that I don't remember what it's about, but I have it marked as funny, so here you go

Peter is there, slumped over the kitchen island, slowly cramming spoonfuls of Double Chocolate Cookie Crisp into his mouth, hair tousled and sticking up every which way, and Tony realizes with sudden clarity that he’s fighting a losing battle. Maybe not today, maybe he can put it off for a while, but someday he’s just going to have to give up and love this ridiculous kid. - In which Tony Stark learns object lessons about love, sacrifice, death, friendship, and parenthood; and makes his peace with the unfortunate reality that his penthouse will be crawling with asshole teenagers every weekend for the foreseeable future. Follows canon...loosely. Ahem.

Chaotic Peter by Isnt_it_pretty_to_think_so; Iron family, T, 15-20k; this one is hilarious and painful and gripping and so so beautiful, and it has a logical path to the Iron family trope that doesn't make me cringe. I stayed up to 5 am on a weekday reading it. No regrets. (My note on ao3: "Reread first story to laugh until you cry, reread second part to feel something," if anyone was doubting how I feel about this fic.)

"Is there a reason you're calling this late at night?" Tony asks, worried in spite of himself. "Tell me what's going on, kid." “Everything is one-hundred-percent fine,” Peter says. “Seriously, I've never been better. But I should let you know I have about thirty bricks of cocaine in my bedroom. Also, Karen won't let me turn off Instant Kill Mode. Also, Walmart discontinued my special razzleberry pink squeezy lemonade. Which isn't related to tonight's patrol, I'm just bummed about it.”  Or: The five times Instant Kill Mode is activated +1

Super Duper Side Effects by awesomesockes, whumphoarder; Avengers, T, 16k; most mcu fans probably recognize this one and know it's hilarious

The downside of an enhanced metabolism is that it renders most drugs completely ineffective. Captain America accepted this long ago as an occupational hazard. But after Peter sustains a serious injury in the line of duty and the doctors have no way to manage the pain, Steve decides to volunteer as a test subject for Bruce and Tony’s experimental super drug. However, the soldier ends up getting a little more than he bargained for. (Alternative title: Original Drug Tester: Steve Rogers)

Obligatory mention of the fic that caused this ask:

in technicolor by deniigiq; Marvel's various NYC vigilantes & Brett Mahoney, not rated (I'd give it a T), 120k; again. the observor pov gives the idea of wildlife being studied in their natural habitat, and it is so. fucking. funny.

Brett sighed and looked down at the folder in his hand. “Your name is Peter, right?” “Lawyer.” “Peter, we haven’t even started talking. Let’s just take a minute to ease up.” “Lawyer.” “Bud, we haven’t charged you with a crime. This is just talking.” “Law. Yer.” Goddamn. (Brett's encounters with Team Red/vigilantes and their weird fucking way of helping)

hp

Still Preoccupied... With 1979 by darkbluedark; drarry (+jily & wolfstar), T, 15-20k; pre drarry accidental time travel hanging onto their rivalry for convenience? hilarious.

It’s May 1979 and the Order has just apprehended a pair of mysterious wizards who look remarkably like a Potter and a Malfoy. Naturally, James Potter and Sirius Black are called in to identify the strangely familiar strangers and determine their backgrounds and loyalties. (This would be a lot easier if their captives weren’t convinced everyone they talk to is dead. It would also be easier if they didn’t spend half their bloody time bickering.)

sirius black and the "mystery girl" by tjmcharg; wolfstar, T, 29k; heteronormativity but for humor reasons

"You can't tell me who you're with?" Lily smiles at him hopefully. Sirius laughs. "Alright Evans, if you're so curious, I have a proposition for you" "We'll set up a little bet, you have until the end of the school year - so two months - to work out who I'm dating, or..." he pauses to think and with an evil smirk decides, "or you have to ask your crush out on a date."

pair of tossers with a cat by moonymoment; wolfstar, G, 10k; a cat nearly destroys them. in the middle of a war.

Something seemed to dawn on Remus then; something so obvious he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before. He frowned and looked at Sirius quizzically. “What?” “Are you…” Remus began, gaping slightly, “jealous of the cat, Sirius?” Sirius looked down. “I’m not jealous of the cat.” “You’re jealous of the cat!” “I am not jealous of the bloody cat.” Remus finds a stray cat on the street and brings it in. Sirius is not impressed. Chaos ensues.

(fuck jkr. for those of you who don't know me.)

(if y'all have any especially funny fics you wanna share, i would not be opposed 👀) (especially marvel and pjo 👀👀)

[ao3feed-stony]

X - X Marks the Spot (Come and Find Me)

by Kaaaaath

Steve Rogers, an FBI profiler agent attempts to hunt down and capture his nemesis The Iron Woman. The world's most wanted art thief who is always one step ahead of him.

A Red Notice AU

Words: 4461, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 24 of The A to Z of Steve Rogers and Tony Stark

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Marvel 3490

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M

Characters: Natasha Stark, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers/Natasha Stark

Additional Tags: Female Tony Stark, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Inspired by Red Notice (2021 Thurber), Alternate Universe - Criminals, Con Artists, Explicit Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Red notice au

source https://archiveofourown.org/works/44013526

[heythereunderoos]

Catching a Killer

Pairing: Forensic Anthropologist!Peter x FBI Agent! Tony Word Count: 1865 Warnings: Graphic depictions of death?

This was the first time the pair had been on a case in months. With Peter having traveled to Laos to catalog new bones discovered there and Tony having returned from his summons to the Pentagon. The two were a little on edge. Peter was excited to see the agent again, though he'd never say that aloud, and he could feel himself flushing with anticipation. Tony, though just having arrived home was trying to leave for vacation and this case just happened to get in his way.

"Is there any way you can hurry this up, kid? Just give it your best guess and I'll put someone in cuffs so I can catch my flight?"

Peter released a loud huff, choosing to ignore both Agent Stark and his ridiculous nicknames, as well as choosing to believe his flush was a result of the sun sat high in the sky. Peter could feel the sun beating down on his back, but was far too engrossed on the partially decayed remains in front of him and the markers bred within the bone that could help identify who this person was.

"From what I can see, she's female. Presence of wisdom teeth indicates they're over eighteen. Width and shape of the pelvic bone would concur with those deductions." Peter pauses for a second, snapping a pair of latex gloves onto his hands before reaching down and slightly rotating the skull. "Normally I wouldn't be so quick to state this, but since someone has a flight to catch, I figured I should inform you that from what I can currently see, it would seem the manner of death here is a homicide considering this large blunt force trauma to the back of the skull that could indicate cause of death."

"Petey, baby, I would say that a girl gettin' her skull bashed in is more than indicative of foul play." At this, Peter turned his head over his shoulder, still squatted over the body and sent the man a chilling glare. Despite what it seemed from the outside, the pair made a good team, though always fighting over seemingly trivial things, always managed to crack the case and put the bad guy in cuffs.

The agent looked at his shoes and adjusted his tie, trying to escape the look he knew was geared towards the stupid pet names that Peter absolutely despised. But Peter knew that if he was ever in a jam, or in any form of danger that Tony would be there to save him, though the boy avidly claimed he was no damsel in distress.

Having put the agent in his place, the boy returned to his work of examining the person before him. It was evident to him that the body was partially buried: as every part of the body excluding the lower half of the girl's right arm was covered in adipocere.

"Hey Pete, why does half of her look like that?"

"Like what?"

"All waxy, it's kinda freakin' me out." Peter sighed, as he had moved over to examine the patch of green grass beneath the partially exposed radius and ulna, before collecting all of his jumbled thoughts to explain the answer to the older man's question.

"From what we can see here," The boy gestured to the waxy half of her body, "we know that she was partially buried. For the sake of time, what you need to know is that because dirt is so compact it lacks oxygen in comparison to above the ground. And as a result of it raining pretty recently, the dirt is a moist anaerobic environment, prime for creating adipocere from the body's fat. The fat reacts with the water in the dirt in a process you may know as hydrolysis and creates this waxy substance." Peter couldn't help the condescending tone that seeped into his words and honestly he didn't even care to try to take it back.

"Right, knew that." The agent shrugged, running a hand through his messy hair and trying to observe the boy working, but at a decent distance. Tony had been working for the FBI for 7 years and considering this was his line of work, dead bodies were no new sight, though he liked getting guts on the rug of his car even less than he liked finding people dead.

"Surely." The kid replied in a snarky tone, attempting to formulate some sort of time of death gap within his head as his eyes focused on the remnants of flesh that were beginning to slip off of the arm bones.

With a sigh, the kid stood to his feet and began removing the gloves, making his way back to the car.

"Where the hell are ya going kid? I didn't get much insight on what the hell happened to this girl!" Stark called after him, with his ridiculously tiny notebook and pen in hand, attempting to catch up to the younger scientist.

"From what I can tell, as indicated by the skin slippage, the body has been there for approximately 2 or 3 days? It's a little difficult to gauge time of death considering adipocere takes weeks to form over an entire body and yet the arm that was left to the elements looks as if it has only been there for a few days. So the answer to your question is: I have to run more tests. Back at the lab. So we're bagging up the body, and taking surrounding soil samples. I'm sure that Bruce can collect those, so you're going to drive me back to the lab."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Well I missed breakfast for this call, so you and I are gonna head to the diner and grab a piece of pie, how's that, sweet cheeks?"

"Please just drive, Tony."

\\\\\

True to his word, Peter worked tirelessly at the lab, trying to discover the mystery of the accelerated rate of the formulation of adipocere and the slippage of skin. It had been long past 24 hours since he had eaten pie with Agent Stark, and though he could feel the exhaustion in his limbs, his mind was moving a mile a minute.

"Have you slept yet, kid?"

The boy laid the skull back on the lab table and let out a sigh, before shaking his head, his back still turned to the door and by extension, the agent.

"You really need to catch some z's in order for us to catch this guy, Pete." Still refusing to turn around, the boy stared over to the other lab table where another body laid.

"I know, Tony. This case...it's just...really getting to me." Peter swallowed the lump in his throat, attempting to shove down the load of emotions that came with working on cases like these. "I'm fine though, honestly, I feel like I could put in a couple more hours worth of work."

At this, Tony sighs, before crossing the threshold and grabbing the boy's forearm, turning him gently to face him. The agent smiled at the boy, a gentle smile, one that reassured the kid that no matter what happened, the older man would be there for him in whatever capacity he needed him to be. And so the boy gently smiled back.

"Please go nap on the couch, and I'll keep looking through what we have, see what I can find, okay?" Huffing in defeat, Peter nodded and slipped out of the room, towards his office where that heinous orange couch called his name.

\\\\\

After days upon days of endless researching, swabbing, running things through the Mass Spectrometer, calculations, phone calls, pulling strings with higher ups, and far too many all-nighters, Stark had caught the man.

He was a nobody, just like they all were. Thinking they were somebody enough to take another's life, and that was part that made Peter shiver. That was the part that reminded Peter of how he lost his brother, Harley, to some absolute nobody.

It was cases like these that shook Peter to the core, and made him reconsider his occupation. Made him wonder if he was cut out for this: looking at corpses every day and helping Tony find criminals. Criminals who felt no remorse, or sometimes who couldn't even remember their victims' names. It was days like these when he realized that he couldn't be alone. Couldn't hold himself together without someone acting as glue.

So during days like these? Tony came over.

Peter would sob, hysterically, laid atop his bed and Tony would just hold him. Tony would card his fingers through the boy's knotted, curly locks, and press kisses to his forehead. Tony would just lay there and hum gently, as the boy curled into his chest.

Tony would let him fall apart, but he would always put him back together.

"T-Tony?" The boy called out in a gravelly voice, and the man stopped his humming.

"Yes, Pete?" The man's eyes shifted from where they were focused on his hand carding through Peter's hair, to the boy's honey brown eyes, before smiling gently at him.

"W-We can do this right?" At the boy's question the man quirked an eyebrow, continuing to run his fingers through the soft strands atop the boy's head. He thought for a moment before inquiring.

"Can we do what, babe?" The boy's fists were balled up in the man's t-shirt, and silent tears streamed down his round, flushed cheeks, before he spoke up again.

"We can keep doing this. We can find bodies...and run labs and-and catch killers? We can keep looking into the face of death in order to f-find justice right? These people deserve at least that, right?" The boy looked so lost, and Tony let a soft sigh escape his lips.

"Peter...I can't even fathom how difficult this must be. How hard it must be to get out of bed every day and know that what you do is what someone did for Harley all those years ago. But you have to recognize that we're better than them. We can, and we will make sure that all of those criminals receive proper punishment for the crimes they've committed and the lives they've destroyed. Petey, baby, what we do here, together is so incredibly difficult, so incredibly taxing in that every day adds up but Pete, we save the lives of those who were potential victims. We bring peace to families and I am so incredibly sorry that you may never know that peace, but you do amazing work." The boy was shaking in his arms and so Tony held him as tight as he could without causing him pain.

"D-Do you think that maybe one-one day we'll find whoever hurt, Harley?" The man held his breath, unsure of making false promises, but he shook his head gently to himself, before nodding with fervor.

"I think that if you and I put in the time and effort that we could, yeah." Peter barely nodded on the man's chest before his honey eyes locked with the older man's dark whiskey ones.

"You wouldn't mind? P-Postponing your trip to help me?" With an airy chuckle, the man kissed the younger boys forehead and shrugged.

"Eh, the Bahamas ain't really for me anyways. What do you say we take a trip up to the NYPD and look at those old case files? See what we can dig up?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

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Just wanted to say a quick thank you to everyone that read my story is supporting all of my work! I greatly appreciate it and hope you appreciated my first piece of work for Stark Week 2k19. Anyways this was based on the tv show Bones and so yeah! Love you guys and feel free to check me out on ao3