#Featuring Nick Fury | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaznejis · 1 year ago

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Public affair- Bucky Barnes x Reader

The Avengers PR department designs the perfect fake relationship for you- the key to instant fame and high ratings. Except, you’re already in a relationship with Bucky.

Word Count: 8.2k / Read it on AO3! / Part 2!

Enjoy!

“You’re joking- tell me she’s joking right?” you laughed, turning in the padded desk chair you had been ushered into upon entering the meeting room to stare at Nick Fury- the man only stared back at you, nonchalant as ever.

“No, Miss L/N, we aren’t joking,” he rose, striding towards the refreshments table to pour himself a fresh coffee, “We find that this initiative will be … beneficial towards our engagement and how the public perceive the Avengers.”

The young, public representations co-ordinator that had informed you of the plan nodded then, shuffling a stack of folders and clicking her heels under the table; a mixture of excitement and optimism, “Miss, this project will see a significant rise in traction towards the Avengers, I mean, come on- you’re young and hot; everyone either wants to be you, be with you or see you in a beautiful, public relationship. Seeing as though the first two are impossible; this is the only option.”

“Okay,” you nodded, twirling a pen before aiming it at the woman, “Did you, may perhaps, forget the part where I’m in a relationship already?”

The woman sighed then, her lips thinning; the plump redness of her lipstick almost disappearing as stress lines creased her face. Trailing a finger down the edge of her folders, she spoke slowly- as if coaxing a rabid dog, “You see- Mr Barnes isn’t exactly, you know, the kind of person for a project like this–”

“Seriously? Isn’t a public display of affection what this is all about?”

“No, Y/N- this is about public ratings. The public will not bide well with you having any form of a relationship with someone like … Mr Barnes; it would be career suicide for me and everyone in the PR department.”

You nodded, humming and scrunching your eyebrows together as if about to say something inquisitive until your face dropped entirely, “Yeah, okay. I’m leaving.”

Nick stopped you before you could leave your seat, raising a hand and rendering you seated with the simple gesture, “Just hear her out, Miss L/N.”

“Fury- you’re telling me you approve of this? You recruited us to be superheroes; not influencers.”

Nick turned then, placing his mug of coffee down and retreating back towards the table before sitting directly across from you; a pensive look on his face, “I’m sorry Y/N, but our ratings have dropped significantly recently. If people don’t support us, they won’t want us to save them. Just hear Sophia out.”

Scoffing, you turned in your seat to glare at ‘Sophia’ who only continued to click her heels beneath the table, perhaps it had been nerves after all. “The plan is to have you appear in a few high profile locations with our high profile representative,” she reached for a remote and activated the projector before you, pictures of your ‘selection’ appeared, “So- don’t worry we have preliminarily selected your choice for you-”

“I don’t even get a choice?” you spat, leaning towards the woman in your chair; nothing but shock prevalent in your features, “So you’re shipping me off to just about anyone you can find?”

“He is not just anyone!” Sophia snapped, her curled blonde hair bobbing back and forth as she seemed genuinely offended, “We have specially selected the perfect man for you; he’s military and is the first to gain three medals of honour. He’s a similar age and he is extremely respected within the public right now as he recently donated a lot of money to a selection of charities. It’s perfect!” She sat back in her chair as if overlooking an art piece, hands clasped together.

Fury sighed, thumbing at his brow, “I’m sorry Y/N- but you’re arguably our most favoured female avenger- the public love you.” Raising his hands, he turned towards the projector where a recent video of you coaxing a herd of school children away from a fire began to play- your grip on their shoulders protective as you led each one away to safety. “You’re a positive influence towards our younger audiences and we all know that teen audiences love a good romance.”

“You know, Fury,” you spoke slowly, lifting your feet to rest them on top of the table- much to Sophia’s chagrin, “Prostitution is illegal in the United States Of America.”

“Y/N-”

“Oh my Goodness!”

“Y/N, don’t be ridiculous,” Nick composed himself, straightening his blazer and huffing at you, “It’s just a few dinners, picnics- whatever you kids like to do. You don’t even have to meet with him behind closed doors. It is strictly professional.”

Shaking your head, you huffed- lowering your feet from the table and sitting back in your chair, “And what about Bucky? Hm? What will he think of this?”

Fury opened his mouth to speak, though before he could, Sophia butted in; her voice urgent but smug, “Actually, Mr Barnes did agree to it. He was completely happy for you to do so.”

“You’re lying.” You snapped, your voice stone-cold; disgusted at the woman before you who was willing to pamper with your relationship. You and Bucky had endured too much for the lower departments of Stark Tower to have any form of a say in your relationship- too much hardship, trauma and healing as you had fought both figurative and literal battles together. Despair swirled in your gut as you realised that others didn’t see Bucky the same way you did- seeing him only for the past that he had no say in and the contractual record that created a constant, trawling paper trail behind him. Every step he took was slowed by the consequential weight of his past. They didn’t see the same Bucky that made you breakfast in the morning or cuddled into your back at night. The same Bucky that woke up sweating, crying, screaming more nights than not, the same one that had fervently torn the hair from his head as the slightest change in position reminded him of the grease and decay that had once tainted his sight. They would never understand the complexity of Bucky Barnes and the beautiful flaws that etched beneath the tinge of his skin.

Sophia’s mouth twisted in visibly faked sympathy, her lipstick now dyeing the edges of her lips red with an abrasive smudge. “Luckily, I predicted you would act like this, so I ensured to get his signature as solid proof for you. I don’t see any reason as to why you couldn’t be involved in this so you just need to scroll down and sign the next box.” She turned the screen before you and low and behold- Bucky’s signature lay before you in his individual bold scrawl. Tony had recently introduced a new system in order to avoid fraud and increase confidentiality- everything in Stark tower is accessed through fingerprints. Nothing unwanted can get in and nothing important could get out without sufficient clearance. Bucky was the only person that could have input the specific signature- the system making it impossible to replicate. Unease tinged in your throat then, if Bucky had truly agreed to this, then surely it would be for the best? If anyone were to understand the feeling of rage and disapproval within the public eye, it was Bucky.

“Did he … say anything when he agreed?”

She smiled, the creases not quite reaching her eyes as they squinted, “He said that it was a great idea and he showed his full support for you. He said, and I quote, that he will willingly watch from the sidelines. What a great boyfriend, huh?”

You nodded, your attempts to hide the upset twist of your lips a failure as you scanned your fingerprint against the screen- Sophia’s face practically alive with glee as she confirmed its existence. As you shook hands with her, confirming a later meeting date- you failed to notice the lack of input from Nick.

For hours you stewed over Bucky’s easy acceptance of the project- how he had essentially signed you away to be with another man in public whilst he watched in private. You had only recently discussed the potentiality of going public with your relationship- the irony of the conversation involving the detail of it being as simple as a few high profile sightings, a bit of PDA here and there.

Maybe he hadn’t been as comfortable as he had seemed, you pondered as you leant against the kitchen counter that night- alone in the large, dark room as you had been unable to sleep. Slipping away from Bucky’s arms had been an easy task as he had collapsed into bed after a particularly exhausting day of sparring with Sam and Steve as according to his usual training program. Whilst he had enjoyed time with his friends; entirely unaffected by this plan surrounding your image- the bomb had been dropped straight into your lap.

“Doll, is that you?” A gruff voice sounded from the hallway, the sound of bare feet against tile sounded as Bucky entered the kitchen- dressed in only a white, threadbare shirt and chequered boxers. He frowned upon seeing you, lowering the hand that had been scrubbing his eye as he spotted something in your features, “Why are you out here so late?”

“Just thirsty,” you smiled shallowly, offering him your glass of water as he neared you; curling an arm around your waist and trailing figures of eight upon your back.

“Come back to bed with me? I gotta’ get my Doll time in before I leave for that mission in the morning.”

Nodding, you smiled- cuddling into the warmth of his chest. He had been assigned to the take down of a suspected hydra base out in Mexico, He’d be gone for a week at most. You suspected that was why he had so easily agreed to the contract- its duration was only for as long as popularity surrounding the matter prevailed; which would also be a week at the most.

Before you could respond, he pulled you away from his chest; his head tilted as he furrowed his eyebrows at you, “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m-”

“Y/N, be honest with me.”

You crumpled, your teeth clinging to your lips as you stared up at his concerned features, “The project that PR made you sign for- do you … do you really approve?”

Bucky shrugged, nodding as he rubbed at your shoulders, “Of course. It would be great to be seen out like that. The people love you Y/N. I mean, it could arguably be the perfect test run for revealing our relationship to the public, you know, see how they react to this and then we can continue from there.”

You felt your stomach fall as he spoke- the remnants of betrayal shook you as the residual sense of understanding that was always directed towards Bucky attempted to outweigh it. Rational thought prevailed as you tried, begged, wished to understand exactly why he had approved of this. Bucky had previously leaned into the role of the stereotypical ‘protective boyfriend’- a constant hand on your back, ever-watchful eyes, stares across crowded rooms. This was entirely out of his character. “Really?” your voice was weak, almost betraying you to the reveal of your inner turmoil.

Bucky smiled, rubbing at your back and leaning forward to place a kiss behind your ear, his lips tracing the sensitive skin there, “Of course.” He stared down at you, curling a metal finger around a loose strand of hair and moving to tuck it behind your ear, “let’s go to bed Doll, it’s late.”

“Buck, can we talk about this again in the morning?”

“Sure.” Bucky shrugged, amusement combined with confusion graced his features as he led you back towards your shared bedroom- the dual shuffle of barefeet the only prevalent sound within the silent hallway. However, your mind spoke a different tune- insecurities and doubts swarming your mind like hawks to their prey. The usual warmth of Bucky felt cold, unfamiliar- everything felt wrong.

But if Bucky trusted the judgement of something, you would always follow it compliantly.

The conversation never managed to take place the following morning, the pillow beside you was vacant by the time you woke up. Only a note detailing the early set off for the mission left in Bucky’s wake. The note, written in his familiar scrawl, detailed his love for you- you could only think about the way in which that same writing had signed you off to be seen on the arm of another man. Your morning consisted of moping, ignoring your scheduled appointments and moping some more. It was only when Friday presented you with a particularly urgent announcement that you were able to leave your reprieve.

“Miss Y/N- Sophia has requested your presence in the meeting room to discuss your upcoming appearances.” You scoffed as you pulled on just about any pieces of somewhat matching clothing you could find- not too bothered about your look as you were staying only in the confines of Stark Tower.

“Perfect!” Sophia squealed as you walked in; a blonde, muscular man stood beside her at the head of the meeting room- wearing casual clothing suspiciously similar to yours, “Y/N, it’s perfect- I didn’t even give you a dress code and you already knew!”

Shaking your head, you entered the room; your features visibly failed to hide your confusion, “Sorry?”

“Sorry, how rude of me!” Sophia turned towards the man beside her, stepping behind him and presenting him to you by the shoulders. The man gave you a sideways smirk; his mouth slightly lopsided due to the extent of his sharp jaw, “Y/N meet John Walker- your new boyfriend!” Clapping as she completed the sentence, Sophia was practically jumping on the spot as she grinned at the two of you. Just to appease her, you shook John’s hand- smiling somewhat-warmly at him.

“Sophia- he’s not my ‘new boyfriend’ we have gone over this- strictly professional.”

“Of course, of course,” she rounded the table and lowered herself into a seat, opening a folder as the two of you sat at each seat beside her, “So, a couple of details for you both. You will begin with a simple coffee date, hence the casual clothing, stir up a little bit of talk and then a few dinners to follow. Now, to the best part, drumroll please!” Both you and John continued to stare at her, “Finally, to end the contract, you will attend the high profile Stark annual charity gala together.”

“Sorry, what?” You froze- the gala was held every year; an opportunity for Tony to flaunt his extravagant wealth under the guise of donating large sums of money to a number of causes. Most importantly, Bucky would be at this gala- the two were not supposed to cross. “Sophia, Bucky’s going to be at that gala, I can’t possibly-”

“Have you forgotten Y/N?” Her voice cold and sardonic, the sound of it grating and rendering you silent, “Mr Barnes approved of all of this.”

Nodding, you frowned, lowering your guard as the harsh reminder struck you, “Of course, but- he couldn’t have possibly agreed to this, I mean, it’s been agreed that we were going to go together- why would he go back on that?”

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Sophia shrugged her shoulders in mock confusion, appearing to be pondering on your question, “Maybe he just saw the benefits of this. There’s always other charity galas that you can attend later.”

“Sure… of course.”

“Thank you,” you watched as Sophia flipped the page of her folder, “If you feel like continuing this agreement past the gala we can- but, I see it as a great end point. Once all is done, we will simply release a statement adding it all up to rumours or just fate. Outlets will be having the time of their lives over the next week. Me and my team will give a few strategically placed source reviews throughout the period- give the story at least a bit of credibility and all,” Sophia stood suddenly then, her curls shaking at the momentum, “I was thinking we could begin now?”

Defeated, you agreed without fight; finding yourself being escorted to the ground floor with John following simple instructions- get coffee and look like you’re having fun. It wasn’t the most difficult task- you enjoyed a cup of coffee and John was a fairly nice guy.

“Hey, don’t worry about this too much- I got a girl back home myself.”

“Really?” You smiled, pleased that your pain wasn’t entirely one-sided, “So- did she agree easily too or-”

John laughed then, a smirk forming as his teeth glinted in the New York sunlight; he carried an ever-present feeling of arrogance within himself, “God, no. She kicked up a fight- it was only when they offered us the money that we agreed to this.”

Pausing, you plastered a fake smile and laughed heartily as you sensed the presence of a phone camera flashing behind you- you had been spotted. “Sorry, John, what money?” You grabbed his arm as you spoke, framing the image of the average, romantic-fueled coffee date.

“You don’t-” he turned away from the camera, looking you sincerely in the eye, “You don’t know? You shook your head, “Oh- well, I wasn’t too convinced by the whole fame thing, no offence, so I only agreed to do this if they paid me.”

Continuing your pretence, you just smiled- stroking his arm in order to appease the cameras as well as ease the swirling in your gut- had Bucky really so easily agreed to have you pawned off, simply to appease the opinion of the public? Bucky had never cared for them- not once throughout your time together had he cared about the whispers and the glares and the threats- he had ignored them, steering you away from the bustle of New York and opted to take you into the quieter streets of Brooklyn where he had grown up. The rare diners and stores that had survived since his childhood long ago had become your second home- mid-morning breakfasts and late night, nightmare-fueled outings alike. Luckily, your PR outing had not taken place in those same spots; it would’ve tarnished your relationship with those memories. Laughter and love replaced by fabricated and stilted conversation with a man you had only met that morning. Those days with Bucky had been between the two of you, nothing would ever replicate that. As you stood in the streets of New York, your hand on the arm of an unfamiliar man and the flashes of cameras whirring around you- you realised that whatever reason Bucky had, whatever had convinced him to accept this, you would wholeheartedly understand.

The story was on the front page within a number of hours, a large picture of you plastering on that fake laugh as you stroked John’s arm was relayed across the paper’s online forum- the article as sensationalised and pretentious as it could be.

NEW COUPLE ALERT

Everyone’s favourite Avenger, Y/N L/N, was spotted on the cutest coffee date in New York today, with our favourite military hero John Walker, no less! For those who are unaware of this wonderful hunk of a man, he is the first to gain three medals of honour; everyone commend him for his bravery in defending our country! Sources close to the couple confirm that this relationship is new though it has been building up for a long time with the two deciding to go public this very morning. We congratulate the couple and wish them the best.

There was no going back from this, the documentation of your supposed ‘date’ was now public- part of you hoped that Bucky would see it, feel some twinge of jealousy, regret, whatever emotions came with signing you up so willingly for something like this. Though the other part of you, the part that loved him wholeheartedly; hoped that he wouldn’t see it, hoped that this was all some big misunderstanding that could be left behind; a stupid mistake of the past.

As you stared down at the article, thumbing the screen as you stared down at the photo of yourself in the streets of New York- smile wide, eyes bright, that hand clasped around his arm- a myriad of heels sounded down the hallway.

“Y/N? Are you here?” it was Wanda, you had no doubt that Vision would be following close behind; ready to give some annoyingly insightful advice pulled from some dark corner of a forum. Beckoning her inside, you watched as she entered the room; her face held a number of emotions: stricken, confused, angry. Her left hand held her phone- the article open on your very own could be seen in glimpses as she began to wave her arms frantically. “What- what is going on Y/N? Do you need us to get rid of this? Vision can wipe it from the internet in a matter of seconds- yep- I’ll get him to track down all traces of this photo and remove it. I mean, the audacity of the public to even post things like this; Nat had a similar thing with her assistant and we got rid of that one don’t you-”

“It’s real, Wanda.”

Screeches could practically be heard as Wanda halted in her tracks, behind her Vision too paused suddenly; seemingly phasing back to reality as he halted the tracking within his database. “What do you mean? ‘It’s real’?”

“It’s not a fake, that was this morning.” Your voice was defeated, eyes casted downwards as you refused to meet the eyes of your friend.

“Y/N is correct,” Vision spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he turned to nod at Wanda, “The photo is real.”

“Y/N …” Wanda spoke slowly, her eyes swarming with confusion as she looked between the two of you, “What? I thought- what about Bucky?”

“It’s a scheme set up by the PR department to ‘improve our image’,” you acted out finger quotes sarcastically, “be seen with a nice guy on a few outings and the public opinion of the Avengers soars.”

“How-” Wanda was angry now, her hands clenching as she moved to sit beside you, a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Why would you agree to this, Y/N?”

“It sounded like it would be beneficial, you know, I love helping people and if this is what’s necessary then I’m willing- it’s all strictly professional and Bucky knows-”

“Bucky consented to this?!”

“Mr Barnes did,” Vision spoke, moving to console Wanda with a hand on her back as she began to seethe, “His signature was activated within the database in regards to this contract. It’s all real.”

“Y/N, something isn’t right here,” Wanda’s fists were clenching, her chest stuttering as she stared at you- worry ever-prevalent within her eyes as she watched you, “Bucky would never agree to something like that, I mean- do you remember when you were taken on that mission in monaco? You were gone for three days and the entire time he was inconsolable; stopping at nothing to get you back. There’s no way that same man would agree to something like this for you.”

You could only stare back at her, your lips twisting and stomach clenching as you smiled uneasily, “Well, it’s all been agreed to now. No going back.”

“Okay, well promise me you’ll be careful? God knows the type of people Tony hired for this place.”

You laughed, smiling and nodding at Wanda as you vowed to take care, “Wait- one last thing,” Wanda stopped at the door, the ends of her cardigan twirling as she turned to face you, “I have a dinner set tomorrow night- help me pick an outfit?”

The following day passed all too quickly- the picture had taken the internet by storm; thousands of trending posts, tags and conversations were now revolving around you. People were obsessed at the slightest semblance of a stereotypical romance; the slightest touch, the loving glances, the feeling of believing like you’re the only people to exist in a room. It was funny, really, the fact that what these people wished to be true was just present within the form of a different man. You hadn’t heard from Bucky since his departure, since the release of the picture- it was no different to a usual mission, he would be occupied and undercover, unable to respond to anyone’s messages let alone your own. Though, the feeling still stung- you craved for something- anger, resentment even the slightest show of concern. It almost seemed like he didn’t care.

You thought over this as you sat perched on your bed, watching as Wanda practically tore through your bedroom, waiting to be bustled into the bathroom once again with a handful of clothes.

“I know it’s not real- but if you have hundreds of cameras on you, you need to at least look your best. We can’t have you prancing around anyone’s feed not looking your best.” She threw yet another dress onto the floor behind her, “You never know, Bucky might even see a picture and realise what he’s missing out on.”

You snorted, “Sure, Mhm- he’ll definitely be taking time out of his highly confidential mission to send me a message about a picture of me on social media- something that happens every single day.”

You were wrong, so wrong.

You had been sitting, legs poised and a smile prominent on your face- the ideal image of a romantic dinner date present to the cameras flashing outside. Your chin had been placed on your palm- the image of a doting date listening intently to the fascinating words of the man before them; when your phone began to buzz incessantly.

“I’m so sorry John,” he waved you off, giving you permission to escape to the bathroom to check your phone. Your departure had been strategic: an innocent smile, a flick of the hair and a beeline straight to the bathroom. You had no doubt that the cameras had captured each moment perfectly- ready to coin the escape up to a different, highly-dramatic story. Your heart stuttered as you looked down at the phone screen upon entering the safety of the bathroom stall, “Buck” glared back at you- the ringing continued almost as soon as it had stopped. As if he was clicking the button over and over again, waiting for you to answer. Swearing, you moved to click the accept button- fear causing your legs to shake and teeth to chatter as you wondered why he was calling so obsessively- had something gone wrong on the mission? However, just as you were about to hit accept, a bustle of girls entered the bathroom- each one talking excitedly about how they had seen your date, witnessed the new budding relationship for themselves.

Your finger instead took a different route, moving to decline the call. Bucky’s calls stopped, obviously halted by the confirmation that you were unable to speak through the tune of the calls rejection. The silence allowed you to turn to your voicemails- selecting one of many that Bucky had sent you since his tirade of calls began.

“Please Doll, I am begging you, please pick up. I’m sitting here in some dead-end bar and suddenly I’m seeing your face on the TV with some… military hunk, what is going on? Darling, seriously, are you okay? I can come home immediately and we can talk this over please just pick up and tell me-”

“It’s me again, Doll, what did I do? Did I do something to upset you? I’m so so sorry that I left so abruptly I just didn’t want to wake you- I’ll be back within the next two days, please just tell me what’s going on. The last time I saw you, you were completely fine. Please just answer me.”

Lowering the phone, you stared blankly at the door of the cubicle before you; the endless chatter of the girls beginning to die down as they exited the bathroom. Why did Bucky sound so confused? Rubbing at your forehead, you scrunched your hands over your face- entirely confused as to what was going on. Bucky had willingly signed you away to hang off of the arm of John- he did not get to fuss and act confused now that it was actually happening. He had scanned that fingerprint and signed off your fate.

With a wave of rage rushing your way, tongue in cheek, you tapped over to the messenger app before selecting Bucky’s contact.

You: This is entirely your own doing. You turned off the phone before a reply could be received, shoving it to the bottom of your handbag and straightening out your clothes, before returning to your date and the ever watchful eyes of the public. John grinned at you as you returned, raising his drink as you sat back in your seat.

“I say we keep this going for another twenty minutes or so,” He spoke in a low tone, his finger trailing a drop of condensation running the length of his glass, “I’m assuming that was your man blowing up the phone, my girl is doing the same to me.” Smiling shallowly, you nodded- the fact that the only relative similarity between the two of you was the fact that neither of you wanted to be there was laughable- the background behind Sophia’s opinion that the two of you would be the perfect match was entirely a mystery.

“Well, we at least need to give them something to obsess over as we leave.” You smirked, masking it with a sip from your own glass- the volume of flashes had increased significantly since your return from the bathroom.

“Like?”

“Just follow my lead.”

Upon your joint departure, you took John’s hand in your own; your grip loose in respect for him but clasped enough to seem genuine. You plastered on a grin, seemingly mid-laugh as you were escorted from the restaurant and into the barrage of cameras- the flashing immediately increased in your appearance; a cacophony of shouts and questions immediately sounding behind them. The signature camera for a popular news network sat only a few paces from you; you wondered if this moment would be aired directly to the television Bucky had been watching only minutes ago. Just as you were about to climb into your respective car, you turned and planted a chaste but firm kiss to John’s cheek; causing the crowd to practically go wild- frantic and erratic with the physical confirmation of the public relationship of an Avenger.

As the car door closed, your smile dropped instantly; the facade wearing away instantly in the solitude of blackout windows. Sighing, you turned to Sophia who sat waiting in the seat ahead of you; practically grinning from ear-to-ear.

“I mean, I knew this was going to be a success- but this is insane.” Her phone lay active in her hand, as if she’d been dealing with a constant influx of phone calls, just as you had. “You should congratulate yourself, Y/N, you are amazing.”

“I guess being in an actual relationship helps, knowing what to do and all,” you glared at her in the central mirror, kicking off your heels and rubbing at the ridiculous lipstick you wore, “Which has been pretty much tarnished due to this little project of yours, thanks a lot.”

Sophia shrugged, continuing to smile owlishly at you; frenzied excitement in her eyes, “Well- I was actually thinking that we could continue-”

“No.”

“Why not?!”

“Why- are you serious? Let alone my own relationship, John is in one too. This needs to end, you’ve got your ratings and you’ve got your money, that was the whole purpose of this.”

Sophia could only grit her teeth, opting to stew in silence at your rejection; her greed prevalent in her lack of response. Just as the car drew close to the entrance of the compound, Sophia gasped; the sound sudden and jolting.

“What?” You snapped upon composing yourself, watching as she turned her phone screen towards you. A newly posted news article was displayed before you.

A Love Triangle Arises?

Onlookers from Mexico report the LIVE reaction of James Barnes, formally the infamous Winter Soldier, regarding the situation with Y/N L/N’s new relationship. Attached is Barnes’ live reaction as he is seen to destroy a television, stated to have displayed our latest obsession- the kiss shared between Y/N and her new love, John Walker. Insiders to the Avengers have previously corroborated rumours detailing a supposed relationship between Barnes and L/N- though with recent news, we thought that it was entirely untrue. Is there some unspoken tension left behind between Y/N and James? Which couple do you prefer?

“Show me the video of me and John.” You ordered, watching as Sophia frantically switched tabs and pulled up the video. Despite only kissing John on the cheek, the video had been tailored to be from an angle that suggested otherwise; the car door disguising the two of you as your movement suggested that a kiss had been shared. “No, no, no.” You chanted, clicking back over to the article regarding Bucky and selecting the attached video. The video was blurry, possibly filmed by the bartender as they cowered behind the bar, watching as Bucky tore the screen from its hinges and tore it apart with his metal arm- his face red with anguish and eyes watery with distress.

“What is going on Sophia?” You turned to her as she began to exit the car, pausing in place, “You said that he agreed to all of this- why- why is he blowing up my phone and seeming so distressed about it all? I don’t understand.” Sophia gave no reply, instead disappearing into the late night darkness of the tower despite your calls. Before you could make chase, Steve entered the garage- a concerned crease to his brow, a hand instantly met your shoulder as he reached you.

“Y/N are you okay?” He stared down at you, his gaze urgent but sincere, “I’ve had Buck blowing up my phone all night and then I’ve seen all of these news articles- What is going on?”

The comforting timbre to his voice made you crack, collapsing into his arms instantly as you sobbed- the tirade of emotions you had felt over the previous days finally reaching a head as you were faced with the sincerity of Captain America. His arms wrapped around you protectively as you shook into his arms, blubbering and sobbing about the whole situation. How it had gone too far, how you didn’t know what to do, how you wanted to make it stop.

“Y/N, I think Wanda was right,” Steve nodded, rubbing your back and turning to lead you into a more comfortable space, “Something about this doesn’t seem right, I mean, I can’t even exaggerate when I say that Bucky’s been blowing up my phone all night- he was crying his heart out Y/N, begging me to find out what is going on with you. I’ve not heard him like that since Monaco.”

“Then … why was his signature in the contract- he allowed all of this.”

“I can’t say exactly what’s happened but, I don’t think he was as willing as it seems.”

“His signature was there, Steve. Bold and Real.”

“I know, I know.” Steve sighed, stroking his chin with his hand as he stood before you, “This just isn’t Buck, Y/N. I know you’re feeling betrayed right now but I know you know this- something isn’t right.”

Nodding, you considered the doubts that had lingered since the beginning- the questions, the worries. You trusted Bucky wholeheartedly- that aforementioned part of you that loved Bucky wholeheartedly had known that something, somewhere was amiss. “I just have to get through this charity gala,” you nodded, fidgeting with the hem of your dress; a skimpy thing Wanda had picked out for you, “I signed a contract- I have to do it. Then I will speak to Bucky.”

“He’ll be back by then. Get through that and then talk to him, as soon as you can.”

The following days leading up to the gala were spent back in your previous reprieve- waiting, waiting, waiting for the gala; waiting for Bucky to return. Every fibre of your soul yearned for him, missed him. Craved the touch of his calloused hands and the scent that could apply only to him found at the base of his neck. You missed his private smiles and his soft eyes- the way he makes you feel when his thumb draws constellations onto the blush of your cheeks or the nape of your neck. You missed his anger, his sadness, his happiness and his love. You missed his everything.

No fake relationship could ever replicate that feeling.

“Y/N, please stand still.” Sophia snapped on the night of the gala, stylists bustled around you as they fidgeted with your hair and tightened the ties of your dress. Steve had surveyed at the side of the room, his dressing being immediately before yours, smirking as his own had only taken mere minutes.

“I wish you ladies would fuss this much over me,” Steve smirked from the side of the room, very obviously bored out of his mind and ready for the night to end already.

“You don’t need it Captain,” one of the stylists giggled, to which you scoffed- much to Steve’s amusement. Once you were ready, and finally left to stand upright on your own, Steve led you towards the entrance of the gala- where you were due to meet John.

“Please just talk to him, Y/N,” Steve smiled sadly as you fixed his tie, waiting for John’s arrival, “He’s going crazy- calling and texting me constantly. An old man like me can’t deal with all this.”

You laughed at that, slapping Steve on the chest as he was ever-endearing, “I will, don’t worry,” your expression turned sombre as you turned to survey the growing crowd, wondering if Bucky had arrived yet. As you scanned the crowd, John entered your eye line; the usual smirk plastered on his face complimented by a deep blue suit; matching your gown perfectly. But, he wasn’t Bucky. He would never be Bucky. You had to keep this facade up for just a few more hours before you could collapse into Bucky’s arms, resolve everything, go back to how things had been before his departure. Before pen graced paper and your signatures came into existence on that ridiculous contract.

Offering you an arm, John led you towards the main hall; it felt like all eyes turned to you when you entered- the fresh, new, heartthrob ‘couple��. Mere acquaintances of the Avengers attempted to snidely snap a photo of the two of you and others, with a tad more respect to their name, simply eyed the two of you; humming to each other about how the tabloids had been correct. You spotted Wanda and Vision through the swarms of onlookers before you, dragging John by the arm towards them.

Wanda squealed at the sight of you, her face scrunching and copper curls bobbing in excitement, “You look beautiful, oh Vision doesn’t she look beautiful!”

“Thank you, you look beautiful too Wanda,” You beckoned her into a hug, squeezing your closest friend tight as the two of you rocked together, “Last night of this mess.” You whispered, snickering gleefully.

Wanda pulled back, looking left and right before speaking, “Have you seen him?”

Shaking your head no, you gave her a sad smile, “Have you?”

“No. But … I have seen Sam, who was on the mission with him, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s sulking in a corner somewhere around here.”

Vision piped up from beside Wanda, “That is correct, Mr Barnes was spotted on security cameras just seconds ago. I can direct you to his whereabouts?”

“No, no,” You waved your hands in the air frantically, shaking your head to the same tune, “I need to finish this off first,” You gestured to John, who had been lingering on the sidelines throughout the conversation, “Put this whole thing out of its misery.”

John stepped forward then, curling a hand around your shoulder- as careless and loose as ever, “I was hoping we could finish this off soon actually, promised the Mrs I’d be home within the hour,” He stepped back and offered you a hand, “Care for a quick dance?”

Shrugging, you accepted his hand; for once grinning at him sincerely. This dance would finally mark the end of your wretched assignment, “One dance won’t hurt anyone.”

The two of you laughed as he twirled you around the dance floor- so overjoyed at the semblance of freedom from each other; soon to no longer be tied down by the ropes and binds of your arrangement. A particular spin left you winded; clutching your chest and snorting out a laugh as you recovered.

And that’s when your eyes landed on him.

Bucky stood leaning against the bar, nursing a glass of something dark, something heavy. A drink that could infiltrate even the speed of his super soldier blood. His stubble was prominent and the dark bruises marring his eyes only accentuated that. Clenched fists could be seen exiting the sleeves of his black suit- simple, sleek, neat. Obscenely attractive. Steve stood beside him, probably attempting to keep up a somewhat coherent conversation, distracting him from what he was looking at.

You realised that his gaze had not once left you. His eyes were dark, heady, angry- his irises almost black with the obvious rage that existed within him at the sight of you with John. Grip harsh, jaw tight, breaths leaving his chest shuffled and hitched. He was furious.

The second realisation that you came to, was that something was seriously wrong.

“Y/N, Y/N? Are you okay?” John questioned beside you, stealing your gaze away from Bucky’s- his gaze seeming genuinely concerned at your sudden shift in demeanour.

“I- Um-” You stuttered, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you gripped his shoulders urgently, the pulse hammering in your throat like a sounding siren, “We need to end this now John, you can go. Please go.” The urgency in your eyes seemingly sent the message well enough; the threat of the former Winter Soldier all too present within his mind. Watching John’s hasty retreat, you prepared yourself to turn- to make eye contact with Bucky again. To see those dark, hooded eyes. To force yourself not to run straight into his arms.

Not appropriate right now.

Slowly, you turned your head- making direct eye contact with Bucky once again. His eyes were downturned- insistent, obsessive, begging you to provide him with some clarity. He stood stoically in place as you advanced towards him, staring determinedly at your figure and only offering Steve a grunt as he granted him a goodbye, giving up on the one-sided conversation and nodding to you as he departed, his eyes saying ‘good luck’. Keeping your chin high, you stopped beside Bucky- ordering yourself a drink at the bar and simply turning to stare at him once you were done. He stared forward resolutely, though the constant flare of his nostrils gave him away entirely.

Upon the arrival of your drink, you drank a considerable amount before turning to him, liquid courage and all, “What the hell is goin’ on Buck?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Doll,” Bucky ground his teeth, the ministrations dancing within his jaw as he still refused to meet your gaze, “I go away on a mission and the next thing I know I’m seeing you gallivanting around New York on the arm of another man.” He took a long drought from his glass, finishing the drink and slamming it down onto the counter behind him, “Nobody will tell me what is happening and now one moment I’m watching you have the time of your life on the dancefloor and the next you come to me once your little boy-toy has scurried away.”

“Bucky. Seriously? You signed the contract to allow-”

“See, this is what everyone is telling me,” Bucky turned to face you then, his mouth curling downwards and his eyes filled with anguish, “But no one is able to tell me what it is exactly that I signed- when did I sign on to this Y/N?”

“Are you kidding me?” Your tone heavy with the weight of anger and betrayal as you spat the words, Bucky’s mask of anger faltering slightly as he heard your voice, “Your signature was there- bold and animated- on that contract, Bucky.” You shook your head, mouth drooping as you spoke, sadness now present within your features, “You signed me away Bucky, you did this to me.”

“Please, Doll.” Bucky was begging now, his eyes curved and teary as he clasped your shoulders, “Please tell me what you are talking because I seriously have no idea.”

“How-” You suddenly realised that a number of inquisitive eyes had turned towards the two of you, Bucky’s hands on your shoulders- your own in mid-air reaching towards his. “We can’t do this here Buck.” At that, you dragged him from the room; the two of you entered the hallway in silence before making a number of twists and turns- ensuring shelter from the public’s ever watchful eyes. “How do you not know Buck- like I said your signature was there.” Your voice was quieter, calmer, more meagre now as you practically pleaded with the man before you.

He was pleading right back, his metal hand moving to cup your cheek- the warmth of its plates familiar and a comforting presence. “Okay, Doll- let’s start from the beginning, untangle all of this mess. I signed a contact last week which would agree that we’d be seen together at the gala. You know, I- I’ve been feeling like I’m ready to go public with you and I was told that it wouldn’t be much, just a dance and a few photo opportunities. I don’t- I understand if that upset you, I’m sorry if I was too eager and I … completely understand why you’ve decided to do this I just, I wish you could’ve done it to my face? Why did you leave me to find out like-”

Bucky’s speech was stopped by your instant attack as you pressed your lips to his, your hands gripping his stubbled cheeks like a lifeline as you pressed kiss after kiss to his mouth, attempting to drown in his taste as you sobbed against him, “I’m so sorry.” You chanted continuously as you kissed, pressing yourself as close to him as possible, “This isn’t your fault, you did nothing wrong, Buck.” Your words were halted by erratic sobs as your scenario finally reached a state of clarity, he reached to wipe the tears from your cheeks instantly; the pads of his fingers picking up the broken shards and piecing them back together perfectly, back where they belonged.

“I don’t under-”

“No, no Bucky. It’s okay.” You pulled away from him, shaking your head and breathing, grinning at him widely, “I- god this is ridiculous, I swear I am going to destroy her. I- well, PR told me that you had signed a contract agreeing for me to engage in a fake public relationship, I mean I saw your signature and instantly assumed the worst of you, I am so sorry Bucky- and I just went along with it because I trust you and what you said in the kitchen only supported that. But then everything happened and I was just so so confused about it all and you weren’t here and I just wanted to see you again-”

Bucky halted your tirade then, placing his own mouth against yours as you resumed your previous feverish kissing; clinging onto him as he intertwined his fingers into the long curls of your hair, the straps of your dress, the span of your hips. Eventually, he pulled back, wholly gripping his face in yours as his toothy grin glistened down at you- his face the perfect display of relief and adoration. “It’s okay,” he smiled, nodding as his eyes remained teary, your own face a mirror image of his, “We’re going to be okay.” He stroked your hair and placed a kiss to your forehead, rocking you and shushing you tentatively as you continued to cry into the comfort of his chest. “Let’s get you into bed and out of this gorgeous dress, yeah?” He mumbled, toying with the straps of your dress as he stared adoringly down at you, “I’ve not had my Doll-time in forever.”

Giggling, you slapped him on the chest, clasping his offered hand and allowing him to lead you down the hallway- towards the comfort of tousled sheets and intertwined legs; secret touches in the darkness of night and the relief that would settle between you as the string was no longer pulled taut.

Part 2- ‘Public Display’

#misunderstandings trope will be torn from my cold dead hands #bucky barnes x reader #bucky #bucky fanfic #wanda maximoff #MCU fanfiction #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #mcu

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traveler-at-heart · 9 months ago

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Cat's out of the (super) bag

Summary: Natasha doesn't like going on missions with you. Learning the truth might make her change her mind.

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Big thanks to @soggy-wet-cat for hearing this idea before I wrote it :)

Fury was going soft.

That was the only way to explain your presence on most of Natasha’s missions.

Rogers, she gets. He’s a super soldier and as capable as Natasha is, it doesn’t hurt to have an enhanced individual around.

But you.

Always slow, always too relaxed for Natasha’s liking. Insisting you could do more, but last week you weren’t even able to pick a lock.

Not to mention how much you avoid hand to hand combat. Natasha suspects it’s because your skill level is very low.

“She’d do better out of the field” Natasha complains for the tenth time. Fury smirks. “This isn’t funny. I’m risking my neck to protect her and she’s not even worried about getting better. I’m not doing missions with her anymore”

“Now, hold on” Fury protests. “That’s not for you to decide. And I thought you trusted me”

“It’s her I can’t trust”

“Too damn bad. You have a mission. No Rogers this time. And I better hear it went well, Romanoff”

Natasha rolls her eyes and leaves his office.

It will only go well if she convinces you to sit and wait at the jet.

—

“What did you do to piss off Romanoff?”

“Morning to you too, Nick” you smile, placing a cup of coffee in front of him. “I don’t know. It’s pretty obvious she doesn’t like me”

“I know that. Have you done anything to upset her?”

“I barely speak to her and when I do she doesn’t answer” you shrug your shoulders, going back to every interaction you’ve had with the redhead. Her intense glare comes back to haunt you. “Do you think she knows?”

“You tell me. Did you screw up?”

“I keep a low profile. Like you asked me to” you nod, knowing how important this is for him.

“Better stay that way. You’re both leaving for a mission tomorrow” the man hands you a folder and you skim it. “Keep your head down and don’t make her angrier”

“Is that even possible?”

“You don’t wanna know”

—

It’s a mess from the start. You try to stay away from Natasha, but every time your attempts go in the worst way possible. Like when she’s walking down the jet, and you move aside so she has space. Except you end up pushing a few buttons on the console and Natasha has to come back and straighten the ship.

“Stay still” she mutters, glaring. You nod and sit on your hands, more concerned with the woman’s temper than about the mission.

“Wait here” is all she says after landing the jet.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a very simple mission” Natasha says, without looking at you, focused on adjusting her widow bites. “So, if you really want to help, stay out of my way”

“That’s not the plan. I’m supposed to watch the south entrance”

“They’ll never even noticed I inflitrated the building”

“You’re not my boss. Fury is. And if he wants me to stand outside and watch the south entrance, then that is exacly what I’ll do, Natasha”

The redhead finally turns back to look at you, surprised. This is the first time she’s seen you upset. You’re walking past her, not bothering to look her way… have you always been this tall? It always seems like you’re trying to look small.

“Hey” Natasha tries to make you turn, grabbing your arm. She’s surprised by how strong you are. “You better not screw up. Or I’ll make sure you’re on desk duty for the rest of your career, Y/L/N”

“Oh, now that’s funny. I’ve been here far longer than you” you lean forward, whispering. Natasha tries to understand what you mean, her eyes scanning your features for a sign. Aware of how close you are to her, you take a step back and jump out the door, ignoring the ladder.

Ridiculous, to think that you (you!) are an incompetent agent.

Maybe Fury was wrong for asking you to do this.

You’re kicking the ground, huffing every few minutes, still fuming at Natasha’s words. All this time, you thought she didn’t like you and though it sucked, you could live with that. But saying you were bad at your job when it was the exact opposite makes you see red.

“Y/N?” Natasha says over the comms.

“Here” you answer.

“A little help”

Those three words make your stomach drop. Natasha asking for your help?

This must be life or death kind of bad.

“Tell me where you are” you ask, breaking into the building.

“Intelligence room. Surrounded by at least 20 guards”

“Use the vents to go out and grab one of their vehicles. I’ll distract them”

“You’re gonna take down 20 people all on your own?”

“Just do as I say, Romanoff”

It feels good to finally use all your strenght. You practically rip open a door that sets off an alarm, and then you throw a couple of grenades around.

Now, all eyes are on you.

Sure enough, it takes them a few minutes to come find you, but you’re ready to shoot at the first guards, and when the second wave has gone through their ammo, you prepare for hand to hand combat.

“I’m out but there are two individuals after me. Towards the east, away from the jet”

“Got it. Gentleman” you turn to the man. “Change of plans. Let me go or die. Whichever is fine by me”

They laugh, until you send one of them flying across the room, his neck snapping.

“Who’s next, ladies?”

—

How could this mission have gone so wrong? Now Natasha is navigating the snowy road on a motorcycle, being chased by two of the guards and dodging their bullets.

The cold air is stabbing her hands and face but she has to keep going. She is too far away to communicate with you, but hoped you had the good sense of going back to the jet.

She’d find a way to survive.

Or maybe not, as she notices a third motorcycle joining the chase.

Through the rearview mirror, she sees the new person approaching one of the guards. A fight ensues and an exchange of shots. Next thing Natasha saw was the motorcycles colliding.

“Y/N?” she tries the comms, hoping you aren’t stupid enough to be knocking down people. Whoever those two were, the force of the hit was enough to kill them.

And yet, one of them begins to run after Natasha and the man still chasing her. The figure is fast approaching, which is ridiculous, considering Natasha was going 150 miles per hour.

The brute is clearly scared, as his movements become more erratic, trying to get rid of Natasha and the mysterious figure at the same time. He shoots behind him and then at Natasha, getting to one of the tires in her bike.

She tries to keep the handle steady, but can’t turn on the curve ahead of her. Natasha is sent flying directly to a river, the cold water making her momentarily paralized. The currents confused her, and she couldn’t tell up from down. She swam and swam, until her arms were too tired.

She began to drift, and the last thing she saw was a shadow hovering above her.

—

“Natasha? Nat?” you plead, doing CPR as gently as you can. You don’t want to add cracked ribs to her list of injuries.

Finally, after what felt like hours but were only seconds, Natasha lunges forward, coughing and throwing up water. You hold her head, helping her until she can breathe again.

“I’m freezing” Natasha complains, looking around. “Did we lose them? How did you…” she then turns to you and widens her eyes. “You’re bleeding”

“Yeah, he shot me. It’ll stop in a second. And yes, we lost them. Though I’m sure HYDRA is sending more people to track us down. Come on” you stand up, offering your hand. Natasha takes it and is once again surpised by how strong you are.

Your body is also warmer than hers, even if you dived to rescue her. On pure instinct, Natasha comes closer, practically melting against your body heat.

“You’re hiding something” she states and you chuckle.

“Now’s not the time. Come on, I’ll carry you. There must be a safe house close to the river”

Natasha climbs to your back, and as if she weights nothing, you walk down the river, trusting she’ll keep an eye for any place to hide.

Sure enough, after ten minutes of walking, the redhead gets your attention and points at the right. There’s a small cottage hiding between some trees.

“Here” you say as you kick open the door, not bothering to find a key. You set Natasha down and go around the place, looking for blankets and anything that will make her warm.

“Did it stop bleeding?” she asks, looking at your abdomen. You nod, placing a blanket over her shoulder and checking for other injuries. “Are you a super soldier?”

You smile, thinking that Fury will be up in arms. But technically, you didn’t tell Natasha. She figured it out.

“Yes”

“Why didn’t you tell me? Who else knows?” Natasha says, pulling the blanket closer, as if it will help her cover from you as well. It’s clear she doesn’t trust you right now.

“Fury asked me to keep a low profile. He’s the only one that knows. I think he’s concerned about the integrity of SHIELD. You know him, keeping an ace up his sleeve”

“How long have you known him for?”

“Thirty years, give or take. My existence is top secret, and I spent some time away from the job. My father died, and he was the last person that I knew before everything, so… it was hard, I guess”

“I’m sorry”

“Me too. I didn’t like lying to you or pretending to be something I’m not”

Natasha kicks herself for not noticing sooner. It’s so glaringly obvious now that she has to roll her eyes at herself.

Your build, the fact that you never seem to be tired or catching your breath. Hell, the fact you never train with anyone else.

Natasha made an assumption and ran with it, instead of trying to see past it.

“Hey, you ok?” you ask, craddling her head in your hands. “Did you hit your head? Feel dizzy?”

“I’m just cold”

“We can’t start a fire” you regret, looking out. “Here” you pull her closer, your arms going around her shoulders. She tries to protest, but whatever she was about to say dies in her throat as soon as she feels how warm you are.

“This suit is all wet” she says, pulling away and taking it off. “Don’t look or I’ll kill you”

“Uh… what is going on?” your eyes dart to the ceiling, blushing. Then, you feel Natasha’s cold skin against you. “Jesus, Nat. You’re freezing”

You bury the both of you in more blankets, and feel her melting against your side. On instinct, your arms go around her waist and bring her closer, to which she responds by burying her face on the crook of your neck.

“So I can’t look but I can touch, huh?”

“Glad we understand each other”

—

“So…”

“So” Natasha says, landing the jet back home.

“Can we be friends? Friendly, at least?”

“No” she stands up, walking towards you. “Friends don’t look at each other the way you’ve been looking at me for the entire ride home”

“Can you blame me?” your eyes drift to her cleavage, remembering how she was practically naked and clinging to you as if her life depended on it.

“Wine and dine me, Y/L/N. And we’ll take it from there”

“Yes, Ma’am”

“Am I interrupting?” Fury shouts from the hangar.

“Yes” you say, but Natasha leaves, glaring at Fury on her way out.

“I’ve known you for thirty years and you still can’t keep it together around a pretty lady. And now I’m in trouble too” Fury says, clearly displeased.

“Hey, at least you don’t have that problem with Rogers, huh?”

“For now, Y/L/N. There’s always some trouble waiting around the courner”

You laugh and clap his back, leaving the jet. His plan may have failed, but you’re certainly not complaining.

Not when you have a hot date waiting for you.

#Natasha Romanoff x Reader #Natasha Romanoff x Y/N #Natasha Romanoff x You

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perlelune · 8 months ago

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Boadicea | Feyd-Rautha

You took the lives of his men. It's only fair to the na-Baron to have yours in return.

Warnings: NON-CON, Fedaykin! Reader, Fremen Reader, Forced Submission, Dacryphilia, Collars, Mouth Gag, Cannibalism, Knives, Death Fetish, Exhibitionism

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Elation bursts through your chest as the dying gurgle of yet another Harkonnen soldier fills your ears. You grow even more satisfied when his body hits the ground. Another screaming bald-headed demon lunges at you. Fierce blows are exchanged. You wince as he nicks you in the flank.

The desperation to win explodes through your veins. You slam your head into his, disorienting him long enough to drive your crysknife right through his gut. Even as he falls across the sand, blood spilling from his gaping mouth, you don’t stop. Unrelenting, you keep stabbing him, fury and vengeance driving your blade. With each strike, more of his dark blood splatters over your face, adding to his slain comrades’.

A war cry rips from your throat when he stops moving.

You rise on quaking feet, the exhaustion of hours of fending off the never-ending swarm of Harkonnen warriors crashing over you at once.

Your gaze swings across the battlefield. Horror surges within you.

It’s a slaughter. Fellow Fedaykin are burning right before your eyes. The Harkonnen artilleries rained death upon the Fremen troops the likes of which you’ve never seen before. The shock of sheer helplessness drills a gaping hole inside your chest.

Cowards, you muse bitterly. Of course they will not face you on the ground. It is well-known one Fedaykin is worth a dozen Harkonnen soldiers. None in the known universe fight more ferociously than the Fremen.

So they resorted to unleash heavy weapons from the sky. The sweltering Arrakis weather did the rest.

You whirl to your little brother. Just like you, he’s covered in grime, dirt and the putrid ichor that serves as blood to the Harkonnens.

“Run, Kaleb, hide!” you yell in Chakobsa, urgency bleeding in your tone.

You are lost. So is the rest of the Fedaykin army. But if your brother leaves now, he can use his hooks to call a maker and hitch a ride to safety.

A frown carves your little brother’s brow. “I can’t leave you,” he says.

You grip his shoulders.

“You have to. Get supplies at the village and go south with the others. Do you hear me?”

When he doesn’t reply, staring at you mouth agape, you jostle his slender frame.

“Do you hear me?” you repeat, louder this time.

He gives a shaky nod. “Yes!”

You remove the cord around your neck to place it around your brother’s instead.

A look of terror distorts his features.

“No, I can’t take your water rings,” he says, his voice trembling.

Your forehead presses against his.

“You must.”

A single errant tear spills down his cheek and you swipe it with your thumb, pressing it between his lips so it reenters his body.

“Do not waste your moisture. Now go.”

Reluctantly, you brother scampers away. A surge of relief fills you as you watch him stand before a dune slope in the distance and plant his thumper into the sand. The drumming begins. The ground starts rumbling some minutes later to signal the arrival of a worm. You dive inside a cave, taking cover as a wave of rising sand crests above the horizon. The deafening familiar hissing of Shai-Hulud surrounds you.

You close your eyes and suck in a wide breath, soothing yourself with a common Fremen saying.

The Uncleansed who have seen a crysknife may not leave Dune alive.

The screams of Harkonnen soldiers, unprepared for the sudden arrival of a sandworm, swell inside your ears as you settle in your hiding spot.

When the uproar dies, you ponder returning to the battlefield. However, whispers in the cave have you freeze in the rocky dint concealing your presence.

You lean forward to steal a peek. Your heart bounces.

Men in full Harkonnen livery stand beneath the vaulted ceiling of the cave.

Your eyes widen as you hear them idly discuss their plans to purge the remainder of the Fremen forces in the south.

Your focus sharpens. You slow your breaths and dull your quickening heartbeats.

A wild, insane idea takes shape in your head.

If you could stay hidden long enough. Perhaps you could return to Sietch Tabr. Report back to Muad’ Dib. Warn them of the Harkonnens’ plan.

A word keeps pouring from the men’s lips, one whose meaning evades you.

Na-Baron.

Confusion knits your brow.

As you continue trying to commit the conversation to memory, the chatter abruptly dies.

You go still, your mind buzzing.

The quiet deepens. Only the muffled sounds of the desert remain.

The blunt features of an Harkonnen warrior crowd your sight.

Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest.

Before you can hatch an escape plan, you’re roughly dislodged from your hiding spot.

You struggle against the arms that hold you, whirling to shove your crysknife into the man’s throat. He grabs his throat, choking on his own blood before his body finds the ground with a loud thud.

More men lunge themselves at you.

You cut down five more Harkonnen soldiers before a swarm of them surrounds you, punching and kicking you until you tumble to the ground. You cough out a trickle of blood onto the ground.

After every hit, the men attempt to interrogate you.

“Are there any more hiding like you?”

“Where are the others?”

Every inquiry thrown at you encounters a stubborn wall of silence. You will never betray the other Fremen. Though the prospect doesn’t thrill you, you’d much rather die. In fact, you’ve already embraced your inevitable fate. This is where your story ends.

You console yourself with one fact.

That at least you won’t leave this world a traitor.

It takes three men to restrain you long enough to tie you up. You only let go of your crysknife when one of the bald-headed warriors stomps over your hand with his boot, snapping your wrist bone and forcing your palm open. An ear-splitting scream rips from your throat. Still, you do not cry, refusing to waste your body moisture for these monsters.

You’re forced on your knees, hogtied while your broken wrist throbs against your back. The corpses of the men you slaughtered are dragged away.

Voices from outside grow louder as you hear the echo of steps fastly approaching.

“There is only one spy left behind. We couldn’t find the others,” one of the men says.

A gravelly voice, like the scraping of a rock against a hard surface, lands in your ears.

“They have gone south to hide in the storms,” it says.

Your pulse escalates, your gaze lifting slowly. There is something different about the newcomer. He’s tall, athletic, with delicate, aristocratic features that are unusual amongst the Harkonnen. An aura of authority hangs around him, every soldier’s stance stiffening as he enters the cave.

He must be the one in charge, you realize.

Someone hands him your crysknife. A tide of anger mounts within you at the sight. If you were free, you’d plunge it in his neck.

He gauges the blade attentively, his fingertips caressing the bloodied edge.

“Send this message to my uncle,” the newcomer says. “The North is tamed and secured. Harvest spice at will.”

“Yes, na-Baron,” a man near him replies before taking his leave.

Na-Baron. You frown. So it is him.

He takes sluggish, lithe steps towards you, the corner of his lips twisting upwards.

Your muscles coil, cold tendrils of dread clutching your insides.

Even on the battlefield, as your life hung in the balance, you didn’t feel this creeping sense of imminent danger.

The primal, gut-deep inkling that you should run…and never look back.

“You killed six of my men with a single blade,” he says, a mix of surprise and admiration laced in his raspy baritone.

“She won’t talk,” the man behind him says. “We even broke her hand but she still won’t say a word.”

He cocks his head, his tone bone-chilling as he casually states, “Tell her that’s fine. I already know everything I need to know.” A man near him hands him a flame thrower. You take a deep breath. You’ve witnessed Harkonnen soldiers use them to set ablaze corpses and catch runaway Fremen, burning them alive. There isn’t a hint of emotion in the na-Baron’s voice as he points the flame thrower at you. “Only pleasure remains.”

You lift your chin. If death you must meet, you will do it with dignity.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” you reply calmly, a wide smile spreading onto your lips.

The na-Baron’s eyes bulge and narrow, his hands dropping.

He strides forward.

“What did you just say?”

“Just get on with it, will you?” You unleash a frustrated sigh. Shouldn’t you be a charred heap of smoking flesh and bones already? What is this na-Baron wasting time for? You are resigned to it now, having used the time before to accept your fate. “I’m eager to meet my ancestors and be freed of your foul Harkonnen stench,” you taunt, hoping your insolent tongue will hasten things along.

You wait and wait, your defiant gaze never wavering.

But the deathly flames that should lick the flesh clean off your bones never come.

Instead, the na-Baron tosses the flame thrower on the ground and barks an order to one of his subordinates.

“Take her back to my chambers in our base.”

The man casts you a disdainful glare.

“But na-Baron. That woman is danger-” A swift slash across the man’s throat from the na-Baron’s blade has the man choking on his words. Blood fills his mouth, his body twitching as it sprawls across the ground.

He doesn’t spare the dying man another glance, his head slanting.

He leers at you, exerting no effort to disguise the lewd intent etched in his dark gaze.

“And make sure to tell my darlings she’s not for them to have…but for me to feast upon later.”

Fear floods your veins. You readied yourself for death, not for…whatever the Harkonnen warrior has in store for you.

“Yes, na-Baron.”

You’re hauled off the floor. When you refuse to move, one of the Harkonnen soldiers twists your broken limb to get you to lurch forward. You clench your teeth and blink back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You will not cry. You will not give them the satisfaction.

Tears are sacred. They are to honor the dead and nothing else.

Before you’re carried away, the na-Baron approaches you and frames your jaw.

“I hear Fremen do not cry, never squander their water under any circumstance. I wonder…” A sadistic smile unfurls on his pale lips, baring a glimpse of inky black teeth beneath. His thumb sweeps across your tightly pressed lips. “What will it take for you to shed a tear for me, pet?”

You shiver in the ropes as you watch the three Harkonnen women tear bloody ribbons in the male Fedaykin’s flesh with their claw-sharp black nails. The delighted purrs they emit while feasting on human flesh bounce off the black, sterile walls of the palatial chambers.

Your gaze is wide, horrified.

You’ve seen death. You’ve seen violence. But you’ve never laid eyes on such a ghoulish spectacle before. The na-Baron’s cannibalistic mates picking the meat off the man’s bones and digging their hands inside his gut. As if he were nothing but a heap of fresh meat to sate their hunger.

You want to peel your gaze away… but you can’t.

You’re paralyzed.

His lifeless blue eyes, a sinister mirror of your own due to the spice melange, send prickles through your spine.

This could have easily been you. And it would have been…weren’t it for the na-Baron’s whim changing course as swiftly as a weather vane. Just like the apparel must yield to the fickle will of the winds, you must surrender to his.

When the women are done, one of them flashes you a broad smile. Shredded pieces of organs stick to her teeth and blood covers the bottom of her face, dripping down her chin.

A shudder ripples through your spine.

Their inky, whiteless stares settle on you. They discard the mangled corpse and inch closer to you. You retreat against the wall, fear gripping your throat. Ravenous expressions light up their pretty faces.

You swallow through your aching, parched throat. Are you next? Will they do to you what they did to that poor man?

They whisper in Harkonnen. The confusion about the words pouring from their tongues stokes the terror consuming you.

Then they laugh. Strident, bloodcurdling, wicked laughs. You remain still, willing your heart not to beat so loudly.

Dying on the battlefield is one thing. Being eaten alive is another, wildly different thing. The kind of needlessly cruel death you never envisioned for yourself.

Despite the distress tossing your senses into chaos, you force yourself not to cry. No tears, you remind yourself. Not for them. Never for them.

One of them snaps her teeth in your face. Your lip quivers as blood drains from your head. Your reaction draws another round of laughter from them.

They tease you for a while, their threats disturbingly clear despite not understanding a lick of their coarse native tongue.

It’s in their hunched, predatory stance, the hunger twisting their pretty features. They could pounce on you at any time, rip you to shreds and you’d be powerless to stop them.

Their vicious taunting is still in progress when the na-Baron storms into his chambers. His arrival does nothing to alleviate your worries.

A fond smile ghosts over his lips as he soaks the scene before him.

“I see you’ve met my darlings.” The women coo as he approaches them. He lovingly cradles each of their faces, planting deep, passionate kisses on their lips. The sickening display by your fellow Fedaykin’s slain form a few feet away makes your stomach wrench. “Darlings, meet my new pet.”

“I’m not a pet,” you snarl.

The women hiss at you in concert, sounding like snakes ready to strike. You flinch backwards.

He cocks his head.

“You are whatever I say you are.” He glides towards you slowly. Once he’s in front of you, he taps the booted tip of his foot into your bruised knee. His gravelly baritone scratches along your eardrums. “Kiss my feet. I’m your master now.”

You squint at him.

“Fuck you.”

His plump mouth quirks lopsidedly. He then kicks you in the gut without ceremony. The searing pain knocks the breath from your lungs. You keel over, groaning against the tiles.

He hunkers down and grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging your head backwards. The sting in your scalp has you blink back tears before they can spill.

“In time, pretty little pet.”

Steps echo from afar. A man enters the room. The na-Baron’s authoritative timbre whips across the stiff, sweltering air of the room.

“Did you bring what I asked?”

“Yes, na-Baron,” the man replies swiftly. From the corner of your sight, you get a glimpse of metal. Panic sings inside your veins.

As your pulse soars, you’re shocked when the ropes around your frame come loose through a few nimble slashes of a knife.

You jump to your feet.

Your shocked gaze locks with his. Amusement decorates his features.

Layer after layer, he removes pieces of his armor. Until his carved alabaster, muscles are exposed to you, leaving him in little more than a thin strip of fabric hanging precariously over his tapered waist.

A second long, curved blade is tossed at your feet.

Your eyes bounce from the weapon to him. Utter confusion wars with fright within you.

When the guards begin to draw their weapons, he barks at them, “Don’t.” They place their weapons back in their sheaths. He opens his arms, the blade in his hand glinting in the dull light of the room. “Go on. This is your chance.”

You gawk at him. Is he truly baiting you to attack him? Does his life mean nothing to him? Is he a madman?

Your brows crumple. With every second, your confusion grows.

He approaches you. Adrenaline pumps through your veins. You rush to pick up the knife with your unbroken hand and point it at him.

There isn’t an ounce of fear in his eyes as he inches closer, the blade grazing his bulging pec.

“Do it,” he challenges, a clear taunt in his haughty inflection.

Your mouth trembles. What do you stand to lose? You will never see Sietch Tabr or your brother again. You’re a war prisoner. You might as well be dead. You should be dead. In another life, you would already be.

You suck in a sharp breath. You move as quickly as your feet and dwindling strength allow. He matches each of your brutal, clumsy blows. You go for his head and he dodges with ease, grabbing your broken wrist, causing you to stumble. Your breath falters, throbbing pain exploding in your limb. Grinding your teeth, you whirl and deal another series of strikes. He parries each of them, a delighted expression etched on his slender features. Anger glows within you. He’s enjoying this. While you’re in agony, he finds pleasure in every brush with death.

You graze his cheek, leaving a long cut across his flesh. A demented, black grin breaks out on his face. The fight continues for a few more minutes, the clash of metal and his feral roars swelling in the room.

It ends with him tackling you to the ground as he slams your wrists besides your head. The knife slips out of your grasp. You hold your breath, helplessness filling you as his muscular frame drapes over yours.

His lips skim against your temple.

“You fought well, sweet pet. Better than most,” he whispers. You shudder when his cool tongue drags over your cheek. “But it’s time I claim my prize.”

Ice ripples through your blood. You struggle beneath him as he rips your stillsuit from your body. Every effort to fight against him is for naught. Soon, your bruised and battered form is completely bare to him.

He drinks you in as your chest lifts and sags, lust sparkling in his dark gaze. He wrestles a collar around your neck and a ring-shaped gag on your mouth. The contraption forcing your lips apart makes you feel even more trapped than before. He tugs off the cloth covering him, revealing his massive erection, the pale tip already glistening with his arousal.

He hoists you up until you’re on your knees. His fist tangles in your hair, wrenching your neck backwards. Muffled moans of protest fly from your throat.

“I never wondered what a desert rat’s mouth felt like before. But now…” He pumps himself, his tongue darting out to sweep over his bottom lip. “I can’t stop thinking about it.”

He slips his tip between your lips, nudging you closer when you try to turn your head. That mere contact has him purring in delight. You push against his thighs, desperation swelling as your palms meet unflinching bands of thick, corded muscles. Even the tip of him feels like too much, the corners of your mouth bursting at the pressure. You groan, completely helpless as he pushes more of himself in your mouth.

He cradles your face, his grip firmer than before, and plants his feet in the ground. You gag on his length as he finds the back of your throat, the salty taste of his skin filling your mouth. Shame wells up inside you. Tears burn the back of your eyes as you choke on his size.

Nearby, the cannibalistic women laugh at your torment, sharing words in Harkonnen you don’t understand.

The na-Baron snickers, making you jolt as he shoves inside you to the hilt. The corners of your mouth ache, both from the device and his thick girth.

“Yes. She does take me gloriously, doesn’t she?" He smirks. "Like a true warrior.”

Hatred burns in your eyes as you glare up at him. He seems to bask in the sight, moaning in pleasure as he starts thrusting inside your mouth.

You’re left with no choice but to take his merciless assault. His eyes roll back as he bruises your throat and steals your breath. Stilted whimpers roll off your tongue.

Your eyes sting. You try your hardest to swallow every tear and sob, but as time goes on…your pride crumbles. In its stead, only despair remains.

Tears swell in your eyes and make a slow descent down your cheeks.

“Ah, there it is,” he rasps, collecting the droplets with his thumbs.

As he brings one to his tongue, humming at the taste, you feel him grow harder on your tongue.

The pit of your stomach sizzles. With humiliation. With defeat.

Throaty moans pour from his chest, his head tossing back as he pounds harder into your mouth.

Your body goes limp, his hands the only thing keeping you on your knees. Your vision blurs as you become nothing but a toy for the na-Baron, a vessel for his brutality. A tool to satisfy his basest needs.

“Perhaps, we shall keep that one. What do you think, darlings?” The women’s excited squeals land in your ears. He caresses your damp cheeks. “And if she ever bores us, well…” He licks his lips, a wide grin unfanning on his face. “We’ll make sure no part of her goes to waste.”

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd-rautha #dune fanfiction #dune #dune part two #feyd-rautha x reader #feyd rautha #dark!fic

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sageandravens · 1 year ago

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Patience - Something

Summary: Bucky and Sunshine’s first meeting

Featuring: Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Tony Stark

Word count: 1997

Warnings: Bucky being self deprecating. Tony being smug ass.

This was it. This is where all the hard work you’ve completed led you. All the sacrifices you’ve made to reach your goal has finally brought you to were you wanted to be in your career. Your background in Special Forces Night Stalkers Unit and your time in the CIA had caught the eye of Nick Fury, after all the constant training and tests and interviews, you found yourself staring at the grand building that was the Avengers compound. Pride swelling within your chest, this one achievement outshining all the others you have accomplished in the past.

To say that you were eager was an understatement. Your body vibrated with unrestrained excitement about meeting the people responsible for saving the world. People you had admired for their accomplishments. People you get to call your coworkers and maybe one day, your friends.

You carried on, practically skipping your way to the entrance of the building. Reaching the entrance, you smoothed your hands down the yellow knee length pencil skirt and adjusted your white blouse of the imaginary wrinkles that the nerves in your mind believed were there. With one last tug of your skirt, you plastered on a smile and walked to reception.

The receptionist had you sit on a nearby bench as she called to inform of your arrival. You smiled and greeted at whoever glanced your way and chatted with the receptionist in between her calls, your politeness helping you to pass the time.

“So, you’re the new recruit?” An amused voice snapped you out of your conversation with the receptionist. Looking to your left your eyes widened as they landed on Tony Stark himself.

“Mr. Stark! You’re leading my orientation?” You mentally slapped yourself as you straightened your posture. “I mean, yes, yes I’m the new recruit.” You offered your hand to the billionaire, internally holding back your excitement.

Ironman! Oh my god, oh my GOD.

“When I went over your file, I didn’t expect someone who was the personification of puppies and rainbows.” Stark stated. You quirked a brow at him.

“I was observing you from our security system on my way here.” He shrugged like it was no big deal for him.

“Ok, Bubbles. Let’s get this show on the road.” You grinned back at him, following his lead as he explained the workings of the compound and the work you will be doing within its walls. The whole time absorbing all the information that he spewed, asking questions, and matching him snark for snark.

Tony gave you a very grandiose tour of the facility, which you didn’t expect anything less considering his reputation. He showed you the gym, the dining facilities, the offices and the briefing rooms in the compound. Along the way, he had introduced you to some of the Avengers that you will be working closely with.

You hit it off immediately with Steve, who had congratulated you on joining the team and looked forward to working on missions with you in the future. You beamed at his praise and thanked him for being so welcoming.

Natasha took a little longer to warm up to you. Upon introductions she had stared you down while giving you a once over, making you feel as if she was trying to seek out anything that made you suspicious. She stepped back giving a nod to Tony.

“She’s good, welcome to the team.” You blinked at the abruptness of her departure, watching her as she walked down the hallway.

“You’ll get used to that, Bubbles.”

You and Tony continued on your tour, listening as Tony explained your moving in process. He lead you down another hallway with less foot traffic, you looked around at the various decorative art pieces along the walls, glittering light caught your eye, focusing on its source you saw it reflecting off a tall, muscular man ahead of you.

Reflecting off his metal arm. His very recognizable metal arm.

“Is that who I think it is?” You ask, catching Tony’s attention. He looked in your line sight and raised a brow.

“The arm doesn’t give it away?” You rolled your eyes at Stark. “I’ll introduce you, just don’t expect a warm welcome. He’s still a little frosty.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The metallic clang of the weights echoed throughout the gym. Sounds of grunts and bodies hitting the floor mats as agents trained and worked out all around the gym. It was almost mid morning by the time Bucky finally decided to put the weights down, having been in the compounds gym since five in the morning. Another night where a nightmare has plagued his already battered mind, usually, a couple of hours in the gym calmed him down but this particular nightmare he couldn’t seem to shake off.

The screams of the victims. His victims, still echoed in his mind, their horrified faces and their blood that he spilled was a slide show on repeat. The frown on his face deepened, matching the aggravated look on his face.

Frustated, he placed the weights back on the rack with a grunt. Pushing back the lose strands of his hair that escaped from his low bun away from his face he looked around, taking in all the agents around him. It was getting too crowded for his liking, and his anxiety wasn’t letting up, he gathered his items and trudged back to his room within the compound. Hoping a hot shower would ease his frazzled mind.

Bucky stomped through the halls, ignoring the way the agents and other employees quickly moved out of his way with worried looks. He knew they feared him, fearing that he would snap back into his Winter Soldier persona. Worried that whatever deprogramming they did in Wakanda didn’t actually work.

They should fear me. They’d be dumb if they didn’t. His face turned darker at the thought. He continued down the hall towards the elevator reserved for the Avengers that lead to the residential floor. The promise of a long, hot shower to process his racing thoughts and wash away the sweat from his extended workout this morning within a short distance. The hope of finally being away from lingering fearful stares and hushed whispers only an elevator ride away. He placed his hand upon the scanner built into the wall, waiting patiently for elevator to make its descent.

“Hey, Manchurian Canidate!” Bucky groaned at the sound of the irksome nickname. He silently prayed that the elevator doors would open at that second to make his escape. The frown on his face getting even deeper as he realized that his need to be alone was disappearing the closer as they footsteps approached him. Turning around, Bucky accepted his fate, hoping that his post workout odor makes this impending conversation short. Bucky was not in a mood for Starks antics today, or any day at all, really.

“Whoa, you are ripe! You know there are showers in the gym right?” Bucky rolled his eyes and grunted a response. The ding of the elevator announced the arrival of his belated escape plan, turning back around when Bucky entered the elevator and much to his annoyance Tony followed. The movement of someone clad in bright yellow caught his attention, tilting his head up, his eyes focused on the young woman standing next to Stark.

“Oh, by the way.” Tony passively gestures towards you. “This is Y/N. Our new recruit, former sergeant first class. She outranks you.” He added smugly.

Bucky refused to take the bait, giving Tony another short grunt, not even bothering to look at him. You looked at Bucky, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, the sweat clinging to his brow, evidence of his strenuous workout. But, you noticed something behind his blue eyes that spoke of something darker, an emotion that seems to plague him.

“Hi. It’s nice to meet you!” Your peppy voice rang in his ears. The joyfulness of your tone making him wince. He glanced back at you, your (y/e/c) eyes bright matching the smile that graced your lips, your hand reaching past Stark waiting for him to grasp it. Bucky just stared at it.

“Oh, well, I look forward to working with you and the others.” You say, the pep in your voice never faltered. You brought your hand back to your side, you had hoped that being your usually bright self, you would come off as a potential friend to Bucky and break the grumpy exterior Tony warned you about. No luck, not letting Bucky’s rebuff of your greeting bother you. Bucky’s eyes landed on your face once more giving you a confused look.

“I’m excited to learn how you and the rest of the team work together quickly. I know my skills will be of great use to you all. Maybe we’ll be paired up for a mission some time?” His lack of words made you want to fill the silence between you. You were alright with that, you understood that some people weren’t the talking type. Bucky’s stare made you continue on with your rambling.

“Since you know, we both have military experience. I think we would pair well with each other.” You smiled brightly once again.

Bucky continued to stare at you. Completely, blindsided that you continued to look him in the eye and talk to him without fear and worry. Did you not know who he was? Are you confusing him with someone else? Bucky shifted his gym bag on his shoulder, his grip on the strap making the mechanics of his metal arm begin to whir.

Well, if she doesn’t know who I am, she does now. Bucky frowned again.

Stark looked on between you and the living statue that was Bucky, getting some amusement from the completely polar opposite personalities in front of him. He watched on as you continued on with the one sided conversation. Smirking to himself as he watched Bucky become increasingly uncomfortable.

Ding!

Bucky let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as the elevator doors opened. He readjusted his bag, and quickly left, leaving you and Tony in the dust without so much as a goodbye. You watched as he walked away, the tension still present in his shoulders making you frown. He walked with a heaviness, a weight of bottled up emotions and dark thoughts. You recognized that stance, you’ve seen it with some of the soldiers that were under your command after grueling missions.

“Told ya he was still frosty.” Tony placed his hand upon your back guiding you out of the elevator to finish the tour of the compound.

“He’ll warm up to me, I’m sure.” You smiled at Tony with confidence.

“Hope you’re up for a challenge,”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Later that day Bucky exited his room. Refreshed and gym odor free from his long hot shower. It eased his mind somewhat, pushing back his memories enough to not be distracting. He walked to the communal kitchen of the residential floor, his stomach begging for some leftovers from the night before. Popping in a plate of some leftover fettuccine into the microwave, he leaned against the counter waiting for the time to go off.

Steve sat at the kitchen island across from him, with a cup of coffee in his hand looking at the file in front of him. He glanced over at the file that had his best friend so intrigued. He noticed that it was your file.

“Have you met the new recruit yet?” Steve asked him.

“Yup.” Bucky replied, popping the P. Steve continued to flip through your file, feeling impressed more and more with all of your achievements.

“She’s something, isn’t she?” Steve started with with awe.

Bucky thought of your bright smile, your relaxed and bright presence. He thought of you carrying on introducing yourself, never stopping even if he was not responding. But what he thought of the most was how you didn’t have fear in your eyes.

“Yeah, she’s something.”

#bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #james bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #marvel

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dearheartdont · 13 days ago

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WIP (Definitely Not) Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @laiqualaurelote :)

The next time Charles slips is in 2004, outside an electronics shop, whilst trying to convince Edwin they should nick a radio for their office.

“We could listen to the cricket, and they still do serials on Radio 4,” Charles says.

Edwin makes a considering noise.

There’s a line of televisions in the shop window. One is turned to the news. A new Conservative MP in Slough, the caption on the screen says. The footage shows the new MP shaking hands with the losing candidates.

The face is familiar. Carmichael. A boy Charles thought was his mate, or whatever passed for it at St Hilarion’s. One of the boys that chased him into a lake that night. The night he died.

Carmichael still has that posh kid’s flush - wind-bitten cheeks from weekends hunting on a country estate back then; probably the after-effects of too many glasses of red wine now.

When Charles knew him, he was well on his way to a Cambridge place, with an invitation to the Bullingdon club and the free reign that membership granted to act the cunt for 3 years to follow. The kind of boy with the connections to land a job in the City or politics. That’s what had happened, obviously. His life completely unaffected by Charles’ death.

A hand lands on Charles’ shoulder. Edwin’s. “You look … cold,” he says.

“It’s nothing, mate.” Charles feels a trickle of ice down his back, smells stagnant water.

“Are you— ”

“Just leave it,” Charles says, shrugs Edwin’s hand off and turns away from the window. Away from Edwin.

Charles’ hands are pale and shaking. His hair is wet and plastered to his head when he scrubs his fingers through it. He shivers.

Charles walks round the corner and down the side alley next to the shop. He curls into himself behind a line of bins and screws his eyes shut. Lets his breath heave and his teeth chatter, a cold fury spreading through him.

When he opens his eyes he can see Edwin’s neat, polished boots in front of him.

“I will not touch you, but neither will I leave you alone,” Edwin says. He crouches, a flash of distaste crossing his features even though there’s no chance of his coat getting mucked up by the puddle he settles in.

“You are doing well. Breathing, though not needed, is a way to regulate the emotions of ghosts.”

“I know,” Charles says through clenched teeth.

“Yes, of course you do. I have always found you to be remarkably intuitive.”

Charles tries for a ‘what could be wrong if I’m teasing’ tone of voice. “Are you trying to butter me up? If you want a favour, now’s not really the time, mate.” The words come out wrong: a little sharp, a lot pathetic.

“That is disappointing. I have decided a radio for the office would be quite the thing, and I think you should assist in selecting it.”

“Just give me a minute.”

Silence, until Edwin says, “I was thinking back on the Case of the Vauxhall Vault.”

Edwin’s level voice recounts the story, and it feels like his voice is a line to follow back to safety, to normality. As normal as two dead boys running a detective agency can be.

The chill slowly recedes and settles back into that small knot at the centre of Charles that is always there, but can be ignored most of the time.

#wip #dead boy detectives #payneland #dead boy detectives fic #tag games #my fic

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alittlebitofwonk · 8 months ago

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@bonesandthebees has me thinking about book recs, so I’m posting some of my favorites in case anyone wants something new to read!

FANTASY

Priory of the Orange Tree: This is a BRICK of a book. The hardcover would make a good weapon. But it’s also an incredibly good read. A well built fantasy world, dragons, sapphic romance, and it centers WOC characters. The prequel, A Day of Fallen Night, is also amazing.

Legends and Lattes: This is such a cozy little book! It’s fantasy, sent in a DND inspired world where a retired orc mercenary opens a coffee shop. Also, sapphic romance side plot. It’s very cute.

A Thousand Steps Into Night: A Japanese folklore inspired novel where the protagonist must make bargains with spirits to avoid becoming a demon. I learned a lot about Japanese legends and folklore in this one, and the protagonist, Miuko, is just so earnest and lovable.

SCI-FI

Project Hail Mary: Andy Weir does it again. A fantastic novel featuring a struggle across the galaxy to save earth as we know it, the most endearing alien EVER, really cool futuristic science, and a reminder that humanity also instills in us all a sense of good.

The Kaiju Preservation Society: This book is so much fuuuun. It’s just a blast. Inter dimensional travel, giant monsters, conservation, and a protagonist that had me cackling with laughter the whole time.

MYSTERY/THRILLER

The Final Girl Support Group: When the survivors of several horror-movie esque massacres are all targeted by a new killer, how will they survive? A really awesome story about a bunch of badass middle aged women who kinda hate each other teaming up to identify their would-be killer… before it’s too late.

Gone Girl: Nick Dunne didn’t kill his wife. He has no idea where she is, or what happened, and he swears he didn’t hurt her… but no one really believes him. Meanwhile, the truth is far more interesting, and a testament to the phrase “hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” This is THE female rage story.

#book recs #priory of the orange tree #day of fallen night #a thousand steps into night #project hail mary #the kaiju preservation society #legends and lattes #final girl support group #Gone Girl

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bulkyphrase · 4 months ago

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Cap-IM Rec Week - Early Canon Wednesday

Day 3 of @cap-ironman's rec week event! Today's list features stories set in the early days: comics stories set in the time when the Avengers lived in the mansion and no one knew Tony was Iron Man, or movie-verse stories from the beautiful 2011-2013 era.

Get Some Now by @sineala (616, Teen And Up Audiences, 10,376 words)

Summary: Avengers Mansion has a mysterious feline infestation. Meanwhile, Steve just can't figure out how to ask Tony out on a date. And the thirteen teleporting cats sure aren't helping matters any. Also available as a podfic read by where_thewind_blows (@flowersthroughthecracks)

Homefront by @copperbadge (MCU, Explicit, 12,860 words)

Summary: Steve Rogers is a capable leader, a kind and cheerful man, a good friend, a strong role model, and a loyal soldier. He's also teetering on the edge of suicide. Also available as a podfic read by watery_weasel

More below the cut!

Love among the Hydrothermal Vents by DevilDoll (MCU, Explicit, 26,816 words)

Summary: In which Namor has a thing for Steve, an octopus has a thing for Tony, and Steve and Tony eventually have a thing for each other. Also available as a podfic read by RsCreighton (@rosecreighton)

Semaphore by DevilDoll (MCU, Explicit, 40,040 words)

Summary: "I’m trying to like you, Tony. You’re just making it very hard." Steve Rogers/Tony Stark Also available as a podfic read by crinklysolution

Slipping off the Page into Your Hands by @sineala (616, Explicit, 68,149 words)

Summary: Soulmates have their first words to each other written on their wrists. This should make it easy. For Steve and Tony, it is anything but. Steve's problem is that the future he has awoken into is nothing he was ever expecting: he has a soulmate now. Who might be a robot. And if his soulmate is Iron Man, how can he be so attracted to Tony Stark? It should be impossible. Tony's problem is that he is Iron Man, his soulmate is a man whom he in no way deserves, and he is going to fight everything in his heart and do his best to make sure Steve never, ever finds out the whole truth. Also available as a podfic read by RsCreighton (@rosecreighton)

Someone to Love by blue_jack (@some-blue-jack) (MCU, Mature, 47,161 words)

Summary: What does it matter that it’d been because of Loki and his damn magic? He’d fallen in love with Steve once. He can do it again.

Team Building Activities by valtyr (MCU, Mature, 37,938 words)

Summary: Fury's a beautiful princess. Clint's plotting a Communist revolution. Rhodey's not sexy. Wall-E's not a documentary. Clint's not gay but he does give a great blowjob. This fic is not an AU. Also available as a podfic read by kalakirya

The Unlikely Wingman by @sineala (616, General Audiences, 1,074 words)

Summary: Clint doesn't see why he should have to follow Captain America's orders. But he also doesn't see why Captain America should have to sit around looking miserably lonely, either.

Think of This as Solving Problems (That Should Never Have Occurred) by @sineala (616, Teen And Up Audiences, 35,216 words)

Summary: No one knows Tony is Iron Man. Then Tony gets amnesia, and literally no one knows Tony is Iron Man.

Tomorrow Belongs To Me by valtyr (MCU, Explicit, 87,241 words)

Summary: Steve wakes up in the 21st Century. He doesn't think much of it, and it's dubious about him. He meets a Norse God, joins a superhero team, and feels terribly awkward about the whole monument at Arlington he's rendered obsolete by not being dead. Meanwhile, Tony is trying to make his mark on history by being the man who finally drove Nick Fury over the edge. Also available as a podfic read by kalakirya

What Lies Inside by Penumbren (616, Explicit, 21,808 words)

Summary: When the Avengers discover Captain America in the Arctic sea, they find more than just a new team member: Tony Stark discovers his fated mate. The problem is, Steve Rogers is a man out of his own time and apparently straight, and Tony's not about to force anything on the man he loves--even if it means his own death. Besides, Tony's spent his entire life keeping secrets. How can he possibly tell Steve that he's really Iron Man, let alone a werewolf? Also available as a podfic read by Saphirerose

#capimrecweek #stony #stevetony #marvel fic rec #thank you to all the authors who tag the era their stories are set in!

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the-haunted-star · 11 months ago

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The Marvels - Deleted Scene "It's Under Control"

First deleted scene entitled "It's Under Control" officially released!

(So glad they're including the other Valkyrie scene in the deleted scenes.)

The Film will release digitally on January 16th!

4K/Blu-Ray/DVD on February 13th!

Special Features to include:

FEATURETTES

Entangled – Take a cosmic trip behind the scenes on The Marvels with the cast and crew of the film.

Learn how director Nia DaCosta and the team took on such a vast production, and dive deeper with more details about Marvel’s first ever musical number.

The Production Diaries – Experience the lively, upbeat set of The Marvels as cast and crew recall candid and heartwarming moments, along with hilarious anecdotes.

DELETED SCENES

Captain-in-Residence – Kamala finds herself in Carol's ship after an unexpected switch and incredulously picks up a call from Valkyrie.

It's Under Control – Carol, Kamala, and Monica find themselves brainstorming for solutions on Aladna.

Space Yoga – Muneeba teaches yoga while an exasperated Nick Fury looks on.

The Chase – Chaos ensues as Ty-Rone chases Kamala in a tension-filled scene.

GAG REEL

Watch some hilarious outtakes on set with the cast and crew of The Marvels.

AUDIO COMMENTARY

Listen to co-writer/director Nia DaCosta and VFX Supervisor Tara DeMarco talk about the film.

#the marvels #captain marvel #ms marvel #photon #carol danvers #kamala khan #monica rambeau #goose the flerken #brie larson #teyonah parris #iman vellani #marvel cinematic universe #deleted scene #blu ray

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natsglorifiedsimp · 1 year ago

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Snacks? And...

A/n: HI HI!!! BECAUSE IM HAPPY AND I FEEL VERY GOOD I DECIDED TO WRITE A FIC BECAUSE WHY NOT HEHE

If anyone wants to talk to me just slide through my dms hehehe :))

When you got recruited by Nick Fury and got introduced to the team they were– uhm let's say confused but also scared.

You looked like an ice-cold bitch but also baby-faced. It's like someone trapped a bitch faced woman inside a woman with such a baby young-like feature.

They described you as a mean girl in a typical high school movie but with a face of a cartoon playing on Disney that every child repeats.

But they wouldn't deny you were cute and also pretty. You have strong features just like Nat and when you smile you looked like a soft baby giggling.

But they wouldn't mess with you. You talk like a bitch and have no filter.

One night Tony was making fun of the smudge on your face that you didn't know existed. He commented that it looked like someone stepped on your face. And you replied that he looked like that every day and you didn't mention a thing.

He never messed with you after that.

But when they got the news that you and Nat were dating. They were all happy and supportive.

Sam even said "The scariest couple on earth."

You weren't that bad. You were friendly in a way that it's comfortable for everyone. The teasing and bickering was always there but they loved you.

You were adorable when you smiled or cackled at someone tripping. You find all things funny even when Tony makes a face.

Nat didn't know that you had that side since you guys dated. She didn't know how carefree and clumsy you were. And the more she got to know you the more she fell hard.

"Honey?" Nat groggily said.

You slowly turned your head at her direction. "Uhm.. Yeah?"

"What are you doing?" Nat smirked.

You were laying on your stomach one hand with a single chip about to be eaten and the other is clutching on a plushie she bought for your birthday. And there was a bag of chips opened right beside you and a phone that is depending on the pillow where it's leaning.

"Eating?" you sheepishly said. "Annddd watching greys anatomy?" you grinned guiltily.

"I'm sorry," you said. "Did I wake you?" you pouted. "I'm sorry, I'll put back the chips and go to sleep"

‘Oh my god she's mad at me’ you thought. You slowly got up trying not to disturb her anymore.

"Honey, it's okay," Nat assured. "You didn't wake me" she slowly eased the crease between your eyebrows with her fingers.

"You're not mad?" you asked.

"Why would I be?" she chuckled. "You sneaking snacks here and eating them while watching Grey's Anatomy? Why would I be mad huh?" she teased.

"I woke you up" you pouted guiltily.

She rolled her eyes playfully, "I told you, you didn't" she booped your nose.

"Okay," you grinned eating the forgotten chip on your fingers. "You want some?" you offered.

"Sur—"

"Oops, that was the last one" you pointed to your mouth. "Hehe," you shyly smiled.

"Then," she puckered her lips for a kiss.

"Ew, Nat nooo" you whined. "I'm greasy"

"I don't care"

"Bu—"

Before you could say anything she kissed you without warning. You squeak in shock. She withdraw the kiss with a lick on her lips and smirked teasingly at you.

"Yuck Nat, you're gross" you rolled your eyes.

"Ugh, I'm offended." she feigned hurt. "Come on, we'll clean up and go back to sleep."

"Who said I'm done watching my show?" you raised your eyebrow.

"Me," she raised her eyebrow back.

"Who said you have an opinion?" you squinted.

"Who said you can sneak snacks?" she retorted.

"Fuck you" you grumbled grabbing the empty bag of chips.

Nat chuckled in victory.

You guys cleaned up for a couple of minutes before settling in bed. Natasha deliberately cuddled your side.

"Who said you can cuddle?" you said. Natasha chuckled. "You just won't let me win, huh?" she giggled.

"Yes." you bluntly said.

"Alright Alright," she surrendered. "You win, now can we go to sleep?"

"Mhm," you hummed happily.

-----------------------------------------------------------

A/n: a bit short and sloppy but hehe I'm sorry :))

#black widow #natasha marvel #natasha romonova #natasha romanov #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha alianovna romanova #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x y/n #black widow x female reader #black widow x reader

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haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll · 1 day ago

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Tracklist:

Introduction • Ibitsu • Furi • Naki Kyoku • Ano Onna no Onryou • Akuma No Uta

The album artwork parodying Nick Drake's Bryter Layter is not actually the original artwork for this album! The original is just a little doodle done by one of the band members. One of the physical releases for Akuma no Uta features another parody of an album cover, this one being of Venom's Welcome to Hell.

Spotify ♪ YouTube

#hyltta-polls #polls #artist: boris #language: japanese #decade: 2000s #Stoner Metal #Psychedelic Rock #Stoner Rock #Garage Punk #Drone #Noise Rock #Heavy Psych

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bullet-prooflove · 2 years ago

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Live Stream Part One: Camera Shy - Nick Amaro x Reader

Tagging: @the-adzukibean @xoxabs88xox @beardedbarba @crazy4chickennuggets @wooshwastaken @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @cosmic-psychickitty @misscharlielulu

There was blood smeared on your pretty features, that was the first thing Nick noticed when your image came through the live stream.

The instant Nick laid eyes upon your dishevelled frame he hadn't been able to tear his gaze away. His nostrils flared in outrage; his fists clenched so tightly that the skin stretched over knuckles turning them white. The right side of your face was swelling slightly from the yellow and green bruising that marred your features, your left eye was bloodshot from where it looked like someone had punched you.

You weren’t looking at the camera, your expression was defiant, jaw sticking out. Your arms were pulled behind your back, thrusting your modest chest forward. Nick could only guess that your hands were bound behind your back. You were on your knees struggling to keep your balance as you wavered from side to side disorientated.

"Look at the camera."

Hearing that deep rich voice sent a flash of rage sparking through Nick's consciousness. He growled indignantly. You let out a sharp cry as an horrendous crack erupted through the air as that large scarred hand lashed out and slapped your face. The force of the blow twisted your head, leaving you spitting blood onto the floor.

"I told you to look at the camera." That cold voice snapped again.

"Go fuck yourself ." You snapped.

The hand reached out again cupping your chin between brutal fingers. Nick could see them digging into your tender flesh as your head was yanked to face the camera. Nick was snarling, his face contorting in vengeful fury as the camera zoomed in on your disgruntled features. He understood the best way to process this situation was to disconnect, but it was easier said than done.

Agnew's worn face appeared in the view of the camera as his fingers snaked through your hair, gripping it in one hand and tilting your head back until you hissed. The other man's eyes were red rimmed and out of focus, in the days he had been away he had forgone shaving. Sweat dripped down his brow as he turned an almost maniacal grin to the camera. You ground your teeth as his grasp tightened. He was standing behind you now, watching as your chest heaved with exertion.

"He's on something." Fin murmured.

Drugs...

Drugs didn't change what was happening right now and Nick wasn't going to tolerate that as an excuse. What that man was doing to you made him want to tear something apart. There was a sickening, convulsive urge to break something, fury rushing through his veins. He would tear Agnew to pieces with his bare hands for what he was doing to you. He would destroy every bone in his body.

"Detective Amaro,” Agnew spoke into the camera, his eyes boring into Nick’s. “I hope you’re watching."

His palm came to rest upon your shoulder, fingers creeping past your collarbone in a gesture that Nick found disturbingly intimate. His fingertips undid the top button of your blouse and then another, causing the white fabric to open, revealing your cleavage.

"You don't want to see this, Nick; it will do no good." Olivia murmured, her hand rubbing up and down her friend's arm in a bid to comfort him.

A vehement growl emitted low in Nick's throat, it was primal and savage. The urge to protect you was overpowering and the fact he was forced to watch this debacle was making his blood boil with fire and molten hot fury.

"She’s pretty." Agnew said as he undid another button. “You know what I do to pretty girls.”

Nick felt that surge of ferociousness completely encumbered his body, he was going to kill Agnew for this. His fingertips trailed along the line of your white cotton bra. Your jaw tightened, you swallowed hard and closed your eyes as he caressed the swell of your breast. Nick understood what you were trying to do, it was an attempt to distance yourself from the situation, to maintain some semblance of calm. Agnew got off on the panic, he fed on it, drinking it in until he was done playing with his victims, until they were broken and catatonic.

His fingers twisted in your hair, wrenching your head to one side. You clamped your mouth, lips pursed together as he leaned into you, his breath ghosting across your ear as his gaze fixed on Nick through the camera.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

Love Nick? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#nick amaro #nick amaro imagine #nick amaro x reader #nick amaro x you #amaro x reader

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ladyantiheroine · 1 year ago

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You Taste Like Stars

Summary: Natasha sneaks Steve off during a New Years Eve party at Avengers Tower.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff

Requested by @exhausted-electron

Tags: Pegging, femdom, cunnilingus, lingerie, oral sex (fem receiving), Steve being a himbo.

Author's Note: I'm not actually a big Marvel fan, I wrote this for a friend. If I get some stuff wrong, please don't be mean to me, Marvel fans.

————————————————————————— Natasha had been eyeing the clock on the wall for what felt like hours. She wasn’t sure how long one had to stay at a party before it was no longer considered rude to lead. The tall champagne glass in her hand was down to a few drops and in the time it took her to finish it, she hadn’t gotten less bored.

From the windows atop Avengers Tower, she could get a beautiful view of the city below. Billions of glittering, golden lights that made you feel like a god looking down on the heavens. No doubt the kind of feeling that a guy like Tony was going for.

Tony was hosting the event, a New Year's Eve charity gala featuring the city’s elite at the very top floor of the former Stark Tower. He’d invited the whole crew over and Natasha felt obligated to go, even though hanging out with a bunch of rich assholes wasn’t her idea of a fun evening.

Hence, she found herself on a Saturday, standing on the edges of a party of formerly dressed socialites laughing over overpriced booze. She turned her back to the main room and stared out into the cityscape. Her reflection in the window stared back at her. Her red hair was neatly curled at her shoulder, and a new dress for the event. Long black velvet, off-shoulder with a slit up the skirt, and pearl necklace and earring to top it off.

Empty glass in hand, she turned and her gaze trailed across the room. Tony was in the center of the room, life of the party as always, spreading his arms wide as he explained to some investors about some of Stark’s newest projects. His audience of rich pricks stood in rapt attention.

As for the others…Thor was pounding back drinks at the refreshments table while the server licked her eyes up and down his body. Bruce was already drunk and stumbling around and Clint was holding him up. Nick Fury was in the corner, speaking to three men in black suits who were clearly uninterested in champagne or chatting or watching Tony listen to the sound of his own voice.

And then, there was Steve.

Steve was standing with an unzipped glass of champagne in hand in front of two women who were clearly chatting him up. At least, clearly to Natasha. The two women stood close to Steve, asking him questions and touching him in small ways that were just subtle enough to be socially proper but communicated something flirtatious. They were smiling and giggling at Steve’s lackluster jokes.

Steve, of course, was oblivious. As far as his words and body language suggested, these two girls were just very friendly and very interested in his new tux. Natasha had been watching him on and off all evening. A part of her was amused by it. Poor Captain had no idea those girls were flirting with him because he was too sweet to think that such nice girls could have ulterior motives. But there was another part of her, one that curled darkly in her stomach, that she couldn’t quite explain or suppress with alcohol.

Finally, the two girls got tired of Steve’s unresponsiveness to their flirting tactics and they turned their attention to the circle surrounding Tony. Steve was left alone, looking slightly confused. Then, he turned and saw Natasha staring at him.

Natasha’s breath hitched and she averted her gaze. Steve sauntered over to him, a friendly smile on his handsome face.

“Never pegged you as the wallflower type, Miss Romanoff,” he said.

Natasha smirked and rolled her eyes.

“Not much else to do while Tony commands the room,” she said.

“Yeah, the guy’s not a sharer, is he?”

Steve stood by Natasha and crossed his arms as he watched Tony dazzle the crowd with more drivel about tech and numbers. Natasha pretended to watch but flicked her eyes over to Steve. She had to admit, he cleaned up nice. His blonde hair was neatly combed back and he was dressed in an impeccable black tuxedo.

“Think someone should remind Tony this is a charity benefit?” Steve asked. “And therefore, not everything is about him?”

“Sure,” Natasha said. “And then we can explain calculus to a fifth-grader.”

Steve chuckled, a pleasantly deep sound in his throat.

“He’s the only one of his us having any fun,” Natasha continued. “Well, except you at least.” She paused for a second before that feeling curled in her stomach again. “I saw those two girls talking to you.”

“Nancy and Barbara?” Steve said. “Oh yeah, they’re super nice. Nancy’s dad is one of Stark’s investors and Barbara is a sorority friend of hers.” Steve pulled at his sleeves. “They kept asking me about my new suit and where I bought it. They must be fashionistas or something because they kept touching my blazer. Tony got me this for tonight, so I told them I had no idea who the designer was.”

Oh, sweetheart, Natasha thought.

“Did they ask anything else from you?” she asked. “Like for your phone number?”

Steve gave Natasha a funny look.

“Why would they need my number?” he asked. He chuckled. “I mean, I’m not sure what a sorority house would want from me.”

Natasha stared at Steve for a full minute. Steve Rogers was never the…brightest member of the team. Maybe he was always like this, maybe it was that experiment back in the forties that took a few of his brain cells. Regardless, Natasha looked at that man in his puppy-dog blue eyes and was suddenly hit with the urge to kiss him.

“Nat?” he said. “You okay?”

Natasha realized she was staring and shook her head.

“Sorry,” she said. “Champagne.”

“I can take the glass for you,” Steve said. “I don’t like drinking much. Makes me feel dizzy.”

Natasha let Steve take the tall glass from her hand and take it to the refreshments table. The server took the glasses from him. Thor saw Steve’s untouched glass, plucked it from the server’s glass, and slammed the whole thing back.

Natasha watched Steve the whole time. Her face was hot and her lips still buzzed since that image of kissing him crossed her mind. Her eyes lingered on him as he stood with his back to her. Those broad shoulders fitted under the black coat, those muscle round under the sleeves, those pants fitting very well over his nicely shaped ass.

She always knew that Steve Rogers was attractive. Anyone with a working vision could see that. The man was a blonde, All-American Ken doll with the strength of a G.I. Joe. He was all sparkling white smiles and kind blue eyes and sweet as apple pie. To someone used to being cold and hardened like Natasha, he was like a warm sunbeam on a winter day.

And she felt hot just looking at him.

Steve returned to Natasha and as soon as he was standing close to her Natasha’s lips began to buzz again. She kept staring at his mouth while Steve, oblivious, kept talking.

“That poor waitress,” Steve said. “Thor is giving her hell over there. I guess that don’t have champagne in Asgard.” He chuckled. “Maybe he’s trying to see how much he can take until the bell drops.”

The bell drop. Natasha had completely forgotten about that. When the clock struck midnight, couples all over the world would be locking lips to welcome in the new year. The image in her head did nothing.

“Alright, everyone!” Tony called. “One minute until midnight, get your glasses ready!”

Everyone in the room moved to the wall with a giant gold clock on the wall. Even Thor paused his chugging to follow everyone. Bruce, Clint, and even Nick all joined the crowd for the New Year's countdown.

Steve took Natasha's arm and urged her towards the clock.

“C’mon, Nat!” he said. “Midnight time.”

Natasha followed Steve and the two of them stood at the back of the crowd. The bronze hands of the clock ticked towards midnight. The servers popped more bottles of champagne the the room filled with foamy fizz.

Ten seconds. The crowd began to count.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

Natasha flicked her eyes over to Steve. His smile was beaming and he chanted with the rest of the crowd.

“Seven! Six! Five!”

Her face flushed red and she bit down on her lips. She couldn’t. They were teammates. This could fuck up their friendship. This could be a point of no return.

“Four! Three! Two!”

But it was her only chance, and she was so done resiting.

“ONE!”

A burst of sound filled the world. The crowd cheered, more bottles popped, fireworks illuminated the sky outside the windows. And Natasha took Steve’s face in her hand and pulled his mouth to hers.

Steve made a startled, muffled sound as Natasha suddenly pressed her lips to his. His heart ricochet in his ribcage. Natasha’s mouth still tasted like champagne, cold and sparkling like a mouthful of stars. His eyes fluttered shut and he sunk into the kiss.

Time seemed to melt away into golden candle wax. The cheers, the fireworks, the popping bottle, and the sizzling champagne pour turned to a distant buzz. When their lips came apart, Steven and Natasha stared at each other. Steve was hot in the face and breathless. Natasha felt electric and her heart raced in her chest.

“Nat…” Steve said. “I…”

Natasha couldn’t stand it anymore. Fuck it.

She grabbed Steve by his tie and dragged him away from the crowd of attendees. There was a door in the far corner that led to a staff closet. Natasha pulled Steve inside and shut the door before anyone could see them.

“Natasha,” Steve said. “What’re you—”

Natasha shut him up by pressing her lips to his again. Steve immediately melted into her touch and let her push him up against the opposite wall. Her leg slipped through the slit in her dress and pinned between his legs on the door. Some valve had opened inside her and now every intimate thought Natasha ever had about Steve came out through her hands and mouth. Her hands groped him all over, tracing his muscular body under the fabric of his suit.

Natasha kissed Steve from his mouth down his jaw and along his muscular neck. Steve tipped his head back and released a shuddered sigh.

“Fuck…” he sighed. “Nat, please…”

His voice sent a hot flash through Natasha and the blood in her body surged. While she planted pink lipstick stains on his neck and face, she pulled his tie from his neck and began unbuttoning his shirt.

“Nat…” Steve breathed. “What if they hear us?”

Natasha pressed a hand to Steve’s mouth. She leaned close to him and whispered between the spaces between her fingers.

“Then we better keep quiet,” she said.

Steve looked at her with those big blue eyes and didn’t resist as she moved her hand from his mouth to his head, grabbing a handful of that golden hair. Steve winced in pain as Natasha pulled him backward with her. She moved her back against the closet door, thumping against the wood in a way that no doubt anyone on the other side could hear.

Maybe Natasha didn’t want to stay quiet.

Maybe she wanted to hear everyone in Stark Tower fuck their precious captain’s skull in.

“On your knees,” Natasha said, her voice a breathless wisp.

Steve, ever the obedient soldier, dropped down to the floor. Natasha lifted the black velvet of her skirt and bunched it at her waist, while Steve pulled her underwear down her long, muscular legs. He let out a luscious sigh.

“God…” he said, drooling at the sight of her naked pussy. “You’re so incredible…”

Natasha threaded her fingers through Steve’s hair, tightening her grip.

“Don’t tell me,” she said. She moved his face between her thighs. “Show me.”

Steve kissed up Natasha’s inner thigh, making her shiver and her hair stand on end. Natasha moaned and tipped her head back against the door. Her eyes fluttered shut as Steve slipped his tongue between her folds.

“Fuck…” Natasha sighed. She gripped both hands in Steve’s hair. “Right there, baby…just like that…”

Steve smoothed his hands up her legs to grip the side of her thighs. She tasted divine, hot, and dripping wet down his throat. Steve had imagined Natasha fucking him so many times he lost count, but he never thought it would actually happen. They were teammates. There was too much at stake. But at that moment all he wanted to do was lick every drop of her.

Natasha jerked her hips and pulled Steve’s head harder against her. Her thighs spread to make room for his head and she moaned as he swirled his tongue right over her clit. She wasn’t sure how experienced Steve was, but his tongue was long and velvety and knew right where to taste her.

Steve grunted deep his his throat. He gripped his white-knuckled hands against her thighs as she fucked his face. He didn’t want anyone to hear them, to catch them, but the sound of Natasha’s pleasurable moans was music to his ears.

“Steve…” Natasha’s voice pitched. Her nails dug into his head. “Fuck…”

She was getting close. Steve could feel it in the way her thighs tightened around his head, the desperate tone of her voice, the exquisite pain her hands nailed in his head. He growled and began eating her like a starving man. He licked and sucked and didn’t let a single drop of her go to waste. Natasha arched her back against the door and tipped her face up to the ceiling.

“Steve,” she moaned. “Fuck…right there…just like that…keep going…”

Natasha’s body was shiny with sweat, a bead of perspiration dripping down the front of her dress. She was hot and glowing and didn’t care if the party could hear them because all she could think of was cumming on Steve Rogers’s tongue.

When she came, it was like a glass bottle shattered against a wall. She bucked her hips into his mouth, fucking his wide mouth until every hot drop was trickling down Steve’s throat. Her breaths came out in heavy pants and Steve grunted and moaned into her pussy.

Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Natasha’s body simmered to a stop. She was sweaty and warm and she pressed against the door to stay standing. She dropped her head down to Steve, who was looking up at her with the big blue eyes and his lips dripping with her cum.

Steve spoke first.

“Did…” he said. “Did that feel good?”

Natasha’s heart swelled in her chest and wanted to push him against the wall again and smother him in kisses. Instead, she put a hand on his cheek. Steve nuzzled into her touch like a puppy.

“Yeah,” she said. “You’re good at that, Rogers.”

A small smile bloomed on Steve’s face. Just then, someone knocked on the closet door and Natasha jumped at the sound.

“Steve? Nat?” Tony called from the other side of the door. “Everyone’s leaving. You two in there?”

Natasha and Steve looked at each other. Neither of them knew if they wanted the rest of the team to know about this, whatever this meant.

“Yeah,” Natasha said. “Steve’s feeling sick. Must have eaten something.”

“Yeah, I’m really sick,” Steve called.

Natasha gave him a look that said “Hush.”

“I��m helping him, don’t worry,” she said.

That must have satisfied Tony because his footsteps disappeared from the door. Natasha turned her gaze back down to Steve. He was still flustered and cum-wet, but her eyes focused on the bulge at the front of his pants. Outside the door, everyone was making their way towards the elevators to leave. Natasha didn’t have time to deal with Steve here.

So, she’d have to take him somewhere else.

“Meet me at the compound in an hour,” she said. “I’ll return the favor. Okay?”

Steve’s brain was soup. All he could do was look at Natasha in her beautiful face and say, “Yes, ma’am.”

Before Steve could ask any further questions, Natasha straightened her dress and hair, then disappeared out the closet door, leaving him alone with a humiliating boner and a face as red as apples.

Steve mets Natasha exactly where she told him. He arrived at the Avengers Compound an hour later. It was long past midnight but Steve was too restless to be tired. He’d been fighting the aching erection in his pants the whole ride over and the memory of Nastaha touching him did nothing to help.

Natasha was not the kind of woman to waste time. On the front door of the compound was a note written in Natasha’s scrawl: SECOND FLOOR. MASTER BEDROOM.

Steve made his way upstairs. When he reached the bedroom, he rapped his knuckles on the door.

“Natasha?” he said.

“It’s unlocked.”

Steve opened the door and stepped into the bedroom. The room was dimly lit, only a single golden light from the lamp on the end table. But the light was just enough to catch the outline of Nastaha seated on the end of the bed, one leg crossed over the other. Her dress was gone, replaced with black lingerie complete with thigh-highs and garters.

Steve had often been called a “golden retriever” as a joke. But he was moments from collapsing to his hands and knees and barking like a dog.

Natasha's eyes assessed him up and down.

“I can’t fuck you with that suit on,” she said.

Steve composed himself long enough to respond.

“You did back at Stark Tower,” he said.

Natasha smirked and twirled her finger at him.

“Strip for me, soldier,” she said.

Steve’s face burned bright red and he wondered if Natasha could see his blush. He reached his hand up to his throat and slowly pulled his tie off. Then, he stripped his coat off his shoulders and unbuttoned his shirt, letting everything fall to the carpet at his feet.

Natasha watched him as he undressed. Captain American, a pinnacle of strength and power, was completely at her mercy. The power sent a rush through her like she could start glowing in the dark. She licked and bit her bottom lip as Steve stepped out of his shoes, unbuckled his belt, and let his trousers fall to his ankles.

Steve stood before her in the dim, golden light, completely naked down to his boxers. He looked like a statue come to life, the kind of striking beauty that was almost hard to believe in a human.

But Steve Rogers was very human. And therefore, he was entirely breakable.

Natasha rose from the bed and approached her. Steve stood still before her, watching her with an anticipating look in his eyes. He could practically feel her gaze on him, as physical as a wet tongue licking along his body.

Natasha placed her hands on Steve’s shoulders. She smoothed them up to his neck and then pulled him down into a kiss. Steve surrendered to her touch, moaning as she bit hard on his lip and caressed her hands along his body. His cock was aching in his boxers and he whimpered when Natasha brushed her hands against his boxers.

Steve froze as Natasha circled around him, trailing a hand along him, looking at him like she were a dealer appraising a work of art. She stood behind him and placed her chin on his shoulder.

“What’s this?” she whispered in his ear.

Steve gasped as Natasha's hand slithered down the front of his body and curled her fingers down his bulge. His body went stiff as a board and all of a sudden he couldn’t feel anything except Natasha’s hand on his bulge. She teased and played with his cock through the thin grey fabric on his boxers.

“I…urg…ahhh…” Steve couldn’t speak. Natasha pressed her body against his back and he thought he could cum from that alone.

“I did leave you hanging, didn’t I?” Natasha whispered, her sultry voice made the hair on the back of Steve’s neck stand. “I should fix it, shouldn’t I? After all…”

She moved her hand down under the seam of his underwear and Steve whimpered when he felt her fingers wrap around his cock.

“…this is mine, isn’t it?” she whispered in his ear.

Steve gulped, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s yours.”

“What are you willing to do to get it?”

Steve was trembling. He worried his legs would buckle and he would collapse to the floor in a puddle of cum.

“Anything,” he whimpered. “Please…Nat…I need it so bad…I need you so bad…”

His words were enticing. Natasha watched him whimper and tremble as she stroked him slowly, agonizingly slow. She had an idea of what to do with him. Something she wanted to do with him ever since the first time she ever watched him bend over to pick something up. The first time she got a look at that muscular back of his.

But first, she needed him needy and desperate. She began stroking him a little faster, and his whimpers turned to little cries. Without an audience behind a door, Steve’s inhibitions melted away.

“You’ll let me do anything to you?” she said, so softly in his ear. “Anything to get you off?”

“Yes,” Steve moaned. “Yes, anything you want.”

“Would you let me ride you on this bed?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let me handcuff you to a chair and suck you off?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let me just stroke you here and make you lick the mess off the floor?”

“Yes.”

Steve’s hips were twitching into her hand. Any second now, he was going to cum between her fingers. Natasha decided to go for the kill.

“Would you let me fuck you from behind?” she asked.

Steve paused before answering. Either because he wasn’t sure or because he was too close to an orgasm to muster any words.

“Will you?” Natasha asked again, colder this time. She pulled her hand out from Steve’s boxers and he whimpered in agony.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, you can do whatever you want to me, use me, make your plaything, I don’t care just please Natasha….”

Steve was hard to the point of pain. The poor man was even tearing up a little. It was time to put him out of his misery. She brought her lips right to his ear.

“Then bend over for me,” she whispered.

She pressed a hand between Steve’s shoulder blade and bent him over the edge of the bed. Steve’s face hit the mattress and he moaned as Natasha smacked him on the ass.

“Lay still,” she said.

Natasha sauntered to the end table. She brought the supplies with her just in case. Inside the drawer, she pulled out a black leather harness with silver buckles and a thick blue dildo attached.

Steve turned his head in the bed to face Natasha. He watched her step into the harness and adjust the girthy cock at her crotch.

“Do you know what this is?” Natasha asked.

Steve stared at it for a moment and then shook his head.

“This goes inside you from behind,” Natasha explained, running a fingernail down her considerable length. “I’ll lube it up so it can slide in easily.”

“Does it hurt?”

Natasha shook her head.

“No,” she said. “Not if you use it right. The lube will help. Besides, you’ve endured worse.”

To Natasha’s surprise, Steve seemed disappointed. She snickered and walked closer to the bed. She grabbed his chin and made him look up at her.

“Or I can fuck you so hard that you squeal like a pig,” she said.

Steve looked at her with those shimmery blue eyes and nodded. With that affirmation, Natasha grabbed the bottle of lube and began lathering the dildo. Steve watched, drooling at the corner of his mouth while Natasha’s fingers slicked the cock wet.

Natasha walked behind Steve and grabbed the hem of the boxers. She dropped the whole thing to his ankles and then pumped some lube onto her hands. She ran her non-sticky hand down Steve’s back.

“Spread your legs,” she said. “Relax for him.”

Steve did as she said. He spread his legs apart, perking his rear up. Natasha slid a moist finger inside and Steve shuddered.

“Does that hurt?” Natasha asked.

It did, a little. But Steve loved it and he didn’t want Natasha to stop. He never thought pain could feel so good when it came from the right person.

“No,” he said. “Keep going.”

Natasha nodded and slid a second finger inside. She used her free hand to stroke Steve’s back.

“Open up for me, baby,” she said. “I can’t get it in if you don’t open up.”

Steve pressed his red face into the mattress. Once Natasha got him nice and open, she readied her shiny cock at his hole.

“Hold still for me,” she said. She pressed a hand down on his lower back. Her voice softened. “Trust me, Steve. This’ll feel good.”

With that, Natasha shoved herself inside Steve and immediately began swerving her hips. Steve let out a croak of pain and melted onto the bed.

“Nat…” he whimpered. “…fuck…”

The mattress springs sang beneath them as Natasha fucked him into the mattress. Natasha watched Steve whimper and writhe, his muscular back twisting and contorting, pushing his rear harder onto her cock.

“That’s it, Rogers,” Natasha purred. She smoothed her hand up his back before grabbing his hair. “Take all of it for me.”

Steve arched his back and moaned. Natasha started viciously pounding into his ass, thrusting her hips until Steve started crying out. His head filled with exquisite pain as he pulled him back by his hair.

“Natasha please,” he blubbered.

“Shut it,” Natasha hissed. She clasped a hand on his mouth and ducked him harder. “You don’t talk until I make you cum first.”

Steve whimpered against her hand. His tortured cock was burning red and he could feel Natasha fucking an orgasm into him.

“Look at you,” Natasha purred in his ear. “The sluttiest soldier in the U.S. army.”

Those words pushed him over the edge. Steve cried out and Natasha shushed him by shoving his face into the duvet. She fucked him harder and harder, Steve’s hips humping into the bed, until with a cry he finally spilled onto the mattress.

“Fuck...fuck…fuck..” Steve panted.

Natasha slowly pulled her cock out. She looked down at Steve as she stepped out of the harness. The poor boy was sweaty and trembling like a puppy. She traced her fingertips down his back.

“You okay, Steve?” she asked. All her sadistic bravado faded away and her voice cooed over him.

Steve rolled onto his back, grimacing leaving a sticky mess on the mattress when he came. He looked at Natasha, the way the light haloed her red hair, her eyes that made him feel so open and naked. He gently took Natasha by the wrist and pulled her down on top of him. She yelped, then giggled as she nuzzled into his neck.

“That was…” Steve struggled for words. “That was...

He couldn’t articulate how he felt. He felt like a different man. He felt like he wanted to bend over and let Natasha destroy him again and again. But he was too spent to say, so he held Natasha close and covered her in kisses.

Natasha grinned and held Steve’s face in her hands.

“You should probably clean the sheets,” she said. “Someone might come in tomorrow and see your mess.”

Steve smiled and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Yes, ma’am.”

#fanfic #marvel #romanogers #stevenat #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #captain america #black widow #my fics

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zukosdualdao · 8 months ago

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i have this plot bunny that doesn’t fit in the second half of book three in canon, but would if we assumed weeks pass between episodes (i tend to do this anyway for my own peace of mind wrt the timeline) and thematically makes the most sense there. it features zuko, katara, and toph (the others maybe too but those are the characters that have to be there) getting captured by members of the fire nation (it might make more sense of they’re soldiers but i think it’s more interesting if they’re citizens who are ozai loyalists) and take particular interest in harming zuko since he’s, you know. a traitor to the state. i can imagine a vindictiveness there that probably wouldn’t be quite so present with the other members of the gaang, who are enemies but impersonal ones they never expected anything else from. “poor prince zuko,” they snarl. “too bad the royal family doesn’t claim you anymore; you’re on your own. they want you dead, in fact. or captured. i suppose we’ll have to decide what’s more fun.”

anyway. they’re all being restrained by a type of metal toph hasn’t bended before. (toph knows she can crack it, but it takes longer than she’d like on account of ~new.) their capturers don’t know she can bend metal. one of them is threatening to (and coming very close to actually doing so) “burn off the other half of the traitor prince’s face.” this maybe gives toph the final push she needs to figure it out—and she actually bends katara out of her restraints before her own. (this is contingent on toph knowing a certain skill of katara’s and trusting this is one of the rare instances she’ll use it.) it is literally a millisecond just in the nick of time—katara implicitly understands what toph is expecting, and it’s what she was already thinking. she bloodbends the captor before they can burn zuko with cold, precise fury. “he’s not on his own.” zuko’s right eye widens in surprise, the other blinking rapidly—he was flashing back to a different time—why would she do that for him, he knows she has. very complicated feelings about that—but then toph metal bends herself and zuko out of their restraints. they knock the captor out. none of them say a word about any of it as they make their escape, nor the night that follows.

#fic ideas #whump #will i ever write this? who actually knows.#atla #zuko #katara #toph #i’m having some feelings #anyone say aye in the chat if you’d actually read this maybe it will motivate me lmao #abuse //#referenced #torture //#impending #etc.#hurt/comfort #zutara #(im imagining this as a gen story. but also.)

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jackiequick · 1 year ago

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7 times they were better parents to Tony than Howard was | Agent Carter Fanfic

~ In other words, Elizabeth Stark and Jason Underwood being an married couple for 5 minutes straight

Pairing: Jason Underwood & Elizabeth Stark

Character mentioned/included: Tony Stark, Howard Stark, Maria Stark, Edwin Jarvis & Ana Jarvis, Hank Pym, The Avengers & Young Avengers, Peggy Carter, Nick Fury, Alexander Pierce, Justin Hammer and etc

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe -> Agent Carter, Iron Man 1-3, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Avengers Age Of Ultron

Summary: Sometimes the best things in life happen when you least expect, such as becoming loving parental figures to a billionaire genius with a cheeky grin.

Note: Jason’s nickname is JJ and Elizabeth’s nickname is Liz

Ship Name: JALIZZY

Slight Warning: A bit of angst but mostly fluff

Click here for the latest fic featuring this family

Click here to see where our leading man fits in the Marvel Universe timeline

—————

Both were asleep in bed, when little 7 year old Tony walked into the bedroom and climbing into their bed.

Jason woke up first rubbing his eyes and sighed, "Bubba what you doing? We built you a new big boy bed last week.."

"Bad dream.." Said little Tony balling up his fist and getting under the covers, "..and Daddy is out."

"Oh right Momma visiting Aunt Peg for the week.."

"I'm sorry..c-can I stay?"

That moment Elizabeth woke up ruffling her nephew's bed head and yawned, "Sure, Bambino. But you wanna talk about the bad dream first?"

Tony looked down holding his teddy bear and mumbled, "I was in a dark and scary cave with a dragon..and I could not fight him, I was running but there no way to go.."

"Aww sweetie, look it's okay not every dream is gonna be a good one but you're okay. Everything is okay, you hear me?"

" I know..it's okay, b-but I was lost and scared..I did not save the princess..I fail.."

"Oh no sweetie, you didn't fail anyone. It was just a bad dream, there are no dragons here to hurt you."

"But the princess?"

"Maybe you will save her in the next dream."

Jason added with a tired smile, "Or maybe the princess already saved herself? Like auntie Lizzie or auntie Peg. And she's now waiting for you in the dream."

"Really?" Tony asked with a small smile.

"Yeah, sometimes it's the little prince that needs to go on journey to find the princess waiting for him in the end."

"Okay, I am ready to sleep now..and meet the princess."

"Out of curiosity, who was the princess?"

"Her name was Molly."

"Ohh nice name."

Elizabeth cut in with a chuckle, "Yeah very nice! Now we can please go to sleep and save the kingdom tonight in this dream?"

The boys nodded with a smile, cuddling up in bed with the lady of the house.

------

Elizabeth blowing raspberries on Tony's tummy as his giggles filled up the house with laughter. Jason was building up rocking chair in the living room and walked into the kitchen.

Jarvis was making lunch for them.

"Hey babe." He said with a smile, kissing her forehead then gave his nephew one on the cheek.

"Hi dear." She replied with a smile bouncing their nephew in her lap who giggled brightly.

It was a running gag but a sweet one calling each other pet names since the day they met. It went beyond, just them calling each other nicknames Jason called Jarvis's wife, Ana, honey and doll all the time as a term of endearment.

"JJ!" Tony yelled in glee with a toothy grin, as both adults looked their eyes at his silliness.

Something that would carry on once Tony is older is that silly toothy grin of his, no matter what the situation is. Especially his giggles.

Jarvis set the table for them, as Jason rushed over to help him and cutting Elizabeth's food into smaller sizes. Ana joined them soon enough watching all of this in curiosity. However, it confused the British man, once they all sat down to eat.

"Why does Jason need to cut your food, Miss Stark?" Jarvis asked them as he ate.

"Just watch, dear." Ana added, curious knowing she will get an answer.

With Tony's booster seat resting between them. Ana grabs a glass of wine and sits next to her husband. Looking at the kid who are begin to eat but what caught Jarvis's eye was Tony’s other hand gripping Elizabeth’s left hand in a tight grip.

"Aww how adorable." Ana said with a smile eating her chicken.

"It is indeed but what exactly is happening? I might need an explanation." Jarvis questioned with a smile.

"Tony had this new habit where he only can eat if he holds Elizabeth or Maria’s hand. It started a few days ago." Jason explained chuckling as he ate.

"I don't mind it. It keeps him relaxed and allows me to make sure he's doing alright while eating." Elizabeth replied eating with her other hand.

"What happens if you remove your hand?" Ana asked, in love with the way Tony's happily eating.

Elizabeth lets go of Tony's hand and all of them looking at the youngest Stark who started fusing while chewing a piece of meat, one hand starts waving asking for his auntie’s hand.

Elizabeth just let Tony wrap his fingers with her own in the meantime as Ana chuckled and Jarvis snorted with a smile.

"Howard tried it yesterday, removing Tony's hand away from Maria and he just cried. Not pretty." Jason added chuckling.

"It was hilarious!" Elizabeth told them as she snickered, "My brother promised to let him sleep with their room last night, if he stopped. Howard was third wheeling."

------

“Will you please go to sleep now? You're a growing boy, come on please do it Uncle JJ.” Jason sighed and rubbed his own face with his palm.

“No way.” Tony runs “I wan Liz…”

“I give up.” Jason buried his face in the kid’s bed

Jason finally gets up and walks to the living room where his best girl is reading something from her notebook. Watching Tony just dive to her lap startling the woman.

“What the-?” Elizabeth jumped out of reflex “I-shouldn’t you be in bed and counting sheep?”

“I’m not sleepy.” Tony shakes his head.

“Well, I am.” Jason sighed and sat next to Elizabeth looking into her eyes hoping she understood the silent help signal, "No more kids, one is enough.."

That was when Hank Pym called as Elizabeth put him on the speaker and started talking with him as she tried to put her kid to sleep.

"Lizzie is this a bad time?" Hank asked while on the phone, hearing Tony mumbling in the background and Jason's voice muttering something.

"No, Hankie it's fine. Someone's allergic to sleep just like his father, I'll pay you 500 bucks if you can get him to sleep." Elizabeth replied jokingly.

"I'll see what I can do. Do you remember the equation use for invention you and Howard were making?"

"Actually, yeah I do. The one for that android prototype? Yeah I do."

"Good because I thinking we can use for this new formula I was creating."

Both scientists go to work, talking with the equipment and possible new investments they would make that month to present to the others. Laughing and gushing about their week as well.

Jason was napping when he was accidentally smack on the shoulder due to Elizabeth's excitement how on they can improve the formula for the shrink ray.

"Ow!" He shouted softly, being woken up.

"Oh, sorry JJ. I was just, you know." She replied trying to explain with a chuckle.

"I know let me take this little guy off your hands."

"Alright."

Both expected to find Tony still awake on his auntie's lap but he nodding off as they spoke. They chuckled quietly thanking Hank's believing their science talk tired him out or something.

He picked him up as Tony's head rested on his shoulder, his eyes were trying to stay open as he mumbled, "I'm not tired...no sleepy.."

"Oh yes you are, Bubba. Very sleepy." Jason said with a soft chuckle with sighed, "Say night night."

Elizabeth stood up cupping his little face mumbling sweet nothing into his ears as Tony hummed a soft, "..night night."

"Night, my little star." She replied with a soft smile, deciding to help tuck him in.

They tucked in their little boy, turning on the recording on Maria Stark's gentle singing voice as background noise for Tony.

Moments like that, they both wished Howard and Maria were not busy sometimes but they're more than happy to raise the little guy instead.

----

As much as he is their little boy, he is Howard's son and that being said he was a little rebellious at time. Especially in his early teens and his years as an adult..

"Anthony Edward Stark, where the hell you think your going?" Elizabeth asked with her arms crossed and tapped her foot with a glare.

"Out!" Repiled Tony, who was 12 years old at this point with a classic smirk.

"It's Monday afternoon on a school night!"

"So?"

"So you're not heading out to whatever your heading off to! I don't care what it is, Friday it's another thing, I allow it. But Monday, hell no!"

"You're not dad, auntie Liz!"

"And thank god I ain't. Be lucky it ain't Peggy either, why do you want to head out anyway? To act cool with your friends?"

Tony sighed in defeat dramatically dropping the smirk and crossed his arms, "Well no shit. All my friends are doing it."

Jason stepped in after returning home from an getting supplies hearing his nephew, "Please tell you didn't just curse in front of your aunt."

"I just said 'shit'! Relax.." Tony replied with a sigh thinking of something knowing who's the softer parent, "And aunt Liz won't let me go out."

"First off no cursing at your aunt. And second, out where?"

"An party..all my friends will be there!"

"Is it on Friday?"

"Yup! It's on Friday, it's a small party."

Elizabeth scoffed, "No! It's tonight, an silly little stupid party with his friends doing god knows what. God knows if the parents will be there!"

"She's lying! She doesn't want me to have fun this week and stay stuck in this house, only invite to Rhodey or something." Tony shouted.

"Enough!" Jason yelled raising his voice, "I know she ain't lying and that you're the one who is actually lying. You know the rules Tony, no parties or anything on school night like Monday. And something tells me those kids parents don't know they're going to that party."

"B-but that's not fair! I should be allow to go." Tony yelled.

"No you shouldn't and it is fair, she’s saving you for tomorrow. She knows that something off is going on if it's on a Monday, simple as that. Doesn't that sound a little weird to you?"

"...yeah..it does."

"We will talk about this later."

A few more words were said before Tony left to the living room. Liz was pissed off and so was Jason.

He sighed and told her, "You were doing the right thing."

"I know.." She sighed, "I know. I'm just trying to protect him. Something tells me this won't be the last argument."

"Cause it won't. But we just try to lead him down the right path.."

"You got that right. Protecting him and all that.."

----

Road trips with the three of them tend to be something else. Tony always making himself known with questions, annoying them on purpose and snickering afterwards.

"Where we going?" Tony asked in the backseat, playing with his jacket zipper.

"To meet Peggy and your parents in San Diego." Elizabeth replied like it was obvious with a smile.

"And why are you driving?"

"Because your uncle JJ has a bad history with driving."

Jason perked up, "I'm right here, you know?!

Tony snorted, "Okay what time we get there?"

"Midnight." Elizabeth said with sigh.

"What happens at midnight?"

"You're bedtime."

"Can I drive?"

Both shouted at the same time, "No!"

That resulted in Tony laughing at their response as both parents chuckled at his ridiculous way to make times like that a joke or two.

---

Sometimes Elizabeth tends to become a mama bear, as if she isn't already. Like when Tony started dating, Howard rolled his eyes chuckling at his sister and Maria gushed hoping her boy enjoys the dating scene.

Elizabeth on the other hand, she was so excited and sat beside Jason one afternoon while he was reading. He was reading a classic children's' book from the shelfs, 'The Giving Tree' when Elizabeth came with a grin.

"Yes my darling?" He asked looking up from the book with a laugh.

"Tony got a date!" She repiled with a smile.

"With who? I mean I'm not surprise our kid has been a cheeky little guy since the age of 3."

"You know that day Howard took Tony down to that event in Chicago? Well there was this nice girl there with her mother, Tony sneaked off to see her and now they met again due to her mother bringing her here for an clothing event. And according to Ana, he has a date."

"That's my boy. If he's not a gentleman, I'll ground him for life. Where to?"

"Ana said that caravel downtown this weekend. She was eavesdropping and I love her for it."

"Not bad for a first actually date with a girl he seems to like."

Elizabeth sigh assuming something, Jason knew that look on her face and ask her what's going on.

"I don't want to sound cheesy but he's growing up so fast, JJ! I mean where did the time go? It felt like I was helping him add 2 + 2 yesterday! Now a date? Damn..he's my baby." Elizabeth admitted with a sigh.

Jason opened his arms pulling her into an tight embrace as she was nuzzling comfortably against his neck. She pouted, it was a rare moment but she did. He chuckled rubbing her shoulder.

"Aw, Lizzie, darling. He's growing up, I don't like it. Hell I would rather stop time and let him stay the way he is now. But we can't. Before we know it, he's buying his own house or deciding to buy this one off his father." Jason joked with a smile.

Elizabeth chuckled, "He might as well do that. I'm not ready for him to keep growing up, what if he doesn't want hugs from his auntie anymore? What if he grows up hating the idea of living with us? I mean it's a packed a house, i don’t blame him."

"Hahaha no, honey he won't. I think he rather have a packed house than a quieter one. And he will always need his auntie, he's your baby. Tony knows it, hell he might make you an godmother one day."

"Oh god no, don't think that far hahaha! I want him live in the moment now, before he's old and gray. I'm still gonna baby him no matter how old he is! You know that right?"

"Oh I know. And he's gonna be annoyed but love you for it. No matter what you do, you will be there to protect him and stand up for him."

"You too!"

"Oh hell yeah I will!"

---

And they are right about that. Yeah sure, Lizzie was gone under the ice for years due to a freak accident thinking she was goner. Having Jason and Tony feeling down in the dumps for some time.

But when that girl returned, her mama bird side came with her. And the man who was her right hand was more than happy about that.

"He's insane!" Liz yelled with a sigh, pointing at her nephew, "You're insane."

"Hello?! Have you met me?" Tony replied with a chuckle, "I think Pepper would love a big bunny for an anniversary slash Christmas present."

"Okay I dealt the whole 'I'm Iron Man, I can do whatever the hell I want' thing. But your Tony Stark! My Tony Stark, use that head of yours is a big bunny a good idea?"

"JJ gets you big jewelry and spoils you! I blame him for my actions, the bunny stays."

"Oh jeez. Did you at least get dinner ready?"

"Yeah it's pizza tonight. Why are you acting so uptight lately?"

Elizabeth sighed, "I've been asleep for years in ice and I come back to find you as Iron Man. A superhero. I know it's been an year now, but a part of me is still scared your gonna blow it!"

Tony chuckled pulling his auntie into a hug, "Oh Liz, it's me we're talking about. Hell, JJ is still terrified for my life. And honestly, I've already it blew it last year, in New York. I am stressed but I will be fine.."

"I know about your late night snacking and sleepless night, Tony. I'm worried about you. We all are."

"I know you are..but if anything happens, I will tell you. I promise."

~~~

Last forward to Christmas time, once the house blew up and JARVIS announces Tony's anxiety problems to everyone after arriving at the snowy side of the U.S. before shutting off.

Soon enough, they're dragging themselves across the snow to find a safe house. Rei's suit is being dragged across the snow, as he decide to start helping his godfather.

Liz snaps, "Anything you want to tell me?!"

"Okay in my defense I was gonna tell you soon." Tony winced.

"When?!"

"I was gonna make you an omelette and tell you about it!"

"Oh my god!"

Jason sighed dragging the Iron Man suit with them across with snow as the night fall onto of them.

"You two knew about this?! This whole time and didn't think of telling me?!" Jason yelled.

"I thought you knew about this! Or that he told you!" Liz yelled back.

"Great, now Ma and Pops are fighting." Rei added sarcastically, "Good job, Dad!"

Tony turned look at his son, “I’m sorry, how is this my fault?”

“Isn’t everything?”

“This is unbelievable.”

----

Other times, Jason and Elizabeth would be protecting themselves or their kids presence even when the guy isn't nearby.

Such as 2014, when they were called by SHIELD when it came to Alexander Pierce wanting their signature onto the new helicarriers.

Jason was tired as he asked, "Okay Pierce, what the hell is this?"

Elizabeth was standing next to him and pressed, "Mr. Secertary, what he meant is there a reason you've asked us to come here?"

"Signature, Mr. Underwood and Miss Stark." Said Pierce holding out pens, "As well, I was hoping you ask your nephew to stop by my niece's birthday party as a favor for Nick."

"He's our nephew, not a party entertainer." Elizabeth said with a raise eyebrow.

"Unless it's for his own children, and at the moment he's not dealing with your favors." Jason added, "What's the favor you're doing for Nick?"

"That's classified information, sir." Pierce replied.

"Of course it is..you know, it was a pretty long day and I don't want to be here. Matter a fact, none of us want to be to here! So good night Alexander." Elizabeth said standing up from her chair.

Jason stood up following her, opening the door for the girl as he gave Pierce an odd look before walking out. However that didn’t stop Elizabeth Stark to get information later on that day, returning to Alexander Pierce’s office after cooling down to get any information needed.

——

Sometimes due to Jason and Elizabeth being so close to Tony, along with their godchildren they get mistaken for the actual parents. Hell, even for being a couple more than once.

Such as in the early to late 2010s, Justin Hammer once asked, “Are theses your parents, Stark? I thought they were dead..”

Tony would give an sarcastic smile and reply, “Aw Hammer, you’re jealous? Too bad not everyone was given 3 sets of parents.”

“Three?”

“Oh yeah, didn’t you hear? Or were you too busy washing yourself in that horrible 80s cologne?”

Justin scoffed, “Damn. But seriously, are they giving out set of parents for free or what?”

“No. They’re mine, you can’t have them.” Tony added with a smirk.

~~~

Or when Fury called Tony and The Avengers out a few times, he will tend to bring JJ and Liz names into conversation, using the term parents. Such as in 2015, when they are all in Clint’s Barn. Also known as The Safe House.

Everyone was in the kitchen, including the teens and kids. Some were at the table such as Natasha, Bruce, Rick, Ava, Rei and Rochelle. Others were surrounding the area near the sink and fridge across from the kitchen island, such as Tony, Clint and Steve with Liane and Luna.

Clint’s wife Laura was listening in as the younger kids were wondering around.

Elizabeth was drying dishes as Jason washed them, meanwhile Fury was finishing placing some orange slices on a plate.

Nat spoke up, “You know boss, when I was hoping I saw ya, you would have more than that.”

Fury replied, “I do. I have you. Back in the day, I had eyes everything, ears everywhere else. You kids have all the things you can dream to use, Stark’s parents didn’t have much to work with beforehand but they made do. Now here we are, back on earth with nothing but our wit and our willingness to do good.”

Jason added, “Just like old times, huh? Rehashing a plan during dinner, then collaborating in the morning to figure out what can be done..”

“Ain’t that the truth. Nothing but our strength to save the world and make a difference for others.” Elizabeth commented with a grin.

Fury gave them a half smile and continued his speech, “Ultron says The Avengers are the only thing between him and his mission. And weather or not he admits it, his mission is global destruction. All this lay in the grave. So stand, out with the platinum bastard.”

Natasha winked at Rick and Rochelle before saying with a smirk, “Steve doesn’t like that kinda talk.”

Steve gave her a humorous mock glare, “You know what, Romanoff?”

The teens and young adults in the room snorted and chuckled. The group kept talking, figuring out what will they all do next, with the young members of the team chiming into the conversations.

Even Jason mentioned, “You can try Pentagon's firewall, are they open this time?”

“That could work, they are still roughly open this time and hour.” Elizabeth comments.

“Should i know why you know that?”

“I had to message the Pentagon years ago to reach an barrier of systemic risks, for SHIELD’s locating tactics. And Tony did something he wasn’t supposed to..”

“Oh god, what was it this time?”

Fury ate his orange slice answering, “You’re boy cracked into SHIELD systemic burns, but beforehand he cracked their firewall.”

“That’s something, I do think I remember he did!” He replied chuckling, “We got mysterious calls afterwards for weeks.”

Tony chimed in with a grin sounding proud and said, “I cracked the Pentagon’s firewall in high school on a dare and got a sweet deal afterwards.”

Elizabeth grinned brightly, “That’s my boy! Definitely a win in my books.”

“And me? I cracked into SHIELD firewall too multiple times.” Rei added with a sly smile, as you could hear his godfather holding back his laughter in the background.

“I love you too, kiddo!” She replied to her sarcastic godson, “Both of you are the reasons for the facility's cyber-security sub-bar.”

——

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