#and be like as someone who officially wrote her for marvel I promise you she is not The Holder Of The Braincell
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My least favorite thing is when someone who enjoys a piece of media fondly says something about how every character in a group is stupid/a bad person/etc and then either they or someone else HAS to step in and clarify "Except the girl!"
Like no fuck you let women have negative traits
Especially when you're obviously endeared by said traits
#yes sometimes the issue is in the original media#but this post is brought to you by that one post about the various spiderfolks going around where SM herself had to step in#and be like as someone who officially wrote her for marvel I promise you she is not The Holder Of The Braincell#and also by the time someone said everyone in arcane was a bad person except MEL#like the venture capitalist openly interfering with politics is really who you wanna say is the unproblematic one#for the record it's not always The Girl it's whoever is percieved by the person in question as winning the oppression olympics#when people talk about the Batfam it can be Steph Duke or Cass depending on the person#like I get the urge to not talk shit about an oppressed minority but y'all gotta realize that at some point it's more offensive#to deny their right to be a human being with flaws
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Therenlover’s Official Fanfic Glossary!
Hey hey hey! This is the place where you can find all my up-to-date fanfics linked nicely, read about what projects I have upcoming, and learn what requests I’m taking at the moment! Cheers!
This post is massive so, for the sake of your dash, everything is under the cut
A NOTE ABOUT REQUESTS!
I will do my best to fulfill any requests I get while my ask box/requests are open! That being said, I cannot promise every request will get done, and that if they do, they’ll be done in a timely manner. I’m currently working on a long-form project that needs a lot of time and energy to come out consistently, so unless I’m doing a writing event most of my writing juice will be focused on that. That being said, if you want something ask! The worst I can possibly do is direct you towards someone else who might be able to write what you want if I cant.
If I choose not to do your request based on personal preference (it makes me uncomfy/I don’t write for the character at that time/I don’t feel I can write what you want/etc.) I will do my best to contact you and let you know! That being said, if you think your ask got buried/forgotten, feel free to message me again and let me know, but please tell me when you message me if I should be looking for a prior request.
Characters/Fandoms I will write for currently
💙 = I’m Currently Super Inspired To Write For This Character
Marvel/X-Men
Bucky Barnes
Loki
Peter Maximoff ����
Pietro Maximoff
Helmut Zemo 💙
Hank McCoy
Ralph Bohner 💙
Vision
American Horror Story
Tate Langdon
Kit Walker 💙
Kyle Spencer (Pre- and Post- Death)
Jimmy Darling 💙
James Patrick March 💙
Kai Anderson
Fallout 4
Nick Valentine
Hancock
Star Wars
Poe Dameron
Armitage Hux 💙
Kylo Ren/Ben Solo
Finn
Han Solo
Assorted/Random
Diarmuid Ua Duibhne - FGO
Cu Chulainn/Cu Alter - FGO
Warren Lipka - American Animals 💙
Enjolras - Les Miserables
Grantaire - Les Miserables
Gabriel - Supernatural
Imagines - REQUESTS CLOSED
Songs From Musicals Y/N Would Sing To The Evans
Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff
Rating: T
How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt
Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff
Rating: T
Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?
Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, Helmut Zemo
Rating: T
Headcanons - REQUESTS CLOSED
Modern! AU Armitage Hux Boyfriend Headcanons
Zemo With A Well Dress S/O Headcanons
Zemo Getting Jealous Headcanons
Oneshots - REQUESTS CLOSED
Marvel/X-Men
Helmut Zemo
One Last Night In Madripoor
Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 4200~
Still Some Catching Up To Do
Synopsis: As a member of the criminal underworld, people walk out of your life all the time. Some are killed, others kill themselves, most get caught and only a couple get out of the life unscathed, disappearing into the world never to be seen again. Very few walk back in. So when your supposedly incarcerated ex-lover, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon waltzed through your door and made you murder your boss, needless to say, you were surprised and more than a little bit pissed.
Rating: 16+
Word Count: 6800~
Nine Years Starved
Synopsis: It had been a little over nine years since Helmut Zemo lost his family, his country, and his sanity. Nine years since his last kiss. Nine years since he felt like a human man. Finally, he was ready to start over again, but first, he had to pay his penance back where it all began; Novi Grad. That’s when, by the grace of the fates, he met you.
Rating: G
Word Count: 7000~
Daddy Dearest
Synopsis: Not everyone gets lucky enough to go from being a broke college student in New York to being the sugar baby to literal royalty, but not everyone is you. Most people would be worried about messing things up or losing him to someone else, but you knew he would never find another baby just like you. Besides, you knew exactly what to do to keep him wrapped around your little finger. He may have been the daddy, but you pulled the reins.
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 8000~
In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four
Synopsis: As a wanted man, Helmut Zemo spends most of his time jumping from place to place in the hopes of avoiding a trip back to prison. Unfortunately, that means he can’t always be home in your arms. When he is, though, in the rare moments of calm, you’re reminded of just how worth it it’s been to wait, even if that wait was only shortened by the arrival of your enemies.
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 35,700~
Two Bodies In The Rain
Synopsis: It was raining the day you finally had to admit your feelings to Helmut. You hated to tell him the way you did, under the grey skies as your blood pooled below you, but at least you knew, in the end, he had seen the real you, even just once. That was enough.
Rating: T
Word Count: 5600~
Rest
Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.
Rating: T
Word Count: 3200~
American Horror Story
Jimmy Darling
Red Nights In Jupiter
Synopsis: At the end of another long day, you fall into bed with Jimmy Darling. The men you served throughout the day don’t matter then, nor do the coins in the mason jar by the door, or the women scheduled to attend Jimmy’s next Tupperware party. No, in that quiet darkness it’s just you and the man you love, bone-tired and happy to be home. Who could ask for more?
Rating: 16+
Word Count: 3000~
James Patrick March
Heartsick
Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again.
Rating: 16+
Word Count: 3700~
In Sickness And In Health
Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 5500~
Fallout 4
Currently Empty
Star Wars
Currently Empty
Assorted/Random
Currently Empty
Long Form Works/Series
Young Artist!Zemo AU
Chapter One: The Boy With The Easel
Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.
Rating: T
Word Count: 7000~
Till Forever Falls Apart (A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)
Chapter One: Welcome Home
Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.
Rating: T
Word Count: 2400~
Chapter Two: The Doctor Is In
Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?
Rating: T
Word Count: 2800~
Chapter Three: It’s Always Been You
Synopsis: After a month of adapting to his new universe, Peter Maximoff can confidently say that he likes his new life more than his old one. Sure, he misses home sometimes, but he’s been far too busy flirting with his new roommate to spend time crying over the things he’s lost. Everything is smooth sailing until a strange journal in his roommate’s study leaves him with more questions than he knows what to do with. Now he’s on a mission to discover who he’s really living with before she has the chance to turn against him.
Rating: T
Word Count: 8600~
Chapter Four: Before You Go
Synopsis: Peter, after days of contemplation, has realized that part of him loves Y/N no matter what she is or what she’s been through. Unfortunately, he can’t find her anywhere. When she finally returns home with the intention of leaving again, Peter realizes it’s his last chance to tell her how he really feels. Will he succeed, or will he fail to be fast enough once again?
Rating: T
Word Count: 4000~
Chapter Four And A Half: Gimme Swayze
Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.
Rating: T
Word Count; 2600~
Cakes For The Evans: A Blogging And Baking Adventure!
Kai Anderson’s Disaster Cake
Hey you! If you’ve made it this far down the list, thanks for supporting me as an author! I’ll be linking my AO3 here. I post everything there shortly before I post it here, and there are some older fics there you might enjoy along the way! It’s also easier to drop comments over there and I keep them open for non-members, so give me a shout if you liked what I wrote!
I love you all, you make me so happy, and without you support I would never be motivated to write! Cheers!
#marvel#fanfiction#x reader#bucky barnes x reader#loki x reader#peter maximoff x reader#pietro maximoff x reader#quicksilver x reader#ralph bohner x reader#helmut zemo x reader#baron zemo x reader#zemo x reader#hank mccoy x reader#vision x reader#tate langdon x reader#kit walker x reader#kyle spencer x reader#jimmy darling x reader#james march x reader#james patrick march x reader#kai anderson x reader#nick valentine x reader#hancock x reader#poe dameron x reader#armitage hux x reader#general hux x reader#kylo ren x reader#ben solo x reader#han solo x reader#finn x reader
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Luckless Romance
Summary: When Whitney Taylor was lucky enough to get the job of a lifetime doing a photoshoot for Marvel Studios, she didn’t expect to come away from the experience with a new friend. Especially not a friend that she quickly fell head over heels for.
Convinced that those feelings were completely one sided, she kept them to herself - until one night changed everything.
Chris Evans x OFC
18+
Prequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy + -More Hearts Than Mine-
Note: While this is set before the other two parts of this story, I would definitely recommend reading the other two first if you haven’t already. I know that might seem odd, but I do think it flows better that way. This is more of an aside than an introduction, I think, but it could just be that I wrote them in this order so that’s how it makes sense to me.
Anyway! Thank you to everyone who has been eagerly awaiting this part of their story. The support has been so motivating and I’m already working on more little snippets of their lives together that should hopefully be posted soon.
Please let me know what you think!
_____
August 2015
Growing up in Los Angeles - especially with a rather well known uncle - I was very aware that celebrities were really just normal people who usually weren't deserving of the obsessive adoration they received from the general public.
That being said, it still felt very surreal when I found myself sitting around a table with some of Hollywood's biggest stars as we celebrated the end of a long and tiring photo shoot in which I was the photographer. Three weeks earlier, I had been slaving away at a department store portrait studio taking boring, uninspired family photos, so the contrast between that and where I was now - sharing drinks with the cast of Marvel's next big movie after wrapping my first real photography gig - would be enough to make anyone feel a tad awestruck.
It didn't help that it had all come together so quickly that I'd hardly had time to wrap my head around it. The photographer that they originally had lined up to do the shoot had some kind of family emergency and had to drop out at the last minute. They were going to postpone the shoot indefinitely, but my family connections with Iron Man provided another solution. My uncle Rob wasted no time in giving Marvel my name and portfolio and less than twenty-four hours later I was signing a contract for the biggest career opportunity I'd ever had.
I was endlessly grateful - the pay was far better than I was getting at the department store and there was plenty of potential for more Marvel related photo shoots in the future - but the pressure was nerve wracking. I'd hardly slept at all in the few days leading up to it and by the time we wrapped, I was exhausted. As the adrenaline faded and the relief that I survived kicked in, I was very much looking forward to crawling into my bed with a nice glass of wine to get a good night's sleep before I started the editing process the next day.
But there was no time for rest with this crowd and it was quickly decided that we were all going out for some kind of unofficial wrap party. The official one had been two weeks before when they'd finished filming in Georgia, but now that they were reunited in L.A., it seemed another celebration was necessary. I'd protested at first and tried to sneak off before they could realize I was gone, but my uncle thwarted my plan and, after a few minutes of heavy guilting about how long it had been since I'd spent any time with him, I reluctantly agreed.
Which was how I found myself sitting at a table in a private room of a popular bar with my uncle - Robert Downey Jr - my Aunt Susan, Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, Scarlett Johannsen and Paul Rudd. There were other cast members and their friends dotted around the room, some sitting by the bar while others played pool, and I couldn't help but take a moment to be grateful that I'd been given a chance to join this team of incredibly talented people in some small way.
I was also taking a moment to be grateful that my placement in the booth we were sitting in gave me the opportunity to be sandwiched between the wall and Chris Evans - who smelt so good that it should probably be illegal.
There'd been a spark between us all day. He was attractive - I'd known that going in, it was a pretty beautiful cast - but seeing him in person with all his Captain America muscles was really quite a sight.
But it was more than just that.
There was something about the way he looked at me, flashing me those blush inducing smirks along side his teasing comments and the way he was so genuinely kind and polite to me throughout the whole day. I was sure that my uncle had warned them that this was my first high profile shoot, but Chris had been incredibly supportive and he never came across as condescending if he offered me any suggestions. He checked in with me throughout the day to make sure that I wasn't getting too overwhelmed and it was very much appreciated despite the fact that his effortless flirting often left me more distracted than productive.
Sitting next to him now, feeling his thigh pressed against mine due to the tight squeeze needed to fit our whole group around the table, had me very distracted again until my uncle dragged me back into the conversation.
"So, Whitney, how's Trent?"
His question, or more likely the displeasure in his voice when he asked it, captured the attention of the table and all eyes were on me as I shrugged.
"He's great as far as I know, but I haven't talked to him in a while," I admitted. "We broke up a couple of months ago."
"Thank god for that," Robert grinned. "It's about time!"
"Don't be insensitive," Susan scolded him, which probably would have been deserved if I didn't know how accurate of a statement it was. "Are you okay? What happened?"
"I think she means 'what horrible thing did he do that finally made you come to your senses'?"
Susan swatted at her husband, but I cringed at the memory.
"It was really bad. I don't even want to tell you."
His jaw tightened at that remark as his glee shifted to something more like concern.
"What did he do? Do I need to assemble my team of Avengers and kick his ass?"
I giggled at the thought of that happening as all the men around the table voiced their willingness to help.
"Thank you, but no, I'd rather you didn't," I assured them. "It wasn't anything horrific, it's just embarrassing that I ever went out with someone as sleezy as he was."
Chris glanced down at me with a smirk on his face.
"Well, in that case, you gotta tell us now..."
The rest of the group nodded in agreement and I, rather foolishly, looked at my uncle for support, but all I received was a shrug and a raise of his eyebrow as if to say 'go on'. So, against my better judgment and with a sigh of shame and regret, I explained.
"He took me out for drinks on my birthday and invited some woman that he met on Tinder to join us," I informed them. "Apparently, without my knowledge, he'd advertised that we were looking for someone to join us for a threesome that night which was his birthday gift to me."
There was a collective widening of eyes and, after approximately two seconds of stunned silence, a howl of laughter came from my uncle. The rest of the group, however, seemed unsure what to say until Paul spoke up.
"Well, was that was you asked for?"
"No!" I shrieked in protest. "I mean, to each their own, but no! Absolutely not!"
My uncle looked like he was about to cry from laughter as the rest of the group joined in with him. All except for Chris, who was biting back a smile with what seemed to be a considerable amount of effort.
"Guys, c'mon, don't laugh at that!" He scolded them. "That's horrible!"
"Oh, don't feel too bad for her," Robert warned him, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "The guy took her to Hooters on their first date and she still agreed to see him again."
It was true and looking back, I had no way to justify such a poor choice. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took a long sip from the gin and tonic in front of me.
"Shut up," I huffed. "He said he just liked the wings there..."
"That's classic," Sebastian smirked. "That's what they all say!"
"Why did you even agree to go out with a man named Trent?" Anthony chimed in. "There's no way someone named Trent isn't going to be a douche bag."
Chris laughed then, throwing his head back as his hand came up to rest on his chest.
"That's true!" He howled and, as embarrassed as I was by the situation, I couldn't help but feel a different kind of flush at the sound of his heartfelt laugh.
"Okay, okay, that's enough," Susan chimed in despite the smile on her face as well. "It sounds like poor Whitney has learned her lesson so there's no need to make her feel any worse."
Robert shrugged and gave me a pointed look.
"As long as she promises to make better choices."
I appreciated that he had my best interest at heart, but I rolled my eyes anyway in a show of annoyance.
"Don't worry," I assured him. "I'm swearing off men for a while so there will be no choices made at all, good or bad, for the foreseeable future."
Susan frowned at that information, clearly displeased by my resignation to being alone, but luckily, a distraction arrived at our table and forced a change of subject - a distraction in the form of Jeremy Renner with a very full tray of shots.
Everyone cheered at the sight of him, but my uncle nudged me under the table to draw my attention back towards him.
"This is why I call him the Lord of the Underworld," he warned me. "Be careful..."
"Don't listen to him!" Jeremy insisted, handing out two shots to everyone except my aunt and uncle who weren't drinking. "I just know how to encourage everyone to have a good time."
"Does this group need any encouragement?"
Scarlett's question earned a laugh from the crowd, but Jeremy nodded his head.
"Apparently so or you wouldn't all be sitting in a corner, nursing your first drinks!" He pointed out. "So, drink up!"
He lifted a shot glass in the air and we all copied the action, giving a 'cheers' before tossing back the sharp tequila he'd chosen. The second shot went down almost immediately after and as I felt it burning down my throat, I knew we were in for quite a night.
-
"So, how are we going to do this?" Chris asked as we stood around a ping pong table with Anthony and Scarlett a bit later in the evening. "Girls against boys?"
"No way, man," Anthony shook his head, putting his arm around Scarlett's shoulders. "I want this one on my team."
"Ouch," Chris smirked. "But whatever, I was just trying to make it fair. If you want to play against the two best players then that's your choice."
"You literally met her today," Scarlett reminded him with a laugh. "How would you know what her ping pong skills are like?"
I opened my mouth to defend myself, but my uncle beat me to it as he chimed in from where he sat at a nearby table.
"She's terrible at almost every sport, but what she lacks in skill, she makes up for with competitive spirit."
"Terrible is harsh!"
My protest did nothing to reassure Chris though as he shook his head.
"Good thing I have enough skill for the both of us then."
"I have skills!" I insisted. "Let's stop messing around and I'll prove it."
Anthony joined in the laughter at my expense as he bounced the ball on the table.
"Alright, do we all know the rules?" He asked. "The ball has to bounce once on your side of the table before you can hit it back."
"First to ten?" Chris suggested. "We'll let you guys go first."
We all agreed and Anthony bounced the ball again as he prepared to serve. He started off slow and gentle, lobbing it over slowly enough that I returned it with no trouble. However, when Scarlett hit it back, Chris made it clear he was here to play as he hit it with enough force that Scarlett had to leap out of the way to avoid being hit.
"Yes!" I cheered, reaching over to high five Chris. "Nice one!"
"Okay, I see how it is," Anthony shook his head as he tossed the ball back to us for our serve. "No holding back now."
Chris smirked as he easily caught the ball. He didn't waste any time before throwing it back with a hard serve, but this time they were ready for it and Anthony hit it back easily. He aimed it at me, which I could only assume was deliberate due to my uncle's doubts of my abilities, but I managed to send it straight back. His surprise at my success was clear as he was unprepared for it to be heading back in his direction and we scored another point.
"Beginners luck!"
Robert's interjection from the sidelines earned him a rude gesture from me, but I knew he was probably right - unless the last couple of drinks had somehow sharpened my reflexes and I seriously doubted that as I was already well on my way past tipsy.
However, the next few rounds showed that my uncle had been wrong and I, apparently, had quite a knack for table tennis. Chris and I worked together like a dream and were absolutely decimating Scarlett and Anthony. The game was almost over as fast as it started, but when we only needed one more point Chris suddenly appeared to give up. He missed shot after shot and we were quickly losing our lead which was making me lose my temper.
"Dammit, Chris," I huffed, trying to suppress my annoyance as he missed a very easy ball. "Get it together over there!"
"Me?!" He gawked. "I thought you were going to get that one!"
"It was clearly on your side!"
"If that's what you think," he started as he picked up the ball and came back to the table. "Then you need to get your eyes tested, sweetheart."
"Don't 'sweetheart' me," I shot back. "Start paying more attention before you make us lose."
"Whatever you say," he smirked at me before adding: "Sweetheart."
I shot him a glare and - without thinking - I swatted his very hard to ignore, perfectly sculpted bum with my paddle. He yelped, catching the ball that he'd just thrown into the air with the intention of serving and stared at me wide-eyed. I was almost as surprised by the action as he was and I opened my mouth to apologize, but I was interrupted before I could.
"Careful there, Whitney," Sebastian warned from where he sat with my uncle at the spectator's table. "That's Marvel property!"
"They're very protective of it too," Anthony joked. "It's one of their best assets."
"Yeah, so show it some respect," Chris demanded, looking cocky despite the slight red tint to his cheeks. "And anyway, if you're trying to get me to focus then I don't think making me think about spanking is a great strategy."
"Ooh," I giggled. "Someone get me the number for TMZ! I've got tomorrow's headline ready for them: 'Chris Evans likes to be spanked'!"
Chris barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he gently served the ball.
"Who said I like to be the one receiving?"
My mouth went dry when I realized what he was implying and several uncalled fantasies flashed through my brain. With that short little sentence, images filled my mind of him using his large hands for something entirely different to what they were currently doing - something that perhaps involved bending me over his lap. I felt a wave of heat wash over me at that thought as my gaze was drawn to him while I wondered if he was aware of the effect that he had on me. I was so pathetically distracted that I didn't even see the ball coming back towards us until it hit me on the side of my head.
-
Despite my embarrassing blunder, Chris and I managed to get ourselves together quickly enough to still win the game and our victory was promptly celebrated by another round of drinks.
My aunt and uncle left not long after that as they were eager to get home to their young children, but my uncle couldn't go without a few parting words when I hugged them goodbye.
"Chris is a good man," he informed me. "I'm not sure what his stance is on threesomes, but he wouldn't take you to Hooters on a first date, that's for sure."
I could tell what he was implying, but I questioned him anyway. The only answer I could pull out of him was a teasing wink and Susan ushered him out the door with a roll of her eyes and firm instructions for me to call them soon.
I tried to push his comment from my mind because the thought of a man as handsome, funny and intelligent as Chris Evans even considering the idea of taking me on a date seemed like insanity, but I would have been lying if I said it didn't instill a tiny flicker of hope in me. I was fairly certain that he had been flirting with me so maybe it wasn't entirely as far-fetched as my low self-esteem would have me believe.
I tried not to dwell on his words too much through the rest of the evening, but it was hard to shake the idea from my mind. Especially with how tactile he was with me. Whether it was when we moved on to dancing and he pulled me close, whenever we were walking to the bar and kept his arm draped around my waist or when we eventually settled on a pair of bar stools, sitting close enough that my knees were tucked between his.
That was how we were sat, tucked together at the bar, when I finished another drink and realized that the fuzziness in my head and the weight of my eyelids were telling me that it was time to head home. I wasn't eager for the night to end, I wanted to stay in this little flirtatious bubble as long as possible, but I could feel the alcohol induced fatigue hitting me and I knew I needed to leave before I no longer had the energy.
"How are you getting home?" Chris asked when I announced my departure. "Do you want some company while you wait for a cab?"
"Oh, that's okay," I assured him as I slid off the bar stool I'd been sitting on. "I'm just gonna walk."
"Walk?" He raised an eyebrow. "Where do you live?"
"Only about twenty minutes away," I shrugged. "It's no big deal."
I was being purposely vague, but Chris' questions persisted until I finally confessed what neighbourhood I lived in. Once I did, a worried look clouded his face.
"Really? That's not a great area..."
"It's not that bad!" I insisted. "I mean, I'll definitely move once the photography thing picks up and I would appreciate if you don't tell my uncle, but it's not that bad."
"He doesn't know?" Chris raised an eyebrow, giving me a look that could only be interpreted as one of judgment. I nodded in answer to his question and he sighed, tossing back the last of the beer in front of him before standing up as well. "Just let me say goodbye and I'll walk with you."
"No, no, you don't have to do that! Stay with your friends."
"My Ma would kill me if she found out I let a woman walk home alone and I'm guessing Robert would have something to say about it too from what you just said," he insisted, flashing me one of his dazzling smiles. "Besides, I was gonna head out soon anyway."
"Are you sure?"
He nodded in response.
"Absolutely."
I felt bad that he was leaving because of me, but I had a feeling that any arguments would be futile. I followed him around the room, saying goodbye to the few people who were still at the bar before we headed outside. As soon as the fresh air hit me, I really felt the full affects of the several drinks I'd had throughout the night and I was quite grateful for Chris' company on my walk.
"Thanks for doing this. I'm sorry you had to leave early."
Chris had pulled his baseball hat lower on his head, probably in an attempt to hide his identity a bit more, but the people bustling in the streets were too oblivious or drunk to pay much attention.
"Don't worry about it," he smiled down at me. "It was time for me to go anyway. I've had enough wild nights with Renner to know that nothing good happens after midnight."
"Oh, I see how it is," I smirked. "I thought this was a chivalrous gesture, but it's just an act of self-preservation."
Chris laughed, a deep laugh that made my smirk slide into a grin, as he held out his arm for me to take which I happily did.
"Can't it be both?"
"I suppose. I guess you must be pretty chivalrous to take on a role like Captain America." As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt my cheeks heat up. "Sorry, that was dumb. I sound like some shitty interviewer. Like, 'tell me what aspects of the character you see in yourself'."
I'd put on a bad, faux news anchor voice for the last part of that sentence and I felt Chris' arm shake as he chuckled, but he shook his head.
"Nah, it's fine. It's a fair question," he assured me. "I think I've always been pretty chivalrous. I'm close with my mom and two sisters so they made sure I knew how to treat a lady. But that is one bonus of playing a character like Cap, he has such strong morals and such a steady sense of right and wrong, it inspires me to be as much like him as I can be."
Just as he finished his thought, I stumbled over an uneven part of the sidewalk and was only saved from face planting by his grip on my arm. I flushed with embarrassment again, but the alcohol in my system had me dissolving into giggles.
"Sorry, thank you. Wow, I'd say you really do have some Captain America traits." I flashed him a smile. "Was it like a lifelong dream for you? If you don't mind me asking, last question about it, I promise."
"You can ask all the questions you want," he shrugged and it seemed genuine, not just an expected assurance. "But no, it wasn't. I actually turned it down several times."
"Really? You did? Isn't a role like that every actor's dream?"
"Probably," he nodded. "But I did the Marvel thing with Fantastic Four and even that little taste of fame was almost too much for me. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do and I'm so grateful for all the opportunities I've been given, but it can be a lot to deal with."
"Those obsessive fangirls too much for you?"
"Sometimes," he admitted. " I was already having panic attacks, so I wasn't sure that I could handle taking that next step. But it's more just the total lack of privacy that comes with fame. Not just for me either, I knew it would affect my whole family."
"That makes sense," I nodded, knowing from my own experience that he was absolutely right. There'd been a few unfortunate incidents on slow news days where articles about 'Robert Downey Jr.'s niece' had popped up after some of my poorer choices in life. "Are you glad that you went for it now?"
"Absolutely! It was the best thing I've ever done. There are times when I still struggle, I don't do well at the premieres with all the pressure and the people, but the whole cast is like a family so the support is amazing."
"It's really sweet how close you guys all seem to be."
"It makes a big difference," Chris agreed as we turned off the main street in the direction of my neighbourhood. "But what about you? Have you always wanted to be a photographer?"
I paused for a moment as I tried to get my rather tipsy brain to figure out the simplest response to his question.
"Yes and no," I finally answered. "I've always loved photography, but I never really considered it as a career until about two years ago. I actually went to university to study accounting."
"Accounting? Wow, so you're a math wiz?"
"Hardly," I giggled. "It was what my dad wanted me to do to guarantee myself a solid career, but I hated it. I flunked out within a year. I'm not entirely sure that my dad has ever forgiven me for it, he was really disappointed in me."
"But surely he just wants you to be happy, whatever job you have..."
"You would think so," I shrugged. "Doesn't feel like it all the time though. He's very against the whole starving artist thing. He's not a bad person, but he's very practical and just can't understand how suffocating an office job would be for someone who likes to be creative. I get the impression that just being around me these days exasperates him."
I felt another blush cover my cheeks as I realized I was over-sharing. It could easily be blamed on the alcohol, but Chris was a good listener and I found him very easy to talk to.
"Sorry," I mumbled. "That was more information than you probably needed."
"You don't need to apologize so much," Chris assured me. "I wouldn't have asked the question if I didn't want to hear the answer."
"Sor-" I paused. "Bad habit, I guess."
Chris squeezed my arm and shot me a reassuring smile before getting our conversation back on track.
"So, what made you persevere with photography in the end?"
"I just really enjoy doing it. I love capturing those unexpected moments, like the awkward laughter in between poses, the moments when people have their guard down and don't realize how beautiful they look. Then, when I get to share the photos I've taken with people and they see themselves in a different way, the joy it brings them makes it worth any financial struggles." As I finished my explanation, a thought struck me. "I actually got some good ones today, just on my phone when you guys first came in, not doing the planned and posed stuff."
They'd all been so excited to see each other even though it was just a few short weeks since they'd wrapped the film. It was sweet and I hadn't been able to resist capturing their reunion.
"Really? Could I see them?"
"If you give me your phone number, I can send them to you," I smiled up at him. "That would actually be helpful. They're obviously different than the ones I took for the actual shoot, but you can tell me if they're any good or if you think I just got the job because of my connections."
I reached into my bag and handed my phone to Chris so he could type in his number which he did before shooting me a skeptical glance.
"Do you really think your connection to Robert is the only reason you got the job?"
"Well, it was all so last minute. I can't help, but assume it's a mix of desperation and some pulled strings," I admitted. "But I know this is my one shot. Robert really believes in people making their own way in life so if I totally blow this opportunity, I know he won't fight for them to have me back again and I wouldn't want him to."
We turned another corner, taking us just a few blocks from my apartment building as Chris answered.
"I'm sure he wouldn't have gotten you the job if there was any chance that he thought you would fail," Chris assured me. "But he is a good person to have in your corner. I probably wouldn't have taken the Captain America gig at all if it wasn't for him convincing me I could do it. He can be very persuasive."
I smiled at that information. I knew my uncle didn't like to take no for an answer so I could imagine how that conversation went.
"He can be very encouraging when he needs to be," I agreed. "Even if that encouragement sometimes comes out in the form of publicly shaming someone for their taste in men."
Chris let out another deep laugh and shook his head.
"C'mon, you gotta admit you deserved that."
"I did not!"
"He took you to Hooters and you didn't run away as fast as possible," Chris reminded me as if I could have forgotten such an embarrassing decision. "If that's not deserving of some public shaming then I don't know what is."
"Dating is hard these days," I huffed. "Maybe it would be easier if I had giant muscles like you, but it's hard to meet people."
"I think having muscles the size of mine would actually make you less hot."
I couldn't bite back the giggle that slipped from my lips as I looked up at him with a questioning raise of my eyebrows.
"Less hot?" I asked. "That would imply that you think I'm hot now."
"I do," Chris smirked confidently. "I think you're fuckin' gorgeous."
His words instantly made my cheeks heat up again. I'd baited him into the compliment, but I didn't expect his blunt and honest answer. I was stunned into a momentary silence that only made Chris' smirk grow wider until I giggled once again.
"You're just drunk."
"I am not," Chris chuckled. "Well, maybe a little, but that doesn't change the facts."
There was a grin on my face and I felt like a little schoolgirl with a crush. Chris Evans just called me gorgeous. Any woman who said they didn't swoon in that situation was probably lying.
"That's very sweet of you to say," I told him, trying to play it cool. "You're pretty easy on the eyes yourself."
Chris squeezed my arm again as he flashed me a smile.
My apartment building was in sight now, just half a block away, and I was disappointed that our evening was about to end.
I was comfortable with Chris. He was nice and easy to talk to and I'd had more fun and laughs with him in the last few hours than I'd had throughout most of my last relationship. But despite our harmless flirting, I knew he was too good for me. I knew that I didn't stand a chance with him and that when the alcohol wore off and the sun came up, he would see that. As much as I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I could hardly keep us walking in circles around the block without him noticing so I reluctantly slowed to a stop outside my building.
"This is me..."
Chris looked up and nodded slowly.
"It doesn't look so bad."
"Because it's not!" I insisted. "Honestly, this isn't that bad of a neighbourhood."
"Well, it's not that great either, Whitney."
Another giggle slipped from my lips as I pulled my keys out of my purse, reluctantly slipping my arm from his.
"Your accent makes my name sound funny," I teased. "You don't say Whitney, you say Win-ney."
Chris laughed, but shook his head.
"Now who's drunk."
"Oh, definitely me," I admitted. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."
"Okay, Winnie, whatever you say."
He said my name wrong on purpose that time, but there was something about it that put a smile on my face. Emboldened by the alcohol and by his flirtatious nature, I decided to take a chance.
"Do you want to come up for a bit?" I asked. "One last drink maybe?"
Chris hesitated, but after a moment of thought, he shook his head.
"Nah, I should probably get home. I think I've had enough drinks for tonight." His solid reasoning eased the blow of rejection slightly, but it still burned me up inside. "Thanks for the invite though, maybe I'll take you up on that offer another time."
"Sure," I nodded, hoping I was masking my disappointment. "That would be nice."
"Great," he grinned before pulling me into a hug. "It was nice to meet you, Winnie. I have a feeling that we're going to be good friends."
Friends.
Good friends.
His words echoed in my head as I agreed and slipped out of his grasp. We said our goodbyes, I thanked him for escorting me home and I watched as he walked back down the street before I went inside.
Friends. F-R-I-E-N-D-S.
At least he'd made himself clear and subtly let me down easy before I had chance to form any wrong ideas about what our relationship was or could be. It hurt and I would be lying if I said it didn't feel a bit like a stab in the heart, but I was glad that he'd put me in my place before I made a fool of myself by making a move.
I knew I'd been getting ahead of myself anyway. I knew he was way out of my league, but he'd called me gorgeous and walked me home. He'd even given me a nickname. Maybe I'm just easy to impress, but it felt like he was interested. I guess being a big star in Hollywood requires a certain level of charm though and he was probably just used to being naturally flirtatious with most of the women he encounters.
I sighed as I let myself into my apartment and tossed my bag on the table by the door. I'd felt like the luckiest girl in the world only moments earlier and now I was back to feeling like I was a romantic lost cause. I dragged myself through the motions of getting ready for bed and flopped down on top of the blankets - it was too hot to be under them and I didn't have the luxury of air conditioning.
Perhaps it was for the best that Chris declined my invitation to come upstairs, I thought to myself. This apartment was hardly up to Hollywood standards, it was hardly up to my own standards even if it was all that I could afford.
As my head laid on the pillow and my heart sat heavy in my chest, I told myself that it was fine. If Chris wanted to just be friends then I would be grateful that he even wanted that. I made a mental note to send him those pictures in the morning - because I'd promised to and not because I was curious to see what kind of response I would get when he was sober - and fell into a restless sleep filled with dreams of my new friend.
---
July 2016
And so, we were friends. Good friends, maybe even great friends.
I sent Chris the photos he’d asked for the day after we met and we spent most of that day messaging back and forth. Our friendship only grew from there and, whenever he was in town, we spent as much time together as we possibly could.
But we kept things very much friendly.
There was some flirtatious exchanges, but I respected his wishes and kept the feelings that I'd developed to myself.
My career really took off in the year after we met as well. That first Marvel photo shoot had gone incredibly well which led to several more contracts with them as well as other high profile jobs. It was a long, busy year, but I was grateful and relished in my success.
I'd even managed to move into a new apartment in a much nicer neighbourhood which felt like quite a big achievement and had finally silenced Chris' fretting about my safety. I moved in May, but our busy schedules kept him from seeing my upgraded home for himself until that summer, almost a year after we met. He was returning to L.A. from a trip home to Massachusetts and we hadn't seen each other in months so I was very eager for our reunion. Despite the fact that were still in constant communication, I'd missed him terribly and had been counting down the minutes until he would be arriving at my place.
"So," My friend's voiced echoed through my phone from where it sat on the bathroom counter while I finished curling my hair into beachy waves. "Are you going to finally make a move tonight?"
"No," I scoffed. "Of course not, Hannah. I've not seen him in a while now, I want us to have a good time. I don't want to make him uncomfortable and ruin everything."
"I will bet you a thousand dollars that it wouldn't ruin everything," she insisted. "Honestly, I will give you a thousand dollars if you make a move tonight and it goes badly."
I rolled my eyes as I finished the last curly wave and reached for my hairspray.
"You can't put a price on my friendship with Chris."
"Oh my god," she groaned. "He's told you that he thinks you're gorgeous, he makes time to hang out with you whenever he can and he texts you every single day. He treats you better than any boyfriend you've ever had. How can you think he doesn't have feelings for you?"
I took a moment to spray my hair and give myself one last look over before taking her off speaker and answering the question as I walked towards my kitchen.
"Because he straight up told me that he wants to be friends," I reminded her. "And he's never given me any other signs that he's interested in anything more."
"He doesn't need to give you any signs. When someone looks at you the way that he looks at you that says enough."
"Well, I'm going to need him to say a little more."
Another groan came through the phone as the buzzer to my apartment rang.
"You're impossible."
"I know, I know, and my lack of self-esteem will make me die alone," I said, repeating the words she'd told me a hundred times. "But he's here now, so you're going to have to save your criticisms for another time."
"Just tell him how you feel," she huffed. "I expect a full report in the morning."
The buzzer rang again as I agreed and said my goodbyes to my friend. I took a deep breath and a moment to push Hannah's words from my mind before pressing the button on the intercom.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Win, it's me! Let me up."
I pressed the button to unlock the door and felt my lips slide into a cheek aching grin just from the sound of his voice. It had been too long since we'd had a chance to hang out and I was very much looking forward to a nice evening together.
It took him barely a minute to get up to my apartment, knocking twice before letting himself in.
"Hey!" I grinned, rushing towards him as he held his arms open. I threw mine around him as soon as I was close enough and squeezed him tightly. "I missed you!"
"I missed you too," he smiled. "Nice place you got here, someone's doing well for themselves."
"Oh, please," I giggled, slipping out of his arms. "I've seen your house, Mr. Evans. This is a dump compared to where you live."
"Nah, this place is great!"
"It's definitely an improvement," I admitted as I led him towards the kitchen. "Would you like a drink? I bought that beer you like."
"You didn't have to do that. I would have been fine with whatever you have in," he chided me, but I waved him off and assured him it was fine. "What's the plan for tonight anyway?"
I shrugged as I opened the fridge to get a beer out for him and a bottle of wine for myself.
"I don't mind. Do you want to go out for drinks later or just stay here? It is a Saturday so everywhere around here will be packed with women in their early twenties if you'd like your ego stroked a bit."
I was referring to the last time we'd gone out and made the mistake of going to a bar that turned out to be pretty unfriendly to celebrities. A lot of places in L.A. made it easy for celebrities to go under the radar, but the place we'd gone to apparently wasn't one of them. There was a steady stream of beautiful young women trying their luck with Chris all night until we eventually fled and went back to his place just to give him some peace.
Chris laughed, clearly understanding what I was referencing, but he shook his head.
"Honestly? I'd prefer to stay in tonight," he admitted, but a smirk slid onto his face as he very obviously gave me a once over. "But you got all dressed up and it would be a shame to waste an outfit like that on a night in."
"Oh, this old thing?" I glanced down at the short black sundress I was wearing, a blush covering my cheeks from his compliment. "I just put this on in case we did decide to go out, but staying in sounds good to me. I'm well stocked with supplies."
I gestured to the wine and beer on the counter and the few bottles of hard liquor behind them.
"Then we'll stay in?"
"Sure," I nodded as a thought hit me and I gasped with excitement. "Oh, we can sit on my balcony! It over looks the park and I just got a new little couch for it."
"Very fancy," Chris laughed. "You really are doing well for yourself."
"Shut up," I rolled my eyes. "I don’t think Ikea patio furniture is a particularly high aspiration for anyone."
"Don't sell yourself short! You're finally getting recognition for your talent and that's worth celebrating."
I smiled as I led him through the living room and opened the door to my balcony with a flourish. The heat of July in California hit us immediately, but the balcony was shaded which made it a more reasonable temperature.
"This is nice," Chris nodded approvingly. "Well done, Winnie."
He sat on the couch and held his beer up towards me. I gently clinked my glass against it before sitting next to him. I thanked him once I was settled, hiding the width of my grin with my glass as I took a sip.
"So, how was Massachusetts?" I asked, curling my feet underneath me. "Do you have much more time off or are you back at it pretty quick?"
"I've actually got some time off," Chris informed me. "I think I'll probably spend most of it back home. It was great being there the last few weeks. It just feels better than L.A."
"Most places probably feel better than L.A.," I pointed out with a scoff. "This place is exhausting."
"You should come visit some time," Chris suggested before flashing me a smirk. "I feel bad leaving you here when I'm clearly your only friend."
"Excuse me, that is not true!" I protested, my jaw dropping at his insult as he chuckled at his own joke. "I have plenty of friends, thank you very much. All those liquor bottles on the counter are leftover from my very crowded house-warming party."
"Oh, no, Winnie," he laughed, his hand coming up to his chest. "Don't try and provide evidence that you have friends. That makes you seem even more pathetic."
"More pathetic than what? I have friends!"
"Imaginary ones don't count."
I couldn't help, but laugh at that insult as I shook my head.
"You're so rude. I don't know why I put up with you."
"Because you have no one else." He shot me a very over the top look of pity until I swatted his arm and he dissolved into laughter again. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Seriously though, you should come out to Massachusetts sometime. I'll show you around."
"That would be fun," I agreed. "I'm pretty busy with work over the summer, but I think I'm in New York for a shoot in September. I could maybe tie a trip in with that if you're still out there."
"I should be if nothing else comes up," Chris nodded. "And fall is a great time to come. It's gorgeous."
"I bet. It would be nice to experience a season instead of just this sweltering L.A. heat all the time."
I made a face to emphasize my point as I sipped my drink and Chris eyed me suspiciously.
"I can't help, but get the impression that you're not loving it here at the moment..."
"I don't know," I shrugged. "Not really. I thought moving into a better apartment would help, but I'm just kinda tired of it, I guess."
"It can be draining here," he nodded. "Have you thought about moving somewhere else?"
I sighed and shook my head.
"Not really. I'd miss my family too much. I'd have to have a good reason, I think, or know someone wherever I was going."
"Well, you'll always know someone in Massachusetts," he smiled. "And my Ma would love you. I'm sure she'd take you in right away."
"Awe, Mama Evans. I'd love to meet her...Mostly so I could demand an apology for her part in raising such a horrible man."
Chris threw his head back with another chest grab worthy laugh.
"Oh man, I know. My brother is pretty awful."
I snorted a laugh at his comeback, but shook my head.
"Scott was delightful the few times I met him," I informed him. "I was clearly talking about you."
"Me?!" He gasped dramatically. "What are you talking about? I'm a total gentleman."
"Imaginary friends don't count," I repeated his words back to him in a very bad impression of his deep voice and Boston accent. "Yeah, you're such a gentleman."
"It's called a joke, Winnie," he teased. "Try having a sense of humour."
I stuck my tongue out at him in response, but I had to admit that the teasing was nice. I really had missed him while he was away and I was relieved that we fell back together so naturally that it was like we'd never been apart.
-
Our conversation continued to flow well into the night and so did our drinks. A few hours later and several alcoholic beverages down, the temperature was starting to drop a bit as the sun set, but our conversation was just starting to heat up.
"So," Chris turned to me with a smirk as he sipped the tequila sunrise I'd just made for him. He'd sworn he wouldn't like it, that it would be too sweet, but apparently he was too tipsy to really care. "How's your love life these days? Any more trips to Hooters?"
I snorted a laugh as I shook my head.
"I need more alcohol if we're going to delve into my love life."
Mostly because the biggest detriment to my romantic life was currently sitting on the couch with me, but I wasn't going to volunteer that information. Chris nudged the bottom of the glass in my hand, gently enough not to spill any but firmly enough to lift it slightly.
"Drink up then because I'm curious. Especially after a statement like that."
The irony of someone who was very vocal about how much they hated being constantly interrogated and harassed about their love life trying to do that exact thing to me wasn't lost on me, but I knew he'd keep pestering me until I opened up. I did as Chris suggested and took a large swig of my drink before answering him.
"No, there hasn't been any more dates at Hooters lately," I assured him. "But I did go on a date last week that was disappointing in it's own way."
Chris raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? How so?"
"He turned out to be a Robert Downey Jr. fanboy," I admitted, rolling my eyes as Chris let out a laugh. "It was going well until I made the mistake of mentioning that he's my uncle. He wouldn't shut up about him - stop laughing! - It was awful. Honestly, he went on and on! I eventually asked him if he'd rather be on a date with my uncle than me."
"And what did he say?"
I scowled at the memory.
"He said yes and asked for his number." That admission drew another howl of laughter from Chris and I couldn't help, but giggle along with him despite my shaking head. "Honestly, Chris, it's not funny. I have the worst luck."
"You have the worst taste in men." He corrected and I wondered briefly if he'd be less confident in that statement if he knew that he was my taste, even more so when he continued. "You're only interested in the douchey guys and then you're always shocked when they act like assholes."
"That is so not true!" I protested. "How am I supposed to know they're going to be douche bags? We talk for like two days on a dating app before we meet up and they always seem normal!"
"What was this one's job?"
I cringed and took another big swig of my drink.
"A club promoter."
"Exactly!" Chris groaned. "And hadn't the one before him quit his job to try and get famous on YouTube?"
"Instagram," I corrected. "But, so what? I struggled for a long time before my career went anywhere. You can't judge people by something like that."
"For the most part, I agree with you," Chris nodded. "But there are some careers that only attract a certain kind of person."
I huffed at his logic, but there was some truth to what he was saying.
"Dating is just hard these days," I insisted. "Besides, from what I've seen online lately, you're one to talk about messy relationships."
Now it was Chris' turn to take a gulp of the drink in his hand as he raised an eyebrow at my claim.
"Everything you read about me is bullshit, you know that. I haven't dated anyone lately, people just like to make things up."
"Oh, what I was reading the other day wasn't really about who you were dating."
That got his attention as he shot me a surprised look.
"What was it about then?"
"I thought it was all bullshit?" I smirked. "Does it matter what it was if it's not true?"
Chris shrugged.
"Even if it's not true, I like to know what people are saying about me."
"And you don't have a team to provide you with that information?"
"I do," he nodded. "But they don't tell me everything so I'd love to know what you read."
I swallowed hard, suddenly feeling shy about disclosing what I'd seen. I took a moment to figure out how to say it before telling him.
"I stumbled across an article that claimed an anonymous source, who recently spent the night with you, told them that you are not particularly skilled at going down on a woman."
Chris' jaw dropped and I couldn't help, but laugh again at the outrage on his face.
"That's fuckin' bullshit!" He protested. "Why would anyone believe an anonymous source? It's obviously not true! Why would they even write that?"
I smirked again as I tried to hold back the laughter bubbling up inside me. Of course, I didn't believe an anonymous source and I felt bad for Chris that mean rumours like that were being spread around the internet, but that didn't mean I wasn't going to tease him about it anyway.
"I don't know. She must have had some kind of proof, they wouldn't have published it without fact checking."
"They absolutely would!" Chris laughed incredulously. "They publish anything that gets clicks!"
I shrugged and tried to stifle the giggles still fighting to come out.
"It seemed pretty believable to me. I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe just take the criticism and use it to grow."
"I don't need to use it to grow!" He insisted. "I have plenty of skills in that area, I've never had any complaints."
"Until now."
"It's not true!"
"Unfortunately, I'll never know..."
I froze, hearing my words echo through my head as Chris' eyes widened in surprise for a brief moment before a twinkle appeared. It was a simple statement, but we both picked up on what it implied, especially with the hint of intrigue, almost challenge, in my voice.
Chris tossed back the last of his drink and then shifted, sitting up a bit straighter as the look of annoyance on his face had changed into something almost cocky. I took a sip of my own drink, hoping to drown the nerves that were bubbling in my stomach as the cool evening breeze suddenly did nothing to ease the heat that surrounded us.
"Well, how am I suppose to prove it to you?"
He moved his hand until it was resting on my knee and I had to stifle a gasp at the sensation. We were fairly affectionate and much more touchy with each other than many friends were, but this felt different. There was a tension between us now and I swallowed hard, not wanting the alcohol in my system to make me misinterpret anything.
"I don't know." I bit my lip as he stared me down, a smirk back on his face now. "Why don't you de-describe it?"
Demonstrate.
Demonstrate was the word that I was looking for, the word that was on the tip of my tongue.
Describe was not quite as flirtatious. It was like I'd just set him some kind of essay assignment. I cringed, but Chris was unfazed as he chuckled and nodded his head.
"Alright," he shrugged. "Where should I start?"
Before I even had time to answer, he began his explanation.
His voice was low as he spoke, sparing no detail. He described every kiss, every touch and every little tease. By the time he was describing how much he liked to watch whoever was he was pleasuring, looking up from where his face was buried to see her orgasm roll through her body, I was almost shamelessly panting. His hand was still on my leg, stroking higher and higher on my thigh and I felt more aroused from his words than I had from the last few sexual encounters that I'd had.
He was watching me when he finished speaking, a smirk on his face and his eyes narrowed in a seductive stare as I took a shaky breath.
It was now or never.
Tossing back the last of my drink, I put my glass on the table. Then, I took the glass in his hand and did the same.
He was watching me the whole time, meeting my eyes as I sat back on the couch. My mind was running a mile a minute as the gravity of the situation hit me, but I tried to push all thoughts of doubt from my head as I bit my bottom lip in anticipation. His eyes flicked down to watch the movement and that was all the confirmation I needed.
I darted forward fast enough that I wouldn't have time to change my mind and pressed my lips against his.
There was a brief moment when he froze. I felt his hand tense on my thigh and his body seemed more rigid than it had moments ago, but he recovered quickly and a low growl came from his throat before his hands moved to my waist and effortlessly lifted me into his lap.
I gasped at the movement, momentarily taking my lips away from his, but before I could even mumble out any comments on his strength, he'd pressed our lips together again.
It was a sloppy kiss. Spurred on by our mounting tension and the panic bubbling inside me that any minute now he would change his mind and push me away in disgust, our movements were frantic and desperate. My hands slid around his neck, one moving up to the back of his head as if I needed to hold him in place, but his fingers digging into my waist made me think that he was having the same thought.
Eventually though, the need for air forced us apart and I rested my forehead against his as we fought to catch our breath. The pause in our actions gave my brain time to catch up to my body and I immediately felt the nerves kick in.
Logically, I knew we should slow things down and talk about what this meant. My feelings for Chris went deeper than a drunken hook up and I was setting myself up for heartbreak if he wasn't on the same page. However, there was a more impulsive part of my brain that didn't care. I'd wanted this for so long, surely I deserved a chance to just enjoy it.
As if Chris could read my mind, his deep voice cut through my thoughts.
"Are we really doing this?"
I bit my lip, knowing this was the time to voice any concerns that I had, but as I stared into his eyes, I couldn't make myself jeopardize the moment.
"Yes," I nodded. "I'm in if you are?"
A smirk slid onto Chris' face as he nodded as well.
"I've been waiting almost a whole fuckin' year for this," he admitted. "I'm absolutely in."
I felt my heart flutter at his confession. If he'd been waiting for this as long as I had then that must have meant that we were on the same page. No one waits that long for a meaningless fuck, he would have made a move by now if there wasn't more to it.
In an effort to silence my overactive brain, I pressed my lips back against his which proved to be the perfect distraction. All worries and cares slipped from my mind as his tongue slipped back into my mouth and his hands drifted down to cup my ass. I could practically feel them burning through my thin dress and as they squeezed slightly, pressing my hips closer towards his, I could tell that my panties were already much damper than was probably reasonable.
But the anticipation was practically killing me.
My body felt like it was on fire as every brush of his tongue, every caress of my skin, every sigh that fell from his lips against my mouth, had me writing against him like a cat in heat. Often, when I'd imagined what this moment would be like, I'd assumed it would be slow - we'd take our time and savour every touch - but I hadn't factored in just how desperate we'd both be or how quickly I would be filled with the absolute need for there to be less layers of fabric between us.
Chris sucked in a deep breath as his lips moved from mine, sliding lower to kiss along my jaw. I could feel a bulge growing between us, telling me that he was as overeager as I was so, as shivers tingled down my spine from the trail his mouth was taking, I fought through the distractions to speak.
"Chris," I panted. "Let's go inside."
His lips paused their movement as he nuzzled into my neck.
"Not much of an exhibitionist?"
"Not on the first date."
My words were teasing and a shrug of my shoulders accompanied my response, earning a chuckle from Chris.
"Alright, that's fair."
I nudged his head away from my skin so I could press another soft kiss to his lips.
My intention was to then climb off of his lap and lead him into my apartment, but he had other ideas as his hands slid under my thighs and his grip tightened. With one smooth motion and an impressive show of strength, he stood from the couch and lifted me up with him. I gasped and rushed to wrap my legs around his waist for stability, but the smirk on his face and the bulge of his bicep told me that it probably wasn't necessary. He was incredibly strong and it sent another flush of arousal through me at the thought of the beautifully sculpted physique under his clothes.
"Are you bulking up for Cap again?"
I mumbled the words in an attempt to keep my mind busy and stop myself before I started rubbing myself against his stomach. With the way my legs were positioned there was merely a shirt and my panties between us and it was entirely too tempting.
"Nah, got a month or two before that starts again," he informed me, quirking an eyebrow. "Why do you ask?"
I pointed him towards the door of my bedroom before answering as I tried to keep the shock out of my voice.
"So, you're like, always this strong?"
Chris chuckled slightly as he kicked my bedroom door open.
"Well, I'm no club promoter," he teased. "But I do tend to stay at a certain level of fitness for when the job does require it."
My jaw dropped at his audacity to bring that up again at a moment like this, but I couldn't stop the snort of laughter that slipped out.
"Shut up," I demanded, letting my thumb stroke against the soft skin on the back of his neck. "Before I come to my senses and ask you to leave."
Now it was Chris' turn to laugh as he gently tossed me onto the bed before crawling over me like a lion stalking it's prey.
"C'mon," he smirked as he hovered over me. "I think we both know that the last thing you want me to do right now is leave."
With that, he pressed his lips back against mine before I had chance to argue. Not that I would have, because he was absolutely right. There was a long list of things I wanted him to do, but leaving was not one of them. In fact, as I let my arms slid over his toned shoulders, I pulled him even closer.
I couldn't get enough of him. I wanted to hear every little grunt and moan, I wanted to feel every inch of his body against mine, I wanted to see his muscles quiver and twitch with pleasure, I wanted him inside me and we'd barely even started. A year of waiting would make anyone desperate and, as much as I was revelling in his talented mouth as it moved against my own, I was eager to see what else he could do with it.
Sliding my hands down along his back, I ran them over his waist until they were at the hem of his shirt and, in an attempt to move things along, I slid them back up over his stomach, bringing his shirt with them. I paused, taking a moment to trace over his abs and he chuckled, moving his lips down to nuzzle them into my neck.
"That tickles," he mumbled against my skin as I smiled.
"Sorry, I'm just trying to wrap my head around the fact that these muscles are real."
"They are," he smiled up at me. "Are you impressed?"
"Maybe a little," I admitted with a smile of my own. "I'll be more impressed if you get these clothes out of the way and let me admire you properly."
He chuckled again, but didn't fight as I pulled his shirt over his head. The light in the room was dim and the way we were positioned didn't give me an optimal view, but what I could see was enough to draw a soft gasp from my lips.
I'd seen him shirtless and in even less from a few sneaky Google searches and watching his old movies, but seeing it all right in front of me was quite a treat. I had to double check that I wasn't drooling at the sight as I openly stared, my mouth slightly agape.
I realized I was probably ogling him a little too long when a faint blush covered his cheeks and he ducked his head back against my neck. He placed another soft kiss against my skin before he spoke.
"Now, it's your turn."
"Okay," I agreed, swallowing hard. "But just keep in mind that I don't look like that."
I ran my hands up and down his sides to emphasize what I was referring to and I felt more than heard him chuckle as he peered up at me once more.
"I'd be disappointed if we had the same upper body," he teased. "I mean, if I'm being honest."
I rolled my eyes despite the smile on my face.
"You know what I mean," I insisted. "I'm not sculpted by the Gods like you are."
His head fell back against my shoulder as he shook with laughter before shaking his head.
"You have nothing to worry about," he assured me. "You're too hard on yourself. You're fuckin' gorgeous."
His words took me back to the first night we met as the sincerity in his voice was the same as it had been back then. And there was something about the confidence with which he spoke that had me believing him.
So, as his hands slid under my dress - teasing the outside of my thighs in a way that had me biting my lip to force back a moan - I pushed any negative thoughts or doubts about myself from my mind. I even felt a hint of pride when my dress was discarded, exposing my lack of bra, and making Chris' eyes darken as they scoured over my body.
"Fuck, Winnie," he groaned as he soaked in the sight of my exposed chest. "You're beautiful."
I felt my heart flutter at the genuine awe in his voice and at his word choice. Gorgeous, hot, sexy - those are all compliments I would have loved to receive from him, but beautiful. It seemed deeper, more romantic. There was a brief reminder from the voice in my head that perhaps the importance of such a simple word was a signal I shouldn't be moving forward with this without having a very serious conversation about feelings first, but I was quick to ignore it as I pulled Chris back to my lips.
It seemed he was as desperate to move things along as I was though as his mouth didn't linger against mine for very long before it was trailing a path down my neck. He paused when he got to my chest, letting out a groan as he nuzzled the skin before sucking it just hard enough to leave a faint mark when he moved back. The sight had me squirming beneath him and he shot me a smirk before moving his lips to my nipple.
Gasping at the sensation, I arched up towards him as he continued to nip and tease me. If his current actions were anything to go by then whoever wrote the article that I read was very sorely mistaken. He appeared to be incredibly talented with his mouth and by the time he moved away from my nipple to continue his path down my body, my chest was heaving and I was sure that I was just one gentle touch away from my peak.
However, I was disappointed when he got to the top of my panties and, after licking along the skin of my lower stomach, pushed himself up and moved off of me to stand at the foot of my bed. I whined in protest, wanting him as close to me as possible, but all I got was a smirk in response.
"Patience," he mumbled as he unbuttoned his jeans.
I wanted to pout, to argue that I'd been patient enough in the last year, but any complaints died on my tongue as he pushed his jeans to the floor. As he stood in front of me, only in his underwear, my sense of urgency was replaced by an appreciation for the chance to admire his chiselled body. I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better view and he chuckled at the look of wonder that I was sure was on my face.
His underwear was the next thing to go and the anticipation turned quickly to shock as my jaw dropped at what he revealed. I could have assumed from the large bulge that he was quite well-endowed, but seeing it confirmed sent a whole new flush of arousal through me. I mumbled out a 'wow' as I bit my lip and tried to take it all in - he truly was a gorgeous man.
"Like what you see?"
His question snapped me out of my daze as he knelt back down on the end of the bed.
"Very much so," I nodded, desperate to feel his body over mine once again. "Come back up here."
"No," Chris grinned as he ducked down to place a kiss on my ankle. "Not yet."
Again, part of me wanted to argue and demand that he return his mouth to mine and get things moving, but before I could even open my mouth, he made his intentions clear - by tracing his fingers up my leg with his lips close behind.
I was quivering under his touch, still leaning up on my elbows when he reached the edge of the panties I was wearing. He glanced up at me as he licked along the lace before he bit into the material and tugged. I lifted my hips to ease his struggle as he yanked my panties down my legs with his teeth. The sight of it had me squeezing my thighs together, desperate for any kind of friction, but as soon as my underwear joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, he was quick to pull my legs apart again.
"Keep 'em open for me," he demanded, that damn smirk still firmly on his face. "I've got something to prove."
I giggled at that statement, but did as he asked. I was still watching his movements, until he dipped his head forehead and pressed his lips against me. That first moment of contact was enough to have my head flopping back against the pillows as my hands shot down to grip his hair. I was vaguely aware of him mumbling something about how wet I was, but my brain was too busy trying to process the pleasure he was giving me to take in his words.
He wasted no time demonstrating everything that he'd described to me earlier that night. His tongue was focused and precise in its movements and, contrary to what I read, he clearly knew what he was doing as he easily narrowed in on my clit. It wasn't enough though. I needed more pressure, more friction, and I pushed up towards him with a moan on my lips to urge him on. He wasn't having any of that as his hands looped under my thighs to settle on my hips, holding me in place, but he increased the pressure as he apparently understood what I needed despite my lack of ability to verbalize it.
I immediately felt a familiar feeling starting to build.
He sucked and licked with an urgency that I very much appreciated, flicking his tongue in just the right spot at just the right speed to have me trembling beneath him. I managed to gasp out a warning 'oh god' as my hands gripped his hair even tighter and I fell apart into a puddle of whimpers and moans. My orgasm hit me more fiercely than I'd imagined in my wildest fantasies of this moment and I arched up against him, his name pouring from my lips like a chant as he continued his efforts with a low groan of his own only adding to my pleasure.
As my breathing started to slow, Chris gently ceased his movements and moved his head back before resting his chin on my thigh. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked up at me.
"Well?"
"I'm going to write my own article," I told him, feeling that wonderful post peak bliss wash over me. "Because someone was obviously very misinformed."
Chris chuckled before pulling his hands from my hips to plant them on the bed and drag himself back over me.
"I'm glad I exceeded expectations."
"Mhmm," I hummed in agreement as his lips hovered above mine. "Now, let's see what else you can do."
Chris flashed me a smile and kissed me briefly before leaning back just enough to reach down and take his cock in his hand. Another moan fell from my lips as he rubbed it against me for a moment before nudging against my entrance and finally pressing inside. He moved slowly, but even so, I winced at the sensation. The slight burn as I stretched around him felt good but there was an undeniable ache as well. Sensing my hesitation, Chris paused and dropped his head for another soft kiss. I waited a moment, until the initial spark of discomfort had passed before pressing my hips up towards him.
He took the hint and continued his slow, almost torturous, movement until he was fully inside. The burning pain returned as it felt like he was taking up every inch of space I had to offer, but it felt incredible.
"Fuck," he breathed against my neck where his head had settled again. "You're tight..."
He shifted his hips pulling another gasp from my lips.
"Only because you're huge."
I felt a puff of laughter before he nipped at my shoulder.
"Thank you."
I would have smacked him for his cocky tone, but he moved then and suddenly my mind was blank of anything other than how good it felt. His movements were slow at first, every thrust dragging every inch of him against every nerve inside me, but his restraint quickly waned as his pace increased.
I let out a moan as my head fell back against the pillows and I hitched my leg higher on his hip. He moved his hand to the back of my thigh to hold it in place as he built a steady rhythm that had us both panting as I fought to match his thrusts. My fingers dug into his shoulders as his short beard rubbed against my skin.
The sensations were overwhelming. It was like he was completely encompassing me, smothering all of my senses and I could feel the pressure building again in the pit of my stomach in a way that it all felt like too much, but not enough all at the same time. I clenched around him, earning a groan of approval from Chris as I swore I could feel him twitch inside me. The pleasure was building quickly and his thrusts got sloppier and more frantic until suddenly he pulled out of me completely.
I felt empty and immediately wanted him back inside of me, my disappointment only growing as he pushed himself up to kneel back on his heels. The only compensation was how good he looked, muscles tight and his cock hard, practically throbbing and shiny from my being drenched in my wetness.
"Turn over," he instructed, his raspy voice bringing me back to the task at hand.
It took a moment for me to process his words, but I giggled as soon as I did.
"What?" He asked, a smile on his face.
"Nothing," I laughed again as I pushed myself up to do as he asked. "You just really are 'clearly' an ass man."
A look of realization crossed his face as he cringed slightly, his hand pausing from where he had reached down to stroke himself. I settled on my knees with my back to him as he answered.
"You heard about that?"
He was referring to the comments that he made on Anna Faris' podcast and I nodded my head.
"Everyone heard about that," I teased.
He chuckled, but didn't deny it as I leaned forward to rest on my hands. The wetness between my legs felt cool from the air in the room and I suddenly felt very exposed, knowing what the view must look like from his position. Again, my worries were brief though as his hands settled on my ass, kneading and squeezing as he let out a low groan.
"With an ass like this though, can you blame me?" He asked, sliding the fingers of one hand down towards the part of me that was practically throbbing with need. My head fell forward as he gently brushed over my clit before sinking two fingers inside me. It wasn't enough, not after the stretch of his cock, but he moved them with almost criminal precision against a spot that made me tense as I moaned with pleasure. "You've been drivin' me wild ever since that night we met. Those black jeans were so tight, it was like you were poured into 'em."
His words were muttered low and quiet and as much as I appreciated the compliment, I was such a puddle of mush from the movement of his fingers that I couldn't string together a sentence in response. He kept talking, whispering words of encouragement and adoration and it only added to my pleasure, but it wasn't until his thumb pressed against my clit that I felt myself start to bubble over. With a cry that I hoped served as a warning of my impending climax, I arched my back to press myself further towards him.
"Atta girl, Winnie..."
His breath was hot against the cheek of my ass and he continued his actions, placing a soft kiss on my skin. I was close, so close, but just not quite there until he did something that surprised me and sank his teeth into the spot his mouth was resting on. It wasn't enough to break the skin, but it was enough to leave a mark and it was definitely enough to send me over the edge. Moaning out his name again as I pressed back towards him, I felt myself quivering around his fingers as the pleasure tore through my body.
My elbows were quaking with effort as they tried to hold me up while he kept his fingers gently working until my orgasm came to an end. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, but I knew I wanted him inside me again so I shot him a look over my shoulder.
"Chris," I panted. "Fuck me, please."
His eyes darkened at my request, but he wasted no time, quickly shifting until he was positioned behind me and sliding himself back inside. He felt even bigger in our new position and his need was made clear as his hands settled on my hips to use them as leverage, thrusting into me at a much more frantic pace than he had before.
The stretch and feel of him deep inside me had me moaning and arching my back once again, but I was doubtful that I would reach another peak - until Chris slid one of his hands from my hip, over my stomach and back down to my clit. The sensation combined with his movements and all the noises pouring from his mouth had a tightness in my stomach forming again with shocking speed. It was just shy of overwhelming as my two previous orgasms had left me feeling rather sensitive already, but when Chris picked up the pace even more, his grunts and groans getting more desperate, I leaned into the sensation. It only took a minute or two more before he finally pressed himself deep inside me, stilling as he let out a low moan and I followed him over the edge once more.
After a few final thrusts through his release, Chris leaned forward to press his chest against my back. I could feel how hard he was breathing and soaked in the moment of bliss until my arms finally gave out underneath me. We landed in a heap face down on the bed, but Chris quickly rolled off of me before pulling me tight against his side.
"Wow," he breathed out. "Winnie, that was...wow."
I smiled as I rested my head on his chest.
"It was," I agreed. "I take back any doubts about your abilities."
He chuckled and placed a soft kiss on the top of my head.
"Thanks," he smiled as I peered up at him until he let a yawn slip out. "Mind if I stay here tonight?"
His question made my own smile widen even more.
"Of course not!"
He breathed out a sigh of relief at my words as I felt a wave of reassurance myself. He wanted to stay. He wasn't about to rush out the door the moment we were done and I filed that information away as more evidence that we were on the same page.
I felt like I should get up - to use the bathroom and offer my guest some water - but our activities had my whole body feeling like jelly. I was vaguely aware of a mumbled 'goodnight' from Chris, but I found myself drifting off to sleep before I could even respond.
-
The next morning as I slowly woke up, it took me a moment to remember why I was naked and why there was a pleasant, but very noticeable ache between my thighs. As the memory came back to me, a smile slid onto my face, but when I rolled over to find the bed empty, a flicker of worry sparked in the pit of my stomach. Especially when a glance at the clock told me that it was only seven in the morning. We couldn't have fallen asleep much before one so there was no good reason for him to be out of bed already.
I called out his name, hopeful that he would respond, but I wasn't entirely surprised when he didn't. The dread I was feeling intensified at the silence around me and I dragged myself out of bed with the intention of checking if he was in the bathroom or perhaps back out on the balcony. However, the sight of what was on the floor, or more accurately what wasn’t on the floor, made me pause. My dress and panties were laying where they'd been tossed, but his clothes were no where to be seen.
Trying to keep a level head, I quickly pulled on the oversized shirt that I usually slept in and ventured out of my bedroom, but my fears were quickly confirmed. My apartment was empty.
At first, I gave him the benefit of the doubt as I desperately tried to rationalize his disappearance. Maybe he woke up early and went out to get us breakfast and coffee? The dull throbbing in my head told me that I could certainly use a good shot of caffeine and it was a pretty safe bet that he was feeling the same. But, when he didn't return after half an hour, I assumed that theory was just an optimistic wish.
After forty-five minutes of sitting on my couch, watching the door - willing it to open and for Chris to appear - I sent him a text. I tried to keep it low key and chill, but after another hour of staring at my phone, the words "Hey, where'd you go?" started to seem more and more desperate.
By ten o'clock with no response and no sign of Chris returning, I accepted the situation for what it was.
He wasn't coming back.
It was a drunken mistake that he clearly regretted.
We'd risked our entire relationship for one night of wonderful, incredible, but meaningless sex and he didn't even have the guts to stick around long enough to talk to me about it.
One stupid night and I'd lost one of my best friends.
The thought brought tears to my eyes and, before I could stop myself, I was blubbering like a baby as I curled up on my couch. I was devastated and heartbroken. I'd let myself believe that maybe he wanted me the same way that I wanted him because we were so close and I never would have imagined that he would let it go that far just to ditch me in the morning without even a goodbye. Surely, after a year of such strong friendship, I deserved more than that.
But no matter how stupid and naive I felt in that moment, nothing would compare to the level of utter foolishness I felt later that day when I was tiding up and realized that there wasn't a condom in sight.
-
Part Two
Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces
#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans smut#chris evans fanfic#chris evans fic#chris evans one shot#once bitten/more hearts
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I missed you, Doll
Prompt number: 13 “I missed this”
Fandom: Marvel
Paring: 40s!Bucky Barnes x reader
Rating: G
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, spinsters, and
A/N: Like always, I procrastinated so this isn’t really up to my standards. I really wanted to use a lot more 40s slang but I was running out of time. Either way, first time writing for 40s Bucky, and Bucky in general, but I absolutely love 40s Bucky. Also slight AU I suppose since Hydra and the serum don’t exist in this story.
Growing up being best friends with Steve and Bucky caused many in the neighborhood to look down upon you, the older women in the neighborhood found it unbecoming that a young lady was spending her time with boys. Their distaste for you only seemed to grow when you started to wear trousers in your teenage years, that way you could keep up with Bucky and you could move around easier to defend Steve. Now in your early twenties your neighbors consider you to be a spinster.
You were about to practically beg Stevie to marry you, your parents would never approve but at least that way they would get off your back, but they arranged for you to marry a man fresh out of the army. His name is Bernard, he’s in his early forties and with just a few chaperoned dates you could tell he had an alcohol problem, a souse. He made it very clear that he didn’t like pants on a lady and if you ever wanted a proposal from him that you would have to wear skirts and dresses only. Your parents heard the ultimatum and burned every pair of trousers in your possession, leaving you with no other option than the flowy garments. After your parents forced you to say yes to his proposal Bernard forbade you from seeing Steve, your best friend and last connection to Bucky.
Every night you would cry yourself to sleep to the picture of Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, the edges frayed from how often you clutched it. The picture was never far from your reach, always keeping it by your side tucked into a pocket of your handbag. Bernard didn’t know of the photo and neither did your parents, Bucky would send your letters to Steve’s apartment knowing they wouldn’t be intercepted by your overbearing parents that way.
Bucky Barnes was a dream boat, he had women practically throwing themselves at his feet, even the married women. He would flirt with you constantly, but he flirted with every woman so you didn’t let it get to your head, especially when he started to date Dot before he was deployed. Much like every other woman you fell for Bucky and his charm, especially the caring side only you and Steve saw first hand. You had hoped that over the years his feelings would grow to match your own, but he never seemed to want to settle down, especially with you.
Your father is throwing a party today, one where he officially announces to your relatives that you're engaged to Bernard and to be married by the end of the year. You can’t help but hide in a quiet corner and cry, you imagined this day since you were a child and none of it was how you imagined. Your father wasn’t announcing your engagement to Bucky, Steve by his side- he wasn’t even invited to the party. And neither was Rebecca Barnes, your best friend besides the boys and practically your sister.
A knock on the door pulls you away from your silent tears, figuring it’s another guest for your party. You stand and flatten your blue dress with white polka dots and wipe your eyes with your gloved fingers, before faking a smile and opening the door. The figure on the other side of said door is the last person you ever expected to see again. Standing before you in all his glory is Bucky still in uniform, he looks stronger and even more handsome than when he left almost a year ago.
Before you can say anything he swoops you into a hug, lifting you from the ground and spinning you around happily. When he sets you back on your feet he keeps his arms wrapped firmly around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You bury your own face into his strong shoulder, trying not to shake and alert him to the tears falling from your eyes.
“I missed this,” he murmurs into your hair, strong arms pulling you impossibly closer to him. “I missed you, doll.”
“I missed you too, Bucky,�� your voice breaks, Bucky tries to pull away to see what’s wrong when he hears this. But you won’t let him. You just want a few more moments of bliss before you're never allowed to see him or be in his arms again.
“You stopped writing to me doll, why?” hurt laces his voice, causing your shoulders to shake as tears stream harder and faster. This time Bucky successfully pulls away slightly, right hand reaching up to caress your face, his calloused thumb wiping the tears away as they fall. “Steve and Rebecca both told me I needed to come see for myself when they picked me up from the station earlier. But you look fine, beautiful even, even if you aren’t in trousers. I wrote to you last month hoping you’d be there to pick me up.
“(Y/N), sweetheart, who’s at the door?” before you can tell Bucky of the new developments, Bernard’s voice pulls you away from Bucky. You take a giant step away from the man you love, his face falls as his hand slips from your cheek, you look at the ground in hopes to calm your nerves and stop your tears.
“Who are you?” there’s malice in Bucky’s voice as Bernard rounds the corner and into the front room with you and Bucky.
“I’m Bernard, (Y/N)’s future husband,” Bernard glares up at Bucky, turning to you and kissing you on the cheek, the stench of alcohol rolling off of him in waves. You try to pull away from his chapped lips but his arm snakes around your waist to keep you close, hand too close to your rear for your liking. “Who are you?”
“Sergeant James Barnes,” Bucky straightens his back and squares his shoulders, towering over Bernard in hopes to intimidate the older man. “I’m (Y/N)’s best friend and I was hoping to speak with her, seeing as how I just got home.”
“Seeing as she’s promised to me,” you let out a yelp as Bernard’s fingers dig painfully into your hip bone. “I’m afraid that’s inappropriate and I cannot allow it.”
“(Y/N) who’s at the door?” you father calls, too busy squirming trying to get out of Bernard’s hold you don’t answer him. He soon rounds the corner, eyes widening as he sees who's at the door.
“Mr. (Y/L/N),” Bucky’s voice is strained as he glares at your father, his face softens as he turns to look at you. “Doll, tell me he’s treating you well and I’ll be on my way.”
“He’s not,” Bernard's grip so tightly you're surprised he hasn’t broken your bone or his fingers. “I can’t marry him Bucky, I tried to say no. No to marrying him, no to going on dates, but they forced me to.”
Bucky’s jaw ticks as he grinds his teeth down hard. He reaches forward, roughly grabbing Bernard’s hand and removing it from your waist, and gently pulling you into his arms. The sergeant’s deadly glare leaves Bernard and lands on your father.
“You knew of my intentions with your daughter,” you know he’s fighting to keep his voice low so as not to alert the guests in the other rooms of the house. “And you still tried to arrange her to marry someone else while I was gone?”
“What are you talking about,” you rest your hand on Bucky’s chest as you stare hopefully into his crystal blue eyes.
“I would like to know that too,” Bernard glares at both men in the room.
“Before I left,” Bucky pushes a stray hair away from your eyes, talking to you as if you're the only in the room with him. “I made my intentions clear to your father that when I got home, if you’d have me that is, I wanted to marry you.”
“You do?” tears start to well up in your eyes, but for the first time in a long time they’re happy tears. Bucky nods, calloused thumb caressing your cheek again. “What about Dot? You two seemed to be going steady before you left.”
“She was in love with her milkman, and I was in love with you,” Bucky rests his forehead on yours. “I wanted to keep it a secret, ask you to marry me in person. But I couldn't wait any longer so I asked you in a letter, but then you stopped responding and I was worried I scared you off.”
“You could never scare me off Buck,” your hands slide up his chest and into the short strands of his chestnut hair. “I love you too much for that. Why else would I put up with you all these years?”
For the second time today, Bucky lifts you off your feet and twirls you around. “You’re making me the happiest man alive,” Bucky murmurs as he sets your giggling self down. “So doll, (Y/N), the love of my life, my best friend, would you put me out of my misery and be my wife?”
Bucky drops to his knee and pulls out the ring Steve brought to the station with him earlier, the ring Bucky bought for you before being shipped off, the ring that he wanted to give you before he left but he didn’t have your father’s permission. The diamond glints on the rays of sunlight streaming in from the picture window in the room. “Yes! Yes, of course!” you nod happily, and Bucky grins up at you as he slides the ring on your finger- it’s a perfect fit.
You can hear the protests from Bernard and your father behind you, but both you and Bucky choose to ignore them. You don’t care about what either of them have to say, all you care about is the future you’ll finally get to have with Bucky, the man you’ve always loved. Bucky stands up and pulls you in for a searing kiss, your first ever kiss. Sparks shoot from your lips down to your toes, causing them to curl in pleasure. It’s a kiss you’ll remember for a lifetime, one you'll tell your children and grandchildren about. And there was no one you’d rather share it with than one James Buchanan Barnes.
Permeant tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny
#bucky barnes x reader#fictober20#fictober day 2#fictober#fictober 2020#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#40s!bucky#40s!bucky x reader#40s!bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes one shot#bucky fanfiction#bucky imagine#bucky one shot#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel one shot#marvel fanfiction#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#james buchanan bucky barnes
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@dollsome-does-tumblr does this and opened it up to anyone and I am feeling chatty today SO!
Because I co-write a lot with my lovely wife, I might answer some questions including those co-written stories, or I might not, depends on how I feel when I get there.
name:
Megan but I go by Lentils most places on the internet, Shadowcrawler over on AO3
fandoms:
at the moment: MCU, especially Agents of SHIELD and Daredevil; Terminator: Dark Fate; Halt and Catch Fire. Oh and I wrote Dollhouse fanfics a thousand years ago. Sometimes I will watch a movie/show and think “those two girls should be gay” and bang out 2k of fic about it and then never write for that fandom again. (I THOUGHT this was going to be HACF but as it turns out, no, it’s not done with me yet.)
where you post:
AO3, at Shadowcrawler. I also have a tumblr @lentils-writes where theoretically I post links to fics/advertise them in the tags, because I used to be real precious about not putting porn on this blog, but fuck it.
most popular multi-chapter fic:
Co-written, it’s definitely mallverse, which is I think the reason most writers definitely hate us because it’s very long and there are a lot of tags lmao. The problem is that every tagged character HAS shown up in a significant fashion at some point so we can’t just...untag them! It doesn’t update weekly anymore because we’re exhausted by life lmao so at least there’s that???
As for a multi-chapter fic that was just me, I don’t tend to do that so much, so actually it’s say you will, my 3-chapter Endgame fix-it where Clint dies instead of Natasha and Natasha and Laura have a past. It actually has over 1000 hits which is very exciting! I feel like it’s...niche in a way that is frustrating but understandable lol. I put a lot of my heart into it and some people really liked it, so that’s gratifying.
favorite story you’ve written so far:
Co-written, I think our SHIELD Dollhouse AU is very underrated for the amount of work we put into it. Author bias evident here because I love Dollhouse warts and all, and it’s a lot of fun translating episode plots as well as the general trajectory of the show into stuff that will work with SHIELD characters. We don’t just rewrite episodes, we really try and rework them as needed. Also it features both Skimmons and my beloved rarepair Bobbi/Kara, though of course they won’t get together until later.
Of my own stuff, I’m still really really proud of the AU where Kara Palamas didn’t die. I think that was a pretty severe misstep of the show and I think I did a good job of fixing it. (I haven’t forgotten Kara, promise!)
fic you were nervous to post:
lolololol I wrote some uh. Terminator pornography last year and. They are very porny! I had co-written a bunch of smut obviously, but that was the first time I’d posted like, PWP all by myself on purpose??? and that was TERRIFYING. Also I was very nervous to post the Engame fix-it because that was my own personal goodbye/tribute to Natasha.
how you choose your titles:
They are always either song lyrics or jokes (such as Three Lawyers and a Baby, my Daredevil Accidental Baby Acquisition fic). My WIP docs are always titled either obvious shit like “RoseJannah horse girls” or memes like “what if we belonged to a fire cult and we fucked haha just kidding unless...?” or “Morgan has two mommies.”
do you outline?:
B and I typically outline for the co-written fics, although it’s more often chapter-by-chapter outlines since that’s how we write them. On occasion we’ve fully planned multi-chapter stuff out in advance but that’s less common. Oh and the one-shots are nearly always outlined as well, just to keep ourselves organized.
When I have written planned multi-chapter fics in the past I have used outlines - particularly for the Kara one and I had to do that for the SHIELD Kill Bill AU because I was trying to follow the format of the movie. For things that are allegedly supposed to be one-shots I almost never outline, which turns out to be a terrible idea when they inevitably balloon beyond my control and become 45k like say you will. That one, I wrote out a list of scenes I thought needed to be in it and then I wrote about 75% of those scenes and then I wrote a bunch more scenes I hadn’t planned for. Don’t be like me, kids!
complete fics:
According to AO3, 89 as of right now. Uh, you do not want me to list all of them, here’s a link, I guess!
in progress:
I don’t understand what the difference is between this question and the WIP questions lmao help????
posted WIPs that I have active plans to continue at this time:
Cowritten: mallverse as I said, and its femslash smut oneshots spinoff and character flashbacks spinoff and older characters/teachers spinoff (these get updated, uh, irregularly), the first half of a Piper/Snowflake SHIELD s7 fic that we are planning on finishing the second half of soonish, SHIELD Dollhouse AU, SHIELD Teen Beach AU, SHIELD Buffy AU. You may notice a pattern!
By myself, I have: Have Your Elf a Merry Little Christmas, a Terminator Hallmark Christmas fic that I ambitiously posted the first chapter of in 2019 and then lost steam immediately (I am going to go back to it sooner or later bc I had some cute ideas for it); the SHIELD Fate of the Furious AU that has one chapter to go and which I do intend on finishing eventually; Three Lawyers and a Little Lady, the Daredevil Accidentally Baby Acquisition AU that is literally just cute kidfic and poly avocados and which I have a bunch of ideas for and just need to buckle down and finish some.
posted WIPs that I have given up on:
Lol so there’s a Dollhouse Caroline/Bennett Doctor Who AU that I wrote purely as idfic and which nobody ever cared about except me, and I think that ship has sailed! RIP darlings. I also had an ongoing Skimmons series waaaay back when where I posted oneshots that were like missing scenes or gay readings for each s1 episode, and I just feel like it would be inauthentic to even try and finish it at this point. (It does include the first ever Skimmons fic to be posted on AO3! Really truly, there’s one fic that shows up as older but it’s an ongoing fic and was updated with the tag way after I posted mine.)
exchange fics due soon/unrevealed:
I haven’t done an exchange since like 2015 lololol I am so bad at them. I am currently working on finishing up my MCU Femslash bingo card, very late, and I do have plans for almost all of the remaining squares!
WIPs that live in my fanfic folder and are incomplete and who knows when they’ll be finished:
“RoseJannah horse girls,” which has been put on hold temporarily but is literally just Rose and Jannah being gay while riding orbaks
half of a Daisy/Gwen fic from Marvel Rising because I know they’re not making any more of those but I stg those two were really gay
multiple fics about Elise Nelson-Page including: avocados Halloween with smol Elise, Aunt Elektra very reluctantly taking smol Elise shopping until she realizes smol Elise also likes weapons (she buys her a fake katana), Uncle Frank is a pushover and spoils the shit out of Elise, and baby Elise has a high fever and everyone freaks out but then she gets better and smile at them for the first time (inspired by baby me lol).
coming soon/not yet started:
“Morgan has two mommies,” yet another Endgame fix-it where Maya Hansen did not die in Iron Man 3 and she resurfaces and she and Pepper kiss and eventually she adopts Morgan
Claire and Colleen go on a nice date to get coffee/tea where Danny doesn’t interrupt them goddammit
Bobbi/Kara Warehouse 13 AU which is sort of like “For the Team” but gayer ft. grappling hook
X-Men: Evolution Tabby/Amara fluff
Cameron/Donna character study disguised as smut
Grace proposes to Dani with a ring made out of the metal from her power source and Carl officiates the wedding
Dani gets horny watching Grace eat a peach and jerks off and Grace ends up hearing her and then they fuck (I have been calling this “the peach fic” in my head but I gotta stop being delicate about it lmfao it is just porn)
B and I have plans to do a Nico/Karolina Jasper in Deadland AU but we keep forgetting
I MUST WRITE FOGGY AND KAREN SADLY FUCKING IN A CHURCH WHILE THEY MOURN MATT THIS YEAR I STG
do you accept prompts:
uhhhhhh I have on occasion written a prompt for someone before but it’s pretty rare and I have enough trouble writing the shit I come up with in my own head lol. but never say never?
upcoming story you are most excited to write:
I’ve got a bit of the Bobbi/Kara Warehouse fic written and it’s nice to go back to that world. Also I’m weirdly excited about the Cam/Donna smutty character study I mentioned above, I have a lot of what I think are good ideas for it and it’ll be fun.
tagging @unwind-myself @swiftzeldas @swashbucklery @loved-the-stars-too-fondly and, if you want to, you!
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This is my first ever fanfic, I wrote it for @the--sad--hatter Weird and Wonderful writing challenge. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it 😊
Strange and Unusual (Loki x Reader)
Fandom: Marvel, MCU
Pairing: Loki x Reader
Warnings: None :)
Summary: Loki meets the newest member of the Avengers. Thor describes her as "strange even for a mortal" which of course piques Loki's interest.
It started out as what seemed like an ordinary day, Loki groaned at the thought of putting up with the blundering idiots that called themselves "the Avengers". A meeting had been called to introduce a new member of the team and ALL in the tower were strongly encouraged to attend. Loki was slightly curious as he had only heard that this new member was not like most mortals, making her a mystery to him. Before they filed in he had already found a wall to lean against, which gave him the advantage of seeing without feeling like he was being smothered: after all he did like his personal space.
Y/N was nervous as this would be the first time she officially met the Avengers and she was meeting them all at once. Fury said it would make for an easier transition for everyone, but that didn't help her anxiety. When she walked in the room it appeared to be empty so she took a moment to calm herself by singing her favorite song softly under her breath, and took deep calming breaths.
Loki watched quietly as the stunning woman walked in. He soon heard her beautiful voice softly drifting his way, singing a soft unfamiliar song, but it seemed to ease some of the visible tension in her shoulders. He watched her intently trying to figure out who she was but not wanting to startle her, or to stop her beautiful singing. He was drawn in by her beauty and voice and couldn't stop watching her.
Just as Loki was about to make himself known and ask her who she was, someone just outside the door got her attention and asked her to follow them to Fury. Y/N walked back out of the room without even knowing Loki was standing there.
As she walked away Loki couldn't help but stare at where she had been standing. He was brought back to his senses when he heard the others walking down the hall to the meeting room: the room he was currently in. He braced himself for the onslaught of loud voices and annoying people.
Fury walked to the front of the room once everyone had walked in the room and settled in their chairs, except Loki who always insisted on standing away from everyone else. When he first refused to sit Fury would try to persuade him to join them, but eventually realized he was just wasting his breath so he let Loki be. Fury cleared his throat to get everyone's attention focused on him.
"We have a new member joining the team and you will treat her with respect." Fury said, glaring at everyone, but especially Loki.
Loki fought the urge to roll his eyes at Fury’s remark and instead, directed a glare at him. Obviously he would treat this new member with all the respect she deserved. Besides not only had he not met this girl but, he didn’t know how she felt about him after New York. Even though he tried to tell the Avengers that he was being controlled, they didn’t believe him, so he showed them the same indifference they showed him. He didn’t hate any of them, not really, Loki just treated him the way they did him.
As Fury finished talking he motioned for Y/N to come forward and join him at the front of the room.
“This is Y/N. I’m sure Stark will have a nickname picked out for her soon.” Fury glared at Tony, “Don’t annoy her or I won’t be held responsible for her reaction.”
Loki had started to let his mind wander until Y/N walked past him towards the front of the room. He caught his breath as he realized it was the same beautiful woman with the beautiful voice that had been in the room earlier. Loki sincerely hoped she was as sweet as her face and voice suggested, and not like the rest of them, judging without knowing or believing the full story. He found himself wondering just what her powers or skills were that led her to join the Avengers and that made his oaf of a big brother comment about her not being like “most normal mortals”.
Y/N shyly glanced around the table at the Avengers and said hello to everyone. She thanked them for letting her join the team, promising to be a good asset and addition to the team, while also silently promising herself to try and not let her anxiety get the best of her especially on a mission. Proper introductions were made and she felt herself being somewhat drawn to Loki, although she couldn’t explain why especially since they didn’t know each other. Y/N also felt like someone was watching her and when she subtly glanced around she realized it was Loki, so she smiled at him on her way towards him.
Loki saw her coming his way and couldn’t decide if he should stay and talk to her, or leave the room and let everyone else get to know her first. Before he could make up his mind either way Thor made it up for him by asking him to come away and discuss some boring thing. Well Loki assumed it boring anyway, since it dragged him away from properly meeting Y/N. When they had gotten away from the others Thor felt it his duty to remind Loki to ‘Play nice and try to befriend the strange mortal’.
Loki started to ask why he called Y/N strange but was interrupted by Bruce, or ‘Jolly Green’ as Stark referred to him, pulling Thor away to discuss something. Loki wasn’t sure what it was, nor did he really care. With his brother walking away Loki headed to the Library to read.
Y/N had wandered the halls in an effort to get away from the large crowd of people in the meeting room and found herself quietly singing in the Library, looking for a good book to read. She heard someone walking towards the Library and switched from singing to humming so low only she could hear it. She was always self conscious about her looks and her voice so she tried not to let others hear her when she sang. She was suddenly aware of a new yet calming presence behind her, and felt a pair of eyes watching her.
Loki slowed down when he heard Y/N singing softly and sweetly in the Library. When she abruptly stopped he assumed she had sensed his presence and just didn’t want him to hear her. He walked into the Library and began to browse the shelves while trying to decipher where the soft humming noise was coming from. As he rounded a corner he saw Y/N and realized she hadn’t stopped the song, just started humming it very softly. Loki leaned against the shelf watching and listening to her for a moment before she stopped and turned toward him.
Y/N stopped humming and turned to the presence that apparently belonged to the one and only Loki. Though why she found his presence calming she wasn’t sure. One thing she knew for sure was she hadn’t had the chance to properly introduce herself. She extended her hand
“Loki, right? I’m Y/N, I don’t believe we’ve properly met yet.”
Loki was slightly shocked at the extended hand but shook it anyway.
“Y/N nice to properly meet you. I must say you have a beautiful voice. Why did you stop singing?”
Y/N shrugged “It’s not that good and most people seem annoyed when I sing, so I tend to keep to myself.”
Loki was shocked to say the least. “Petty mortals who don’t have any talent of their own will always belittle someone with extraordinary talent and beauty because they are jealous.”
Y/N blushed, “I’m not that beautiful Loki and you’ve just met me how do you know I’m not merely a “petty mortal” as well?”
Loki smiled, “I tend to be able to read people darling, It’s a gift and a curse. You are special, I can tell I’m just not sure why besides your obvious humility. Also my big brother may be an oaf but if he says someone is “strange” according to mortal standards and even to himself. Call me crazy but I tend to pay attention, not to mention be quite curious.”
Y/N looked slightly confused, “Thor said I was strange? This coming from the God of Thunder. What idea’s you must have had about me and how I would look and behave.”
Loki chuckled lightly, “No more than the ideas you’ve had about me after New York I’m sure.”
Y/N looked at him, “The others told me you tried to tell them it was mind control but they don’t believe you. However I like to form my own opinions of others AFTER I’ve met them. Which is exactly what I told them.”
Loki tried to control the shocked look on his face. “No wonder my brother called you strange. No offense of course, it’s just most mortals hear the words Loki and New York and run for cover.”
Y/N smiled for the first time, “Or slap like you like Jane did.”
Loki rubbed his cheek with that memory, “Yes, let me tell you that little lady can slap very hard.”
Y/N laughed, “So I’ve heard. Anyway you’ve been here for a while, any good books to read or should I look elsewhere?”
Loki smiled, “Depends on what kind of book you’re looking for. If you don’t mind me asking what exactly are your powers or skills you bring to the team?”
Y/N looked down at the floor, “It’s nothing special really. I have a little ice magic and I’m also an empath.”
Loki looks genuinely shocked, “Nothing special?? Y/N do you realize how few beings mortal or otherwise possess ice magic? While also being an empath?”
Y/N looked up at Loki, “I’m guessing not many?”
Loki looked at her in wonder, “Not many indeed dear mortal. I have magic and am Jotun yet I cannot control ice.”
Y/N shrugged, “I’ve always been told I’m strange and unusual.”
Loki looked around to make sure they were alone. His illusion shimmered away as he spoke, “I, myself, am rather strange and unusual.”
When his illusion faded he was standing in his true Jotun form. Beautiful blue skin with intricate lines along his skin and captivating red eyes. Loki’s gaze went downward to the floor.
Y/N walked closer to him and raised his head looking him directly in his eyes as she spoke. “You have the most beautiful skin and wonderful eyes I have ever seen Loki. Never feel ashamed of being different, it makes you who you are.”
Loki reached out to touch her face. “I should say the same to you dear mortal. You have the voice of a Goddess and the beauty to match, both inside and out. From the first time you walked in the meeting room singing I was captivated by you.”
Y/N could tell he was sincere in his statement. Smiling she leaned closer and brushed her lips against his still blue lips. Neither of them noticed Tony walk to the Library until after they broke the kiss staring into each others eyes.
Tony was taken back for a moment by Loki’s Jotun form. Then he cleared his throat to get their attention and let them know he was there. “About time I found you two it’s time for supper we ordered pizza.”
Y/N threw a harmless ice dagger that missed Tony entirely but he got the hint.
Tony huffed, “Alright Elsa I’ll leave you and the Smurf alone, but I can’t guarantee there will be any Pizza left. You know super soldiers and God’s can pack food away.” Having made his comment he left.
Loki smiled at Y/N and reluctantly let go off her chin while putting his illusion back in place. “I guess we best join them before Stark lets them eat everything.”
Y/N smiled, “I do quite like pizza.”
The two of them walked hand in hand down the hall and joined the others in the dining room.
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clean -- prologue
a/n: as promised here is the prologue, chapter 1 will be posted next Sunday and this is going to update on Sunday, hope you guys enjoy this summer journey :)
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The traditional summer break of an average american school is one hundred and four days. One hundred and four days of summer, less romantic than five hundred but still something. But that's for teenagers, adults don’t get off during the summer and if the calendar is to be believed there are only three months of summer which means ninety days. Ninety days of summer, sixteen weeks, three months, all the time anyone has until it comes again next year. Summer is the time for new experiences, good times, the feeling of the sun on your skin and the feeling that anything is possible. Some people think that summer has its own kind of magic, and the reason why it's in the middle of the year is to remind us to keep going, if only for the knowledge that it’ll come again next year.
Or maybe none of this is true, maybe summer has no magic- or maybe it’s not the season but the people we meet during those days.
You were not thinking about any of this as you walked down the sidewalk towards the Olympic Park. You were thinking about what you had to do when you got back to work, and debating if you should’ve left in the first place. In the year that you had worked your new job you’d only taken one lunch break but it was sunny outside and you decided for the first time that you wanted to be outside. It were half of your job anyway, looking at the scenery around you and picking pieces out of it. your music filled your ears and you looked around the park, snapping a couple of quick photos on your phone for future reference. For a moment, you wished you had your full camera on her, maybe snap a couple of quick shots for the Atlanta folder but you made a note to do it next time, even if there were a next time.
You started staring at your phone again when you ran right into someone. The impact were quick and it sent your notebook tumbling towards the ground and your phone too. As your notebook hit the ground, a set of hands grabbed your phone before it followed. you grabbed the notebook quickly and sorrys tumbled out of your mouth before you stood up to meet eyes with whoever it were you ran into.
Spider Man were staring right back at her. “Oh shoot-” You shook your head to make sure you weren’t imagining it. “I just ran right into you-” You paused, and started mumbling again, “And your you.”
“I would hope so.” He smiled, and You swore he were laughing at your which admittedly were warranted by the way Youwere acting. “I believe this is yours.” He handed your your phone.
“Thank you.” You nodded, “Uh, what are you doing in Atlanta?” You paused and realized you were being weird again. “Wait that were super personal and totally none of my business considering that I just randomly ran into you-”
He laughed, “I’m shooting a movie actually. Can’t tell you what one though.”
“Oh top secret, I know it’s marvel then.” You replied, “Surprised you were able to keep that one in the bag at all.”
“You guessed, I didn’t tell you anything.” He shrugged.
“And you just confirmed it, isn’t that just as bad?” You asked him, laughing a little at the look on his face when it sunk in. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” You said as your phone began to buzz in your pocket, you glanced at it quickly and saw that it was from work. “Oh shoot-”
“Work?” He asked.
“Yeah, yeah.” You nodded, “Looks like I’ve taken one minute to long on my break.”
“What do you do?” He asked her.
“This is getting very personal for a standard sorry I ran into you conversation.” You replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Maybe it’s not standard.” He said with a smirk.
“Are you suggesting this is a meet-cute?”
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Hollywoods Heartthrob hasn’t even watched a rom-com classic? Disappointing but also surprising. This is front-page news, I’ve got to call entertainment weekly right now, maybe teen vogue they need to do a puff piece on this right now.” You pulled out your phone for a dramatic effect.
“For the record I have. I just didn’t know the term.”
“Sure.” You teased, as your phone buzzed again. “Ugh, the one time I go out that’s when they need me.”
“So are you going to tell me what you do or-?”
“Photojournalist.” You said quickly. “I work up there-” You pointed up at the building behind them and his face moved into surprise when he read the logo on the building.
“I’m officially worried now. If I see a headline about the meet-cute thing I will know who to blame.” He smiled, half teasing but you could tell that he wasn’t one hundred percent sure.
“Emphasis on the photo before the journalist. It’s all about the shots and not about the scoops.” You told him.
“How long have you been sitting on that one?”
“Longer than you would think. I was waiting to use it on my parents at Thanksgiving.” your phone buzzed again and the screen showed a count of fifteen text messages. “Well this has been fun but I really have to go-” You smiled and started to walk off but something stopped her. You couldn’t tell what it was but something stopped you in your tracks, You turned around and became aware of the sun on your face. It wasn’t the sun that made your turn back around and give him your number, that was something You knew for sure, but then again you couldn’t quite explain what possessed you to do it.
But you pulled your card out of your pocket and wrote your cell phone on the back. “Here.” You breathed your heat almost beating out of your chest. “In case you need a media contact.”
“Media Contact?” You heard him say before You speed-walked off. You almost ran back to work and were out of breath when you made it back to your desk.
Cary was already sitting in your desk chair when you made it back. The other woman spun around in the chair dramatically and smiled when she saw. “Well well well, she’s back,” She said in her patented Irish accent. Cary had been born in the US but moved to the UK when she was five, then moved back to go to college and stayed. “What took you so long on what I believe is your first lunch break ever?”
“Haha very funny. For the record, it’s my second. Now get out of my chair.” You made a motion for Cary to move, and Cary got up dramatically. “Shouldn’t you be on your home turf with what did you call them, your people? The actual writers?”
“You know I’ll always have a soft spot in my heart for you, love. You're my favorite camera nerd.” She joked, “Now what took you so long? I requested you as my photographer for my new assignment.”
“You're never gonna guess who I ran into today.”
#tom holland#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland x oc#tom holland fic#tom holland imagine#tom holland fanfic#gabby writes
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Kitten Peter! ch. 2
Go here for the plot bunny that started it all: clickbait
Go here for the actual first chapter I wrote for the plot bunny: more clickbait
Go here for the Ao3 link: how can there be even more clickbait
Okay, let’s start this. As with all the other stories, EVERYONE that comments on any of the parts, get’s automatically put down in the tags. If you don’t want to be tagged for this or future parts, (but still want to comment, in which case: bless you), just write “no tag, please.” Or contact me via messaging here. I completely understand if you want to keep your notifications as clear as possible.
Despite the many, many promises that he was not about to have a mental breakdown because his ex was coming back, Pepper had herded Tony (and Peter) out of the lab and into his living room. Then the fiery redhead had made him something to eat. A very poor attempt at fried vegetables with rice, that the billionaire had forced down his throat through pure will power. The woman was a great friend, a fantastic assistant and a marvelous CEO, but she could barely boil water.
Not that Tony would ever tell her that.
As he chewed his way through the mushy rice and cotton like broccoli (how did you even get vegetables to take on this kind of texture?), he couldn't help but envy Peter. The little kitten was happily munching on his chef cooked, kitty appropriate, fish dinner.
It had taken another hour after that to make the woman believe that he really was okay, before Pepper had finally left for the night. With the sudden absence of someone inquiring if he really was alright, Tony found himself asking the very same question.
Was he okay?
The feeling of tiny claws digging into his pant leg diverted his attention momentarily to the tiny brown kitten scrambling up into his lap.
"You realize these pants cost 900$, right? And here you are, poking them full of tiny holes and spreading your hair all over my general wardrobe."
Contrary to his words, he immediately scratched Peter's head once the kitten had made his way up and into his favorite spot.
"We are going to get some visitors tomorrow, Petey. This tower was actually not always this empty, you know? I mean besides the business departments and all the other S.I. staff."
Peter was apparently not finished with climbing his human, and proceeded to scale up the inventor's shirt. Tony kept a careful hand underneath his kitten, content to let Peter climb up on his own, but ready to catch him should he slip.
"They used to live here, you know? The Avengers. Earth's mightiest heroes. I was one of them. AM one of them, but you know this. You have seen my suit. I'm Iron Man, and therefore the best, right?"
Peter had made it up to Tony's chin and was rubbing his little body affectionately along his beard and cheek. Tony smiled.
"Right. Anyway, the rest of the team has been away for some time... I think they left about two weeks before I found you, and they are coming back tomorrow and I... I don't know how I feel about that."
He sighed deeply, as if finally admitting that part to himself, after having spent the last few hours denying any negative thoughts to Pepper.
Peter settled himself on his right shoulder and rubbed his head against the skin on his neck, letting out a tiny mewl that sounded almost prompting.
"It's not that I don't want them to come back. They are my friends, and I actually like having them around. Even Barton, and that guy is a menace, I tell you. If he tries kidnapping you into the vents, you go ahead and scratch up his stupid face, got it?"
He ran his fingers over Peter's small back, and the kitten started purring. Tony relaxed.
"You will like them. There is Rhodey, who is my best friend, actually. I met him in college and he... well, he has been looking out for me ever since. He is also an Air Force Colonel and probably the most level headed of all of us. He has a suit that is almost as cool as mine, but he buckled under the peer pressure and gave himself the moniker of Iron Patriot, which isn't even a fraction as cool as his previous 'War Machine'. Then there is Bruce, my science bro. He is the strongest Avenger and he might even be smarter than me, but we are not gonna tell him that. He also turns into a tall, green rage monster on occasion, but he is really just a big ol' marshmallow on the inside. Clint is our modern day version of Robin Hood, just without the stealing from the rich and giving to the poor thing. ... On second thought, scratch that. He always stole my fucking coffee and then drank it himself. As if he wasn't perfectly capable of brewing his own. So, yeah. Modern day Robin Hood with less altruistic intentions and only marginally better fashion sense. I'm not sure if Thor is on earth right now, so he might not make an appearance tomorrow. If he does, try not to climb him, okay? I know he is easily confused with a tree, and his stupid cape is probably a very big temptation for your little claws. But you just never know when that big lug decides to twirl his glorified hammer and light up like it's the fourth of July. And if Thor electrocutes my little Petey-Pie, I'm gonna blast his head off, Asgardian royalty or not. So we better avoid that and don't go climbing up any aliens, okay? Trust me, it's not worth it. His beard doesn't hold a candle to mine."
On cue, Peter rubbed his head against the billionaire's bearded chin, letting out a contented mewl.
"Natasha is a bit more difficult to describe. I'm pretty sure if Fury ever manages to clone her, he will jsut retire every other superhero and agent on the planet and fill all his mission teams with Black Widow clones and take over the world. ... Come to think of it, that's a very scary thought. Friday, remind me to hack into Shield later and see if they have any kind of cloning research in the works."
"Of course, boss."
Peter didn't startle anymore when Friday's disembodied voice sounded throughout the tower, but he had started batting his paw in the air whenever she spoke. Like he was waving hello. Tony thought it was precious.
"Anyway, Natasha is pretty badass, but I don't think you have anything to worry about. Just hit her with the eyes and she is gonna be a goner for sure."
He could actually picture Natasha stopping in the middle of kicking Clint's ass, just to give Peter a tummy rub. He would have to be vigilant from now on. He wouldn't put it past Barton and Romanoff to try and kidnap (catnap?) his little Petey. He was going to write an anti-kitty-napping code into Friday's mainframe.
"And that brings us to... to Steve."
His mood took a nose dive. There was the crux of the matter. Steve.
Peter, clever little kitty that he was, noticed the change in his human immediately, and bumped his head against Tony's cheek with a questioning meow.
"It's... complicated. Steve and I, we used to be in a relationship. Shoot, I haven't given you that particular talk yet, have I? So, when one mature cat really likes another mature cat, and they decide to have a bunch of little kittens together... wait, that's called a litter, right? Okay, so if these two cats really like each other, and are both of a consenting age, they might decide to have a litter of adorable little kittens together, you know, if one was in heat and it's like mating season... do cats have mating seasons? Actually, this comparison doesn't really work, because neither Steve nor I were trying to get each other pregnant... You know what? You are way too young for this kinda talk, mister."
He carefully took Peter into his hand and held the kitten in front of his face, so he could look directly into the big, round eyes.
"I do not want you getting any ideas of running off with any mangy, ruffian tom cat, or some little pussy hussy, that tries to lay their dirty, perverted paws on you, got it?"
Peter leaned over the rim of Tony's hand and licked him on the nose. Tony grinned.
"Okay. But we will be having a 'stranger, danger' talk later."
He then cradled the kitten in both hands and cuddled him into his chest.
"So, back to the Steve issue. We were together. As, in a relationship. All official like, with going on dates and pet names and everything. The media even had a ship name for us: Stony; which, not very original, but no one has ever accused mass media of originality, so what can you do. Anyway, Steve and I were a 'thing', and I thought we were a 'good thing', you know? I mean, we hadn't dropped the L-word yet, but we had been going steady for a pretty long time, and that was kinda a first for me, and... I liked it. Him. Us. Being an 'us' with Steve. And it was good. Comfortable. And then Barnes came back."
His hand stopped petting Peter at the memory, and the kitten softly tapped his paw against Tony's thumb. When Tony looked down, he once again couldn't stop the thought that Peter must somehow understand him, because right then, the little kitten was looking up at him with an almost too human expression of worry and sympathy. He smiled at him and resumed his petting.
"Long story short, Steve slept with Barnes and broke up with me. And, look, it's not like I don't have sympathy for the guy. The things Hydra did to him and made him do... Suddenly being free of all that and having your best friend there with you... And I understand Steve's side of things as well. Kinda. Those feelings he has for Barnes, they probably weren't anything new. But back in his time, same sex relationships weren't simply frowned upon, but downright illegal. Then there was the war and the serum and everything else... They probably never really had the time or opportunity to realize exactly what they felt for each other. And then suddenly Steve wakes up decades in the future; and everything is different and he gets put on this team of super idiots and there is fighting and aliens and more fighting and in the midst of all of this, there is the cultural shock of having just skipped like two whole generations..."
Tony had been thinking a lot about it, actually. He wasn't always honest with himself, and he wasn't always good with his emotions. It was something Rhodey had said to him a long time ago. That sometimes, in order to understand our own feelings, we had to understand the feelings of those around us.
And with Peter's calming influence, he had been thinking a lot about Barnes and Steve and himself and their relationships.
At first, fresh after the break up, Tony had just been angry. Hurt, too, but that was so much harder to face than the anger had been, and so he had settled on that instead.
After the team had left for the compound (and Tony understood that his personal relationship drama could not stand in the way of the Avengers availability for missions and their need to keep up their training regimen.), he had locked himself in his lab for three days, trying to tinker his anger and hurt away. Then Pepper had lost her patience with him and hauled the genius out of there and made him see a therapist and sleep and eat (not in that order, though).
Any protestations that he didn't need to see a shrink just because his boyfriend broke up with him, were waved away by the woman ("Someone taking care of your mental health has been long overdue.")
It hadn't helped. The therapist and the food and the sleep, non of it had helped and Tony just got angrier and angrier at his own inability to let it all fucking go. (He had missed his Iron Man suit, and being an active Avengers, but even Tony, as much as he hated to admit it, knew that he hadn't been in the right frame of mind for it)
But then had come that fateful night, where Tony had taken his therapists advice to take a peaceful, relaxing stroll around some neighborhood. It hadn't been peaceful, and it hadn't been relaxing, and Tony had been pissed all the more for it. And then he almost got shot by some two bit thug. But he didn't regret it one bit, because those were the circumstances that brought Peter into his life.
Ever since the little kitten had launched himself at Tony's almost murderer and saved the billionaire's life, things had started getting better. Having a tiny, fluffy creature to take care of and adore, had left Tony no time to dwell on his anger. Watching as the kitten explored his new home with too much enthusiasm and too little coordination, had made the man smile and laugh more in those first few days, than he had in weeks (months?).
Cuddling up with Peter anywhere and having the little fluffball purr up a storm, never failed to relax Tony and often lulled him into a deep, and thankfully dreamless, sleep. He quit going to his therapist and started taking Peter with him wherever he went. Pepper wasn't impressed the first time he showed up to a board meeting, with the kitten neatly tucked into his shirt's breast pocket. But she had quickly given in when she saw that Tony actually paid attention during the meeting, and was much more open to listening to the boards suggestions, while he was playing with Peter.
He talked to Peter all the time, about everything. S.I. business, new projects, what he thought about any particular book or movie, his robots, his suit, absolutely anything that came to mind. Aside from the Avengers. Until now.
"So, really, I get it. Those two are probably some kind of star-crossed, destined to be, once in a lifetime, lovers. And I don't even begrudge them finally being together. I just... I hate how it happened. I hate that Steve all but ignored me when Barnes came back from the dead. I hate that he slept with him while we were still an item. I hate that it made me feel like I had been a stand-in for Barnes all along. I hate that I have hardly talked to any of the team since they relocated to the compound. I hate-" He sighed. "I hate that I don't hate him. I kind of want to. I feel like that would be easier, you know?"
Peter just looked at him with his big, adorable eyes and laid his little paw on Tony's chest, right where the genius' heart was beating. Really, sometimes it felt like the kitten understood every word.
"I miss him, but not in the way one misses a significant other. I miss arguing about reading the newspaper on my tablet versus reading it on paper. I miss confusing him with pop culture references he doesn't know about. And I miss him getting on my case about spending too much time in the lab. But I'm not too hung up about all the couples' stuff. Not saying I didn't enjoy the se- wait, this isn't appropriate for young kitty ears. It's not like I didn't like our 'intimacy', but looking back on it now, I think Steve and I, we were always more of a 'friends with benefits' type of relationship, with more weight placed on the 'friends' part of the deal. Don't get me wrong, I'm still angry about Steve cheating on me like that, and how it all went down, but I think I can forgive him. I mean, obviously we will need to have it out, first. We didn't really get to the 'break up talk' before I pretty much kicked everyone out, and I guess that's partly on me. But, I want to forgive him. So, if Steve and I manage to clear the air between us, and all that sentimental stuff, ... yeah."
Peter had climbed back up to Tony's shoulder and lovingly rubbed his head against every part of his human's face he could reach. Tony laughed.
"Love you, too, Petey. You are the best kitten in the world, you know that? I will tell Vincent to make you something extra special for breakfast tomorrow."
Tony brought his hand up to massage his fingers into the soft fur, while Peter burrowed himself into the man's neck and purred until they both fell asleep.
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tbc
Okay, let me first say, I understand if people might be a bit confused over Tony's seemingly easy forgiveness here, but I hope I managed to portray that in this story, Tony and Steve's previous relationship isn't meant to be the main plot point. It's actually not even meant to be a particularly important plot point. The story's main plot is the relationship between Tony and Peter, and Peter being an adorable little ball of fluff. :-)
Also, I didn't want Tony to be completely broken up because things with Steve went south. Matter of fact is, romantic relationships sometimes don't last. They sometimes don't work out. And sometimes someone messes up. Steve cheated on Tony. That was a douche move, no question. But I didn't want to just bash his character. Steve didn't cheat on Tony because he didn't value him, or because he is just is a super asshole. These are very special circumstances, and things didn't go great, and Steve isn't perfect, and he messed up. But he didn't do it with malicious intent, and he is still a good guy, and he will try his best to repair the trust between him and Tony.
Tony is gonna get a bit of funny, petty revenge on Steve, though. With Peter's help, of course. ;-)
Sidenote: I would really like to know your opinion about Tony's aborted efforts to have 'The Talk', with kitty Peter. :-) :-) :-) I hope it was as funny to read, as it was to write!
Please tell me if tagging didn’t work, or if I forgot anyone!
TAGGING: @ theonemetorulethemalll @ sapphire-of-shield @ plueschpop @ deliciousflapbanditfarm @alanaaw88
#kitten!peter#peter is a kitten#kitty therapy#kitty daddy tony#kitty series#kitty!peter#tony stark#peter parker#could be seen as iron dad#kinda irondad#Avengers#fanfic#crack#cute#fluff#funny#mentions of cheating#past stony relationship#likely future ironstrange relationhip#op lurafita
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Not A Ghost - part 15
A/N - Multi-part fic. Colossus x OC where OC has come home after being wrongfully imprisoned in the Icebox. Warnings for whole fic - references and flashbacks to harsh prison environment, including various types of abuse. Takes place shortly after events in Deadpool 2. Whole thing will end up on my AO3 eventually.
Taglist: @emma-frxst @ra-ra-rasputiin @holamor @empressme-bitch @marvel-is-perfection @hazilyimagine @marvel-forever-17 @rovvboat @angstybadboytrash @whitewitchdown @master-sass-blast @mori-fandom @mooleche @dandyqueen . Wanna be added or removed? Holla at me.
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The first practice session with the lightbulb wasn’t a total bust, Rhonda swore to herself. She blew through a good chunk of the playlist, enjoyed a lot of the music, and had been able to make the bulb flicker with more regularity. Some of the flickers were even reasonably bright, but she couldn’t keep it steadily lit. If nothing else, the music kept her from getting too frustrated and smashing the bulb on the floor. Slipping it back in its box, Rhonda decided to call it a night before her husband came looking for her, hoping she could keep him from asking to see her progress.
Retracing their steps back toward the kitchen, Rhonda took in details about the house as if they were new--and some details were new. Old wallpaper had been replaced in some spots, mismatched but with the closest replica prints anyone could find. In some hall that had classrooms, Rhonda walked by a big glass case and had to stop.
It was her.
There was a large framed photo of her from her earliest days as official X-Men. It had been taken eleven or twelve years ago. Younger Rhonda was beaming proudly in her yellow uniform, striking a pose that was as noble and heroic as it was plain goofy. One hand was on her hip and the other straight over her head, blasting an arc of blue-green lightning, and one leg stretched in a high kick with pointed toes. Her hair was pulled back in a dyed blue-green ponytail--with bangs.
“They had to pick a picture with bangs, huh?” Rhonda muttered.
Neatly folded on a shelf under the photo was her spare uniform. The case was a memorial. The photo was flanked by plaques that told how Rhonda Reese Rasputin was “lost in the line of duty” and some poetic phrasing about knowing the cost of mutant safety and how important it is to be part of X-Men. Rhonda rolled her eyes. “Who wrote this? Fucking Scott?”
A few of her personal items were in the glass case--some black leather dance shoes, sketches Piotr had drawn of her, and a lot of photos of her with friends and students she tutored. Lots of smiles, lots of shenanigans. There was one from Halloween one year where Piotr had worn a long blonde wig, a pink dress, and carried Rhonda in a bag with a puppy ear headband and a black nose painted on her face. She remembered how hard she’d had to convince him to be Paris Hilton, and when he finally agreed, she used it as proof that he liked her and asked him on their first date. There was also one of her favorite photos from their wedding. They had their pieces of cake and Rhonda stretched on tiptoe to shove a piece in Piotr’s mouth. There was buttercream frosting smeared on half her face; Piotr had tried to give her too big a piece, and half of it had fallen right back onto the plate.
Rhonda chewed her lip, emotions surging, but hard to identify. Was she touched? Angry? Sick? Betrayed? She couldn’t even decide if she felt one emotion or everything at once. She blew a big huff and kept walking for the kitchen.
--
The next few days followed a pattern. Rhonda tried to be social, but sometimes someone would say or do something or move or stand in a certain way that made her lungs freeze, ready to fight. Then, humiliated, she would hide in her room, the gardens, or her practice room for a few hours. Every day, she spent time with that damn lightbulb, and every day didn’t quite get it to stay lit. At night, she would have some quiet time with Piotr in their bedroom before taking a sedative and fall into (hopefully) dreamless sleep. The times she skipped or forgot the sedative, she would wake up in a cold sweat, trying to fight Piotr until she remembered where she was. The bruises, scabs, and calluses faded, the dark circles under her eyes lifted, her coloring started coming back. She looked more like a person and less like some creature that hadn’t seen the sun in half a decade. But the general hardness in her expression remained.
Piotr did his best. He spoke with their closest friends and X-Men teammates and gave them a brief rundown of what she had been through, so she wouldn’t have to answer the same questions over and over. He laid down a few new rules:
If you’re a telepath, keep your mind a mile away from Rhonda’s. For the love of everything good, if you do read something in her mind, don’t comment on it.
Don’t startle her. She will fight.
Don’t ask about the tattoos or scars.
Don’t comment on how strong and gifted she used to be, or how she’s lost her gifts now.
These things seemed like common sense, but after the incident with Cable, and how Scott tried to push for a full debrief directly from Rhonda, Logan tried to crack a joke about her tattoos, and Kurt tried to prank her out of old habit, and nearly got a shiv in his gut for it, Piotr felt a need to establish some rules to make things easier on everyone. Also, no one knew when she made or started carrying a shiv around the house, or where she kept it on her person.
A mission or two came up for the X-Men, but Colossus didn’t go. He felt it was still too soon to leave his wife for an indefinite length of time. So, they managed without him.
Of the veteran X-Men, Ororo was the most helpful. She and Rhonda were close friends, and used to train together all the time. With some persuading, Rhonda agreed to let Ororo work with her in the makeshift practice room, but she still wouldn’t set foot in the Danger Room.
“What is it, Rhon?” Ororo asked during a practice session. “Yesterday you were so close to having a steady light, and today it seems like you’re not focusing.” She kept a respectful distance, hands on her hips in a relaxed posture.
Rhonda puffed out her cheeks in a sigh and turned the lightbulb over in her fingertips. She struggled to find words, “It’s just...I didn’t think about how hard it would be. Coming home.”
Ororo said nothing, patiently waiting for her friend to continue.
“I didn’t even know how long I had been gone, and I come home and Piotr’s got a girlfriend and he seemed happy with her. And Ellie’s an adult now, and I just...is there even room for me in these people’s lives anymore?” She paced the room. “It’s just so messy and fucked up, should I not have come home?”
Frowning with concern, Ororo tilted her head and reached to touch Rhonda’s shoulder, “Oh, honey, you can’t think like that. Listen, nobody is happier to have you home than Piotr and Ellie. And me. You have to know that.”
Rhonda stared past the bulb in her hand at the floor. When she met Ororo’s eyes again, she said, “Come see.” With a beckoning twist of her hand, she led Ororo to the glass case that had the memorial.
They looked at it together, Rhonda taking in new details she had missed before. Near her dance shoes was her favorite hoodie she used to wear to warm up for dance. There were a handful of mix CDs--from back when people did that. One of the photos was of her and Ellie as a kid, when they had painted their nails black together. Rhonda clenched her jaw, grinding her teeth before saying quietly, “The other day, Piotr told me he will always regret that he gave up looking for me.” She tapped a fingernail on the glass at the photos of her early X-Men days. “But it wasn’t just Piotr. Everyone gave up on me. You all were picking out flowers and an empty casket to bury and what crappy pictures to put in this thing and I was--I fucking--” she huffed, then sniffed. “I fell for some shitty deals, is what I did. This inmate or that guard promised to get a message outside for me, and they didn’t, they were never going to.” Rhonda shook her head, voice dripping with venom. “I still fell for it every. Single. Time. Like a fucking idiot.”
Ororo noticed the lightbulb in Rhonda’s hand as it hung at her side. It was glowing, and only getting brighter.
Rhonda read from one of the plaques, “The worst day on the job is when not everyone makes it home.” She rolled her eyes, “Please. Did Scott write this?”
“I did,” Ororo replied, hurt.
Rhonda slapped her free hand flat on the glass, mouth twitching. “I’m still living the worst day on the job! The one time I really needed the giant X on my chest to protect me--” she rapped her knuckles on the glass in front of her old uniform, her volume climbing “It didn’t. In fact, it made things worse.”
She raised her right hand, only now noticing the bulb was glowing bright enough to make Ororo squint. Pushing up her sleeve with her left hand, to show the Xs on her forearm, she shouted, “Do you see these fucking--”
The lightbulb shattered, sparks flying.
Ororo was quick to shield her face, but a few shards of the glass nicked Rhonda’s cheek, only narrowly missing her eyes. Blood beaded and trickled in thin rivulets from the nicks. They both froze, looking from the metal fitting in Rhonda’s hand to the tiny shards on the floor to the big framed photo with the lightning spiking from her extended hand.
“You lit it,” Ororo said.
Rhonda tossed the fitting into the trash can across the hall, scowling when she returned to the case. “I want my stuff out of here.”
Brushing back her white hair, Ororo nodded, “I think I have keys.” On her big key ring of work keys, she found the one that opened this case and slid the front panel open.
While Rhonda snatched her dance shoes, hoodie, Piotr’s sketches, CDs, and most of the photos, Ororo made a small whirlwind just powerful enough to pick up the shards of the lightbulb to bring them to the trash as well. Rhonda was right behind her with the plaques and framed photo.
It hurt to see her friend so angry, even though she knew it wasn’t just about the plaques Ororo had written. She stopped her before she could shove them into the trash with a vengeance, “Wait.” She held out her hands for the plaques, and Rhonda begrudgingly handed them over. When she raised the photo to dump it, Ororo said, “Piotr picked that picture. He said it was his favorite.” Her eyes welled up with tears. Cradling the plaques in one arm, she swiped away tears with her free hand. “He told me that was the day he knew he was in love with you.”
Rhonda lowered the photo and looked at it again. Those bangs were terrible, the hair dye wasn’t fresh, but the young woman in the photo was so excited to work on a team and make the world safer for mutants, and to do it alongside her best friend and the man she loved. That young woman was so sure of her purpose, and nobody could shake her from it. Rhonda’s throat closed up as she fought to not let any tears slip. She didn’t mean to rage at her best friend like this, or trash her friends’ well-meaning sentiment. She was just tired of feeling broken and weak. After a few long breaths, she handed the photo over to Ororo.
“No one would fault you for being angry,” Ororo watched Rhonda gather her things, and her moment of hesitation before grabbing the uniform. “We were wrong. We messed up. That hurts. But we’re doing our best now.” She sniffed and wiped away another streak of tears.
Rhonda nodded slowly. She took the rest of the photos from parties and tucked all the flat things between her hoodie and the dance shoes. The glass case was empty except for a little dust and a few dead spiders. “I’m done with memorials.”
That much was loud and clear. “I’ll put these somewhere else,” Ororo nodded. “What about your face?”
It took Rhonda a minute to realize her face was bleeding from when the glass hit her. She rolled her eyes and shrugged, “What’s another scar?”
“Clean it at least, please, Miss Rub-Some-Dirt-In-It.” They both chuckled, then an encouraging smile spread over her face. “Hey Rhonda? You lit the bulb.”
Rhonda beamed, glancing away and back to Ororo before whispering, “Yeah,” as if saying it aloud would jinx it. She hugged her things to her chest, and headed back to her room.
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Words Upon the Scales
The Prima Vista hung in Kugane's sky with as much presence as Bismarck. Priscilla had left her on Tasogare Bridge only for a moment while she ran off to find dango, and Ashe could not begrudge her the indulgence: she, too, wished for something to take her mind off of the massive red barge that seemed to obscure so much of the horizon.
And then there was nothing left to do but to greet their informant.
They strode to the airship hangar together, the Ala Mhigan and the Garlean, speaking not at all; Ashe found herself grateful for the skewered sweets that Priscilla thrust into her hand and the silence that eating afforded them both, at least until the sugar threatened to invoke mutiny in her already nerve-racked stomach.
At the airship hangar, a woman in decidedly Garlean clothing stood watch in a corner by the ticketing booths. Ashe signaled for Priscilla not to approach at once and instead surveyed her to determine whether or not she seemed to be relaying word of their arrival via any sort of hidden communication network. But the woman remained staid, hands clasped before her; Ashe could determine no means by which she might have alerted anyone to their arrival in advance. Sure enough, as Ashe pushed her way through the crowd with Priscilla at her side, she thought she saw the woman's eyes widen.
She nodded to the ship still in the distance. "I daresay that ship behind us is as red as a Galbana."
The woman took in a deep, shaking breath. "Indeed so." Her voice was light, accented; Ashe turned to Priscilla, but nothing in the woman's face registered recognition. This, then, was not their informant. Still, the woman ushered them past a gate and onto a small shuttle - one that would bring them aboard the Prima Vista.
As the shuttle left the hangar and crossed over the placid sea, Priscilla slipped one of her hands into Ashe's own for only a moment before she recoiled. "Do you always sweat when you're nervous?" she quipped.
Ashe scoffed but wiped her palms upon her jacket.
For all her qualms about boarding a Garlean vessel, the Prima Vista thrummed with a far different energy from her expectations. Even before she had exited the shuttle in full, she could discern none of the magitek that so obviously powered the ship; Priscilla, too, surveyed the marvel of engineering with a fond sort of smile. The harsh blue glow of ceruleum was all but absent, and the broader mechanisms were silent in their operations. The only audible sounds were those of life and laughter.
Priscilla had been right: this was a strange place for any informant to hide - or perhaps it was among the best. She strode through a set of double doors leading to a central workshop area and found artistry in every sense of the word. There was a breathtaking sort of magic to the place, what with the massive dioramas along the ceiling and walls, and outlandish costumes strewn about, and scores of people moving and speaking with such volume and grace. Ashe felt as though she had stepped into a different world entirely - one ruled by chaos, in which Garlemald brought joy to the world rather than misery.
And then her eyes fell upon a small woman in a far corner, only barely visible from behind a rack of silk fabrics but nonetheless conspicuous for her Ala Mhigan face-
"ALMA!" she screamed.
Her cry made hardly a dent in the commotion throughout the workshop, but the woman's head turned from her tasks. Ashe barreled past a wide-eyed girl, nearly upended a man scribbling furiously into a book, to reach this person from whom the Black Shroud had separated her over twenty years ago.
The woman did not lift both arms to embrace her, laden as they were with yalms upon yalms of fabric. When Ashe had at last sprinted the length of the workshop, her own empty hands found the woman's shoulders; she merely held her there and could do no more, because now she was sobbing - sobbing as she had cried so rarely throughout the years since Ala Mhigo's invasion.
"My dear girl," the woman whispered in their native tongue. She placed her right hand on the side of Ashe's face and Ashe leaned into the touch, starved for it and for the memories that that simple gesture brought back to the fore of her mind. "I wept much the same when I learned the name of she who had killed Gaius van Baelsar."
Most of the attending thespians had since returned to their business, or else had pointedly turned away from the emotional scene transpiring in their midst. Yet someone approached from behind and Ashe gave a start, relieved to find only her companion.
"Priscilla," she said, trying and failing to stem her tide of tears with the back of her hand, "this is my aunt."
Priscilla nodded. "What a coincidence. This is my informant." With that, the Garlean began to bawl.
Malla, her aunt had insisted on being called in public. Not because Alma was dead, but because there was already an Alma aboard the Prima Vista. She brought Ashe and Priscilla to her quarters: a converted tailoring space on the ship's port side, cramped even for one person. There, in whatever semblance of privacy they shared, she apologized to Priscilla for her earlier secrecies and introduced herself as Alma dus Velius. She spoke the title with such assertion that Ashe squirmed.
"I first came aboard as a means of offering what intelligence I could to the captain," Alma explained. She sat upon her bed with several yalms of heavy silk still draped across her left arm. "But most days, I help with the costuming. The Majestic's best costumer elected to remain in Garlemald."
Priscilla nodded knowingly to this statement, but the intricacies of the Majestic's relationship to their home nation remained lost on Ashe. "And the captain is... with the Dalmascan Resistance?"
Alma shook her head. "Not in the least. Jenomis' goals... run parallel to the Resistance's, and he's as anti-imperial as any highborn Garlean can be. Not unlike your friend." She gave a gracious sort of nod to Priscilla, who mimed a curtsy in her trousers. "Yet while Jenomis would doubtless welcome the Riskbreakers, he does not yet know that I have reached out to you."
"You're acting alone, then."
She hesitated, her somber face drawn further into a frown, but Ashe could detect no semblance of a lie upon her features. "My summons is at the behest of a single leader of the Dalmascan Resistance: one who realizes that their movement may only succeed with the help of those with proven victories against the Empire. Even so, I am not an official member of the Resistance. Rather, I've spent the better part of twenty years feeding them information on Garlean movements... while I worked alongside a dear friend."
"Twenty years," Priscilla repeated. "And Dalmasca has been occupied for more than thirty!" She pivoted to face Ashe, hands on her hips, and let out a single nervous laugh. "I don't mean to question your methods, Ashelia - but how does one even begin to remedy such a thing?!"
And Ashe could find no fault in the question. She herself stood in silence for several moments, until she lowered her eyes to the deep purple quilt upon which Alma sat, bound in an achingly familiar whipstitch. "You take down the man responsible."
Alma nodded. "And do you know of the man responsible?"
"Legatus..." She had heard it often enough over the years, though only ever as a passing reference: over imperial broadcasts, amid extensive reports, within a magitek holding tank. "...van Gabranth."
"I have served under Legatus Noah van Gabranth for five years," Alma replied. "And in that time, not a single detail has escaped his notice. The man is strategic, ruthless - but above all else, he is devoted to order and its maintenance. He has ruled over Dalmasca as viceroy since the bell of its subjugation, and his intelligence department - the 9th Bureau - consistently outperforms the Frumentarium in every respect. Yet I happen to know that van Gabranth will soon depart Rabanastre, the seat of his order, to attend to a highly confidential mission in Valnain. What this mission is, I do not know - yet it presents the Riskbreakers with an opportunity to reach Dalmasca's capital. And after all, you do have a habit of breaking into even the most fortified locations and emerging unscathed."
The memory of her Garlean capture came to her once more with a shiver. "Not always unscathed," she murmured.
Alma stared up at her with violet eyes identical to her own. "One final supplication, then: I was never one to believe in fate, even before Ala Mhigo fell. But it has struck me so strongly that our reunion should intertwine with Dalmasca's freedom; there are coincidences that line up too well to be anything but destiny." She nodded toward the door that led out to the hall, and to the workshop beyond. "The red-haired girl whom you encountered is Alma. Her late mother, Tia. And the one who has requested that the Riskbreakers come to Dalmasca bears the moniker 'Princess Ashe' - Ashelia, after Dalmasca's heir, murdered thirty years ago."
Priscilla let out a whistle. "Whoever wrote this one really loves their parallels," she quipped. "Or maybe this is all some big faerie tale: another set of actors to finish their namesake's work. Poetic."
For the first time, a smile - sad, as though the very action pained her - crossed Alma's face. "You loved your father's faerie tales as a girl, Ashelia - though you would be forgiven for thinking less of them now." With that, Alma stood, throwing the silks across her shoulder to reveal a dark metal prosthetic arm with a hand like a claw. "Think on it. Above all else, you are Grand Steward, and you have done far more against the Empire than I ever could. If even Ala Mhigo's liberators feel themselves incapable of this task thirty years in the making, I will surely not protest otherwise."
"I'll consider any ways we might be able to contribute," Ashe promised. Her heart soared at the mere prospect of continuing the fight, of beating back the Empire ever further, of empowering others to succeed as Ala Mhigo had - but she would first need to return home, to tell her family of all that her first glimpse at Dalmasca had had to offer.
"Your mother," Alma said then, as if she had sensed her thoughts. The two words pulled her from her reverie, back to her aunt's apprehensive, tear-filled eyes. "What became of her?"
And though the answer was as painful as ever, for the first time, the answer alone did not bring Ashe to weeping.
"She has never stopped missing her sister." She glanced over her shoulder to assess her companion's reaction to the words that she knew would need to be spoken, committing her once and for all to the secrets worthy of her family. "And neither has my father."
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My Endgame thoughts in 3,160 words and 17,025 characters. Under a cut. Spoilers, obviously.
Really. Truly. The whole thing.
Well. I texted a friend as soon as I got out, and I told him “that was a very good movie peppered with lots of shit that I didn’t care for at all.”
I don’t know what I think about it. If it was good or bad. If I like it or not.
If you read spoilers but didn’t see it, and we’re mad, I get that. I was mad too. I wrote most of this last night, and I’ve had to go back and amend it.
Also, please check your Tony vs Steve bs at the door. I like them both to varying degrees. That said I take issue with Steve’s choices and characterization at the end. We’ll get to that.
The Tony fans at least can say their boy saved the universe. They’re going to be mad still, but at least he went out in the best way possible if he had to die. Which he didn’t, but... we’ll get to that too.
The people who will be mad the most? Cap fans. Sharon Carter fans. Black Widow fans. Thor fans. Iron Man fans, probably, won’t be mad so much as sad. Actually, no, mad, because they probably wanted a happy ending for him.
So yeah. Is it “bad” if it makes so many people mad? Or are they just choices they didn’t like? For me, there was a lot of that. There was also a bit of characterization I didn’t like.
I’ll say this though, because the Steve thing that has everyone mad? I’m mad too, but per their time travel rules?
Steve didn’t erase Peggy’s family. They still exist in our timeline. Steve created a new timeline for himself to go live in. We don’t know if he stopped HYDRA and saved Bucky in that one, but I mean, we can assume.
So everyone complaining that he let all that shit happen? No he didn’t. This is an alternate reality he’s living in now.
If we go by what they established about changing the past not affecting the present.
But then we have Joe Biden Steve at the end, so... unless that’s a Joe Biden Steve who went from his timeline back to ours once he grew old. Not a Steve that existed and lived in the past of our current timeline. Then it actually works without contradicting their own time travel rules.
IMO... they ignored/ruined his character arc... but due to their aforementioned time travel rules, Steve going to the past wouldn’t affect that the present that he’s leaving.
So he COULD stop HYDRA, find Bucky, prevent Howard’s death, warn Hank and Janet about the missile.
That would all be an alternate timeline though, and our Bucky would still be the Winter Soldier.
So yeah, they contradict themselves... and completely fuck over Sharon Carter in the process. You know Steve didn’t tell Sam who his wife was, because he didn’t want him to tell Sharon that after kissing her he went back to marry her Aunt thus creating an alternate timeline to live in.
That’s the present being affected by him going back in time. Your time travel rules suck, Marvel.
So the children and family Peggy had? They still exist in our timeline, but not the timeline Steve created. The reality Steve created.
Okay so they don’t explain it, so this is just me trying to make sense of it myself. They say changing the past doesn’t change the present you left from, so unless Bruce was wrong and they’re contradicting their own rules Old Steve can’t have been actually out there all this time.
So I guess even though he didn’t show up in the gear and with the time machine when we see him, he did earlier, and just went to wait by the lake with the shield to be all dramatic? He probably waited to return until his Peggy died, and then he returned at some random point maybe like a day before they planned to send him back. He knew they would be there, so he just waited in his old man clothes.
That’s all I can think of.
So retroactively?
They had Steve kiss his wife’s alternate reality niece. I like Sharon Carter in the comics, I like what little they did with her on film.
They did her so dirty in the MCU, in the comics Peggy is almost a footnote and just part of his backstory. Sharon is Steve’s true love. Whether you ship them or not, they made Peggy out to be a bigger deal than she is in the source material.
I’m not here for pitting women against each other, but... God, the only woman the MCU has done dirtier is Betty Ross. Who should have been there with her dad at the funeral. Acknowledge her existence, Marvel. Yes they’re estranged, but maybe say having her die made Ross stop being such a dickhead and realize what really mattered.
Calling Peggy the love of his life is bullshit. Yeah, he had a date. Had. He never made it, due to being frozen. I don’t agree that they loved each other, tbh. I saw someone say they each had an idealistic, at times unhealthy attachment... but not love. Frankly? That’s not wrong. They liked each other. It never developed into love. Not in the timeline/reality we followed for the past ten years.
If this was their plan all along, then why did they introduce Sharon as a potential love interest?
Peggy is his past, Sharon is his future. The Lana Lang and the Lois Lane, respectively.
They didn’t plan this. It’s clear by how sloppy it is. It’s just so haphazard and insulting to all the characters involved, and yet Evans seems to be on board with it which disappoints but doesn’t surprise me.
Sharon didn’t have much screentime in the MCU, but every moment she had was important to the plot. She was one of the only agents that questioned Pierce’s orders. She held Rumlow at gunpoint even though the odds were against her. She let Steve know where Bucky was. She gave he and Sam back their gear. A lot of her scenes in Civil War got cut, and she got screwed by making it an Avengers movie instead of a proper Cap film.
She also got screwed by fandom. People acted like known like fucking toddlers, all because she was getting in the way of popular ships. Emily Van Camp was terribly harassed online, people calling her Steve’s beard or that it was icky and gross. Evans even said it was icky, which wasn’t that supportive of him... and then...
I liked Peggy in The First Avenger, but Hayley Atwell’s lowkey/high key narcissism is known within fandom circles, how she turned on Emily Van Camp and Sharon as a whole and threw shade at cons and on twitter and such. That left a bad taste in my mouth where I no longer care for the character at this point.
And they complete ignore/regress Cap’s arc of moving on. The fact he’s not the same man who went into the ice which is something even Whedon realized and addressed when he had him snap himself out of his Scarlet Witch!Vision.
The line from TWS they sampled for the trailer about the world changing and none of them can go back?
That was a lie. What’s ridiculous is that is the same exact directors, same exact screenwriters?
“Some people move on, but not us?” Well in that regard he had, so fuck that.
Speaking of regression, Thor’s?
I’m of two minds. He had depression and PTSD, but in my opinion, that’s end result wasn’t what Thor’s end result would be. He probably felt like he failed his people, but Jesus Christ, turning him into the Big Lebowski... fat jokes...
He becomes king, half his people are slaughtered and then and then he just... abandons the rest? To drink and watch his friends play video games? That’s sad. I think Thor would have felt like he failed and be hurting, but still try to do his best for the people who were left and still needed him? Instead of letting Valkyrie do it and the at the end to officially giving her the burden of ruling and fucking off into space?
And then at the end, he *officially* throws the burden of ruling in Valkyrie’s hands. Not that she isn’t capable, but it isn’t and shouldn’t be her responsibility.
“He’s being who he is, not who he’s supposed to be.”
That would be nice if it didn’t invalidate his arc. He didn’t want to be king at the end of Thor: The Dark World either, but at the end of Ragnarok he accepted it and was at peace with it.
Also, he didn’t need the hammer. Ragnarok made that clear. I’m glad Steve took it back with the stones, and I know it was more Thor needing to know if he was still worthy after becoming Big Lebowski... but it wasn’t needed. They just wanted Cap to wield it, and for them to have something else blunt to hit Thanos with.
This is the easiest money Natalie Portman made in her life. I feel bad for my friend who is a big Jane fan, as it’s literally maybe 15 seconds.
Nice to see Pierce, Sitwell, and Rumlow/Crossbones back, even if it’s only for a flashback and they’re all still dead in our reality. Or it would be, if it didn’t make the latter two out to be dumb. I mean, Rumlow isn’t a genius but he’s not just a dumb meathead. He wouldn’t just hand over the tesseract, he’d bring Cap to his superiors to ask “yeah hey what the fuck?”
Also, having Cap say Hail HYDRA is just... gross.
...Alternate timeline/reality Loki has the tesseract. I guess he’s the one the Disney+ series is going to follow. He’s wiped of all his development, though.
Vision is still dead. I guess maybe Shuri will rebuild him? Or it will take place between Civil War and Infinity War
So Guardians 3 is going to be about finding the alternate timeline Gamora who is now stuck in this one, huh? And I guess Thor is now a Guardian, or he’ll leave them between movies?
The alternate Nebula, I’m torn on. I think they could have gotten through to her, and she would be willing to team up with him. and would be willing to team up with them to kill Thanos. She never told him where the Soul Stone was. I mean, that’s why she aligned herself with Ronan. To kill Thanos. She hates Thanos.
Her wanting to make him proud and earn his favor despite what he did to her is heartbreaking on one hand, but the loyalty, when it’s been shown she’ll be disloyal and desert him if someone promises to kill him... idk. Btw.
Nebula should have gotten to kill Thanos. I don’t care that Iron Man started and is their poster boy. I’m sorry Tony fans. She deserved it more than he did.
Something else I’m curious about... was Peter Parker’s entire class killed? Not just Ned, the whole class. MJ, Flash, etc.? Because his entire supporting cast doesn’t seem to have aged at all in the Far From Home previews.
Also you’re telling me that in those five years, May never confronted Tony? Or if she did, we never saw it? Boo.
Oh, another dumb thing. Banner. Hulk. Professor Hulk. We don’t see how Banner made peace with the Hulk and became Professor Hulk, that all happens offscreen which is so cheap. He’s also just annoying throughout the whole film, and treated as comic relief? Also, the uncanny valley was deep this time around.
I’d honestly rather Cap had died as well, rather than the ending he got. Rather, if old man Steve didn’t show up, and there was just a cliffhanger of him being lost in time? Which has precedent in the comics? That would have been great. Instead of the bad characterization.
I’m indifferent to Tony’s death, honestly. He could have retired and raised his daughter. He could have died. I guess it’s cheaper to just kill him off and not worry about paying Downey for cameos they wouldn’t be able to resist.
Okay, the other death. Nat’s. I don’t care for it, but it worked. When I say it worked, I mean her motivations and the fact she at least had some autonomy. It was still fridging. It’s gross. It sucks.. but at least it wasn’t exactly like Gamora’s where she was a victim. I mean, she is a victim. A victim of gross writing, but... I like the character, you’re killing the only female OG Avenger for angst and drama... I would have preferred it was Renner, but her reasons worked even if I didn’t like it. I do think it would have been even just as heartbreaking/tragic though, it Clint had to give up his life for the hope of getting his family back. A devil’s bargain, they’ll be alive, but you won’t be and won’t see them again.
I question the hell is the point of a Black Widow movie now. Why should we care? Don’t get me wrong I like Nat. I have nothing against self contained, one-off adventures... but... it will be a prequel that doesn’t develop the character at all or see her grow and it’ll be inconsequential in the grand scheme of things. It may be enjoyable, but do we need to see it? It’s the Solo situation.
Do we need to see how the character became the character? What purpose does telling her backstory now serve, aside from just making people sad? Do we see how she started so we can appreciate how far she came, though? I can already appreciate that. You don’t need to twist the knife by making her origin her swan song. They can’t bring back our Nat, but who knows. Maybe the next villain will be Kang, and we aren’t done with time travel. Maybe we can have an alternate timeline Nat come into our universe like we did with Gamora.
A timeline where Clint was the one to die. I can deal with that, if they give ScarJo the money. I guess.
SCOTT LANG SAVED THE UNIVERSE. Well, actually. Also, a rat. A rat is responsible for saving the universe. I mean I laughed, but we couldn’t see Scott get himself out? He’s still my boy.
He’s probably my favorite character in the film. Seeing him and Hope reunite in the end battle was nice and made me happy, the way they didn’t miss a beat and got to working together. Him trying to keep it together when he talked about losing her. The end scene with them and Cassie. The fact she called Cap “Cap” and they shared a glance. Sucks for Scott to have missed five years of his daughter’s life, through.
Also, it kinda sucks that along with the people brought back, they couldn’t bring them the likes of Frigga and Quicksilver. Yes, they died, but you can still revive them in the present. You don’t have to make it so they never died. Maybe Quicksilver will Maybe in the WandaVision show, especially now that they won’t have to worry about a competing Fox version. Introduce her ability to warp reality. He was rumored to have been on set, and so I was expecting to see him in a flashback at least. Alas.
SPEAKING OF REVIVING DEAD CHARACTERS THOUGH. Why couldn’t like, Carol, use the gauntlet to revive Tony before they sent the stones back? She could take it. He didn’t need to stay dead, except for the fact... you know... Downey is expensive.
Something I find hilarious?
The kid from Iron Man 3 is at the funeral.
That kid knew nothing about the film whatsoever, except for the biggest spoiler? Cause if they invite HIM back to be at a funeral scene... whose funeral would it be, that he would attend, aside from Tony’s?
Oh, and SamCap. People, calm down.
I like Sam, Sam is worthy of the shield, Bucky’s not quite in a place where he’s ready for it anyway. In the comics Bucky becomes Cap, and then Sam becomes Cap after him. They can reverse the order. Bucky can still become Cap after him. Sebastian still has four movies left in his nine movie deal.
I’m curious about the Disney+ show now though. If it will be retitled, if they announced a fake title ala Serpent Society for Civil War. Although. I have a fear.
I don’t trust Marvel and I can see them killing Sam by the end of the Falcon & Winter Soldier series.
And then Bucky will take up the shield. Mackie’s 40. Idk how much longer he’ll want to be doing this, and he’s said in interviews he had no interest in bringing Cap and would like to see Sebastian take a crack at it, that he likes Falcon being Falcon.
Maybe age isn’t a factor. Bettany’s in his 40’s. Cheadle’s in his fifties. Paul Rudd is an ageless immortal who claims to be fifty. None of those are physically demanding roles though, not to the scale of Cap. The closest would be Chadwick Boseman, who is a year older at 41.
Age aside, I can see them doing it. That’s kinda the shit Marvel would do.
“Yay! We’re so progressive! We’re making Sam Captain America to placate his fans before we kill him! We won’t do that *just* yet in Endgame, we’ll wait to kill the black guy until he’s done helping out this other white guy figure out his place in the world!”
Now I’m gonna be anxious about that for the next year or two.
But so I think the shows are for characters on the shelf movie wise. Idk if when the show is over, we’ll see Mackie as Captain America in Avengers 5. It would be cool, but idk.
I don’t know if they’re even thinking of Avengers 5 at this point, or plotting out things like Guardians and Black Panther and Captain Marvel. And Eternals. And all their new Fox characters.
I guess the new Avengers line up will be Captain Marvel, Black Panther, Ant-Man, Wasp, SamCap, and Spider-Man? Maybe Doctor Strange?
Wanda retires to TV. As does Clint maybe, to train Kate Bishop and/or his daughter. Rhodey and Banner are just around.
Also. Banner and Thunderbolt Ross, at the end. Ross and the Hulk. Both in the same scene. Neither acknowledging each other or having any interaction whatsoever. Odd.
I keep hearing rumors about a Thunderbolts movie tho, from someone who was accurate with all of their Endgame leaks. I wonder if they want Ross to be the Fury of that which is why they’ve kept him around.
Bucky recently led the Thunderbolts but also Zemo is so ingrained in their history and I don’t see them working together at all.
I guess you could bring in Bernthal’s Punisher by that point if you want. Elektra. They won’t do it but they could.
Ghost would be a good fit, tho I don’t wanna see her be forced to kill people again. I can see them forcing her to work of a sentence. If she’s still alive, cause God if she was snapped and went 5 years without the Quantum energy... but yeah.
Bring back The Leader as a villain finally. Crap, I’m plotting a fanfiction.
https://twitter.com/rogerwardell/status/1070465411387404289?s=21
Idk. I just. Am disappointed but not surprised tbh.
Everyone knows I don’t like MCU Clint, but the callback interaction between he and T’Challa with the latter remembering his name was nice I guess. The final battle as a whole was nice I guess.
OH. And the exchange between Dr. Strange and Wong about if he brought everyone, and if he anted more? Probably not the intent, but to me it just seemed like a big “shut up” to everyone wanting the Netflix and Agents of SHIELD characters to cross over.
Also, a final critique?
The whole fake scripts, not giving actors a script thing. I hate it. I know like Mark Ruffalo and Tom Holland are notorious for letting spoilers slip, but I legit believe that a reason why A LOT of the actors got fake scripts was not to prevent spoilers but to prevent any of them going full Ed Norton and throwing a fit about the quality of said script.
Not letting the actors know the context of the scene they are performing is not only disrespectful but it’s broken and what can you expect but performances where they’re legitimately incapable of giving it their all?
That’s all I got for now. I guess.
I know it’s a joke, “I loved everything except for the stuff I didn’t” but seriously? I enjoyed everything except for the stuff I hated. Does that stuff ruin the movie? Do I not like it because I’m petty, or because it’s bad? You can not like something, it doesn’t mean it’s bad... but I think certain choices... were bad. Were very bad.
Was it shit sandwiched with awesome, or awesome sandwiched with shit? Do they balance each other out? Your mileage may vary. I haven’t decided yet.
EDITED: I replied to this in another post, a point by @chujo-hime, but I’ll copy/paste it on here since more people are likely to see this than our conversation.
“There’s no point in doing BuckyCap now that they’ve fridged Natasha”
I can’t fault you for feeling that way, and I don’t entirely disagree. have a theory on how Natasha could return despite them saying it couldn’t be undone.
Do what they did with Gamora. Take a version from an alternate universe/timeline. Maybe one where everything is the same, except that Clint died instead of her.
Whether or not they do this? Doubtful. Unless with the money they’re saving by letting another actor go (ahem) they give it to ScarJo to lure her back.
I mean, they have Kang back now. Next to Ultron, he’s one of The Avengers’ biggest villains. He’s also a time traveler, so there are ways… idk.
I’ve still not fully processed it. Whether Marvel is smart enough or cares to take advantage of their out, they have it. If nothing else, fans can exploit it in Fix-It fics.
ANOTHER EDIT:
Oh, what was the point of Ronin? I don’t mean sad Clint, I mean Ronin, aside from selling more action figures? He wasn’t even Ronin, they made him into The Punisher Lite. Ronin wasn’t Ronin, but I mean Clint hasn’t been Clint imo so...
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We Can Do It In Vegas
REPOSTING DUE TO TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES! Characters: Tony Stark, Fem!Tony Stark, Natasha Stark, Toni Stark, Iron Woman, Iron Man, Steve Rogers, Captain America
Pairing: Toni Stark x Steve Rogers (Stony or Stoni)
Word Count: 6,994
Summary: It didn’t take Natasha Stark much to convince Steve Rogers to have a spur-of-the-moment, iron-clad, star-spangled destination wedding in Las Vegas. Weddings are supposed to be sappy and sentimental, but Toni wouldn’t be Toni if she didn’t try to fluster the super soldier until he couldn’t take it anymore. How exactly is that going to go over with her new husband?
Warnings: 18+ Readers only, smut, Dom/sub tones, some cursing so mild language, some fluff, teasing, slight denial if you look hard enough
A/N: This was a fic that was part of @becaamm‘s Valentine’s Day Challenge. I asked for the prompt of “We can do it in Vegas,” and this delectable little piece just flowed right onto the paper. It’s been a while since I wrote something so sultry and downright sexy, and initially I wasn’t that pleased with it until I read it out loud. Please let me know what you think! All comments (and criticisms) are appreciated!
Lithe arms stretched out as Natasha Stark rolled off her super soldier lover. Her chest rose and sank heavily as she struggled to catch her breath, head and body reeling from the salacious activities that had just taken place. Wiggling around on her side of the bed beside Steve Rogers, she could hear the popping of some of her ligaments.
“I think I’m gonna have to hit the gym with you,” she whined, twisting to the side as her back popped. “Either that or start taking multivitamins like an old woman. My body just isn’t what it used to be.”
Steve grunted in acknowledgement.
Milk chocolate eyes peeked through long lashes at his face. Baby blue hues were fixated on the ceiling in deep concentration. She waved a hand in front of his face, and he blinked down to her with a grin. “Hey, doll.
“Hey yourself,” she murmured, snuggling up against his side and tossing an arm over his chest. “What’s got your star spangled Spanx in a bunch?”
His hand came up and weaved his fingers through her own. With minimal effort, he pulled her hand closer into view where he could stare down at the radiantly sparkling jewel donning her left ring finger. “Just can’t wait to make you my wife is all,” he whispered, lips brushing over her knuckles.
Her lips curled into a soft smile before it faded. They had been through hell together. They defended Earth against an alien invasion, stopped the world destruction from her own robot creation and his army, and even went toe-to-toe with each other. When it came to Thanos, they weren’t able to stop him...and she almost died in space. Since being reunited, they hadn’t been able to get enough of each other. Even how fast the engagement came was quite a shock.
They determined that they were going to take their time though, maybe put the wedding off for a year or so. Rushing in so soon after the decimation probably wouldn’t be fair to everyone else.
Then again...the wedding wasn’t for everyone else, was it?
Her eyes grew wide as an idea popped into that genius mind of hers. She perked up, drawing Steve’s attention away from the ceiling and onto her. “We can do it in Vegas.”
“What?”
Pure excitement pulsed through her veins as she jolted up out of bed, sitting cross-legged and holding onto her knees. “Steve, it’s perfect! Let’s just get married in Vegas!”
He cocked an eyebrow. “What, like elope? What about the others, and Rhodey, and Pepper, and…”
Her hands raked through her just-screwed auburn locks in frustration. “That’s just it, Steve. Our wedding? That’s for us, to celebrate our union. You can’t wait. I can’t wait. Why should we wait?”
“But-”
“We could get married at the Little Neon Chapel, have Elvis officiate and then drive down Las Vegas Boulevard in a pink Cadillac,” she interjected, ignoring him.
He rolled his eyes, his hand resting on her knee to get her attention. When her eyes locked on his, he offered her a small smirk. “Why spend the money to go all the way out there when we could just as easily get married at the courthouse with a few witnesses?”
She shook her head, eyes falling where his hand rested. “We haven’t ventured very far from this compound since I got back,” she drawled. “We’ve been exhausting all our resources to reverse this thing...and I want to, I do. I still close my eyes and see Parker just disintegrating in my arms.”
There was silence from Captain America, but he squeezed his fiancee’s leg as a gesture of support.
Tears formed in her eyes as she glanced around the room and back at Steve. “Stevie...I have to get away from it for a while. I want our friends there, but I need to get away from all of it, every reminder. I’m afraid...I’m afraid I’ll go out of my everloving mind if I don’t.”
Instantly, his arms ensnared the woman in a bear hug, his hand bracing the back of her head and petting her hair in a comforting gesture. His lips met the corner of her eye as he kissed her tears away. “Okay, doll. Okay,” he cooed, squeezing her even tighter. “We can do it in Vegas.”
It was almost hard to believe that had been just 72 hours prior to the moment Toni was living in. Then again, to her, the last 72 hours flew by like a dream.
In their luxurious hotel room at the Venetian, she gaped in the mirror at the woman who was reflected back at her. Her lengthy light auburn locks were pinned back away from her face, the strands weaved into a elegant low updo held together by pearl and rhinestone bobby pins. One strand hung off to the right side for a little dramatic emphasis, curled just enough to give her hair a soft wave.
Her makeup itself was done mostly naturally. Darker flesh tones painted her eyelids, outlined on the bottom with inky lines of eyeliner. Her long lashes were made even lengthier and more full with waterproof mascara. She already had full lips to begin with as well, but the addition of maroon lipstick made them appear even plumper.
The dress itself was a marvel. She had managed to go to a bridal store and find the perfect ivory silk gown. The straps were thin, but cut over her chest in a v-formation with an extra little curve to accentuate her bosom. A wide ivory sash wrapped around the waist of the gown, separating the bodice from the skirt. The skirt flowed beautifully over her curves. It wasn’t form-fitting or body-conforming in the slightest, but hugged just the right areas before the fabric spilled to the floor and made a tiny pool at her feet. A slit ran right up the left side of the skirt to the middle of Toni’s thigh, adding just the right amount of sultry to the whole outfit. To pull everything together a little more, long silver earrings with diamond leaves down their length and two pearl spheres at the bottom dangled from her ears. Her freshly manicured feet adorned strappy silver heels with rhinestones down the front, toe and leg straps.
As Toni gawked, her stomach started to flip. Within such a small amount of time, she would be on a gondola marrying Steven Grant Rogers, a man out of time. Both of them had defeated the odds against them time and time again to get to where they were. It seemed so much like a fairy tale, a dream. Like if she reached out and touched anything, she’d wake up and still be lost in space, even further from Steve’s arms than she was in that moment.
Just the thought of that possibility made her nearly double over, the flipping in her stomach shifting to more of a churning. Her chest felt hollow and empty, like the air had been sucked from her lungs and the room. Her body trembled and convulsed as she shivered, the warmth having fled her body. Her clammy hands tugged at her own upper arms as she gasped for air.
“Miss Stark?” a voice trilled, a soft hand resting on the small of Toni’s back.
That minute amount of touch was enough to ground Toni a little, to calm the tumultuous storm that had been building inside her. Her head snapped up, her eyes locking on the concerned forest green eyes of a petite red-headed woman, the wedding planner. Taking a deep breath, the billionaire straightened herself out and gave the woman a small smile. “Sorry, Miss Waltham. What can I do for you?”
The woman carefully scanned Toni’s face, and Toni couldn’t help but feel guilty. How many brides with cold feet had she seen before, that ran out and cancelled the wedding completely? She must have been worried that Iron Woman was going to do the same thing. “Is everything okay? You know, it’s perfectly natural to feel nervous. Marriage is, after all, a new adventure! But I can assure you, it’s an exciting one.”
This caused the bride to snort. Because of their status as Earth’s defenders, even getting coffee was an adventure for them. She knew how the woman truly meant it, though: that every day was a new opportunity to discover things together and try new experiences. She could only wish for all of those opportunities with her new husband. When the red-head cleared her throat, Toni broke out of her mini daydream. “Sorry. Yes, I’m fine. It was a case of nerves, just not the nerves you think, I promise. I’ve never been more sure of anything...of anyone...in my life.”
The petite physique of the wedding planner wiggled in place before she bounced off, returning just a second later with a bouquet of red and white roses. “In that case, he’s waiting for you, Miss Stark. Are you ready?”
Toni’s fingers curled around the bouquet with a wide grin. “More than you know, Miss Waltham. Let’s get going.”
CLACK! CLACK! CLACK! CLACK!
Steve’s black dress shoes echoed through the corridor of the Venetian’s gondola station as he paced, waiting for his future wife. He didn’t think this life was possible before. He had always hoped for it, but between the war and the ice, then the whole Avengers thing, it was almost for the best that he didn’t settle down. How could he share such a dangerous life with someone and put them at risk, give them nightmares and anxieties?
That isn’t to say he didn’t date. There was that cute coffee waitress in Brooklyn, a couple women he met at the gym here and there, and of course Sharon. Sharon he could have possibly settled down with, but their dynamic was never quite like what he shared with Toni.
The thought of the billionaire made a warm smile dance over his lips as he continued pacing. He had read her file prior to jumping on the Helicarrier during Loki’s attacks, and initially wrote her off as a spoiled, pompous brat. They were at each other’s throats initially more than once, but then when they figured out how to build a team dynamic? Everything ran almost as smooth as silk.
Almost. There was that little matter of the Sokovia Accords and then the big secret about Bucky. Who could forget the Moscow battle and then all this garbage with Thanos, and how Toni was almost lost to the cosmos? Yeah. Almost as smooth as silk.
“Captain.”
The male voice broke Steve from his thoughts, effectively halting his pacing as he glanced over to the large white and gold gondola. Near the bench reserved for the lovebirds stood a dark-haired man, dressed in a black and white striped shirt with black dress slacks and a red scarf around his neck. He was giving the super soldier a smirk. “Cap, buddy, you’re gonna put a hole through the floorboards if you keep pacin’ like that.”
Baby blue eyes glanced down at the dark oak of the platform, and a chuckle reverberated through his chest. “I’m sorry. Suppose I’m just a little excited to finally be marrying my gal.”
The man gestured to the seat in front of him. “Why don’t you climb aboard? I’m sure she’ll be down any minute.”
Steve did as he was asked, stepping into the gondola carefully before taking a seat on the bench across from the gondolier. He wasn’t even seated 10 seconds before his leg began bouncing, rocking the whole boat.
A bell jingled by the station then, and the gondolier beamed at the captain once more before placing his hand on his shoulder. “And here she is.”
Steve nearly jumped from the bench, and the boat weaved on the water under the sudden shift in weight. He murmured an apology before turning his attention to the end of the dock, where a white and gold door creaked open agonizingly slowly. He expected to see her hiding behind the door, but when it finished opening, all Steve could see was a faux stained glass window and a wine-colored carpet. He huffed in aggravation. If he had to wait any longer to see his wife, he was going to go bonkers. Leave it to Toni to tease him, even at their own wedding.
When she finally came into view, Steve’s heart swelled. She was truly a vision in the simplistic ivory gown she wore, and he couldn’t drink her in enough. The way her hair was pinned back from her face, how just the slightest makeup made her glow, she was absolutely stunning...and about to truly be all his.
The way those pools of blue raked over her figure made Toni blush and glance off to the side before fixating her attention back on the soldier in front of her. He looked like he just stepped out of a post-World War II photo. Over his broad shoulders and proportional torso rested a dark greenish-brown dress Army jacket, complete with pristine brass buttons, buckles and his various military distinctions. His undershirt was just a shade different, his collar buttoned under his chin with a gold tie hugging his neck. His dress slacks were the same greenish-brown as his jacket, pressed with a crease down the center of his legs. His beeline honey hair was coiffed in a very neat, very 1940s style. He looked delicious, and it took all of Toni’s strength as she approached the boat to not jump his bones right there in front of God and everybody. Judging from his stance and the vibes he was giving off, it was safe to say he felt the same about her.
A sly smirk made the corners of her lips curl upward. Oh, she was going to have fun with this.
When she approached the end of the dock, Steve flashed her a toothy grin as he offered her a helping hand. “Good evening, Miss Stark. Lovely night for a wedding.”
Her eyes rolled, her tendrils shaking slightly with her head before she took his hand and stepped into the gondola. “I would agree, Captain Rogers,” she purred out, adding just enough emphasis on his title. It drove him wild when she did that. With how small the blue rings around his pupils were getting, she would say it was having just the right effect. Her smile widened before she adjusted her dress as they both took a seat on the bench in front of the gondolier.
Once they were comfortably seated, they were joined by an older gentleman holding a tome, and a mousy brunette with a camera. Once everyone was seated and comfortable, the gondolier untied the boat from the dock, pushing off to float through the Venetian’s stunning canals.
After a moment, the older gentleman cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses before he opened the book in his hands. “Miss Stark, Captain Rogers, it is my honor to be with you today as you-”
Toni readjusted her dress so it showed enough skin on her leg for Steve to take notice. When she took a peek from under her lashes at him, she could tell she succeeded.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to the shell of the ear of the woman beside him. “Doll, what’re you doing to me?”
A playful smirk danced over the genius’ painted lips before she feigned innocence, flashbulb going off in her face from the photographer. “I assure you, Captain,” she cooed against his ear, blowing against his lobe for added effect. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
He grinned before nipping at her ear gently. “Sure, sure. That’s why you bought the dress with the slit in it and prolonged your appearance at the dock. That’s fine, sweetheart. Keep toying with me. See where that gets you.”
She whined softly, just audible enough to hear between the two of them before she whispered back, “Hopefully pinned against a window as you make me see stars...and I'm not talking about the ones in the sky.”
“Oh, good! You two are facing each other. Let us get to the vows, hmm?”
Steve smirked before pulling both of Toni’s delicate hands in his, his eyes meeting hers. The connection between them was always strong before, but this time it was different. There was a stronger magnetic pull. She could’ve sworn he was looking right past her and deep into her soul.
“Captain Rogers, repeat after me, will you?”
The genius tuned out the words as the officiant said them, but paid perfect attention to the captain in front of her.
“I, Captain Steven Rogers, take thee, Natasha Stark, to be my lawfully wedded wife...to have and to hold, from this day forward...for better, for worse...for richer, for poorer...in sickness and in health...to love and to cherish...till death do us part. I pledge myself to you."
Tears pricked the edge of the woman’s eyes, but she didn’t allow them to fall, even with waterproof makeup on. Instead, she wiggled in her seat to adjust herself before reciting her part of the vows.
“I, Natasha Stark, take thee, Captain Steven Rogers, to be my lawfully wedded husband...to have and to hold, from this day forward...for better, for worse...for richer, for poorer...in sickness and in health...to love and to cherish...till death do us part. I pledge myself to you."
The older gentleman grinned at the two before reaching for a small velvet silver pouch in his pocket. He jammed his finger through the drawstring opening and pried it open before extending his arm to the couple. “The rings.”
Steve let Toni reach in first and dig around for his wedding ring, a modest gold band. She held it in her grasp as he pulled out her ring, a thinner gold band with alternating diamonds and rubies on it. The smile never left his face as he slipped the wedding ring over her left ring finger, resting it on top of the engagement ring.
“Natasha, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love. As it encircles your finger, may it remind you always that you are surrounded by my enduring love.”
Her thumb brushed over the cool metal of the band as she played with it. Her chest felt full, and not of shrapnel this time. Instead, it was full of love, so much so that it was spilling over through her eyes in the form of tears. She took a small gulp of air before she responded, “I will wear it gladly. Whenever I look at it, I will remember this momentous day and the vows we have made.”
The super soldier’s left hand cupped her cheek, a thumb brushing away the water streaking down before she took his hand and slipped the gold band down his left ring finger as well.
“Steven,” she whispered, taking another ragged breath before she continued, “I have for you this golden ring, a most precious metal that symbolizes your love and how it’s the most precious element in my life. The ring is a loop, with no beginning and no end, symbolizing that our love will never cease. I place it on your finger as a visible sign of the vows that have made us husband and wife.”
Her new husband jolted forward eagerly, ready to seal the deal with his bride before the officiant cleared his throat again as a warning. There was still one more part of the ceremony to be completed before they could get to the grand finale.
The officiant straightened his posture before his chest heaved in a big sigh and he closed his book. “Captain Rogers...Miss Stark...by the power vested in me by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife!”
There was a mass amount of cheering ringing through their ears, and suddenly Toni and Steve weren’t in their own world anymore. They both glanced up as the gondola passed under a pedestrian bridge where several people had been watching their ceremony. The flash from the camera simulated a strobe light as the photographer took what felt like 200 photos a minute. Had they really tuned everyone out except each other and the officiant this whole time?
“Now, Captain, you may kiss the bride,” the officiant teased with a wink.
Steve wasted no time at all, his strong hand wrapping around Toni’s waist and tugging her so her torso was practically in his lap. She squeaked before barking out a laugh.
“C’mere, Mrs. Stark-Rogers,” he growled out. His lips crushed against hers almost bruisingly, like he was a man starved for her. With how long he waited for this, for her, he might as well have been.
Toni melted into the kiss, turning into liquid in his arms as she pressed her lips against his in return. His tongue swiped against her lower lip, seeking entrance which she granted. The kiss lasted only a moment more (because Toni was truly worried she was going to snap at the older officiant if he cleared his throat one more time). When the two broke apart, even as they caught their breath, they couldn’t help but grin wildly at one another.
It was only a short time later when the gondola came full circle and docked at the station. The newlyweds were both yearning to get on with the wedding night festivities, but were whisked away by the photographer and wedding planner for photos. After an hour and a half of posing at various property locations followed by a half hour of additional paperwork to wrap everything up, the happy couple were finally dismissed to begin their new life together, to which they both immediately rushed to the hotel tower elevator.
“No party, no dancing, no having to mingle with a million and two guests, and we managed to stay under a $20,000 budget, Captain,” Toni teased, her feet slipping in and out of her shoes anxiously. “That’s the best wedding ever, if you ask me.”
He snorted, eyes fixated on the digital number of the hotel elevator as it kept climbing. “What made it the best wedding ever was that you were there, Mrs. Stark-Rogers.”
Her new name made a chill run up and down her spine, causing her to shiver pleasurably. “Oooh,” she purred, leaning her head against the back of the elevator car. “Is this what it’s like when I call you by your title?”
He couldn’t help but chortle at his lover as he bent down to give her a sweet peck on the cheek, leaving him in perfect position to whisper, “If this damn elevator would hurry the hell up, I plan on showing you exactly what it’s like.”
She twisted her head and captured her husband’s lips eagerly, her teeth nipping on his lower lip and eliciting a groan from the super soldier. His arms curled around her frame as he deepened their embrace, the numbers just ticking by on the ride up to their floor.
They almost didn’t hear the bell ding to signal that the car had finally arrived on their floor. Toni broke away from the kiss first, and was about to wiggle free from Steve’s grasp when a small animalistic growl ripped from his throat, his right arm hooking under her legs and hoisting her up bridal style as he carried her through the corridor.
“Y’know this is reserved for the actual threshold, right?” she amusedly scolded.
“Y’know...I don’t care,” he retorted, an ear-to-ear grin on his face as he strode towards their room. “I don’t care what threshold it’s supposed to technically be. I’ll do this over every one if I have to just to show everyone that you are my wife. Mine.”
They reached their room door a moment later, and she yanked the keycard from one of Steve’s lapel pockets. She slid it in the lock, waiting for a green light and click of the deadbolt before twisting the knob, aiding the super soldier out since his hands were otherwise occupied. He nudged the door open with his foot and took two enormous steps in, effectively crossing that threshold. He set his bride down momentarily to lock the door.
They both stepped further into their luxury suite from the foyer, and were taken aback in surprise. In the bedroom portion of the room, the spacious queen bed was freshly made, red rose petals littering the white cotton bedspread and pillows. On top of the rich mahogany dresser across from the foot of the bed sat two crystal champagne flutes with a large aluminum bucket in between, the pail filled with ice and a bottle of champagne nestled inside. The elegant beige curtains in the step-down living area were tied back with a thick red rope. A white sheer curtain draped over the window was the only thing protecting the room from getting more light glare from the bustling Las Vegas Strip below.
“Guess they needed that extra time from the photos to go ahead and do all this,” Iron Woman murmured, taking in the work of the wedding planner and the guest room attendants. She was still admiring their handiwork when she felt soft lips brush over the sensitive area where her collarbone and neck connected, causing her to tilt her head to the side and grant Steve easier access.
“Probably. That...and it was all just one big tease. It was torture, having to wait so long to get you back here to ravish you,” he gruffed, voice low and husky as his hands skimmed up the curvy sides of his bride before they danced back down again, both hands resting firmly against her rear and giving that area a squeeze. “Doll...I think you’re wearing way too many layers for my liking.”
A trill of a giggle left her throat as she shifted out of her heels and kicked them to the side. Craning her neck, she made eye contact with him from her peripheral. “Then do something about it, Captain.”
The guttural snarl that emanated from him as he nipped at her shoulder caused heat to shoot down and pool in her stomach. His calloused fingers fumbled at the top of her dress, trying to feel if she had a hidden clasp or anything he had to be concerned with. When he realized it was just a zipper, his lips skirted over the center of her shoulder blades. He tugged on the tiny metal piece, the teeth eliciting a perfect noise as they split apart, exposing more of her to him. As more skin revealed itself, he peppered it with a trail of kisses leading to the base of the zipper, resting right at the small of her back. He shoved the silk of the gown aside on the right just enough to be able to nibble her hip.
“Recite our words for me, love.”
She sighed as he kissed a trail back up her spine. “If we say ‘lime’, then everything’s good.”
A kiss to her left shoulder.
“‘Lemon’ means we take things slow.”
One to her right.
“And ‘cranberry’ means we need to stop.”
His fingers hooked under either strap of her dress as his lips skirted over the junction of her neck and collarbone again, taking the skin between his teeth and suckling gently. “And where are we at now?”
The gesture caused Iron Woman to pant slightly, arousal pooling further near her core. “Lime, lime, lime, Steve. Dear God, it’s lime,” she hissed, flustered at his agonizingly gradual pace.
A soft chuckle, and with a flick of his wrists the bodice of her dress fell around her waist, exposing her torso to the cool air in the hotel suite. Her fingers propelled it over her hips quickly, allowing all the silk to pool on the floor at her feet. She was bared completely to him, save for her white lace bra and matching cheeky panties. Her fingers reached back and found the clasp of the bra, yanking the hooks free and letting the garment fall to the floor. Rotating on her heel, she smirked at her husband playfully, head tilted in an innocent gesture.
“What is it?” he inquired, eyes focused on the bounce of her chest and the perkiness of her nipples in the brisk air.
“Well, Captain,” she breathed, her hands fiddling with his jacket collar as she leaned forward, her chest pressing against him suggestively, “It seems now that you’re the one wearing too many layers.”
His irises were practically non-existent, pupils blown wide with lust. They were fixated on her, affectionate yet stern, a look Toni knew all too well. “Then you should take care of the issue.”
It wasn’t a playful suggestion. It was a command.
Immediately, she went to work. Her digits curled around the fabric tucked in the buckle of his belt, tugging at the material and sliding it through the brass buckle until the entire belt fell away from him. She batted her eyes up at him before toying with the bottom button of the jacket, causing it to break away from the hole. Every move was deliberately measured, formulated to get him more hot and bothered than he already was. She could tell that much from his gaze and the growing bulge in his slacks, which she would brush against nonchalantly every so often.
He rolled his head side to side in aggravation. “Fucking hell, doll. What’re you doing to me?”
“Language, Cap,” she chided as she worked on the next button up. “Good things come to those who wait.”
“You and I both wrote the book on waiting, Toni.”
“And look what came of it,” she countered, flashing her left hand at him before starting on the next button. “Patience is a virtue, and you, my dear...sweet...loving husband, are supposed to be the very definition of the word.”
His chest shook once with a sarcastic snort. “I won’t be very virtuous with you tonight, I guarantee it.”
The connotation in his warning only added fuel to her internal fire. She finished the last button on the jacket and pushed the offensive layer over his shoulders, folding it neatly in her arms before tossing it gently onto a nearby chair. When she focused back on the captain, he already had his tie loosened, and the first button undone of his undershirt. “Feeling a little pent up, are we?”
He swooped down and captured her lips with his own hungrily, fidgeting with some of his buttons while she worked on the others. “I...want...to...claim...my...wife,” he uttered out between fervent lip locks. “You’ve been...a little minx...long enough.” He yanked the golden tie over his head as she jerked away the fabric of the undershirt, his rippling muscles exposed to the air. Her fingers tugged at the waistline of his dress slacks as she aimed to give his expanding tent some relief. He caught her wrist, the satin of the tie still in his grasp dusting over her.
“Turn.”
She didn’t hesitate in obeying, pivoting on her heel until her back was to him. Her hands clasped behind her expectantly, but he surprised her when the fabric settled over her eyes instead. Her vision blackened, she could only feel Steve’s arm extend in front of her.
“How many fingers do you see?”
It was a bit of a trick question. The correct answer was “none,” because he should have her blinded properly. If she answered anything else, he would spank her. Well, since she had been a temptress all day…
“Three.”
She could hear the aggravated exhale of her husband as he retracted his limb. There was a minuscule rush of air that fanned her ass before the crack of skin-on-skin contact echoed through the room and her ears. She yelped softly as pain radiated through her right cheek. When she was about to reach back to alleviate the pain, the captain fired two more swats in quick succession, his lips grazing the shell of her ear.
“You wanna try that again, doll?”
Her fingers went to reach back again, but he flicked her hand away with his own. She wouldn’t be getting any comfort without giving him an answer, and she was nothing if not consistent. “I saw three,” she reiterated.
Another irritated huff before he smacked her thrice more in the same place. Her pearly whites sunk into her lower lip as she whimpered.
“You know I can do this all damn night, Natasha.”
Oh, her full first name. She must have really ruffled his feathers. Deciding to give a little bit in their game, she whispered, “Nothing. I saw nothing, and I still see nothing.”
“So you lied to me?”
Oh, fuck.
SLAP!
“Fuuuuuck, Steve!” she hissed, craning her head toward the man behind her. “Seriously?!”
A strong arm wrapped around her shoulders and applied a bit of pressure, signaling for her to face him completely. His hand cupped her chin, keeping her face in place as he closed the distance between them. “You’re damn right, ‘seriously.’ I told you I was anxious to marry you, hungry to make you my wife and claim you as truly mine. I thought you were anxious too, but you’ve done nothing but torment me all day.”
She chuckled and rolled her shoulders in a shrug. “What can I say? It’s one of the reasons why you fell in love with me.” Hopeful that she was being charming enough to get her out of any trouble, she arched on her tiptoes and pursed her lips, waiting for him to close the inch of space between them with a smooch.
She could feel his face moving closer. He was just about to close the gap completely when he clicked his tongue disapprovingly, his nose brushing against hers affectionately. “Huh uh,” he taunted, “Good girls get rewards. Bad girls get punishments. Get on the bed and scoot up until you get to the headboard and hold onto it.”
A rush of air flirted with her ass again. He was ready to swat at her. Instinctively, she flinched. He instead clapped a hand on the tender area, moving to the left and right in a rough rubbing motion.
“Don’t you dare even think about making me wait long, either.”
With the weight of his warning, she didn’t want to. She knew what happened when she pushed Steve’s buttons just enough, and that gravel in his voice told her he was right on that cusp. Plus, she was actually aching to see what he had in store for her. That ache is what propelled her to clamber onto the plush mattress and fumble her way to the headboard. Her hands found the metal bar instantly, digits curling around the cool brass as she flipped herself to sit reclined against the pillows, facing him. From across the room where their luggage was, she could hear the zip of one of their suitcases. She only hoped it was the suitcase she was thinking of, the thought of its contents making her body tremble in anticipation.
There was a sudden warmth on her left side, and she knew her lover had returned. The weight of the bed shifted as he braced a knee against the mattress, hovering over her. Something coarse wound around the skin of her wrists, and instantly she knew it was one of the rope coils she packed.He was meticulous, wrapping the coil around either wrist and crossing it at the middle before wrapping the coil around the bronze bar of the headboard. He repeated the process three times before knotting the cord. There was a slight tug at the knot, and then his fingers slipped under the rope between it and her wrists, making sure it was loose enough for her to wiggle or twist without worry of burns or cuts. Her joints rolled in demonstration to him, showing that she was restrained securely yet safely. A brush of his thumb over her knuckles was a loving gesture and a silent thank you for the confirmation.
There was an emptiness then beside her then, and she realized he must have retreated from the mattress. Two soft metallic thunks echoed through her ears, the bed shifting from something tugging on the frame. He was securing different coils at the foot of the bed. Her suspicions were confirmed when his hand plucked her left ankle and spread her leg as far as would be comfortable for her, the rope winding around the area soon after. He repeated the process with her right leg before slipping his fingers between her and the rope once more. She again rolled her joints. Instead of his fingers giving her loving acknowledgement, however, his lips found purchase with the top of her right foot, then her left.
She sighed contently and arched in the air as he kissed trails up either side of her legs. A kiss to the shin...right below the knee...to the inside of her knees...above the knee on her thigh. Her chest rose with a sharp intake of air as he made his way up towards that sweet spot she yearned for him to touch, the fire insider her raging hotter than ever. “Steve…”
Against the inside of her thigh, she could feel a sly smirk pull at his lips. Without acknowledging her, his tongue slipped past his lips and lapped affectionately against the sensitive flesh of her thigh, leaving a minor stripe in its wake. He pulled back just enough to purse his lips and blow against the wet area, causing an intense tingling sensation to shoot straight to her core. Her body jerked a bit in response.
“Oh, fuck, Stevie,” she keened, hips pushing off on the mattress. She could only hope she was thrusting closer towards his mouth.
His palms braced against her hips and jostled softly, keeping her in place as he nipped at the area he had just licked in warning. “That’s Captain to you, Mrs. Stark-Rogers.”
A fervent nod of her head was her answer as she wiggled under his grasp. He applied the same ministrations to the inside of her other thigh, this time dangerously close to her center. She could feel the heat of his head right there, so tantalizingly close yet so dreadfully far in the same distance.
“Captain, Captain, Captain, Captain…”
The title was a mantra off her lips. She could feel her arousal pooling between her legs, and she bent her limbs just the smallest amount to edge him closer toward the grand prize.
Her attempts didn’t go unnoticed as his fingers dipped from her hips down through the valley of her pelvic frame conjoining her torso with her legs, tickling her and brushing just the very edge of her core. The movements caused her to mewl desperately, hips thrusting up once more.
The super soldier let out a seductive chuckle as he rested his head on her thigh. His breath washed over her sex, causing her to huff and writhe against her bonds.
“Oh, my darling, beautiful wife,” he cooed. “I told you...only good girls get rewards. Besides, aren’t you the one who said that good things come to those who wait?”
Behind the silk of the tie, her eyes widened at his implication. She had to maintain her poker face, though, so she offered him a cool smile. “Oh please, Captain. You told me you couldn’t wait to get me back here. Do you honestly expect me to believe you’re doing all this just to leave me hanging?”
He hummed in response. “I’m not going to completely leave you hanging.”
Her head cocked to the side, and she felt the mattress shift under his weight again as he moved to grab something he must have put off to the side. When he returned, his calloused fingers ran over the top of her pelvis, thumb hooking into the top right edge of her thong. He pulled the fabric aside, and she shivered as the breezy air feathered over her slickness. He didn’t give her long to adjust before a conical silicone item pressed against her glistening center. With a little extra push and help from how soaked she was, the toy slid into her easily, filling her just enough. Part of the toy curled against the bundle of nerves just above that area, rubbing against it in the most delicious way. She couldn’t help but moan at the feeling, shifting to adjust herself.
A small click from the foot of the bed, and a low, pulsating vibration shook the toy. The billionaire tossed her head back, keening in pleasure. The bed shifted again before Steve’s presence was on her left side again, hand caressing her cheek.
“I’m not going to completely leave you hanging,” he repeated. “No. Instead, I’m going to drive you to the brink and back...again...and again...and again. You won’t get to cum unless I give you permission. Meanwhile...I believe the Patriots just started their first quarter. I think I’m going to catch a little football while you think about what you did to me today.”
She huffed in aggravation, body twisting as the toy vibrated against her insides and her clit.
The captain swooped down and locked her lips with his own, their teeth and tongues clashing in a lust-laden kiss. “Maybe if you’re a good girl for me and serve out your punishment until halftime, you might just get a reward,” he offered.
“F-First quarter…?! Halftime...ugh, Captain!” she whimpered. “What are you doing to me?”
“Doing my beautiful bride in Vegas,” he snickered. “That is what you wanted, after all.”
#becaamm#Natasha Stark#Toni Stark#Tony Stark#Fem!Tony Stark#Iron Man#Iron Woman#Captain America#Steve Rogers#Stony#Stoni#Marvel#Marvel Cinematic Universe#MCU#Marvel Comics#steve rogers x tony stark#Steve Rogers x Fem!Tony Stark#steve rogers x toni stark#Steve Rogers x Natasha Stark#Smut#fluff#fanfic#fanfiction#MNT writing#Avengers
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4 Visits Peggy Carter Received That We Missed - Peggy Carter Oneshot
A/N: Hi my lovelies, so day 1 of my break is going great. I wrote a oneshot. lol. Told you I wan’t going to be able to last long. This one has been kicking around for a while. I hope you enjoy it. A bit angstier than my usual style but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
Summary: 4 People visit Peggy besides Steve. Who are they and what do they talk about
Warnings: Angst, Alzheimer’s, implications of trauma
Genre: Angst/Comfort
Word Count: 1025
1.
“Hey, Aunt Peggy,” Sharon greeted with a bright smile as she leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.
“Sharon, sweetheart. How are you?”
“I’m good.”
“Any exciting missions lately?”
She shrugged, “The normal recon. Nothing terribly exciting.”
“And how about that cute boy in your building you were telling me about? Did you ask him out yet?”
“No. He’s still just a cute boy in my apartment building,” she chuckled.
Peggy tutted. “What are you waiting for?”
“I mean my life is so complicated. I don’t think that he could deal with who I really am,” she admitted sadly.
“If he can’t, he’s not worth it. Remember this, my darling, you must always know your worth.”
Sharon smiled and squeezed her hand.
“I know, Aunt Peggy.”
“I’m so proud of you.”
2.
“You know. You made this job look easy.”
“It is easy. When you do it right,” she smirked at the man with the eye patch.
“We both know that’s a lie,” he argued, looking out the window restlessly.
“Easier then. Looking over your shoulder constantly is exhausting. It helps when you have someone watching your back.”
“I have people watching my back. But I’ve got to look a lot further over my shoulder to see all the dangers.”
“Yes, but you seem even more on edge today. Something on your mind?”
“Why did you choose me?”
“Bogota,” she answered.
“What did that have to do with anything?”
“The Director of SHIELD answers to the World Security Council officially, but you and I both know how many decisions are made in an hour that could alter the fate of the world. When I decided to retire I knew that I needed to choose someone who would say bollocks to the rules when the occasion demanded it. Not to mention you had a knack for putting together teams. I could only imagine what you’d accomplish with your pick of candidates.”
3.
“Tony, my love, how good to see you. You didn’t have to come all the way out here to see me.”
“Of course I did. This place is far too drab. Which is why I brought you these,” he smiled and produced a large bouquet from behind his back.
“Always such a charmer,” she laughed, before coughing slightly.
He helped her take a drink of water. And after replacing the flowers from the week before, Tony sank into the seat next to her.
“How are you?”
“Some days are better than others. Today is a good day.”
“You know, I could move you to a better facility. I could move you home. Have the best medical staff come in to see you.”
“There’s nothing to be done, my love. And I’m comfortable here.”
“You could be closer to me. And Steve.”
A sad smile crossed her face as she heard the tightness in his voice.
“You two still aren’t getting along I take it.”
Tony pouted petulantly.
“He’s like the big brother I could never compare to and never wanted.”
“Sometimes I wish I could lock the two of you in a room together so you could work out your issues. Or better yet, just knock your heads together.”
“I just don’t understand what’s so great about him. I know he saved the world but…”
“Steve is a good man. Like you are. He may cast a long shadow that Howard worshipped in, but try to remember. Howard felt an inexplicable amount of guilt after he died. He felt that he failed him in life and in death. He spent much of his life trying to ease that guilt. He let it consume him, but your father’s… obsession isn’t Steve’s fault.”
“I know but he’s so righteous all the time,” Tony huffed, sinking further in his chair.
“You know, if he hadn’t gone down with the plane, he likely would have been Uncle Steve to you.”
“That’s a truly terrifying thought.”
“Try to get to know his as a man and not as a legend. Then you can come complain about him. Lord knows he has his flaws.”
“All right. I’ll try.”
“Good boy.” She started coughing more violently this time, and again Tony offered her water. However this time, when she looked up to thank him, a wry smile took over. “Howard, you really do need to shave.”
Not for the first time, Tony cursed his likeness to his father, but he buried the heartbreak.
“You know the deal, Peg. I’ve got to be in style.”
4.
It was late, long after dark when she heard movement. The last orderly had clocked out thirty minutes ago, and even if he hadn’t he wouldn’t be lurking in the corner. Silently she reached down and grabbed the small gun she kept stashed.
“I’m old but I’m still sharp. Get out of that corner and show yourself or you’re getting a bullet in the brain.”
The dark-haired man stepped out of the shadows, clear blue gaze showing a mix of emotions.
“Sergeant Barnes?” she whispered as she stared at the almost familiar face.
Confusion clouded his expression and he shut his eyes before nodding.
“What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know,” he almost cried. She knew he was talking about more than his visit. “I should go,” he muttered to himself.
“Please stay. Do you lose time too?”
He nodded again, remaining in the corner, and taking a seat in the shadows.
She spoke at him for a time. He didn’t respond, but she didn’t mind. At times she would speak of their brief time together, trying to get him to remember. Other times she would talk about the present.
“I know it’s not fair of me to ask you for anything. But do me a favor anyway?” She yawned.
He nodded hesitantly.
“Get yourself back to Steve. He needs you. Lord knows what kind of trouble he can get into without one of us dragging his stubborn ass out of the fire.”
A ghost of a smile lit up his features.
“The punk never did know when to leave a fight.”
“Do your best to get back to him Promise.”
“I swear.”
A/N: So yeah, just some scenes that I think should have (i.e. did happen in my head canon) And I wanted to share. I hope you enjoyed. Thanks so much for reading! I love you!
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Hospital Visits – Tom Holland Imagine
A/N: I was inspired by the gifs of Tom visiting those children in the hospital. He’s such a lovely human being so I wrote this. Warnings: None, just fluff
Every Tuesday and Thursday you would volunteer at one of the big hospitals in your city. You felt that you had so much to give and helping cheer the kids in the pediatric wing seemed like the perfect thing to do. All the children were so lovely and you loved spending time with them. One of your favourite things to do was seeing their cute little facial expressions when their idols came to meet them. Plus, it was super fun to meet some of your favourite actors and musicians.
This particular Thursday was one of those days. The kids were almost jumping up and down in excitement. The kids who were healthy enough to get out of bed were gathered in the play room to meet one of the Marvel superheroes.
“Y/N! Did you hear who’s coming today?” One of little girls asks excitedly.
“No sweetie I didn’t. Do you know?” You crouch down to her level and she gives you a big smile.
“Yes! But it’s a secret. Nurse Olivia told me.” You fake gasp and look around, pretending to make sure that no one was listening.
“Can you tell me? I promise I won’t tell anyone.” You whisper to the little girl. She nods her head quickly and leans in closer to whisper in your ear.
“It’s Spiderman!!!” she squeals.
“Wow! That’s so exciting.” You exclaim, now just as excited as the four-year old standing next to you.
“Okay everyone, your special guest is on his way up so gather around” One of the nurses says trying to wrangle all the kids together. Your heart starts to beat 10x faster at the thought of being in the same room as Tom Holland. You’ve been crushing on him since Civil War, so this was a dream come true. You helped the nurses calm the kids down a bit, glancing at the door every few seconds to see if Tom had arrived.
As you were helping a little boy sit in a chair some of the kids let out cute little “hey’s” and some even squeals. Your head whips to the door and you stop breathing for a second. Tom looks even better in his spidey suit in person.
“Hey kids! Who’s ready to have some fun?” The kids all yell out ‘me’ and Tom laughs. He takes off the Spiderman mask and ruffles his hair. His smile gets even bigger as he comes closer to the kids and starts interacting with them.
After 40mins of Tom playing and talking with the kids the nurses announced that it’s time for them to eat then rest. As they filed out to get back to their rooms, you stay back to help clean-up the play room. You start putting away some of the toys left lying on the ground and you hear someone coming up to you.
“Excuse me, do you know where these go?” You turn around to see Tom smiling and holding a bunch of kid’s toys. He had picked them up to help you clean.
“Y-yeah, you can put them in any of the bins over there.” You point to the row of colourful bins overflowing with toys. He thanks you and goes over to the bin.
“So, do you work here?” Tom asks, walking up to you again.
“No, I volunteer here twice a week. The kids are just so great to be around.” You reply smiling.
“That’s amazing! They seem so lovely.” He grins at you and then sighs. “I wish I had the time to come and visit more often.”
“You’re a busy guy, you shouldn’t feel bad about it. Just come back when you have time. I’m sure the kids would love it, even if it’s months later.” You reassure him.
“Thank you darling. That’s very kind of you to say.” He replies making you blush.
“No need to thank me, it’s just the truth. These kids look up to you so much and meeting you just the one time has already made such a huge impact in their lives.” Tom looks at you admiring how happy you looked talking about the kids.
“I really appreciate that.” He says softly. You both pause for a second, creating a comfortable silence. “I don’t think I got your name earlier?”
“Oh, its Y/N.”
“That’s a pretty name. Well, Y/N I’m Tom, if you didn’t already know that.” He gives you a cheeky smile and puts his hand out. You giggle and shake his hand.
“Nice to you officially meet you Tom.”
“I know I just got your name but I have to leave soon. Could I get your number?” he asks shyly. You blush and nod. He takes out his phone and hands it to you. After putting your number in and handing his phone back to him, his manager comes in saying that it was time to go.
“It was lovely meeting you, hopefully I can see you soon?”
“You too and of course I’d love to see you again.” You smile at him and he returns your smile. He hesitantly takes two steps closer to you and quickly kisses you on the cheek. Your blush deepens as he backs away.
“Goodbye love.”
“Bye Tom.” When he walks out of the play room you give a small squeal and let out a sigh. You knew today was going to be amazing.
Masterlist | Prompt List
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#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland x y/n#tom holland oneshot#tom imagine#missywrites
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Possible Spider-person: Anya Corazon
Author’s note: Okay, this took longer than expected because of Anya’s overall story, my intolerance of bad comic book writing, and my OCD tendencies to literally focus on anything else. As an experienced reader, I can tell if this is someone’s first time writing a comic book. It not what I think of Anya as a character. She is a cool character. It’s just Avery seems..clueless of the bad habits she committed when she introduced Anya to the world. Habits like not telling you character’s names immediately when they appear on panel or in issue, convoluted origin which is killer for new characters, and no grasp for setting. I promise to be more expedient in the next two Spider-people.
In Spider-verse, it has been said that there will be multiple Spider-people in the film along with Miles Morales and Peter Parker. And that is cool. Already talked about Spider-Gwen aka Ghost-Spider, which I do kind of feel bad about because I also wrote subsequent post about why I don’t like her that quickly overshadowed the post objectively appreciating her. Luckily, I have no such reservations about the next Spider-person I am talking about today: Anya Corazon. She is the hero formerly known as Arana and now known as Spider-girl.
Like Miles, Anya is Brooklyn born. She is Boricua and Mexican American. Her father is an investigative journalist and her mother is missing and left nothing but a locket which Anya covets.Anya attends Milton Summers Highschool with her best friend Lynn.
From the get-go, Anya is remarkably different from most Spider-people. For one, she is a jock. She is on the school’s gymnastics team and also on the Field Hockey team. Lets not question why this school has a gymnastic’s and field hockey team because that is not important. The important thing here is to realize that Anya is not meek at all. She is the opposite.
If you start shit with her, her family, or her friends, she will fight you. If she can’t lay hands on you right then, she will challenge you later to settle the matter because it won’t be settled until someone, preferably the other person, gets knocked the fuck out. She is “Cash me outside” embodied. She is the personification of this image.
The reason why she is so rowdy is because her mother skipped out on her for reasons that are not immediately explained. So she is raised by her father, Gil Corazon, who tries to instill in her to not be so (ง'̀-'́)ง, but Gil is a single parent whose job is investigative journalism so he is always busy and overwhelmed. Her mother’s last words to Anya were to always be brave, and she interpreted as “Never back down.”
Her pugnacious, or, if you aren’t familiar with that term, “talk shit get hit” personality is precisely why she gets her powers. sees a random stranger in trouble and instead of minding her business like most people, Anya decides to help the person out.
And she gets stabbed in her chest for her trouble. Luckily for her, the guy she tried to save turns out to be a sorcerer or some shit(more on him later), so he is very grateful that she stuck up for him.
So this is Miguel. He was a key character for Anya Corazon. Check the past tense there. After the event, Anya wakes up in her room with spider-webbing all over the place. She goes to school not knowing exactly what happened meanwhile Miguel is shadowing her without her knowing. She wakes up feeling weird with a sweet, but strange blue Spider-tattoo. She has no idea how she got it, but it starts doing strange things.
Eventually Miguel gets Anya involved in his organization, Webcorp. On the surface, Webcorp is a shady private criminal investigations group that assist in fighting other criminal organizations like Syndicates and the like. In reality, they are a magical cult whose totem is the Spider. Their natural enemy is the Society of the Wasp who are for the most part evil magical jackasses who want to eliminate humanity. So the Spiders fight and defend humanity while the Wasps want to destroy it for reasons that are not immediately disclosed to you.
Anya was chosen because there always is a hunter and a mage. Miguel is a mage and Anya is a hunter. What exactly does being a hunter entail?
Something strange, apparently.
After debriefing Anya on the doings of the company and organization she is now working for, Miguel decides it is time for Anya to fully awaken her ability as a hunter. Instead of teaching her and taking time to show her the ropes, Miguel has a rather unorthodox idea of job orientation.
Apparently, Miguel prescribes to the Shounen method of training.
Anya gets stranded in the desert in Mexico. Just like any 15 year old girl, she takes being stranded in the middle of a desert just as well as you’d expect.
Thirst and hallucinations abound, Anya decides to make like Forest Gump and run. Apparently no one told her that making noise and a rather hostile habitat tends to draw unwanted visitors.
Oh fantastic. One day you are ready to square up your school bully and the next, you are in a desert surrounded by ravenous wolves.
So that is the end of Anya Corazon.
I am not joking. She gets ate up by wolves. It’s a whole fucking mess, and it is essentially a cautionary tale that you probably shouldn’t get on a helicopter to Mexico with strange people.
Okay fine.
That is actually quite unique and pretty cool for Spider-people.
So after pissing off PETA tremendously, the Webcorp crew decide to pick up Anya to avoid lawsuits and see if she awakened her power. They find her surrounded by enough wolf corpses to make enough pelts to cover a stadium. They approach her to congratulate her and her response?
So Anya is not officially apart of the hunters and she kicks Wasp Society ass for awhile.
I am going to cap it here because I rather not go into the specifics of how Arana became Spider-girl. Long story short, something happened to Webcorp that made her lose her ability as a Hunter. Miguel died and most of the people involved with Webcorp are gone. Her father was killed. She became Spider-girl with no real super powers until Spider-Island happened in which she gained Peter’s Spider-powers plus the ability to make webs organically(nasty).
Personally, I liked her as Arana more because it was more unique. When she became Spider-girl, I guess the writer forgot everything that made Anya special and pretty much abandoned her narrative. She went on to join obscure superteams like Young Allies, but yeah, that went as well as you’d expect a team of young people would go. Anya is a bit of an OG lasting 12 years, but getting none of the publicity. Shit even Ben Reilly appeared in the Animated Series Spider-man cartoon and he came from one of the worst comic book stories of all-time.
Recently, however, Anya became a main fixture to Marvel’s Spider-man, which I hear is pretty fucking bad, but I don’t know. I don’t watch it. So there is some hope that she may appear in Spider-verse the movie especially if you pay attention to the trailer, you will catch a glimpse of this.
A heart. Corazon is Spanish for heart. She may be in this and honestly, I wouldn’t mind if Anya appeared.
Next is Mayday Parker.
@ubernegro
#Anya Corazon#spider-girl#arana#spider-man: into the spider-verse#miles morales#marvel#Marvel Comics#marvel animated universe#marvel's spider-man
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How Sacrifice Releases Power
For the preaching of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us which are saved it is the POWER OF GOD.
1 Corinthians 1:18
Every sacrifice releases some power! The preaching of the cross is the preaching of sacrifice. It is also the preaching of power. As Christians, we should preach boldly about the cross and what it means.
The Bible tells us in the verse we read, that the preaching of Christ is foolishness to those that are perishing but unto us, it is the power of God.
Every Sacrifice releases spiritual power! This explains why many demonic rituals involve some kind of sacrifice. Various animals and sometimes human beings are sacrificed in rituals, to release power. Occultists make sacrifices. People seeking spiritual power are always asked to sacrifice something.
The king of Moab sacrificed his son when he saw that he was losing a battle with the Israelites:
And when the king of Moab saw that the battle was too sore for him, he took with him seven hundred men that drew swords, to break through even unto the king of Edom: but they could not. THEN HE TOOK HIS ELDEST SON THAT SHOULD HAVE REIGNED IN HIS STEAD, AND OFFERED HIM FOR A BURNT OFFERING UPON THE WALL. And there was great indignation against Israel: and they departed from him, and returned to their own land.
2 Kings 3:26-27
This sacrifice turned away the approaching armies. Power was released by sacrificing the king’s son. This saved the king’s life and the lives of his people. Sacrifice will always release power. Learn this principle - sacrifice will always release power.
The Israelites made God angry because they sacrificed their children to idols for power:
Yea, THEY SACRIFICED THEIR SONS AND THEIR DAUGHTERS UNTO DEVILS, And shed innocent blood, even the blood of their sons and of their daughters, whom they sacrificed unto the idols of Canaan: and the land was polluted with blood.
Psalm 106:37-38
Many pastors and leaders of churches are powerless because they make no sacrifices for the Lord and have no intention to do so.
Some years ago, the Church in Switzerland was very powerful. They sent missionaries to Ghana, even though they could not speak Ghanaian languages. One of these missionaries called Johann Riis translated the Bible into Twi, one of the most widely spoken dialects in Ghana. He also translated 6000 Twi proverbs into English.
Today, there are still Swiss people who speak fluent Twi. They are descendants of the original missionaries.
If I were to send people to certain places for missionary work, there would be an outcry. That is why there is no power in our ministries. There is power only when there is sacrifice!
A lot of power is released, for instance, when you fast. This is because a sacrifice is made when you fast. Fasting is sacrificing your meals. When people give up something for the ministry, power is released.
The early church was so powerful. The more they were martyred, the stronger they became. However, when the Church was accepted officially in Rome, it lost its power. This acceptance removed the need for sacrifice and therefore weakened the Church.
The power of the Church is often increased where there is opposition and much need of sacrifice.
Three Types of Power Released through Sacrifice
a. The power to make people follow you
There is an aura around anyone who makes great sacrifices. He is respected and held in high esteem by people around him. People see this person doing things that they fear to touch. This inspires confidence and stirs up followers to do the same.
Let’s face it: How many of the democratically elected politicians are prepared to die for what they believe? Some of them do not even believe in their own speeches. They read speeches that are written for them and make promises that are not true. I sometimes marvel at how unreal some of these people are. They rarely speak extemporaneously. Tell me, am I lying?
b. The power to convince people
Have you ever wondered why some people are so unconvincing? No one wants to hear what they have to say. Have you asked yourself why some pastors have very few members (followers)? Many politicians claim to love their countries. They talk about their concern for their countries at political rallies and news conferences. Unfortunately, many people do not believe them.
Think about Jesus. He never wrote a book and never published an article. He never campaigned for votes or support. In fact, He constantly told people not to publicize the good things He had done for them.
He never travelled more than two hundred miles from His hometown. He never preached on TV or on radio. He did not build any institutions to His memory! His picture was never on a billboard and He never owned a car.
Yet, the whole world has gone after Him. Two thousand years have gone by and millions still believe in Him. Thousands are converted to Him daily and there are volunteers who are ready to die for Him today.
What is the reason for the long-lasting effect of His ministry? The answer is simple. The sacrifice! The sacrifice of His life on the cross was the most significant spiritual thing that Jesus did on earth. He preached, He taught and healed the sick. However, the eternal fruit was borne when He gave up His life on the cross.
Have you ever wondered why Jesus did not stay around longer than 33 years? When He was threatened why didn’t He travel to Morocco, Algeria, Macedonia or Egypt? Why didn’t He preach for a few more years? Were there no more good works that He could do on earth?
What we need to learn here, is that obedience and sacrifice will bear more eternal fruit than any other good works we do. This one sacrifice for humankind has released so much power into the earth.
This is why millions from all nations believe and follow Him. This is why Jesus focused on sacrificing Himself on the cross. The sacrifice on the cross was the key that would release the power of salvation. No amount of preaching or teaching could replace what would be accomplished on the cross.
c. The power to make people committed
But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ,
Philippians 3:7-8
Many great men and women have left all to follow Jesus. Kathryn Kuhlman had to leave her husband. Not many women would be prepared to leave their husbands.
In one of Kathryn Khulman’s biographies, the author talks about how he had asked Kathryn about her marriage. He said they were alone in a room together when he asked about this chapter of her life. In a rare moment, she began to speak about her former husband and what it had cost her to leave him.
Suddenly, the power of God entered the office. The writer described how he could hardly stand. He said the presence of God came into the room so powerfully that he had to leave. A sacrifice always releases power. Sometimes even talking about the sacrifice releases the power.
I once had an uncanny experience when the holy presence of God walked into my office. I was in conversation with two other pastors when the anointing walked into the room. The three of us suddenly knew that someone had walked in.
Everyone there could feel that He was standing by us. These things are real. I had never had an experience like that.
We have so much knowledge and so little sacrifice. There is power ready to break forth in our lives the moment we make the sacrifice. You will be surprised at how many people will become committed to your cause when you make the sacrifice.
Do People Take You Seriously?
I once asked some pastors, “You preach the same messages that I do, don’t you?” Then I asked them, “Is the impact of your message felt?” They stared at me silently.
I continued, “Because you have not given up anything for what you believe, people do not take you seriously. You may say the same things that I do but if you do not pay the price, you will never make the impact you need to.”
Many preachers are not taken seriously. Many of their statements are ignored. But everything changes when someone pays the price. Every situation changes in the moment that blood is shed.
There was a time when our church was attacked. The people in the community were hostile to us. My young men wanted to fight back and kill the invaders. They wanted us to arm ourselves and launch counter-attacks. But I knew that if someone was killed in the confrontation, the intensity and seriousness of the conflict would change forever. We did not want to shed blood. This is the reason why we did not fight back when our church was attacked. Macbeth said, “Blood will have blood!” Jesus said, “He that comes by the sword will go by the sword.”
You see, the gravity of every situation changes as soon as a sacrifice of someone’s life is made. Where there is no sacrifice, there will be no power. You may have many doctrines and ideas, but without sacrifice you will have no power in your ministry.
You should come to the Lord and ask Him if there is anything He wants from you. You must give yourself as a living sacrifice to Him. There can be no power without a sacrifice. Sacrifices release the power of God in your life.
When there is sacrifice, there is power. This is why suicide bombers are making such an impact in the world today. You would think that these terrorist acts would drive people away from their religion. On the contrary, it stirs up more commitment. Sacrifice attracts more followers.
God told me that He called me to start churches. He has asked me to send people to the corners of the world to start churches. The Lord told me that there are several people who will respond to this call. He told me not to worry about people’s lives but to sacrifice my best sons and daughters on the harvest fields. I tell you, many have responded and are doing great things for the Lord.
God is going to make you sacrifice. He may change your life and change everything about you. He is going to ask you to give up certain things, and as you do, you are going to see His power. When you speak, your words will be taken seriously because of the sacrifices you’ve made.
by Dag Heward-Mills
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