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whocaresstillthelouvre · 6 months ago

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Do You Wanna Touch Me?

Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) Pairing: Marcus Pike x Sex Worker Female Reader Words Count: 4,200 Summary: After getting his heart broken, Marcus Pike takes an assignment in Amsterdam. What started as an exploration of the red light district turns into choosing you, the most beautiful art he's ever seen. Warnings: sex work, erotic dancing, hand job, masturbation, fingering, oral (m receiving), reader wears makeup and a dress, marcus tries to escape his heartbreak, van gogh mentions, reader is college aged, dieter bravo exists in this universe

A/N: This was written for @baronessvonglitter's Fuck-tober birthday celebration. I was assigned Marcus Pike and "Do You Wanna Touch Me" by Joan Jett. Happy birthday Adriana!!! 💕

Here are the songs I refer to in the fic: “Do You Wanna Touch Me” by Joan Jett “Bed Chem” by Sabrina Carpenter “Streets” by Doja Cat “God Is A Woman” by Ariana Grande “Cinema” by Harry Styles “The Night Me and Your Mama Met” by Childish Gambino Masterlist

---

Marcus doesn’t do things like this. He’s a good man, a good son, a good brother, a good friend, and most of all, a good agent. And yet, he still walks down the cobblestone street that’s bathed in red lights.

LIVE SEX SHOW SEX TOYS SEX PALACE HIGH TIMES

What in the world is he doing here? Curiosity, loneliness, being so fucking horny he can’t focus on the case ahead. You’re a good man he tells himself as he ventures deeper into the crimson alleys, the shadow of shame following closely behind him.

“Hey handsome. Today’s your lucky day.” A blonde man winks, handing him a gilded envelope. “You’re invited to Galerij.”

Marcus blinks down at the golden envelope, looking up to find the blonde stranger already gone from his sight. He opens the envelope, revealing a simple invitation with gold embossed text.

Galerij, Amsterdam’s hottest art pieces. €400

He’s a damn FBI agent, and yet he’s too intrigued and desperate for a distraction to say no. He should know better, his badge weighs heavily in his pocket. He plugs the address into his phone with a sigh and makes the quick walk to the address listed, silently atoning for his sins as he passes the Oude Kerk church. He doesn’t dare make eye contact with any of the police officers situated, they might sense his shame.

“You’ve arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice intones. He looks up at the plain brick row home that stands out amongst the surrounding buildings covered in neon lights with windows full of girls in different levels of undress.

A small gold sign hangs above the unassuming black door. GALERIJ

He inhales deeply and pushes the door open. A bell jingles. Inside, an older looking woman with slicked-back blonde hair and a sharp black suit sits behind a desk.

“Nederlands or English?” she asks, her tone clipped.

“English,” he answers, his throat tight. “Please.”

“Invitation?”

“Oh, uh, here,” he hands her the invitation.

Without any more acknowledgment, she gestures to a black leather chair near an intricately carved golden door. “Please take a seat.”

A bit of trepidation blooms within him as he sits down, but when he looks around, he realizes that this isn’t some seedy back-alley brothel. It can’t be that bad if the walls are covered in mahogany and the floor is marble.

The woman makes a quick phone call, speaking in a hushed voice. His palms grow sweaty. What the hell is he doing? This was supposed to be a quick exploration of something that’s always fascinated him… legal vices. Yet now, he's gripping the armrests as the same stern woman brings over a clipboard and card machine.

“Cash or charge?”

“Oh, cash?” he replies quickly, fumbling for his wallet. There’s no way he’s going to use a credit card around here, too many chances of his secret adventure getting revealed on a statement.

“400 euros.”

He opens his wallet and unfolds his money. 100, what are you doing? 200, what are you doing? 300, Marcus, seriously, what are you doing? 350, no seriously what are you doing? 400, damn, you’re really doing it.

Stern woman takes the money and hands him a gold pin with a simple G etched onto it. She hits a small gold bell on her desk, a singular ring sharply echoes across the small room.

He pins the pin to his chest, reminding him of all the times he used to pin the old Met Museum badge to his lapel when he was a young college student in New York. This is so much more different than that, he reminds himself.

The golden door opens after a moment.

A beautiful older woman in a dark burgundy skirt and matching jacket walks out with a smile lifting her dark red lips.

“Welcome to Galerij. I am Maud, the curator.” she greets, offering her hand. “What would you like us to call you here?”

He rises and shakes her hand.

Can’t do Marcus, can’t do Pike, can’t do Agent. He thinks of that one actor everyone tells him he looks like. “Uh–Bravo.”

“Very well, Bravo,” she opens the door, moving aside allowing him to walk through. “Welcome to Galerij.”

He steps into a stark white room. The floor is shiny concrete, a singular white table with two white wishbone chairs sit in the middle of the room, a stark contrast to the entrance room on the other side of the wall. Not exactly what he was expecting. The agent in him can’t help but think this would be a perfect place to kill somebody.

Maud motions for him to sit across from her. “Here you will make your decision on what piece you’d like. Gay or straight?”

He sits down, her question is a reminder as to why he’s really here. “Straight,” he answers, his nerves beginning to creep around him.

She nods. “All of our pieces are tested, clean, and practice safe sex. Your piece will tell you what they will and won’t do once you make your choice. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“You will have twenty minutes, your time will start once you enter your gallery. A bell will ring every five minutes, your final bell will ring twice symbolizing your last five minutes. Do not be late. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Of course no photos or recordings. We ask you to not even have your phone out. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Are you ready?” she asks with a smile on her face.

“I am,” he answers. His heart is pounding.

She nods and presses a button, a shrill buzz echoes through the room. A hidden door opens and a large muscle and tattoo clad man with buzzed black hair and a nose ring walks out carrying a red velvet-covered book. He hands it to Maud, before standing behind her like a silent guardian.

His heart races faster than he ever thought it could when she opens the book and pushes it towards him.

GALERIJ with the day's date is stamped on the thick page.

His fingers tremble as he flips to the first page revealing a photo of an olive skinned and brown haired woman clad in dark blue lingerie with delicate yellow stars embroidered all over it lying on top of swirled silky blue sheets. She’s absolutely stunning.

“This is The Starry Night.”

He nods, turning the page.

A pale skinned, petite woman with shockingly white blonde hair wears a light blue bra and lace panties while laying atop white flower petals. She’s just as beautiful as the first woman.

“This is Almond Blossom.”

He turns the page.

A dark skinned, dark haired woman sits against a yellow wall wearing two sunflower blooms over her ample chest. Her smile is wide, just like her eyes lined with bright gold glitter. She’s gorgeous

“This is Sunflowers.”

They all look like they just walked off the runway, all beautiful and alluring. He wonders what–or who–the next piece will be. He smiles to himself when he realizes they’re all named after Van Gogh. Of course he’d find himself in an art themed brothel… he just can’t escape work.

“Before you see my fourth piece, please know she’s a little different. You cannot touch her, only watch. Don’t let that sway your decision, she is our most popular piece.”

He braces himself as he turns the page.

He loses his breath when he sees you. There you are, sitting cross-legged against the same color wall as Sunflowers. He can just see a glimpse of your nipples under your sheer indigo bra. Your green lined eyes leer at the camera. He thanks all the stars in Starry Night for his chance to even get a look at you. He’s lost in time at how your skin glows against the golden wall.

“Wow,” he breathes out.

“I believe you made your decision,” Maud says with a knowing smile. “This is Irises.”

“Yes,” Marcus swallows, his throat suddenly dry. “Irises please.”

She nods and closes the book. “Pieter, let Irises know.”

“Okay Bravo,” Maud says with a smile and stands. “Pieter will come and get you when Irises is ready. Please do enjoy my gallery.”

“Thank you Maud,” he says, wiping his sweaty hands against the fabric of his jeans.

The fading sound of Maud and Pieter’s steps and a door closing leaves him all alone in the sparse room.

He hopes he looks good enough for you. His dark blue jeans are presentable enough, his plain gray v neck is clean, he thanks himself for spritzing himself with a dash of cologne before leaving his hotel. He knows he paid the equivalent of close to $450 for you to like him, but he still wants to impress you.

He checks his watch, five minutes have passed. He’s too afraid to bring his phone out, so he just stares forward, nervously tapping his foot.

This wasn’t his plan at all, he was just going to explore and sightsee, nothing more. No drugs, no sex, just curiosity.

The door opens. Pieter appears.

“Irises is ready,” he announces, his accent thick. “Follow me.”

He tentatively trails Pieter through the door walking down a hallway lined with doors. Ornate golden frames hang with Van Gogh pieces in each one. They reach the door with Irises hung next to it.

“Twenty minutes,” Pieter says flatly, opening the door. “Sit in the chair. Do not touch. You watch.”

Marcus nods, his heart slamming against his chest. His knees almost buckle as he steps inside the room.

It’s dark, save for a single spotlight shining down on a small stage, a lone purple velvet high back chair sits waiting for him in the middle of it. His shaky legs take him up the three steps before he lowers into it, hands clenching the wide armrests, trying to control his breathing.

He shouldn't be here–-he knows that. It’s too late for regrets now.

The click-clack of your heels echoes through the room when you step onto the stage. He’s too nervous to turn his head to see you. His body tenses, anticipation coiling all of his muscles tight. When you finally step in front of him, he has to remind himself to breathe.

You’re beautiful, the light catches on the sheer fabric of your dress. He can just make out the curves of your body, naked under light lavender chiffon. Your eyes are lined with deep purple eyeliner, ending into a cat eye at the corners. Your ruby red lips curl up into a knowing smile, almost as if you can see his desire for you.

Four thousand miles away from home and he’s just found the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. His cock begins to thicken, the shame of his paid for voyeurism adventure dissolving from his mind. You’re finer than any masterpiece he’s ever had to investigate.

“Hi Bravo,” you purr, your voice smooth and teasing, “Do you wanna touch me?”

He nods and coughs nervously. “Y-yes. But, I can’t.”

A slow, knowing smile spreads across your lips. “Good boy.”

His back tightens, a wave of heat flows down his spine and settles in his lap. For too long he’s disallowed himself from feeling this type of pleasure. Too busy, too sad, too heartbroken. What led him here feels like a blur. An exchange of glances, a subtle wink, an invitation. The black door, €400 out of his wallet, a white room, an open red velvet book, the long hallway, Irises. He allows himself to enjoy the experience just as you send him a wink.

You’re like his own little gallery show standing in front of him. A piece of art he doesn’t just want to see–but memorize.

—

You’ve only been doing this for a few months now. It really is the perfect side hustle to support yourself while finishing your art degree. You’ve been enamored with Van Gogh’s art since you were a child, a lifelong dream realized when you were accepted into the student exchange program at the University of Amsterdam. You made it possible, and now, working two nights a week in between coursework, you're making more than most of your friends earn in an entire week. Of course, only a select few know what you really mean when you say you work at a very exclusive gallery.

It’s a good job. Maud takes good care of you, vetting those who enter her establishment with her keen client recruiters on the streets. Pieter is always a buzz away, though you’ve never felt danger. Everyone needs an escape, some just agree to pay a premium for it. They call it the oldest profession for a reason.

Bravo. He’s your last customer tonight, and they sure did save the best for last. You watched him approach on the security camera, a smile formed when you noticed how much he resembled your favorite actor, you had plans for him. His wide shoulders, broad body, thin beard, and perfect head of hair almost made you think it was him, if it wasn’t for his eyes flickering around the room nervously. There’s no way Dieter Bravo would be anxious in this type of situation.

You press play on the stereo. A quick drumbeat starts, your steps keep tempo with it as you come back to stand in front of your client.

Turning around and bending over, your hips dance to the beat of the song as your hands roam along your curves, lifting your dress to give him a peek of your thighs and ass. A low groan rumbles behind you.

“Do you like what you see?” you ask, slowly turning to face him, moving your hands up and down your body.

“Y-yes,” he stammers, his nervous eyes wide and plush lips parted.

Those same nervous eyes watch as you bunch the fabric of your dress up and take it off, tossing it aside. He eyes you, brows furrowed in concentration, eyes exploring all of you like you’re a painting hanging in a gallery.

You cup your breasts, feeling the velvety warmth of your skin beneath your fingers as the purple of your nail polish brushes against your hardened nipples. Slowly you tilt your head down and let a trail of spit fall to one nipple.

“Do you wanna touch me?” you ask, pinching and pulling the sensitive peaks of your nipples. “Mmph–mmhmm,” he groans, nervously shuffling in his seat.

Bending forward and placing your hands on his knees gives him the perfect view of your breasts. A long sigh comes from him, his eyes planted on your tits. You like what you’re doing to him, you never start your dances off this close to a client, but you can’t resist him.

When your hands trail up to his thick thighs, the bulge of his pants makes your mouth water, tempting you to move towards it. Not yet.

Leaning closer, you nuzzle against the warmth of his neck. He smells delicious… like eucalyptus and maple syrup. His quickening breaths puff out against your hair. You taste his skin with your tongue, licking your way up to his ear.

“Do you wanna touch me?” you ask along with the song.

“Y-yeah,” he stutters.

Pulling away, you wink before turning your back to him and delicately sit atop his lap. Sinking down against his broad chest, the heat radiating off him burns hot against your back. The song changes just as you feel the poke of his erection against your ass.

A poppy beat soundtracks your movements as you grind yourself against the heft of him, falling back, placing your head against his wide chest. Reaching back, your hands tangle in his soft hair, humming sweetly along to the sound, letting a few lyrics slip out of your mouth.

“I bet you we’d really have good bed chem”

Your client follows directions very well, staying perfectly still, gripping the armrests so hard the golden skin around his knuckles turn white. You rub yourself against the rough fabric of his jeans, getting off on the quiet whimpers he leaves in your ear.

RING. The fifteen minute bell rings.

“And I bet it’s even better than in my head”

You rise off his lap and bend over clasping your hands around your ankles, giving him the perfect view of your ass and dripping core. The song fades out, a deeper, sultrier drumbeat begins.

“Like you, like you, ooh, I found it hard to find someone like you”

Your body gently sways along to the slow, sultry beat, and when you flip your head back to glance at him, he lets a low groan out. Placing your hands on the floor, you walk them out ahead of you before you’re on all fours, spreading your legs wide to show him even more of your glistening pussy.

“Do you wanna touch me?” you ask, settling on your stomach, snaking a hand between your wide spread legs.

“Y-yes,” he huffs.

“I know you do Bravo,” you tilt your hips up hovering them above the ground, “let me show you how I like it.”

Your middle finger enters your soaked entrance as your thumb gently dusts light circles against your clit. Your hips move in beat to the heavy rhythm of the song.

“Oh god,” he pants, when you stick another finger in, the chair creaking underneath his tensity.

RING. The ten minute bell rings.

Choreography, that’s the business term for what you’re doing. It’s all timed out, you hear these songs at least ten times every work day. Though you never sit on your clients as close as you did with Bravo, you never taste their skin like you did with Bravo. He deserves more than the same memorized steps, something better than the repetition you offer all of the others.

The song changes, signaling you to start your new routine, you ignore the cue, rolling onto your back, arching slightly, your eyes meet his. His hands remain clamped on to the armrests, fingers digging into the velvet. He’s trembling with restraint, beads of sweat glistening on his skin. His erection swells, the tight fabric of his pants tenting.

“Do you wanna touch me Bravo?”

“I do,” he whines, the lines of his neck straining as his head thuds against the back of the chair.

“Okay, okay baby,” you sit up, turning to crawl towards him. Your eyes don’t leave his.

“And I can be all the things you told me not to be

When you try to come for me, I keep on flourishing”

Kneeling on your knees in front of him, you unlock one of his clutched hands, moving it to the soft skin of your breast.

“N-no touching I thought,” he stammers, his hand laying flat against your skin.

“I make my own rules, it’s okay Bravo,” you allow, grabbing his other hand and placing it on you.

He groans when he cups your breasts in his hands. You watch the tendons of his strong hand tense and release as he cups your breasts and massages them in his hold. He’s mesmerized by his movements, like he can’t believe you’re allowing him to touch you.

Your hand teases its way up his leg to the warmth of the apex of his thighs before gripping him, thick and hard underneath the constraints of his jeans.

“Oh fuck,” he growls. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. You’re so beautiful.”

His words of adoration fall out of his mouth, eyes still locked on your tits covered by his hands.

You unbuckle his belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans as the choir sings God is a woman.

The song changes.

“You got, you got the cinema”

Your eyes light at the sight of his cock, standing tall and thick, precum leaking from the engorged tip. It’s just as beautiful and wide as the rest of your client.

Bravo lets out a garbled groan when you wrap your hand around his length, slowly pumping him along to the song. Up, down, up, down, the sexy beat soundtracking your movements.

RING. RING. The five minute bell rings. Your client doesn’t seem to heed the warning, only focusing on his thumbs swiping back and forth against the peaks of your nipples and your hand stroking the smooth silk of his cock.

“Touch me Bravo,” you rise, lifting a foot up on the armrest, keeping hold of his pulsing dick in your hand. “Give me two of your fingers.”

His eyes gaze down to your dripping cunt, watching himself as his hand sweeps down your body before parting your folds.

You got, you got the cinema

Your hips undulate to the tempo of the song as he sticks two of his long, thick fingers into your heat.

“God damn,” he mutters incredulously, “you’re so wet.”

The song changes.

A steady and slow funky guitar plays along with a soulful choir. It’s soft and romantic, exactly what you like to close down your shows with. You’ve never ended a show like this, your hand wrapped around your client’s wide cock, and your pussy clenching around two of his thick fingers. His thumb begins sweeping back and forth against your clit, he may have found himself at a brothel in Amsterdam, but your client has done this before. Perfect movements, perfect angle, you stare down in reverie at the focus he holds, watching himself touch you. His adoration of your body heats your core, lighting an orgasm just as beautiful as the song that plays.

“Fuck baby,” you pant, “I’m gonna cum.”

He blinks up to you, brown eyes staring intensely into yours when you bite your lip and send a gush of wet against his fingers. Your legs turn shaky, as your clit pulses against his thumb that blesses your sensitive bub with just the right amount of pressure. Moving his hand from between your thighs, he holds it up, marveling at the sight of your juices shining against his skin. You send him a smile as your leg drops to the floor, the rest of your body following, kneeling in front of him. He still stares at his hand, watching the strings of your orgasm stretch across his widely spread fingers.

“Smear it on your cock for me,” you say, planting both hands on his thighs.

He groans and nods before rubbing the remnants of your orgasm on his shaft. He shouts an indistinguishable sound when you lick a line up to his tip, tasting yourself and the salty tang of his precum. Your lips envelop the fat tip of him, sucking and slobbering your way down the thick length of him.

The song ends, the playlist repeats. The same quick drumbeat of the first song plays loudly.

You suck him to the beat, flicking your tongue against his tip with each “YEAH!” of the song.

RING. RING. RING. The final bells ring, signaling that your client should have left by now.

Bravo locks up. Your mouth unclasps from his cock.

“It’s okay,” you assure, “we have a word for–”

A heavy knock lands against the door.

“Driehoek (triangle) Pieter! I’m good in here, thanks!”

Three rapid knocks–softer now–signal Pieter’s departure.

“You guys really have it all fig–oh god,” he moans, when you take his cock back into your mouth.

His strong legs shake against your body as your cheeks hollow, taking him into your mouth faster and harder, his hips thrusting up to meet your mouth. Drool leaks out of the sides of your mouth, your eyes stare up at him blinking back tears as he reaches the back of your throat. You don’t know if he’s ever allowed himself this much freedom, it feels like you’ve unlocked something deep within him with the way he’s snarling and grunting “Irises” over and over.

“G-gonna–yeah–yeah–cum,” he gasps, hips stuttering and chair creaking as he spills into your accepting mouth.

Bravo, client. Bravo.

—

He can’t believe he just did that. He just–he–he just– came in the mouth of a complete stranger–nay–a prostitute. You told him you’ve never done something like that with a client as you tossed him a towel… and the funny thing is he actually believes you.

You shuffle back into the see through lilac dress as he zips his jeans back up. You really are the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, even if your purple eyeliner is now streaked from the tears that sprung in your eyes from gagging on his cock. Wow, that did just happen.

You leave a kiss against his cheek and open the door for him. Pieter escorts him out the back entrance with a knowing smile.

He walks back to his hotel, a new man with a clearer mind. Marcus really doesn’t feel the shame he expected he would. He knows a fine piece of art, and you just might be the finest he’s ever seen.

#marcus pike #pedro pascal #marcus pike smut #marcus pike fan fic #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #fucktober #birthdaybaroness #pedro pascal fanfic

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chaoticloving · 2 years ago

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the making of stomper

harry styles x reader masterlist

summery: harry has his wife make the feature of his new music video

a/n: reader is described as an engineer and the "flashbacks" are italicized

“Satellite was inspired by my love of Wall-e.” Harry explained. “I love the little guy, looking around in search for his point of life—so human, really.”

“I need your skills.” Harry ambiguously stated, rushing into the bedroom and meeting Y/n who was relaxing on the bed on her laptop.

"Come again?" Y/n laughed, confused by her husbands question and vaguely raunchy implications.

Harry climbs on the bed, sitting between his wife's legs on his sock-clad feet, yes, the pair with holes in them. "I have an idea and I need your help building it."

Harry gave a sweet smile, the face he poses whenever he wants Y/n to build something for him, first it was a new camera, fixing up a new engine for an old car harry had his eyes on, and any other little thing Harry wanted. Y/n never minded of course, she enjoys creating new things and Harry was always there to help by any means he could. She enjoyed working on other things besides work--which at her level typically involved designing, no actual building.

"Intriguing , what is it?"

"Wall-e."

"Wall-e?"

"Wall-e."

"Huh." Y/n thought for a moment, before switching tabs on her laptop and opening up a new design file, labeling it "wall-e". "What's your vision."

"It's to go with Satellite and it would feature a little robot roomba thing thats looking for the meaning of life. It would walk or roll and move it's little face around." Harry summarized, stopping before he rambles too long, and make a list too extravagant.

“I’m down, I just need some time to think about what I’ll need and the process.” Y/n decided.

“Stomper was actually the 6th Stomper.” Harry thought back. “The first couldn’t move its head and only go very slowly on it’s little wheels. Two through four short-circuited. Five got injured by our cat. But six—he was a trooper.”

“Alright, we rolling?” Y/n spoke over to Harry, doing some final looks on the remote and Stomper.

“Yup! Ready for testing!” This was always Harry’s favorite part, despite it not being Y/n’s because she was always very thorough and was always waiting for a flaw with her creation. Harry, ever the optimist, was excited to see the little creature come to life.

“Okay, lemme just turn him on.” It was definitely a he this one, something in Y/n was just telling her it was a boy—as boyish a robot could be. But maybe she just thought the robot would act like Harry and all of his boyish charm.

Stomper grew to life, it’s “eyes” producing a subtle glow.

“Alright and moving forward—“ He moved, a little quicker then the others before him, which Y/n surprised and confused about. “Turning around…” The little robot did just that.

“It works?!” Harry shouted, letting the camera out of focus. He ran up to Y/n and hugged her tight, kissing her wherever his mouth could reach.

“Harry we got to give it more time, he might explode or something-“

“It’s perfect.” Harry chided, ignoring any concern his wife had for the little robot.

“I think Stomper was a subliminal message of some sort—“ Harry told the camera. He held on tight to the small child in this lap, who was trying to grab his ear and hair. “Y/n didn’t know she was pregnant yet. Only about a week after the music video went up Y/n had this epiphany that she didn’t have her period for the past two months—and the rest was history.”

Harry looked down at the little boy in his arms, brown hair showing through and a nose like his daddy’s. His eyes and lips through, were a copy and paste from his Mama.

“I joked that we should name him stomper--Y/n did not like that joke at all—so we settled on something else that will forever remain a mystery for you lot, or until I end up rambling uncontrollably.”

Harry, ever the scared Papa Bear, wouldn’t let anyone get a picture of any sort of the small boy. During the video, the boy was wearing a hat covering his face while Harry’s large hand would cover from the neck up. The only way you could know that Harry’s son was there was from the little grabby hands that kept making an appearance.

“But it’s getting close to this bubs nap time, so thank you for all the love.” Harry turned the camera off, smiling as he know the fans would love the one year special treat.

Harry went upstairs and met with his lovely wife taking a nap in their shared bed. His little boy yawned, causing Harry to yawn, so he knew it was family nap time.

“How’d it go?” Y/n whispered.

“Good.” Harry said, moving around so he could big spoon his son and wife. “Bubs was the star.”

“He takes after you.”

Harry smiled at the comment, but knew the opposite to be true. His little baby was showing signs of intelligence that could only be traced to his wife. “With any luck he’ll turn out just like his mama.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #husband!harry styles #husband!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x fem!reader #husband!harry x reader #dad!harry #dadrry #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles satellite

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nevernonline · 1 year ago

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✧.* grow as we go; smau masterlist

synopsis: over the past ten years you've fallen in love many times. one day someone happens to stumble across your journal sitting out on your nightstand and started posting your entries online. after all of your secrets are leaked it's clear things would ever be the same again.

𐦍 paring: svt members x afab! reader.

𐦍 feat: non-idol! svt, (g)-idle minnie&soyeon, oc's

𐦍 genre/s: reader is super angsty low-key, fluffy, sexual themes.

𐦍 content: swearing, bullying, crazy ex's, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

𐦍 start date: october 2nd 2023

𐦍 updates: mainly mondays or thursdays.

𐦍 tag list - open

𐦍 note/s: a lot of what will be written is mainly as journal entries from the readers perspective!! in the beginning every other chapter or so will have a written entry. I'm mainly using ulzzang pictures for our main character. I'll be posting the profiles and introduction sometime tomorrow probably. the girlies love indie musicians & harry styles,srry.. I hope u enjoy, hehe. ily!

𐦍 chapters under the cut.

𐦍 profiles:

001 | 002 | 003

𐦍 journal entries:

part one;

00. introduction.

#1. super sleuths.

#2. the case of the cyberbullies.

#3. two robots fell in love.

#4 the fall of the empire.

#4.5 plan b?

#5. chronic memory keeper.

#6. quit!

#7 snake in the grass.

#8 not the bath mat.

#9 seeing red

#10 nerd heard?

#11 devil in disguise.

#12 stolen heart.

#13 gut feelings and emotional dealings.

#14 dressing for revenge.

#15 leave it to the cullens. (part 1)

#15 leave it to the cullens. (part 2)

#16 the part we play.

#17 happy trails

#18 damage control.

#19 anywhere you go.

#20 lost and found.

#21 we're so back.

#22 end it all.

#23 signing off for now.

#24 epilogue.

part 2; (coming soon)

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daaydreamy · 2 years ago

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misunderstood

summary: a lost, mistreated robot doesn’t know what to do next after escaping its owner’s grasp, y/n helps out.

warnings: coarse language

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

•••

“So, you want to stay… here?”

The robot nodded simply, “Yes.”

Y/N sighed softly and sat down on the couch beside the robot, although scooting a little farther away from him. The robot—or Harry, perhaps, since he did say that was his name, furrowed his brows, confused as to why she was so afraid of him. Sure, he knew that some people were a little apprehensive about robots roaming around the world and whatnot, but he thought he had been quite polite the entire time, as strange as the whole situation was.

“Are you afraid?”

“What?”

Harry raised his hand and poked her arm lightly, making her yelp and immediately push his arm away. She got up again and pointed a finger at him firmly, making his eyebrows raise up really high towards his hairline.

“Don’t do that.”

“I… I won’t hurt you?” Harry laughed lightly, “I was built to take care of people.”

“Still.” Y/N mumbled, “Don’t do that again. If you do, I’ll kick you out and let you die in the rain.” Her voice had gotten quieter and a little raspier in hopes of sounding serious and threatening. She had moved closer until her finger was almost touching the tip of his nose, teeth clenched lightly because this robot was really starting to test her and she wanted to turn his power switch off.

“Got it.” The robot said quietly and Y/N stood upright once more, now just looking at him, still unsure of what to do. All Harry could do was just stare right back of her, toying with the hem of his shirt as he waited for her to say something.

“I’m gonna go to bed.” She spoke up after a little while of awkward silence and lots of thinking. “My bedroom door will be locked, so don’t even try to get in. We’ll talk in the morning.”

Harry watched as she walked past him, jumping a little from the sudden slam of her door when she got in her bedroom. He looked around the state of her home, taking in all of the little decorations and knick knacks she had around. He got up and explored a little, checking out her pantry and dishes, but he didn’t dare to go into any other rooms that had doors that were closed. It was quite homey, cozy.

He charged until morning.

•••

“Good morning!”

“Fuck!”

Harry’s eyes widened and Y/N sighed softly. She had completely forgotten she let a robot stay in her home for the night, and got a little annoyed, but nevertheless, she greeted him a good morning back. Harry had been cooking breakfast while he assumed she was still sleeping in hopes of warming up to her a little more so she wouldn’t be so apprehensive about having him around, deciding to just make scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast.

“What are you doing?”

Y/N still had a blanket around her shoulders and was dragging it around with her, brows furrowed and eyes still a little puffy from sleep.

“I wanted to cook you breakfast!”

“…Thanks.” Y/N said slowly, watching him effortlessly take the bread that just popped out of the toaster and put it onto a plate alongside the food that was already there, handing it to her afterwards with a bright smile on his face.

“Just- just come sit with me on the couch, let’s talk.”

“Okay.” Harry smiled brightly, enthusiastically following her before sitting next to her. “What’s up?”

“Cut the bullshit.”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“I’m sorry?”

“We both know I don’t want you here, right? I’m not- I’m not trying to be friends with you or be your caretaker or whatever the fuck, okay? But I will, however, let you stay here until you find another place. Just think of it as a place to crash at, yeah? This place is nothing but a bed for you to sleep on. Or, um, charge.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that she wasn’t open to being friends, but he understood. He knew many people were unsure of having robots around them like himself, he just kind of… wished he had a friend after knowing only one person since his eyes opened, a person who wasn’t friendly at all. But he got where Y/N was coming from, hiding his disappointment and sadness with ease.

“Yes, I completely understand.”

Y/N sighed from relief, “Okay good.”

The thing was though, was that Harry genuinely had no purpose anymore. He had no idea what to do next. Robots who would break past their walls and do things they weren’t supposed to do weren’t exactly treated like they were angels lying on clouds, so he simply had nothing to do. He was afraid of going outside, afraid of people finding out what he did. He also had no roles or chores in Y/N’s home, since he wasn’t even supposed to be there. He was useless, the complete opposite of what he was made to be.

“Could I stay in the guest bedroom while I’m here? I noticed that you had one and I wasn’t exactly sure you would be so fond of having me just here in the living room.”

Y/N was back in the kitchen and chewing on toast, nodding.

“Knock yourself out.”

Harry nodded and went into the guest bedroom shortly after, shutting the door behind him quietly. He sat down on the bed and looked around, taking in his surroundings, unsure of what to do. He seemed… bored. Y/N didn’t like him, his previous owner still definitely doesn’t like him, lots of other people didn’t like him. He felt disappointed in himself.

He toyed with the bedsheet, experiencing the feeling he hated most: disappointment.

He didn’t know what to do with himself. He tried reading a few books, but with all the data that was stored inside of him, he already knew the ending to all of them. He looked out of the window for a little while, watching birds pass by, but got bored once more. He tried watching a movie, but couldn’t stop thinking. It was weird, since he was a robot, designed to do specific things and think specific things and say specific things. It was strange.

Harry stayed there all day.

He jumped from the sudden knock on his door, sitting up and watching Y/N open the door slightly. She looked a little defeated, he noticed, worry showing in his human-like features.

“Hey, look,” Y/N sighed, “I lied.”

Harry’s brows furrowed, “About what?”

Y/N stepped into the room fully, holding a charger, and Harry’s eyes widened a little. She told him that she didn’t have a charger the night he knocked on the door and he was pretty sure she hated robots, which was why he was confused about why she would have a charger that was specifically made for robots.

“I thought… You said you didn’t have one?”

“Yeah, well, I lied, so.” She laughed softly, sitting down next to him on the bed. “I have this thing because I was actually thinking of… getting an android, strangely enough. It was a long time ago, my friend told me that he had one and it was great, so I thought about it. I bought a charger first and thought some more, but you know I never got one, so this has just been lying around in the back of my closet. And I don’t- I don’t necessarily hate you, I’m not, like, a hateful person or anything. Like… we can be friends, if you want. ‘Cause it’d be kind of weird to just have a robot lying around in my house if I’m not even gonna, like, talk to it or anything. You know what, I’m sorry, this was stupid, just take the charger, goodnight.”

As Y/N was getting up from the bed, Harry gently grasped her wrist, making her sigh quietly.

“I,” Harry gulped, glancing down at the charger, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

a/n: here’s the first part if you haven’t read it!!! feedback is always appreciated, thank you so so much for reading :-) 🫂

🏷: @crow-i-guess, @planetflos, @harrycanyonmoonn, @bxtchboy69, @sweet-as-lilacs, @lyricalniall, @venusincleo (couldn’t tag you!), @bxbun111, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @emispleased, @goldenhrry, @cinnamongirlrry, @manifestrry, @sadqn1, @sad1esgf, @taylorsreputationsversion, @violetsandfluff, @purplefishingline, @a-strange-familiar, @moonlightbea-33 (couldn’t tag you!), @famedrs-blog, @coochiesteak, @blahblahblah-888 (couldn’t tag you!), @milesisntdonewritingyet, @harrysgoth, @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite (couldn’t tag you!), @cinnamonlola, @youcan-nolonger-run, @velvetrylie

#robotrry #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles oneshot #harry styles au #writing

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halfofwhatisayismeaningless · 6 years ago

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MASTERLIST.

REQUESTS: OPEN.

*requested

**smut

***song request

^angst

JOE MAZZELLO.

Fat Bottomed Girls. *

Letter from Deacy. ^

The stylist. *^

Home. ^

Creating Life. Part 1. ^

Turn me on. *** **

Terrible Things. *** ^

Drugs. *^

EUGENE SLEDGE.

Life after death. Part 1. Part 2. ^

JOSH WASHINGTON.

Far away. ^

RAMI MALEK.

Confidence.

Dreams.

The soundtrack of our lifes. (in colaboration with @nateywrites)

JOHN DEACON.

Little miracle.

HARRY STYLES.

Inexplicable pain. *^

ALEX TURNER

Morning After *^

Period *

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET

Yellow * **

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master-sass-blast · 4 years ago

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This Life is Infinite: Chapter One.

OH YEAH. IT'S TIME, BITCHES!!!

Summary: The Infinity War Fic aka I do whatever the fuck I want with the Russo's canon.

Get ready for the most ambitious crossover in CHC history.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader, Nathan Summers x Wade Wilson, Alexandra Rasputin x Nikolai Rasputin, and Kitty Pryde x Illyana Rasputin.

Rating: M for canon typical violence and death threats.

Word Count: 10k... oops.

Set after "Children of the Gods: Part Three."

Author's Note: Tentatively, I’m back from my hiatus. Things are nowhere near settled with my mental health, but I’m feeling well enough to post again.

I think it mostly goes without saying that updates for this series might be a little irregular going forward; not only do I need to take care of myself, but I also need to find a better balance with posting fanfiction and the rest of my life. As always, I will do my best to be clear with you all about what to expect in terms of updates and wait times.

Thank you again for your compassion and understanding.

Taglist: @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @super-darkcloudstudent, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @leo-writer, @emma-frxst, @sadstone-s

It’s not every day that mysterious, leather-clad men appear –quite literally, considering they teleported in—in your kitchen unannounced.

(Okay, perhaps they don’t qualify as “mysterious” when one of them is your dad, one of them is your brother, and the third is your uncle, but there’s a fourth man with them that you don’t recognize, so you like to think that the principle of the expression remains intact.)

You glance between Nate, Wade, your uncle, and the aforementioned unrecognized fourth man, then lift the box of cereal you’d been pouring into a bowl by way of greeting. “Breakfast?”

***

(The fourth man, as it turns out, goes by the code name “Kronos” –which, in terms of super cool code names, ranks at about an eight.)

“There’s a war coming,” Nate explains while the four of you stand around your kitchen counter. “Apocalypse is stirring. He’ll be sending his allies to Earth to initiate the first stage of the war, so that he’ll encounter less resistance when he comes to rule.”

“‘s called ‘The Decimation,’” Wade interjects as he shovels spoonfuls of Lucky Charms into his mouth. He points at his bowl, then jerks his head at the fridge. “D’ y’all have chocolate syrup?”

“Yeah, second shelf on the door.” You take another bite of your cereal, swallow, then ask Nathan, “What… what happens with ‘The Decimation?’”

“One of Apocalypse’s allies, Thanos, will arrive with his armies and generals. He’ll use his own forces to annihilate the heroes of Earth, then he’ll finish assembling the Infinity Stones and gauntlet and use them to wipe out half of all life across the cosmos.”

You purse your lips together and eye your dad warily. “If… if this was anyone other than you saying this, I’d say this all sounds like a hackneyed comic book and-or movie plot.”

“His information checks out,” Kronos says, voice low and gravelly. “Our cross-temporal intel confirms communications between Apocalypse and Thanos. We might have a few weeks to prepare for Thanos’s arrival –and that’s if we’re lucky.”

Wade snorts and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like “handwavey bullshit” under his breath.

You look to your uncle. “And you’re here because…”

“Need to talk to Xavier,” your uncle answers, “and then alert the Avengers and anyone else that can help us face Thanos.”

“Right,” you say slowly. “And you stopped here first because…”

“I was hungry,” Wade blurts as he drizzles more chocolate syrup on top of his cereal.

“You have credibility,” Nathan says while shooting Wade an equally annoyed and endeared look. “Xavier and Piotr listen to you, and the rest of the X-Men listen to them. We can’t afford to deal with a bunch of hesitating and infighting right now. We need to get our shit together and defeat Thanos, or the world as we know it is fucked.”

“Question.” Wade lifts his spoon. “Does Donald Trump die in this decimation bullshit?”

“We’ll deal with him later,” your uncle stage-whispers to Wade.

“If you’re all sure…” You wait for all four of them to nod, then sigh and shrug. “Alright. I think most of the X-Men are training right now. Let’s go talk to them.”

***

“This all sounds fucking insane.”

Wade gasps. The eyes on his mask widen as he lifts a gloved hand to where his mouth is under his mask. “James Doohan used a no-no word! My goodness gracious golly!”

Scott Summers scowls, but otherwise ignores Wade. He turns to the Professor, expression incredulous. “Do you believe… any of this?”

Xavier grimaces. “Our sources through Kronos” –he gestures to your uncle’s colleague—“have been confirming the intentions of Apocalypse for several years now. The difficulty was always in determining when Apocalypse would act, and in which timeline –though, now that we have Cable’s intel, we’ve been able to figure those two details out.”

“If Thanos is as powerful as you’re saying,” Ororo pipes up, looking at Nathan, “then how are we supposed to defeat him?”

“Any way we can,” Nathan fires back, expression grim.

“Our intel says that Thanos only has three of the six Infinity Stones, along with the gauntlet,” Kronos adds. “If we can keep the last three stones out of his hands and defeat his armies here on Earth, we’ll have better odds of facing Apocalypse down the road.”

“Right,” Jean says. “And where are the last three stones?”

“The Mind Stone is in the possession of Vision, an android created by Ultron, who now works with the Avengers,” Kronos explains. “The Time Stone is in the possession of Doctor Stephen Strange, who leads an order of sorcerers and magic users in New York. The Soul Stone… has yet to be located.”

“And we’re sure that Thanos is coming here?” Ororo asks, brows raised in skepticism.

“One of the unifying features across the pertinent timelines is a battle that takes place on Earth, specifically in the country of Wakanda,” Kronos answers. “Regardless of the other features in the timeline, there is always a major confrontation between Thanos and the forces of earth there.”

“Great,” Rogue deadpans, expression flat. “Now we just have to convince them to let us in. ‘Excuse me, your Majesty T’Challa, but there’s an evil spaceman that is collecting all powerful rhinestones and he’s going to come here to try and wipe out half of all life on Earth, so we need you to let us into your country with strict visitation policies to we can help you fight him.’ Yeah, that’ll go over real well.”

“We don’t have time to waste on sarcastic bullshit,” Nathan grits out, cybernetic eye flaring as he glares at Rogue. “We’ll handle getting the Avengers and Wakanda on board,” he says, turning to the Professor. “I take it we can trust you to get your team and Magneto collected?”

“I’ll contact Erik,” Xavier promises before looking over at your husband. “Piotr, would you mind calling your family? I believe, given the severity of the coming conflict, having as many hands as possible would be in our best interests.”

Piotr nods. “Konechno –of course.” He looks up at you from where he’s sitting, confusion clear in his sky blue eyes—

“You good to come with us?” Nathan asks, tapping your shoulder lightly to get your attention. “We’ll need help talking to Stark.”

“Huh? Uh –yeah. Sure.” You look back at Piotr; the request to ask for five minutes, just five minutes, to talk to your husband is on the tip of your tongue—

Nate tugs you –gently—a couple inches closer, then says, “Bodyslide by five.”

The room blurs, then disappears from view.

***

You’ve only bodyslid with Nathan a handful of times –and each time you do, you’re always caught off guard by how fucking weird it feels.

Your stomach lurches like you’ve just gone down the steepest drop on a rollercoaster, even though the ground remains steady beneath your feet. In a flash, there’s a brand new room in front of you –sleek, monochromatic cabinets, white marble countertops, stainless steel appliances and fixtures, the works. The space oozes sophistication, function, style –and money. So much money.

Given everything you’ve heard about Tony Stark, it makes sense.

“Deep breaths,” Nathan says. He places a steadying hand on your shoulder while you blink rapidly. “In through the nose, out through the mouth.”

You do your best to comply –though it’s a bit difficult, given that your brain is shrieking ‘sensory overload’ while trying to adjust to the new lighting, the new sounds, the sensation of having moved without really having moved at all, at least in the sense of walking or riding in a car—

And then alarms start blaring. Red lights flash, klaxons go off, the works.

Wade swears and claps his hands over his ears. “Christ! For a guy who has literal robots that can wipe his ass with dollar bills, you think he’d invest in something a little easier on the ears!”

“Wilson!” The klaxons and red lights cut out, replaced by various whirring noises and the sound of hurried, angry footsteps. “I swear to God, if you’ve hijacked one of my jets again, I’m gonna –who the fuck are all of you?”

Tony Stark looks… nothing like what you see in the papers. Granted, his face and hair look largely the same, but he’s not wearing the crisp, stylish suits that all the magazines, articles, papers, and interviews feature him wearing. He’s got on a worn, holey Metallica shirt, ripped, grease stained jeans, and a pair of scuffed sneakers that look like they might’ve been purchased ten years ago, for all that they’re barely holding together.

The army of security bots hovering and whirring around him, however, do fit his press image.

“Jon Snow!” Wade chirps, waggling his fingers at the harried “genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist.” “Long time, no talk. How’s Daenerys doing?”

“Summers, would you do me a favor and put your psychopath on a leash?” Tony asks, tone less than polite or pleasant as he focuses on Nate. “Preferably a nice short one that’s far away from me?”

“We’re here to talk,” Nathan says –though he does stop Wade from trying to play with the knives in the block on the kitchen counter. “It’s a matter of life and death. The well-being of the entire universe is at stake.”

“Yeah, been there, done that,” Tony says, looking none too impressed.

“One of your colleagues may have mentioned his name,” Kronos interjects, taking a step forward. “Does the word ‘Thanos’ ring any bells?”

Tony’s expression sobers for an instant, but he hides it quickly enough. “This is private property, and you’re all—”

A red being with a green suit and a yellow gem in the center of his forehead emerges from the floor. He places himself between Tony and the rest of you. “Would you like me to escort them out, Mr. Stark?”

“Ah, Casper the Friendly Android with No Concept of Personal Boundaries Despite the Infinite Knowledge!” Wade fires back, waving cheerfully. “How you doing, twenty-twenty?”

Vision sighs, longsuffering. “You have been expressly forbidden from these premises, Mr. Wilson.”

“Unless he’s here under my direct supervision,” Nathan fires back. “Stark, we need to talk about this—”

“Tony?” A tall, elegant woman with red hair wearing a tailored, navy blue dress walks up behind the man in question. She flashes you all a polite smile, but there’s no missing the way her gaze cautiously assesses each one of you. “I’m guessing these aren’t –oh. Wade’s here.”

Wade waves in response. “Hi, Miss Potts! How’s being a CEO?”

“It’s going very well, thank you,” Pepper replies politely –though, this time, she’s scanning the room for missing objects and-or visible damage. When nothing turns up, she looks back at Tony. “Are we escorting them out?”

“They claim to have information about the end of the world,” Tony says, tone flippant –though the grave expression on his face belies his snark. “About Thanos.”

Recognition flashes over Pepper’s face, though her polite mask never fully slips. She nods, then says, “Are we going to listen to them?”

“Probably should,” Tony replies in the same lackadaisical tone. “I’m not turning off the security drones while Wilson’s here, though.”

“Just for that, I’m pissing in your Ficus before I leave,” Wade huffs.

“That seems like it’s for the best,” Pepper tells Tony, smiling going tight at the edges while she stares at Wade. She takes a breath, steeling herself, then steps past Tony and nods at the rest of you in greeting. “Sorry for the confusion. Would you mind coming with us, so we can talk somewhere more comfortable?”

***

“I started connecting the dots after Thor left,” Tony explains, twirling a pencil between his fingers as he paces back and forth. “He mentioned Thanos briefly –but with the destruction and repurposing of Loki’s staff, the straggling records of Dormammu’s attack and the use of the Time Stone by Strange, the roles that the Tesseract and Loki’s staff played in the attack on New York by the Chitauri…” He sighs, pausing to stare out at the window at some unseen object before grimacing and shrugging. “It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

You’re all gathered in a conference room –which, as with the kitchen, carries the same modern, sleek style. Floor to ceiling windows show off the training grounds and the forest that conceals the base from the rest of the world. A massive plasma TV takes up one of the far walls, while the other walls are taken up by various dormant, holographic and electronic displays (made by Stark himself, no doubt). A black, oblong table sits in the center of the room, with leather, silver studded swivel chairs positioned around it.

“How many are there?” Tony asks, looking first at Kronos, then at Nathan. “How much time do we have?”

“There are six Infinity Stones in total,” Kronos says. “Thanos already has three –the Space stone, which was contained by the Tesseract, the Reality stone and the Power stone. Your colleague, Vision—” he gestures to the android “—is in possession of the Mind Stone already, and Stephen Strange has the Time Stone. Our agents have been unable to confirm the whereabouts of the Soul Stone, but we’re certain that Thanos doesn’t have it.”

“Yet,” Tony adds, tone pessimistic.

“As far as time goes, we have a few days at most,” Nathan says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe a week, if we’re lucky.”

Tony grimaces. “That doesn’t bode well for rebuilding international relations on a dime. Or team morale for that matter.”

“Sort it out,” Nathan gravels out. “We’ve got bigger issues.”

“We won’t have time for issues if we can’t even pull a team together,” Tony snaps.

“If it helps…” Kronos withdraws a flash drive from his jacket pocket and holds it out to Tony. “The evidence of Thanos’s collection of the stones and his plans to come here.”

Tony accepts the flash drive. He turns it over in his fingers a couple times –no doubt mentally comparing the drive to the technology he’s created—then pockets it. “And Xavier’s on board with all this?”

You blink when you realize everyone’s staring at you. “Uh –yes. He’s contacting Erik Lensherr for some additional support, and the rest of the X-Men are ready to take on Thanos as well.”

“Great.” Tony stares down at the table for a moment, expression slightly melancholy but otherwise inscrutable, but then he snaps back to his usual self. “Good meeting. I’ll text you with the details.”

“Ooh, does that mean we’re trading numbers?” Wade gasps, pressing his hands on either side of his face. “I’ll put you on my favorites list.”

“I’ll contact Xavier,” Tony amends, shooting Wade a slightly harried look.

“We’ll be ready,” you assure him, at a loss for what else to say as you hook your arm around Wade’s to keep him from messing with the holographic display system.

“Vision will escort you out,” Pepper says with a polite smile and nod.

“I’ll make you a friendship bracelet, Tony the Tiger!” Wade calls as you and Nathan gently usher him towards the door. “Wait –stop shoving me! I need to get his wrist size!”

“Later, gorgeous,” Nate says with a barely suppressed smile.

Under any other circumstances, you’d laugh, but the stony foreboding weighing down your gut makes it too hard to even muster up a chuckle –especially when you catch Tony slumping down into one of the conference room chairs with a despairing expression on his face. You force yourself to focus on getting Wade out of the Avenger’s headquarters without stealing anything –though that does little to calm your swirling thoughts. How in the hell are we gonna pull this off?

***

“Are you okay?”

You sigh, instinctively wriggling back against Piotr’s chest as he lays down behind you. “Define ‘okay.’”

It’s nearly midnight now. Between contacting other allies for help –Nathan had you all bodysliding around New York for the better part of the day to reach out to the Hell’s Kitchen figures—and learning up about Thanos’s army and what could be expected in a confrontation against him, you didn’t get home until well after dinner.

You’re in bed now, too tired for anything else. You stare out the windows that overlook the balcony, purposefully trying to keep your mind blank so you don’t grow overwhelmed by the chaos buzzing in your brain.

Because this is insane. This is beyond mutant trafficking or petty grievances between groups of mutant rivals or even being gunned down by the mafia. This is beyond abusive parents, groups of hateful bigots, or anti-mutant legislators.

It’s –quite literally—the fate of the entire world. The entire galaxy. Based on Nathan’s reports of the future, half of all life is wiped out. People, animals, plants –all gone, dissolved into piles of ash… and for what? So some egomaniac can have his moment of glory?

Your stomach curdles when you even try to contemplate a life without Piotr.

“Hey.” Piotr draws you in close when you start crying. “Tische, myshka. Everything is okay.”

“But it’s not.” You sniff, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve. “Nothing about this is fucking okay, Piotr. Someone’s gonna wipe out half of the damn universe because he wants to jerk off to it later.”

“He has to go through us, first,” Piotr reminds you as he presses soft, sweet kisses against your cheek.

“We don’t have the numbers,” you point out bleakly. “We don’t have the ammunition. We don’t have the time to make a solid plan, or to prepare any extra defenses, or—”

Piotr hugs you tight. He kisses the top of your head. His hand strokes up and down your arm in an attempt to soothe you.

You grip his other hand, holding him close to you. You focus on how warm and solid he is. How wonderful he is and how lovely your life is with him. “I love you, Piotr.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and cry some more.

***

The call comes in at five thirty in the morning.

“Stark’s brought around the other Avengers and Wakanda,” Nathan says, sounding far more alert than you ever will at this godforsaken hour. “We’re lifting off at seven.”

“Roger that,” you manage while Piotr turns on the bedside lamp and blinks the sleep out of his eyes. “We’ll be ready.” You set down your phone when the call ends, then groan and drop your head into your pillow. Why can’t the end of the world ever happen in the afternoon?

***

The Blackbird jets are loaded to maximum capacity. Aside from carrying the X-Men and the X-Force exclusive members, you’re also ferrying the Hell’s Kitchen vigilantes, Piotr’s family and Allison, your uncle and his team, and the younger children and their parents to Wakanda for safe-keeping (your uncle’s reasoning was that an enemy of the institute might notice the sudden lack of protection and decide to attack the younger, more vulnerable students and their families for vengeance, so it was better to be safe than sorry).

You keep close to Piotr or to the cockpit, but there’s still no avoiding the tense, cramped feeling.

You’re not the only “birds” in the sky, either. It’s practically a whole convoy, flying out to Wakanda in what might’ve been a formation if Wade didn’t occasionally grab the control and try to do a “barrel roll.” Magneto and his forces are flying in their own airship, while the Avengers are leading their pack in Tony’s custom, “cutting edge of technology” jets.

You watch the small fleet of jets that belong to the Avengers, lips pursed into a tight line. Your gaze darts over to the navigation board every few seconds, tracking your miniscule progress across the Atlantic Ocean towards Wakanda.

There’s a heavy sigh behind you, and then an even heavier pair of arms settle around your shoulders. “Myshka. You should rest.”

You “hmm” softly to let Piotr know you heard him, but you don’t step away from the cockpit door.

He kisses the top of head and starts gently rubbing your neck with his thumbs. “Will be several hours before arrival, dorogoy. There is nothing you can do until then.”

“It feels like wasting time,” you murmur back –because, naturally, Piotr’s seen to the heart of the issue already. “We’ve got so much to do.”

“And we can do nothing until we arrive in Wakanda.” Piotr kisses your temple, then gently nudges you away from the cockpit. “Come sit with me, lyublyu. You will need full energy when we land.”

And that, above all else, is the only reason you let Piotr usher you over to the nearest seat.

You crawl into his lap once he sits, curling up in his arms. You lay your head on his shoulder and let his warmth combined with the gentle thrum of the jet’s sonic engines lull you to sleep.

***

Wakanda is simultaneously everything and nothing like what you expected.

There’s a force shield that surrounds the inner part of the country that gives way as the convoy of ships pass through it. It almost seems to shimmer out of view before revealing an elegant, shining palace and curved, glimmering towers that comprise the larger part of the city. Lush jungle and towering, ice-capped mountains border the city, split by a winding river and rushing waterfalls.

It almost looks too beautiful to be real.

The awe-inducing visuals and technology don’t stop as the convoy flies out to a glittering, black glass structure that, on the navigation board, is labeled as the lab of Princess Shuri. The convoy swoops around to a massive hangar at the base of the building, landing just inside on the polished stone and metal floor.

Waiting for all of you in the hangar is King T’Challa Udaku; he’s wearing a black robe embroidered with silver thread and a vibrant kente scarf, and generally looks every bit as poised and unflappable as he did in the UN interviews. He’s flanked by his Dora Milaje soldiers –who are undeniably badass with their armor and spears, and you catch Ellie, Yukio, and Kitty all staring at the women in awe—and his partner, Nakia, and his sister, Princess Shuri.

Tony and Professor Xavier handle the introductions with the King, which lets you stretch and take in the hangar and throngs of superheroes. You recognize a few of them –Captain America aka Steve Rogers, Ant-Man aka Scott Lang and his entourage --including a man with dark hair styled like Elvis that you recall seeing in some sort of news interview a while back and a young woman with curly brown hair and warm eyes that’s holding his hand-- and War Hero ,aka James Rhodes, aka Tony’s best friend and “work wife”—but some of the entourage members are new to you.

You take a moment to stretch out your back –sleeping in Piotr’s lap isn’t the worst quality rest you’ve ever had, but given the configurations of the jet seats it was a little cramped—and admire the glimmering, inlaid lights on the hangar ceiling. Swanky.

“We have space prepared for the upcoming preparations and hosting all of you,” T’Challa says, voice cutting through the din of the crowd with ease. “If you would all follow Princess Shuri, please.”

Shuri smiles, then motions for everyone to follow her out of the hangar.

Half of the Dora Milaje break away from the formation, keeping a protective line between the princess and everyone else.

You fall into stride alongside your husband, well-practiced by now at matching your steps to his long stride.

***

The “prepared space” winds up being three massive rooms, each with smaller rooms sectioned around the main spaces, a kitchen-slash-rec area that joins the three massive rooms in the center, and three large, communal style bathrooms with multiple stalls for toilets and showers. The main rooms have several long, workstation style tables at them, with some beds stationed at the fringes, and the smaller rooms function only as bedrooms, mostly for the families with kids and the handful of couples present.

“This interface,” Princess Shuri says as she taps on a small disk embedded into the wall, “will let you contact security and staff if you have questions or need to speak with someone. There’s one in each room, for easy access. It will begin glowing and beeping if someone’s trying to send a call to you; you answer by pressing the base,” she explains, demonstrating on the disk.

“We’re expecting another group of people,” Tony pipes up. “Strange is collecting some of our allies from the South Eastern Quadrant. They should be here in the next sixteen hours, give or take.”

Shuri nods. “We’ll contact you when they arrive.” She offers the group a magnanimous nod and smile, then strides out the hall you all entered through, flanked by the Dora Milaje soldiers.

For a moment, no one moves. You all stand around, hesitating as you all try to take in the new scenery and space.

Alex moves first. She sighs, then grabs her duffel and strides towards the nearest workroom. “No point in waiting.”

Her initiative seems to jolt everyone else out of their daze. Everyone sections off, largely sticking with the groups of their original affiliation.

You amble alongside Piotr, peering around the workroom as you try to decide where to set your pack. Here goes nothing.

***

We’re staring down the apocalypse, you muse as you watch everyone set up shop, and it’s all coming down to sewing machines.

It’d come as a shock when Alexandra had lugged the sleek, white machine out of its carrying case. She’d set it on one of the tables, then lifted bolts of thick, rugged Kevlar out of one of her duffels next. Thread, scissors, measuring tape, and gridded cutting boards follow the Kevlar—

And then the sewing machine jammed as soon as Alex turned it on.

“Ty meshok der'ma,” Alex mutters under her breath as she fiddles with the internal mechanisms of the sewing machine. She glares at the gears, grumbling and swearing while she prods at them with a pair of tweezers. “Kakogo khrena tvoya problema?”

The situation seems mundane in its inanity.

The end of the damn world, and we’re being thwarted by twenty pounds of plastic and metal.

“Day mne poprobovat'.” Nikolai crouches down next to his wife. He adjusts the reading glasses perched on his nose, then aims a small flashlight at the interior of the machine. He murmurs and tuts in Russian while prodding at the machine –and then he makes a soft noise of exclamation. “Broken needle. Pryamo tam.”

“Sukin syn.” Alex uses her telekinesis to draw out the metal shard, then lets out an exasperated sigh and spreads her arms when the machine finally makes the proper start up noises. “Thank you.”

“Be nice,” Nikolai chides her with a teasing grin. “Is uncomfortable, having metal stuck in organs. You would not want to work either.”

“I’ve had metal in my organs,” Alex grumbles as she gets her sewing machine configured. “I still managed.” She smirks when Nikolai laughs, then kisses her husband’s cheek before motioning for you to approach. “Come here, ptitsa. I want to reinforce your suit; I need your measurements.”

You round the table, shucking off your sweatshirt so Alex can measure your torso. “Is there anything I need to do?”

“Just hold still, malenkiy,” Alex murmurs as she runs her tape measure around your waist.

“I make no promises,” you joke.

Alex snorts, then moves her measuring tape up to your ribcage.

***

The waiting is, somehow, worse now.

At least on the plan there was a promise of a destination. A sense of the temporary, that you’d be up and moving and doing again within a few hours.

Unfortunately, reality is so often different from how you envision it, just as it is now. Because the reality of the situation is that there are only a limited number of people capable of helping. Nate and Tony are working with the Princess to configure weapons to fight Thanos’s forces, Hank and the healers are preparing a makeshift medical bay, Frank, Wade, Mikhail, and Neena are cleaning and checking guns, Alex, Piotr and Nikolai are taking turns working on fabricating armor for those who need it—

Leaving you with nothing to do. Aside from keeping those who are working well fed and hydrated and managing the kids, all you can do is sit and watch while everyone else prepares.

It’s agony. Your chest aches from stress, and your stomach’s churning so much you can barely choke food down at mealtimes. I need to help more. I need to do something, dammit.

It’s like being in line for random execution and having no idea whether you’re going to be shot or not.

You stay close to Piotr. You run food and snacks and drinks for anyone who needs it. You help manage the kids when the need arises –but since most of their parents are here, the incidents are far and few between.

You sit. And you wait.

It’s all you can do.

***

“Absolutely not.”

“You need to be reasonable.”

“I am. It’s perfectly reasonable to keep a fourteen-year-old off a fucking battlefield!”

Alex sighs. She leans back in her seat and raises an eyebrow at her eldest daughter. “Normally I would agree, but I don’t think you’ll have much say in the matter. Your ability to control her is notably lacking.”

Artemis huffs and crosses her arms over her chest. “You try reining in a teenager who’s realized there’s no consequences to her actions.”

“I’m not judging, merely observing,” Alex assures her daughter. “But, at any rate, it’s not unreasonable to predict that she’ll join the fray at some point. Body armor is a necessity.”

“It’s an invitation! She’ll take it as permission!”

“Artemis?” Allison sticks her head into the room, then strides over to her mentor-slash-surrogate mother. “Is everything okay? Who’s getting permission to do what?”

“No one is,” Artemis grumbles, even as she holds her arm out so the teen can lean against her side. “Especially not you.”

Allison lets out a disgusted sigh and rolls her eyes. “I already told you—”

“You’re not fighting.”

“I can handle myself!” Allison snaps. She jerks away from Tatianna, scowling. “You’re treating me like a baby!”

“Compared to me, you are a baby,” the older woman points out drily.

“It’s not your burden to bear,” Alex interjects, fixing the testy teen with an even –though not harsh—stare. “Teenagers shouldn’t have to fight for the future of the world. That’s for adults to handle.”

“No one gets to decide,” Allison grits out, “what my burdens are. And this isn’t about ‘should’ or ‘shouldn’t.’”

The corner of Alex’s mouth twitches. She looks up at Artemis, brows raised.

Artemis sighs. She tips her head back, staring up at the ceiling, then looks down at Allison. “You need body armor to keep you safe. That does not mean, however, that you’ll be joining us in the fight against Thanos.”

Allison sweeps her tongue along the inside of her cheek. She crosses her arms and cocks her head to the side. “Pretty sure you don’t get to decide that.”

“Pretty sure you should listen to me,” Artemis fires back, “since I have more experience and am telling you that it’s too much for you to handle.” She lets out an exasperated breath when Allison rolls her eyes, then waves her hand dismissively as if to say ‘I tried.’ “Get her set up.”

Alex nods, then waves Allison over. “Alright, malenkiy. Let’s get you sorted.”

***

“Are you asleep?”

“Nyet.” Piotr rolls over, drapes an arm over you, and kisses your forehead. “I would ask you the same, but…”

You manage a small chuckle. “Pretty obvious answer, yeah.”

The two of you are in one of the private rooms –if only because (aside from your status as married) it has a bed big enough to accommodate Piotr. There’s a small window that overlooks a cavern beneath the lab. Dim, blue light seeps through the glass pane, but it’s not enough to properly illuminate the room.

Piotr’s fingers skim over your upper arm. “Why are you not sleeping, myshka?”

“Can’t,” you admit, voice wavering. You take a deep breath through your nose and try to calm yourself. “I just… I can’t handle not doing anything. It gives me too much time to think about what might happen.”

Piotr croons gently, drawing you in closer so he can tuck you against his chest. He cradles your head with one massive head. “Dorogoy. You know such things are not good for you.”

“Yeah, I know,” you grumble, eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Doesn’t mean that knowledge stops my brain any.”

“Ya znayu,” Piotr murmurs as he kisses your temple. “But everything is going to be alright, myshka.”

“Except it really might not be,” you argue, voice shaking. You grip the material of his shirt, as though he might be wrenched away from you at any moment and whisked away into the wind. “It really might not, Piotr.”

Your husband doesn’t say anything in response to that. He merely holds you closer still and strokes his fingers through your hair.

You press your forehead against his chest and start weeping quietly.

***

The second day is much like the first –a slow, agonizing crawl punctuated by overwhelming anxiety and exhaustion.

You linger at the table where Nate, Tony, and Ellie are modifying guns, handing the three various tools and materials when they ask for it. You watch their progress numbly, brain devoid of anything other than wordless worry.

At least, you watch until Nate texts Piotr to come get you.

“Davay, myshka,” your husband coaxes as he lifts you off your stool. He grunts slightly as he shifts you into a bridal-style hold, then carries you away from the table and out of the room. “Let’s have lunch.”

“But—”

“Is important to stay fed and hydrated.”

“—I was helping.” You peer past Piotr’s arm –then sigh when Nathan gives you a sympathetic, concerned smile and waves you along. “Baby—”

“Just for little bit.” Piotr sets you down when you ask, but he keeps a hand on your shoulder, just in case. “Is not good to sit and stew in anxiety.”

You drop your gaze to the floor. “You can’t prove anything.”

Piotr lifts his hand from your shoulder and cradles your cheek. He strokes his thumb against your skin, waiting until you look up at him before speaking again. “Come have lunch with me, moya lyubov’,” he says with an adoring smile (which you’re certain is a deliberate, tactical move on his part to make sure you don’t try and argue, and dammit if it isn’t working). “I would enjoy your company.”

You scuff the toe of your sneaker against the floor, but ultimately acquiesce. “Alright. I guess I should take a break.”

***

The snooping starts after lunch, while Alex is chewing Frank out for spray-painting his bullet proof vest.

“What, are you looking to ruin perfectly good Kevlar?” Alex gripes as she tosses Frank’s “Punisher” vest aside. “You want to break down the material? Get shot out like some schmuck because you decided to be an artist?”

“It’s strategic,” Frank argues with a good-natured, crooked grin. “Keeps my enemies’ line of sight trained on where I have the most protection.”

Alex nods and makes a sarcastic noise of assent. “‘Strategic.’ Is that what it is? Ya ne mogu v eto poverit'. V moye vremya my nazyvali strategiyu pobedoy, a ne stavili svoyu grebanuyu vizitnuyu kartochku na kazhdoye sovershennoye nami proklyatoye ubiystvo. Get your ass over here, drama boy.” She scoffs and starts measuring Frank’s chest and shoulders. “‘Strategiya,’” she scoffs. “What a load of horse shit.”

“Akh akh,” Nikolai tuts as he walks into the room with a plate of food and glass of water. “What is happening here?”

“I’m pretty sure I upset the apple cart, sir,” Frank says, unabashed.

Nikolai chuckles while Alexandra brings up to speed, ranting in irritated Russian. He sets the plate and glass on the table next to his wife, kisses her head, then ambles back out to the kitchen—

And that’s when you notice it. Or, rather, her.

Natasha Romanoff, aka the Black Widow. Renowned spy, assassin, weapons and espionage expert, and former member of the Avengers if the debacle surrounding the Sokovia Accords is to be believed.

She’s sitting at the kitchen counter on barstool, tapping away at her phone –which isn’t inherently suspicious, but her line of sight lets her look directly into the room you’re all situated in and—

She’s watching Alex.

At first you think she might be watching Frank (which, fair enough, having a mass murderer, somewhat unstable vigilante around is a reasonable cause for caution). But when Frank gets up and walks out (probably to go find Karen), Natasha doesn’t even move. Her gaze –when she’s not looking at her phone—stays fixed on Alexandra while she works at her sewing machine.

For once, you’re grateful Piotr is as large as he is; he makes a great hiding spot to do countersurveillance from.

Natasha approaches slowly, but deliberately. She talks to someone on her phone –whether she’s faking or not doesn’t matter to you, because she still uses it to get off the barstool and amble around while she’s talking. Then, she has a conversation with Captain Rogers, which she uses to get a few feet closer to the doorway.

At some point, you’re not certain if she realizes you’re watching her, only because she gives up the pretense of trying to hide her snooping entirely. She leans against the doorframe, watching Alex intently while she marks, pins, and cuts out fabric.

It’s Illyana who has enough of the whole thing first. Three minutes into Natasha standing in the door way, the blonde sighs, sets her phone down on the work table, and glares up at the red head. “Kakogo khrena ty khochesh?”

Natasha purses her lips slightly. She acknowledges Illyana with a brief glance, then turns her focus back to Alex. “Alexandra.”

“Natalia,” Alex says by way of greeting, not even bothering to look up from her work. “Are you here to help, or are you here to waste my time?”

She grimaces, but recovers and smiles politely. “It’s been a long time.”

“So, you’re here to waste my time,” Alex surmises as she pins a pattern to a piece of heavy black Kevlar.

Natasha swallows reflexively, then turns on her heel and walks away.

***

Half an hour later, it’s Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes’s turn.

The two supersoldiers are far less covert than Agent Romanoff. They stand in the middle of the rec room, a few feet away from the door, and don’t make any attempt to hide their conversation or the fact that they’re watching Alex (and, to some extent, her children and Nikolai as well).

Illyana says something to her mother a few times, but Alex waves her off –and, in general, seems unbothered. “U nas yest' rabota, snezhinka. U nas yest' rabota.”

“Did you know him?” you ask, later, when the Rasputin kids are out of the room. “The Winter Soldier?”

You’ve heard enough through the grapevine to know about the basics of the man’s story –captured by Hydra, experimentation, brainwashing, being coerced into murdering.

(It all sounds chillingly familiar.)

“We crossed paths,” Alex admits with a shrug. She slides a piece of ceramic armor plating inside a Kevlar pouch, then starts sewing the pouch shut. “Overlap was common back in the day.”

“Do you think he remembers you?” you murmur, glancing out at the kitchen (fortunately, Rogers and Barnes are gone for now).

Alex pauses. She purses her lips, then shrugs and resumes working. “I don’t know. He went through a lot with the forced mind wipes. There’s really no way of knowing.”

“Are you going to be in trouble if he does remember you?”

Alex huffs and favors you with a gentle smile. “I’ve gotten out of worse, ptitsa. Don’t worry so much.”

You say that like it’s easy, you think while the knot in your stomach coils tighter.

***

There’s a brief reprieve around dinner. You even manage to relax a little, smiling and chuckling as Piotr and Mikhail bicker and generally irritate each other as much as humanly possible.

Work starts up once more as soon as everyone’s done eating. You nestle yourself against Piotr’s side, relaxed via the virtue of being too tired to be stressed—

And then Tony Stark walks in.

Or perhaps “walk” isn’t the right term. He moves with an air of grandeur and utter self-assurance –which, even with your limited exposure to Tony Stark, you can tell is a “brand standard” for him. He tosses an apple up and down in one hand as he breezes along, expression blasé to the point of looking disinterested as he strides up to the table where Alexandra works.

If it weren’t for Natasha, Captain Rogers, and Sergeant Barnes scoping out the Rasputin matriarch earlier, you would’ve pegged Stark’s visit as entirely coincidental.

“What’s your deal?” Tony asks, leaning against the table next to where Alex is stationed at her sewing machine.

No pretense. No niceties. No attempt at subtlety.

Alex’s lips quirk into an annoyed grimace. She looks up and over the top of her machine for a moment, staring at Nikolai (likely trying to find any scrap of his infinite patience for herself), then lowers her gaze once more and says, “Usually, it’s not answering vague, pointless questions asked by nosey individuals.”

“You’ve got half my team twisted up just by being here,” Tony continues, unruffled. “I’ve seen Romanoff stare down the Hulk on a rampage without flinching. What about you is so special that you make her nervous?”

“Interesting,” Alex comments, almost to herself. “And here I thought, after the Berlin incident, your ‘team’ was largely disbanded. Something about ‘not agreeing with your leadership.’”

Tony’s face twitches, mouth briefly stretching into a pained grimace before he smooths it back out. “You don’t exist.”

“Everyone’s concept of self is different,” Alex mutters as she rips out a crooked seam on an armor pouch.

“There’s no record of your birth. Or your parents, for that matter. Your marriage license has no given maiden name. No history of education, doctor’s visits, driver’s license –nothing until you turned twenty-four.” He takes a bite of his apple, swallows, then says, “People don’t just ‘poof’ into existence as full grown adults. It doesn’t happen.”

“Perhaps,” Alex retorts as she resews the faulty seam, “you are just not very good at finding things.”

“I can find anything.”

“Except, it would seem, a way to keep from trying my patience.”

Tony watches her for a moment longer –then, when she doesn’t say anything, he turns and starts striding out of the room. “I’m going to figure out what’s up with you. There aren’t any secrets that can hide from my A.I.”

Alex doesn’t dignify his departure with a response –but her eyelid twitches as she continues her sewing.

You look up at Piotr, only to find he’s watching Nikolai. You look over at the Rasputin patriarch, and your heart sinks when you see the worried expression on his face.

Nick sighs, then stands and rounds the table. He ambles up behind his wife, drapes his arms around her shoulders, and kisses the top of her head before he starts murmuring to her in quiet, loving Russian.

You lean against Piotr’s side, giving him a reassuring squeeze even though the only thing you feel is disquieted. You force yourself to take a deep breath and relax your jaw as fear starts crawling up your spine once more. One thing at a time. One thing at a time, that’s all you can do.

Except, it seems, when everything decides to happen at once.

***

Meeting the Norse god of thunder is… intense.

Though, that may have to do with the entourage of people he brings with him.

Around three in the morning, Dr. Strange shows up with the remaining allies –Thor, god of thunder, and his brother Loki, god of magic, Bruce Banner aka the Hulk, a woman by the name of Carol, and a group that calls themselves the “Guardians of the Galaxy” (which happens to include a talking raccoon and a sentient tree).

“Just when you thought, like, it couldn’t get weirder,” Kitty mutters to you as she stares at the newest arrivals.

You nod. Granted, your usual metric for all things weird is Wade, who has basically explored every avenue of zany, bizarre, and disturbing—

But yeah, this is pretty fucking weird.

“Where do we stand in preparations for the arrival of Thanos?” Thor asks Tony.

“We’ve got most of the busywork done,” Tony says, outlining the weapons upgrades and the armor work that’s been done. “We waited for major planning until we had everyone here and better intel.”

Thor nods, then gestures to two women standing with the “Guardians of the Galaxy,” one with green skin and dark hair and the other with blue skin and cybernetic enhancements. “This is Gamora and Nebula, daughters of Thanos. They’ll be able to provide information on the strength and size of his forces.”

“Good,” Steve pipes up from where he’s standing with Sam Wilson and Sergeant Barnes. “The sooner we have a plan, the better.”

“It can wait until we’ve slept,” Alex decides, voice crisp. “We won’t come up with anything good while we’re fried.”

Tony blinks, then scowls. “Thanos could be here as soon as this coming morning.”

“Then we’ll be doubly fucked if we’ve stayed up all night trying to scrape together a plan,” Alex replies, unmoved. She crosses her arms when Tony glares at her. “The younger and less experienced of us need rest if this is going to work.”

“I’m with the lady,” Quill pipes up, brushing past Tony. He gives Stark a smile that, if you had to wager, is supposed to be charming but just comes off as arrogant. “I think you’ll find that we… don’t really roll with plans. It’s not our style.”

Alex stares at Quill for a moment, expression vastly unimpressed. She sighs, blinks slowly, shakes her head, then turns on her heel and strides back to the room she’s been sharing with Nick. “Absolutely not. I’m going back to bed.”

As if waiting for a cue, everyone else disperses, muttering about being tired and “needing an IV drip of espresso.”

You shuffle off with Piotr, hand in hand, shivering slightly from nerves. Please just let this go well.

***

“Both the Chitauri and the Klyntaar forces number into the tens of thousands. The Chitauri have sentient airships capable of carrying infantry forces while wreaking their own havoc, in addition to chariots that can carry up to five marksmen at a time. He also has tanks the size of this building that can demolish anything in their path.”

Everyone is gathered in one of the main work rooms. A majority of the people present hang back at the fringes, content to watch while Tony, Captain Rogers, King T’Challa, Alexandra, your uncle, Thor, Quill, and Natasha hash out a strategy.

“He’s trying to overwhelm us with sheer numbers,” Steve says in response to Gamora’s information.

“It might work,” Natasha murmurs, gaze focused on the worktable in front of her. “We don’t have near enough firepower to chip away at that many grunts.”

“Not if we play our cards right,” Alex says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“There’s also our siblings,” Gamora adds with a pained grimace.

Off to the side, Nebula scoffs. “They’re hardly family.”

“Thanos collected beings throughout the galaxy to serve him,” Gamora explains. “To act as his eyes and ears and eliminate his foes. Aside from Nebula and I, he has four other ‘children.’ They’ll be acting as his generals and commanders in the fight –and helping him track down and capture the final infinity stones.”

Tension ripples through the room.

“What do we know about these Infinity Stones?” Alex asks after a moment of fraught silence.

“The stones were originally created by the Celestials,” Loki pipes up from where he’s leaning against a wall. “Their magical properties are tied to aspects of the universe –time, space, reality, and so on. Only beings of immense power can wield them without severe consequences.”

“Thanos has the gauntlet that accompanies the stones,” Thor adds. “With it, once he assembles all six stones, he’ll be able to use them simultaneously.”

“He wants to wipe out half of all life on Earth,” Gamora says, voice wavering slightly. “That’s been his single goal ever since I’ve known him.”

“All men want to be gods,” your uncle jokes half-heartedly.

“Can the stones be broken?” Alex asks.

Loki chuckles, incredulous. “These are magical tools created by the most powerful beings ever known to the galaxy… and you want to break them?”

She shrugs. “Best not to overlook the simplest solution.”

“I’m taking that as a ‘no,’” Steve interjects. “So, if we can’t destroy them, how do we fight them?”

“The only thing powerful enough to combat the effects of the Infinity Stones are the Infinity Stones,” Loki answers.

“And we only have two,” Natasha surmises, expression drawn and grim.

“Three.”

Everyone looks up and turns when Illyana speaks.

She smirks, tilting her chin up when Natasha meets her gaze. “We have three Infinity Stones.”

“Vision has the mind stone, and Dr. Strange has the time stone,” Kronos argues, shaking his head. “The soul stone is still missing.”

Illyana’s smirk broadens. She lifts her hand, curling it as if she was holding something.

A sword materializes in her hand –and in the center of the sword, small but unmistakable, is a glowing orange gem.

Your uncle’s eyes widen. “Holy shit.”

“Three,” Illyana repeats, looking supremely confident and self-satisfied. “Unless there is elusive seventh stone?”

Loki smiles ruefully, shaking his head. “The Goddess of Limbo pulls through. Well done.”

“Okay, but Vision’s stone is in his head and Strange has his stone in a necklace around his neck,” Tony interjects, gesturing to each person in turn.

“Amulet,” Dr. Strange mutters under his breath.

“Your stone disappears if you’re not holding it,” Tony continues, pointing to the sword as Illyana dematerializes it once more. “What’s stopping Thanos from finding it and taking it?”

“I am only person who can use Soul Sword,” Illyana says, arching her eyebrows. “It is bound to me until the next in my line is ready to take my place.”

“My family has been bound to Limbo’s magicks for generations,” Nikolai clarifies when Tony starts sputtering. “Illyana is the keeper of the sword, which means only she can call upon it. Thanos would need our blood to have access to it.”

Tony grimaces. “Still risky.”

“Better than nothing,” your uncle fires back.

“We have a shot of taking down Thanos with the other three Infinity Stones in our camp,” Steve says, planting his hands against the worktable's surface. “Without them, we’re as good as sunk.”

“Well then,” Alex says, smirking. “Let’s make sure we don’t waste our opportunity.”

***

“For the love of god, stop talking.”

“I’m just saying,” Quill starts, spreading his hands in a defensive gesture.

“You’re not saying shit!” Alex snaps, lifting her head from her hands to glare at him. “You’re just wasting our time!”

Once the planning started, a large portion of the crowd dispersed to help wrap up the last of the weapons modification. The leaders from each faction stayed behind –Tony, T’Challa, Steve, Natasha, Thor, Peter Quill, Xavier, your uncle, Alexandra, and Erik—to plan, along with Gamora, Nebula, and Loki so they could offer up information on Thanos, his forces, and the Infinity Stones.

You’d also hung back, since you didn’t have the skills necessary to do the weapons modification. If all I can do is sit around like a nervous lump, may as well do it where I won’t be in the way.

“This plan just isn’t our style,” Quill argues, either immune or completely ignorant to the exasperated sighs and death glares the others are giving him. “We like to take things looser, add a little pizazz.”

“How many times did your parents drop you as a baby?” your uncle asks, staring Quill down. “No, I’m serious,” he adds when Quill glares back at him and opens his mouth to argue. “I’m genuinely at a loss for how you can be this fucking dense.”

“We’re up against overwhelming numbers and powers no one here has ever seen, let alone fought against,” Natasha adds. “We need to allocate our resources carefully if we want even a chance at victory. The three wave strategy is our best chance.”

“Okay,” Quill says, pressing his hands together. “I think we just all need to relax—”

“You’ll be pretty fucking relaxed when I gut you,” Alex grumbles as she pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Look, the way I see it, Thanos can’t take us all at once!” Quill reasons. “If we hit him with everything we have—”

“We have to survive his armies, too,” Tony adds, words clipped. “Or there won’t be any of us for Thanos to be hit by.”

“No.” Alex glares at Quill when he keeps trying to argue, startling him into silence. “Look at them.” She points at Gamora and Nebula. “These are your friends, da? Your teammates and companions, da? This is their abuser we’re facing. If we lose, what do you think happens to them? Do you think someone that wants to destroy half of all life will have mercy for them? Hm? If you care about them, you pick the plan that has the best shot of ensuring their safety. Got it?”

Quill swallows reflexively. He stares down at the holographic display of the future battlefield, jaw working. He exhales through his nose, slow and stuttered, then nods. “Alright. We… we do the three wave strategy.”

“So glad we can agree,” Alex says, turning her attention back to the battlefield schematic. “Now, we were discussing where to put our snipers…”

***

“—I need both their arms. Trust me, it’s the only way this is gonna work.”

“Look, I’m normally all for a little dismemberment, but I don’t think forming our own amputee league is gonna net us a win here.”

You shake your head as Wade banters back and forth with the talking racoon –whose name is Rocket, apparently—then look over at Nathan. “How long have they been at this?”

“Going on three hours now,” Nate replies. A soft, endeared smile flits across his face when he looks at Wade, but his expression sobers when he resumes his soldering job. “How’s the final plan looking?”

“Everyone but Quill was leaning towards a three-wave tactic.”

Nathan grunts. “Yeah, he seems like a jackass.”

“Alex threatened to gut him.”

“Hey!” Wade shouts, sounding genuinely wounded. “No disemboweling without me!”

“Quill wanted to do an ‘all for one’ attack directly on Thanos.” You sit down next to your dad, studying his face while he works. “You’ve actually fought against these people before. Do… do you think dividing our forces up will actually work?”

“The issue is the land and air forces,” Nathan says, shaking his head. He attaches a power unit to the base of a rifle, then starts welding the compartment shut. “This time doesn’t have the necessary shielding to repel the Chitauri and Klyntaar forces for that long. We’ll have to fight the grunts; holding some of our people back to make sure we have someone to take on Thanos is our best bet.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean we’ll win, though,” you point out.

He offers you a melancholy half-smile. “That’s war, kid.”

Your heart sinks further. “Do we even have a chance?”

“Statistics says we do,” Nathan says he strips a piece of wire before threading it into the gun.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Nathan sighs. He looks at you for a long moment, then says, “I think we have the best shot possible with what we have right here, right now.”

You gulp, then nod. It’s still not technically an answer to your question –let alone a positive one—but…

You’ve learned that, sometimes, it better not to dig at these sorts of questions at all.

***

“We’re dividing our forces into thirds.”

You’re all crammed into the rec room post dinner. In the center of the room, by the counter, Tony, Steve, Natasha, and Alex are addressing the crowd in turns.

“The first wave will consist of high stamina fighters and snipers,” Steve says. “There’s a shield system that extends several hundred kilometers around the lab’s perimeter. Wakandan soldiers will join the line of snipers who will pick off any of Thanos’s forces that make it through the shields.”

“We’ll also have any fighters with enhanced stamina on standby, in case there’s a larger breach,” Alex adds. “Their job will be to protect the sniper line from being overrun by the enemy forces.”

“The second wave will be air support,” Tony continues. “Myself, Rhodey, Wilson, and any flying mutants will head out when the Chitauri airships come in. Princess Shuri has a fleet of attack drones at the ready, which can be manned from headquarters in the lab. HQ will have a complete look at the battlefield; all intel will be coming from them during the fight.”

“Third wave is everyone else, save for Illyana, Dr. Strange, and Vision,” Natasha says. “We’ll join the fray when the second wave of Thanos’s forces arrive. The final three” –she nods to Illyana, Dr. Strange, and Vision in turn—“will wait in central headquarters until Thanos arrives, to prevent early capture of the remaining Infinity Stones.”

“In the meantime,” Tony says, “we’re going overtime on modifying rifles to be sonic weapons. They’re more effective against the Klyntar forces than regular firearms. All hands on deck. If you can’t solder, you can run supplies back and forth and help perform diagnostic tests at the firing range. Clear?”

Everyone nods, then breaks off to start working on constructing and testing more “awesome guns.”

You slid your fingers between Piotr’s. Your heart’s in your throat, racing a mile a minute. Your mouth feels dry.

If you were the religious type, you’d start praying. As it is, you make a plea with the universe on the off chance it decides to listen to you –for once.

Please. Please just let this work.

***

“So… about the three-wave plan—”

Tony slams down the compartment piece he’d been working on against the table. He glares at Quill, face strained with barely constrained rage and impatience. “What the fuck is your deal?”

“It’s just not sitting well with me,” Quill continues, leaning against the table. “I’m more of a ‘solo moment’ style person. More of a lone wolf.”

You gape at him. “You… you work with a team of five!”

“I just think that there needs to be a more focused confrontation with Thanos. Y’know, for someone to challenge him, man to man—”

“Some get this idiot out of my face,” Tony snaps, looking around for anyone that might be willing to assist –or, at the very least, drag Quill out of the room by his jacket collar.

“You’re not listening to me!”

“You’re wasting my time!��

“Why does every problem come back to you?” Alex stalks into the work room, eyes glowing a dull shade of copper as irritation takes hold in her. She strides over to Quill, looking like a menace in black leather and Kevlar. “How much more of a nuisance can you possibly make yourself?”

“I’m just pointing out some flaws in the strategy!” Quill argues, holding up his hands in a defensive gesture. “I’m being the devil’s advocate!”

“You’re pointing out dick,” Agent Barton, alias Hawkeye, points out from the side (where he’s modifying some of his arrows to release sonic pulses).

“Look,” Quill presses on, ignoring Clint’s comment. “We need to make sure this thing is airtight—”

“We don’t have time for ‘airtight,’” Nathan growls, cybernetic eye flaring. “The goal is to survive, not to create perfection.”

“I really just think—”

Alex scowls –and then her hand snaps out and closes around Quill’s neck. She slams him against the edge of the table, sneering down at him while he coughs and claws –futilely—against her iron grip. “You’re past the point of being a nuisance. You’re a fucking liability.”

Quill wheezes, face slowly turning red.

“If I was paid every time a man like you told me how to do my job…” Her voice trails off, and she lets out a sardonic chuckle. “Let me make something clear to you, Peter Quill.” Her hand tightens around his neck, which makes some ominous creaking noises as she presses against layers of tissue, cartilage, and bone. “I am not about to have an asshole like you risk the lives of my children, the people who are putting their own lives on the line to protect the world, or the future of the damn universe. If you’re going to keep being a jackass about this…” She smirks. “I’ll kill you. I’ll do it right here, right now. I am not going to have a hazard like you on my team or on that battlefield.” She grins nastily, leaning in closer as Quill’s eyes bug out. “Best thing is, no one really knows you’re here. No tracks to cover, no family to pay off, no authorities to worry about. You’d be an unfortunate casualty in war. No one would fucking miss you.”

A chill runs down your spine. You gulp, stomach twisting as you look from Alex, to Quill, to Alex again. Is anyone going to stop her...

“I really don’t know how to make this any fucking clearer, but since you’ve proven to be thick-headed, I’ll summarize: you stray from the plan in any way, and you’re dead. Got it?”

Quill nods hastily. He gasps when Alex releases him, collapsing to the floor. He hacks and coughs, one hand rubbing at his throat while his skin slowly fades away from an angry magenta color.

“So glad we understand one another.” Alex smirks, then turns on her heel and strides out of the work room like nothing even happened.

You purse your lips, trembling while everyone goes back to work like nothing even happened. You try to focus on sorting pieces into containers for the fabricators to grab from, but with your shaking hands it’s near impossible. You duck your head, gritting your teeth together as your stomach churns angrily. I just want this all to be over.

***

The call comes in a couple hours later.

“We’ve got temporal disturbances outside the shield perimeter,” Kronos shouts while alarms blare overhead. “Thanos’s forces have arrived and are attempting to break through to our location.”

Your stomach drops as everyone starts scrambling. You grab your flight jacket and goggles, throwing them on haphazardly. You start running towards the hangar –then stop and switch directions. “Piotr!”

He pauses when he hears your voice, turning and catching you as you leap into his arms. He kisses you briefly –desperately—then pulls back and cups your face in his hands. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You give him a quick hug, then pull away and start sprinting towards the hanger where the rest of the air support is gathering. Tears sting your eyes, but you wipe them away and force down your fear and preemptive grief. Focus. You have to focus.

It’s time.

#sass writes #piotr rasputin x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #alexandra rasputin x nikolai rasputin #kitty pryde x illyana rasputin #aka my 'fuck you' to the russo bros #get ready for some big canon divergence #i am literally just doing whatever the fuck i want #deadpool fanfiction #x men fanfiction

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alldayangst · 4 years ago

Text

don’t forgive you, Part 1 (Harry Styles)

All of my fics are LGBT and PoC friendly. PAIRING: Harry Styles x famous actor/actress reader.

Warnings: angst and cheating, your little brother Isaac wants y’all together so bad.

“I think those ones are from my plane.” You held your phone up to the sky, your little brother, Isaac, feigning excitement as you both stared at the chemtrails above Osaka International. His ‘ooh’s’ and ‘ah’s’ weren’t to mock you, but because he loved you. This was your first moment of serenity in weeks. “What did you get for your birthday, Is?”

You heard rumbling and short cuts in the audio as Isaac ripped apart his room to reveal his most treasured presents. “Well, Mum and Dad got me a PS5.” he beamed as he held it up to FaceTime screen.

“Nice.” You looked down and laughed because, actually, you got him that; you parents had been too worried about ‘guns and violence & sorts’ to sign off on the purchase “And these Gucci sneakers came in the mail yesterday.” You gasped. He flipped the sole of the patterned shoe to reveal a haphazardly written, ‘All the love. H.’ And then you knew this gift had come from Harry.

“Isaac, did Harry wish you a happy birthday?” Isaac pretended to think about it for a second, then he spilled. “Yeah, he called me like two days ago and wished me a happy birthday.” And maybe that would have been sweet, but Isaac’s birthday was more like ten days ago.

You hadn’t received a call from Harry. You blocked his number.

Two days later and closer to the Atlantic, Harry was starting to feel like pulling teeth was easier than reaching you.

“What?” Mitch asked as Harry gawked at him. He didn’t have to do the puppy dog eyes or prayer hands for Mitch to know Harry was begging, desperate for an olive branch to be extended to him, for a safety net to catch him, for a white flag to embrace him. Harry needed a lifeline. Literally.

Mitch wouldn’t be the one to offer it to him though. He shook his head “If Y/N doesn’t want to talk to you, then they’ve got a good reason.”

The huff Harry let out could’ve started storms. But it told Mitch all he needed to know, that Harry knew it too.

You’d blocked his number before after fiery feuds and silent treatments and so forth but this time it felt like you’d barricaded yourself off. Every call to one of your family members or friends was followed by a single ring and a robotic request for him to leave a message after the tone. All except oblivious Isaac.

Harry found it funny how, with two lovers on his arm, he’d never felt so alone.

So he left the studio out of the back door entrance, and staggered to big, red London telephone box in hopes it would grant him the release of hearing your voice tickle his ears one more time.

“Hello?” Your voice had rendered him speechless. Harry never needed a script nor a lyric sheet, the world wasn’t a stage, but the thought of speaking to you after what he did left him feeling like he was gasping for air and he cursed himself and the butterflies in his stomach for not coming to you better prepared. “Hello? Is my phone working?” Harry could hear your co-star, Daisy, mumbling about how bad service was in the temple and suggested you walk outside to hear better. That gave Harry approximately 5.6 seconds to gather the words he need to say together, but each word felt like broken glass, and Harry knew no matter which way way he picked them up and phrased them, they’d hurt you either way. “Y/N, it’s me. It’s Harry.”

You sighed. Never a good sign.

“I wanted to talk to you. You’ve been avoiding me recently.”

“I wonder why.”

“My next tour stop is Japan.” Harry looked through the windows of the telephone booth to see an unsubtle Mitch popping through the blinds with a curious face.

Harry wasn’t lying. His next tour stop was indeed Japan, but he wasn’t on tour for another three months. And knowing this, knowing Harry like the back of your hand, you let out a long held exhale. You didn’t know whether it was out of torture or comfort knowing that yours and Harry’s otherwise smooth sailing relationship had finally met its match. “Harry, I’ll see you around.” And that’s what made Harry decide that the future just had to come sooner.

“Y/N, where are you right now?” It’d been radio silence on Harry’s end since your phone call two days ago. Never had you grieved his virtual kisses and frivolous GIFs this much before. Isaac’s voice flowed through your earbuds as you picked up a can of Monster.

“I’m in a 7-Eleven, Is.” The line went static for a bit, then you heard the clicks of Isaac’s keyboard & you missed the time in which you were 13 and could’ve sworn your phone was your most prized possession. Now that Harry was gone, maybe it was.

“And what is a 7-Eleven?” Isaac’s face was coated in a bright white light, emitted from his phone screen. He was slow with his words and stumbled on them like he was reading something. “Would you describe it as more of a Sainsbury’s, Tesco’s or Asda?”

“Is, what are you talking about? You’ve been to 7-Eleven before with me in the States.” You adjusted your earphone to check if you could hear him properly. “And Sainsbury’s? What is that - Is that like a Ralph’s?”

And suddenly, every word justified as brown hair and green orbs for your eyes to feast upon stumble into the 7-Eleven. You’d describe this place as more of a nightmare.

“Harry.”

Taglist: @swiftingday

This is part of the ‘don’t forgive you’ series. You can read the prologue here.

Credit for the gif goes to: /harrysimpact.

Main Masterlist

‘Don’t Forgive You’ Masterlist

#harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles cheat #harry styles cheating #h: i'm not crying #h: alldayangst

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anothermansjeans · 4 years ago

Note

Miss Anne-Marie from the harry styles prompt list may I rq 62, Just let me adore you with Spencer Reid. Congrats on your milestone🥰

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

prompt: “just let me adore you”

word count: .4k

a/n: thank you!! and omg being called miss anne-marie feels so nostalgic LMAO (i taught a dance class for like 5 year olds and i miss them djfnmd) but i hope you enjoy!! <3

masterlist | prompt list | 400 celebration

One of the many things you have learned since dating Spencer was that he was a very humble man… almost too humble. You were able to detect the small hints of self-depreciation when you were just friends, but even now whenever you compliment on the smallest things he acts as though he doesn’t really deserve it. You tried to shut it down— many, many times, but he’d always find a way to slip the little “it’s nothing, truly” in there every single time.

You were one for self-love and appreciation. You loved to be unapologetically yourself, so seeing your boyfriend downplay anything he’s ever done, well, that doesn’t sit right with you. It doesn’t sit right with you because he is literally the most successful person you know. Getting multiple doctorates and degrees, getting through life with an eidetic memory that’s probably full of trauma and having an IQ of 187— those are things you defined as successful, and Spencer fit the criteria perfectly.

So in the late hours that you sat across from him in the bullpen and listened to him ramble on about how the equation he used to solve a puzzle some sick unsub left the team was just “basic math”, you realized that you had to put a stop to it.

“Oh my, God. Just let me adore you, Spence.”

The crinkles between his eyebrows became noticeable as he furrowed them, and you walked over to his desk, sitting on it while taking his hands in yours.

“You have a problem with accepting compliments and showers of love.” You let out a sigh as you saw the uncertainty in his eye, “I hope you know, you’re allowed to have an ego boost every once in a while”, you teased.

He didn’t say anything at first. You were scared you had crossed a line he carefully placed, but when he stood up with your hands still holding his, he brought you into a hug, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I know. It’s just… you guys expect me to know everything. I’m literally just doing the bare minimum.”

You immediately brought his face out from your neck and traced his cheekbones as you spoke, “Spence, when I first met you, my mind was blown. I’m sure no one has expectations when it comes to you because we all know you will go above and beyond every time. You’re not a robot; no matter how many jokes Derek makes.”

He let out a breathy chuckle before slotting his lips onto yours as a thank you. There were many things you knew Spencer still had to learn about when it came to self-love, but you could also spend your whole life reminding this man that he is so much more than a brain, and hopefully someday, you would do just that.

permanent tag list: @openheart12 @boxofsparklingmuses @averyhotchner @dorotheuh @hey-there-angels @muffin-cup @imhreid @s1utformgg

let me know if you would like the be added or removed!

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #am’s 400 celebration ✨#anne marie answers

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parkersbliss · 5 years ago

Text

Quarantime: Cat addition

pairing: avengers x platonic!reader, can be Peter Parker x reader if you want it to be

Warnings: me missing 1D, cats, uh capitalization

WC; 900ish

synopsis; Quarantine has really gotten to everyone so you guys adopt a kitten! Without Tony’s permission...

Masterlist | Taglist

Quarantime

honestly, at this point, you guys can't be in the same room as the other

not that it was a problem

everyone spent their days in their own rooms

tony was always in the lab, creating yet another useless robot

peter and you were always sleeping bc uh yes??

but not always bc you had a youtube channel to run

when the team found out that school was no longer in session

they RIOTED

I think tony might've actually cried??

something about "no pls, no more pop culture references"

no one left the compound anymore

of the useless crap tony made, he did make a cleaning robot and it was NOT pleasant to go through

the moment you walked into the compound it would hose you down with something

tony insists its safe but everyone has doubts

you and peter did manage to sneak out once

you guys adopted a kitten at the local Petco

you had managed to keep it secret for a while

but nat & Wanda got suspicious when you & peter kept asking for raw fish

eventually, you had to let them in, but they agreed to keep it from tony

and then sam, bucky, and cap got in on it

harry styles jr had snuck into the training room bc he smelt tuna from sams sandwich

bucky (surprisingly) ran up to the kitten and picked him up and peppered his face with kisses

you burst into the room

"hey, guys have any of you seen a small- harry styles jr!"

"whos harry styles jr? and why is he a jr?" cap asked

"harry styles is exactly what his name applied, hair with style. you guys could learn something from him. except buck"

bucky smiles at you, harry styles jr meowing from his arms

cap and sam roll their eyes

"but why is there a kitten in the first place?"

"peter and I got lonely, pls don't tell tony"

"but-"

bucky made sure nothing was spilled between them

then clint and bruce found it bc ofc nat told them

but they were chill with harry styles jr

it was a big secret the whole team kept from tony

everyone fell in love with harry styles jr and they all took turns keeping him from tony & thor

until they had salmon for dinner

the moment the salmon was placed on the table a small paw swiped it

tony screamed

"wHAT was that?"

everyone played dumb

"what was what?"

"quarantine must really be getting to you"

"there is a piece of SALMON missing don't tell me you didn't see that paw"

"we didn't??"

you dived under the table to grab harry styles jr

it was smoothly and you held the kitten in your arms until he took a swipe at tony pants

you shoved harry behind you as tony lifted the table cloth

"(Y/N), what are you under the table?"

"uhhh i'm massaging peter's calves?"

peter practically spit out his drink at the table

tony looks at you mouth agape "so why did something scratch at me"

"you see, um i grew my nails out and peter accidentally kicked me and i must've accidentally hit you"

tony nods, "uh huh" he drops the table cloth and you grab harry and hand him off to bucky

it went like that for a while, harry styles jr being passed around the table until it reached peter

he didn't have enough time to react before the kitten pounced onto the table

"AH HA!" tony screeched

that's when all hell broke loss

harry knocked over a glass of water and started running around bc his paws were wet

it was a mad race to try and grab him, food flying everywhere glasses shattering

a few webs in the mix from peter

and some excessing glass breaking bc loki liked to break things

thor actually screamed and jumped onto a chair, pointing at it

"what is THAT"

"it's not a that!" you huffed "his name is harry styles jr and he's a ragdoll kitten!"

eventually wanda caught the kitten with her magic and set him down in your arms

"so care to explain?" tony asked

"peter and I got him a few weeks ago"

"weeks?!"

"the whole team might've been in on it??"

tony pinched the bridge of his nose, "why?"

"he's cute!" wanda and nat cooed

"and cuddly!" bucky agreed

"were lonely," you and peter said

"we have robots!"

everyone kind of just stared at him

"alright fine! what was his name again?"

"harry styles jr"

"he's named after the british singer from that one boy band with the hair?"

"YES and i'll have you know, if they had four more kittens you would've had a liam payne jr, niall horan jr, louis tomlinson jr, AND zayn malik jr. it was going to be called the kitten direction"

"oh my god"

"let me grieve in my loss, tony"

"they broke up five years ago!'

"I DONT CARE THEYRE COMING BACK"

tony let you keep harry

but he made you promise you wouldn't start the kitten direction

he left the kitchen mumbling something about his ruined salmon

you let thor hold him and he ended up loving him

"can we get another?" he asked, nuzzling noses with harry

you and peter looked at each other

"between us three, we already have another"

you whipped out a bengal cat "meet liam payne jr!"

Quarantime- season 1, episode 7: we got a kitten!

tony found out after three weeks

how?

peter posted liam payne jr on snapchat

on the bright side, tony invented a robot to scoop the kitten litter

he then proceeded to tell you that it didn't mean you could adopt more

but it didn't matter bc your family was now complete!

until you find three more kittens

🏷 tag list: @bibbidibobbidibarnes @strangelycami @abitofeverythinggg @cams-lynn @ducks @keenmarvellover

Strike though - unable to tag/find you

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tomboyneedshercoffee · 5 years ago

Text

Met Gala || Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Y/N and Peter go on a mission to capture Harry Osborn at one of the most heavily guarded places; the Met Gala.

Word Count: 2k

Author’s note: I watched Ocean’s 8 and Hoco back to back and thus, this fic was born.

Warning: Fighting?? Creepy dude??? IDK man a busted lip?

-----

When you were recruited for SHIELD, you knew you would be needed to fight alongside the avengers or workaround in the advanced lab in the Helicarier but never in a million years did you think Fury would send you and Peter Parker on a mission to infiltrate the Met Gala. Celebrities you stalked all day on twitter were now inches from you, wearing gorgeous ensembles from famous designers you could never pronounce and you were hardcore fangirling.

You tried to keep in your excitement as you looked across the room, seeing your favorite actors and influencers all mingling together without a care in the world. You were breathing the same air as Beyonce and Harry Styles, dear god, life felt great. Little did they know, this event had been hijacked by New York’s charming new villain, Harry Osbourn. Your mission with Peter was simple; find Harry and take him back to SHIELD’s headquarters for questioning without causing a mass distraction.

As you reached for a crystalized champagne glass off of one of the server’s silver platter, you hear a tsk sound off in your hidden earpiece inside your earrings.

“ Drinking on the job,” Peter clicked his tongue as he looked behind his shoulder, scouting you from across the ballroom,” your mother would be so disappointed.”

You smiled and took a small sip, taking in the room,” I’m blending in Parker. You should do the same. As for my mom, I’m in the same room as Idris Elba so I think she’ll be more jealous than upset.”

You took a quick glance towards Peter, who was sitting at a vacant table. He wore a black suit with a thin gold and blush material lined thinly along either side of the opening of his suit jacket. The inside of the suit was a simple white button-up that had no buttons at the top, revealing a bit of his chest.

While it was the Met Gala and you were excited to see what kind of flashy SHIELD had managed to get, they went the opposite. They gave you a black, long sleeve gown with a delicate lace pattern towards the bottom of your dress. Even though it was already out of your comfort zone from how fitting it was, the dress had a deep V cut on your chest that gave little to the imagination. While the dress was flattering, you knew you could’ve settled for your old prom dress when you heard that the gown you were wearing was two times the price of your apartment.

“ My little Peter Parker looks like he’s going to a Las Vegas communion,” you teased as you gave him a distant longing look,” but you look nice. You should wear suits more often, maybe then you could get a girlfriend.”

“ Ouch, Y/N,” Peter laughed, even though his heart stung a bit,” just because you look like that doesn’t mean you can go around breaking my heart.”

Even though Peter couldn’t see you from where you were, you still felt your cheeks to see if it was noticeable that you were blushing hard. Ever since sophomore year in high school, you had always hopelessly flirted with Peter but his attention was always Spiderman this and Spiderman that. It wasn’t until your senior year that you both would flirt with each other shamelessly yet that made things even harder for you. Now you weren’t sure if he was just joking or actually flirting with you and you could only blame yourself.

“ Keep your eyes open for Harry, not me,” You said as you finished your champagne glass and set it down at a table,” but I like the attention so you may continue flirting with me after we’re done with our mission.”

You heard Peter gasp loudly followed by silence which made your heart stop.

“ Peter? Peter do you have eyes on Harry?”

“ No! I think Blake Lively is about to come up and talk to me, bye!”

You craned your neck and sure enough, you picked Peter out of the crowd and saw the goddess herself sitting next to him smiling. Lucky bastard. You kept your eyes glued to Peter as you collided with someone.

“ Woah watch yourself there,” You heard as you felt your anxiety raise through the roof. Please don’t let it be Pedro Pascal, please. I would die from embarrassment if I just bumped into the Mandalorian, Pedro Pascal, himself.

You apologized but when you hesitantly looked up, hoping it wasn’t a famous celebrity you had obsessed over, your heart dropped. Harry Osborn.

“I’m sorry but do I know you?” Harry asked as you thought quickly of what to do,” I swear you look familiar.”

You weren’t prepared to see him so soon, your plan of attack was to find him not for him to find you. You snapped yourself out of it and focused on what you knew best, flirting.

“ No, you don’t. Trust me, you would remember a face like mine,” you said smoothly, feeling your confidence boost from the energy of the night and most likely the dress.

Harry smirked,” I like you already. I’m Harry, Harry Osborn.”

Oh you knew. You knew everything about him from the countless files that SHIELD had provided you. His estranged father was Norman Osborn and is the president of Oscorp, one of the leading multinational corporations in the US. Harry was around the same height as Peter, standing at 5' 10, weighing 170 pounds, and had dark blue eyes that held more than just a charming sparkle. You knew how he liked his coffee, why he hated Halloween, where he vacationed when he was in grade school, and when he lost his virginity. Knowing how much intel SHIELD had on Harry was not only scary for him, but for you since who knows about dirt Fury had one you aswell.

“ Michelle Jones,” you said on the spot, not wanting him to know your real name. He reached for you hand to shake but instead, placed a soft kiss on your knuckles.

You smiled politely even though you mentally rolled your eyes. You just needed to get him somewhere private so you could take him out with the tranquilizer that Peter had in his pocket.

“ So Harry, what brings you to the Met? You must be pretty influential to get an invite,” you said as you started walking away from your spot, knowing that there was an exit behind the staircase and that Harry would follow you.

“ I would call myself an entrepreneur, I dabble in some tech companies here and there. Just changing the world one robot at a time,” Harry shrugged as he followed next to you, taking the bait,” I bet you’re probably into something along the lines of modeling.”

You couldn’t help yourself but to let out a lousy laugh as he held a set of double doors open for you, leaving an empty hallway,” That’s cute but no, I’m one of the leading programmers at Stark Industries. But sure, I guess I’m just a pretty face too.”

“ Brains, beauty, and an attitude? Well today’s my lucky day then,” he flirted as he placed his hand on your lower back, leaning in close to your ear,” let’s get out of here yeah?”

You almost showed your visibly disgusted expression on your face but you hide it well underneath a sweet smile,“ I admire your boldness and while I am very flattered, I have a boyfriend. I think he would actually love to meet you, let me just go find him.”

“ Y/N, there you are,” Peter’s voice piped behind you as you watched his face fall for a second and then recover,” who’s your friend?”

Your smile faltered,“ R-Right, this is Harry Osborn, Harry, this is my boyfriend...Ned.”

Peter shook Harry’s hand as Peter tried to hide a grin from the fake name,” Nice to meet you, Harry.”

Harry nodded and looked between you two as Peter placed his arm around your hip, bringing you closer,” Well Ned, you’re a lucky man. She’s very smart and might I say very beautiful.”

Peter clenched his jaw as Harry looked you up and down longingly as if he could see straight through your gown. You felt Peter’s grip on your waist tighten but he knew that he had to stay calm so he didn’t compromise the mission.

“ Yes, Y/N is the whole package,” Peter said a bit more confidently as he gave you a small kiss on the cheek,” aren’t you baby?”

Before you could open your mouth, Harry interrupted and took a step forward,” That’s funny, she told me her name was Michelle.”

Peter looked back at your face and while you were now panicking on the inside, you only nodded in response,” Michelle Y/N Jones. Only my close friends call me Y/N.”

“ Really? You know, now that I’m really thinking about it,” Harry looked between you two and pointed at Peter,” you look like a...Peter Parker. And you, Look like a Y/N L/N. Which is funny because I know two people who work for SHIELD who are allegedly after me. Funny huh?”

Your breath hitched and without thinking, Peter lunged at Harry and the two wrestled to the floor. You watched as the two struggled on top of one another before Harry got the upper hand, giving him a few good punches before he started to choke him.

You looked at the cart next to you and grabbed a bottle of Champagne before slamming it over Harry’s head. In an instant, Harry slumped over on top of Peter who breathed a sigh of relief.

“ D-Did I kill him?” You asked as you dropped whatever was still intact of the bottle.

Peter shook his head, taking in your appearance. While you didn’t have any physical marks on you, your hair that was neatly tucked into a bun was now loose and all over the place.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Peter asked as he moved your hair out of your face, his lip was definitely busted,”Y/N I am so sorry about blowing your cover and I’m sorry that you-”

You leaned over towards Peter and planted a light kiss to his cheek, which made him instantly turn red. You didn’t know what came over you but the damage was done, now you just had to get out of here.

“ Less talking and more lifting,” you said softly as you both looked down at Harry who was very much unconscious,” The car is waiting downstairs for us so I’ll grab his legs and you grab his arms?”

“ I can carry him myself,” Peter said and you knew he could because of his ‘super strength’ but you shook your head and insisted over a hundred times that you were a strong, capable woman.

Peter took one last longing look at you since his face couldn’t get any redder and nodded as the two of you both lifted Harry down the private staircase. The two of you said nothing, only sharing an occasional groan as you used most of your strength.

“ So what, are we dating now?” Peter asked as he accidentally bumped Henry’s head against the railing.

You huffed and stepped carefully, not wanting to trip over your dress,” I know I drank like three glasses of champagne but I would definitely remember if I asked you out, Parker.”

“ Well you introduced me to Harry as your boyfriend.”

You stopped moving and placed Harry down on the stairs, your muscles that you hardly ever worked on were already aching. You placed your hands on your hips and shook your head,” Okay well, I technically said you were Ned so that means Ned is my boyfriend.”

You swallowed and looked up at Peter,” But if this is your attempt at trying to ask me out then yes, I will go out with you...only if you carry Harry the rest of the way.”

Peter hid his huge grin and only shrugged plainly, even though he wanted to jump out of excitement,” Fine by me.”

You watched as Peter lifted Harry with ease as if he weighed absolutely nothing.

“Show off,” you said as Peter smirked, knowing that he could get used to this.

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barnesandco · 5 years ago

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Ayesha’s 1k+ Writing Challenge!

Writing Challenge Submission Masterlist

Hey, everyone, I'm so happy to be back online - I think I was only gone for a week so that announcement was very extra of me - and to be introducing my first writing challenge! I'm so honored and flattered that so many people enjoy my work, and I'm incredibly grateful for your support since I joined this community. Tumblr is my greatest escape, and you've made it a very welcome and comforting one.

A sense of community and friendship is particularly important in these trying times, and I extend my heartfelt prayers to everyone struggling right now. I'm here to listen if there's anything you need to say, and I'm sorry I can't do much more than be a metaphorical shoulder to cry on, and to offer this distraction as a brief reprieve from whatever you might be going through.

In order to present a gift of relief, and to share and create more stories of heroism - not that any of it can ever compare to the courage displayed by our health professionals and essential workers these days - and to honor and promote our collective of Marvel fanfic writers, I've decided to host a writing challenge. You don't have to follow me to participate - although that would be appreciated - you just need to follow the rules I've outlined under the cut. If you need clarification on anything, don't hesitate to ask! I hope you'll join, and I look forward to seeing what everyone comes up with.

Rules:

Your fic can be about any character(s) from the Marvel Cinematic Universe. You can also include original characters that you create. If you want to write a romantic fic, I think it goes without saying that it shouldn't be underage (or having an excessive age gap), non/dub-con, incest, abuse, power imbalance/manipulation (e.g. employer x employee or teacher x student), etc.

The sky’s the limit when it comes to the type or genre of the story, so let your imagination fly! You can write reader-inserts, pairings of pre-existing characters, OCs, or even just solo fics about the character you've chosen. I'm open to canon fics, AUs, fluff, smut, angst, romance, platonic fics, and whatever else you guys can dream up. (If you're writing smut, please let me know, as there are some additional guidelines I'm setting for that.)

Word count is minimum 250 words, and anything above 500 words must have a keep reading tab. Multi-chapter fics will obviously be accepted - and with a lot of enthusiasm! - but please make a masterlist for any such series.

Kindly include any and all warnings that apply to your story.

The deadline for submission is the 31st of December, 2020.

Please tag me @barnesandco in the completed fic - and in every chapter of a series if you've chosen to write one - and also tag your work with #ayesha1kwritingchallenge. If I don't acknowledge that I’ve seen your work within a week of you posting it, please DM me.

One entry is allowed per participant, and you can send in an ask or a DM to participate, in which you should mention the one prompt you would like to use and for which character(s) from the list below.

Prompts

Dialogue Prompts:

"You fell asleep on me." --Taken by @lancsnerd

"Screw you." --Taken by @need-a-fugue

"I've got this." --Taken by @filia-sapientiae

"I'd never forgive myself for it." --Taken by @oreostars

"I trust you." --Taken by @readerandcinephileingeneral

"Oh, I'm so offended." --Taken by @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall

"Who, me? I would never." --Taken by @kaunis-sielu

"I don’t want to hate her/him/them." --Taken by @suz-123

"I can't explain it, but loving her is just… easy." --Taken by @littledarlinwrites

"You're my everything." --Taken by @chrisevansdaddycap

"Leave me alone." --Taken by @constantaking

"That's disgusting." --Taken by @ruffalomakesmyday

"What on God's green earth was that for?" --Taken by @sweetwritesx

"Is that a threat?" --Taken by @glxy-otter

"Promise. Please just- promise me." --Taken by @blue-like-barnes

"Oh, I could kiss you right now, you brilliant, brilliant woman/man/person!" --Taken by @megthemewlingquim

"You know that'll never work on me." --Taken by @allaboardthereadingrailroad

"I'd let you if you asked." --Taken by @wordywarriorwrites

"___, I swear to God, if you do that again, I'll feed you to Tony's stupid robot." --Taken by @nekoannie-chan

"You can't do this." + "Then I'll die trying."

"You're stronger than anyone I've ever known." --Taken by @companionjones

"How did I get here?" --Taken by @thestorydetective

"Why are you smiling this wide this early in the morning?" --Taken by @tinymalscoffee

"What's the worst that could happen?" --Taken by @phant0m-queen

"I can't believe they haven't caught us yet." --Taken by @indyluckycharlie

Song Prompts:

Watermelon Sugar - Harry Styles --Taken by @softpeachbarnes

Finally//Beautiful Stranger - Halsey --Taken by @shield-agent78

To Build a Home - The Cinematic Orchestra --Taken by @whistlingwillows

Floating - Alina Baraz ft. Khalid --Taken by @chuuulip

Summertime - Ella Fitzgerald

Wind Beneath My Wings - Bette Midler

To Die For - Sam Smith --Taken by @hailhydra920

I Scare Myself - Beth Crowley

Speechless - Dan + Shay --Taken by @captain-kelli

Growing Pains - Alessia Cara

Levitating - Dua Lipa --Taken by @samingtonwilson

Ain't No Sunshine - Bill Withers --Taken by @mermaidxatxheart

Human - Christina Perri

10 000 Hours - Ella Mai

Despacito - Luis Fonsi ft. Daddy Yankee

Let's Do It - Ella Fitzgerald --Taken by @smediumsmeatbae

Honey - Raveena --Taken by @opalsandlace

Talk Too Much - COIN --Taken by @subtlebucky

Put a Little Love on Me - Niall Horan --Taken by @buckysbest

Thinking Out Loud - Ed Sheeran

Meet Me on the Battlefield - SVRCINA

Centuries - Fall Out Boy

Titanium - David Guetta ft. Sia

Stay - Rihanna ft. Mikky Ekko --Taken by @jalapenobarnes-main

Eyes Open - Taylor Swift --Taken by @helahades

One-Line Prompts:

Recovery is tender, straining yellow-blue over his/her/their shoulders and delicate in the shadow of his/her/their smile. --Taken by @iced-capsicle

Laughter tastes like cotton candy. --Taken by @rogersumbra

" All the world’s a stage, and all the men and women merely players; they have their exits and their entrances; and one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages." -As You Like It, William Shakespeare --Taken by @shakespeareanqueer

How do you miss something you never had? --Taken by @shellbilee

They're stuck, and it's all ___'s fault. --Taken by @buckybarney

Gabe Jones' French skills come to good use. --Taken by @raindroptv

Self-discovery is a path nobody likes taking, but sometimes, there is no other choice.

"Demons run when a good man goes to war." - Doctor Who, Steven Moffat --Taken by @harley-sunday

Star-crossed lovers find a galaxy to take refuge in from the rest of the universe. --Taken by @sgtjbuccky

The Second Law of Thermodynamics states that everything goes from order to disorder. --Taken by @alyxkbrl

One-Word Prompts:

Sacrilege

Bibliophile --Taken by @nacho-bucky

Soldier --Taken by @writing-mermaid

Chrysanthemum(s)

Schadenfreude

Deja Vu

Picasso

Self-Partnered

Petrichor --Taken by @redhairedfeistynerd

Serendipity --Taken by @xoxoeeveewritez

Momentum

Equilibrium

Entropy

Resplendent

Anemone(s)

Effervescence

Sweetheart

Absolute

Echo --Taken by @wintersoeldiers

Nefarious

Picture prompts:

1. Taken by @infj-slytherclaw

2. Taken by @starrysebastians

5. Taken by @corneliabarnes

7. Taken by @bucky-smiles

8. Taken by @monarchofallisurvey

Special thanks to the following authors, who not only inspired and initiated my desire to write, but then encouraged me, supported my work, and were - and still are - tremendously helpful. Others in the following list I befriended later on, and I'm so grateful that I did, because they've helped transform my experience on this site, too. Point is, all of these people are so kind and amazing and marvellous beyond what words can describe. Thank you:

@samingtonwilson @suz-123 @nacho-bucky @evanstarff @tropicalcap @kentuckybarnes @buckyreaderrecs @mermaidxatxheart @corneliabarnes @buckyland @bucky-smiles @sebbytrash @jalapenobarnes

And thank you of course to my wonderful, magical followers who comment and reblog my stories, and give me all the praise I do not deserve. Thank you for your kindness and your enthusiasm - I cherish it and do everything I can to earn it. Special mentions:

@readerandcinephileingeneral @notsomellowmushroom @sonjashuterbugjohnson @anjali750 @severelytinyeagle @redhairedfeistynerd @parmisaanowl @starnight-charmer @alyxkbrl

I'd like to conclude by saying that I debated whether or not to host this writing challenge now, in a time like this. I decided to do so in the end because I need it. Call me selfish, but I need a reprieve. I need to feel like this disaster that has us surrounded right now isn't all there is to the world. And if I've learnt anything from being on this platform, it's that you're very rarely alone. So I hope that this activity can provide some semblance of hope for others that feel the way I do, and if not, then at least a little escape.

So my last but not least thank you goes to everyone who participates in this challenge and thereby makes this shelter from the world's storm, a little stronger, a little safer, and a little warmer.

I’m excited to see what everyone comes up with, and I look forward to making some new friends. Thank you all and good luck!

#ayesha1kwritingchallenge #marvel #avengers #mcu #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #fanfiction #writing

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al-winchester · 5 years ago

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Commission Guide

Commission Rules and Guidelines + How to Request

-Fandoms-

My list of fandoms I write for is constantly growing as I read and watch and play more things. I also may have forgotten to list a few, so don't be afraid to ask about a fandom! An up to date list of fandoms I write for can be found at the end of this post for easy reference, or via the link in my description.

-Genres, Prompts, and Content Rating-

I can write for any genre you would like. Specify which you are interested in, or let me surprise you.

I can write from prompts you see on my page, prompts you find other places, or a plot you came up with. Just be sure to word it carefully so the right idea is portrayed! A fun idea is using a song as a prompt. It allows for lots of ways to interpret it!

Content I write is most often PG-13, but I can do R-Rated. This being said, please notify me of anything that may offend you so I can create something you will enjoy reading. Alternatively, let me know what is okay to incorporate into the story.

-Default Writing Style-

There are things I do in my writing if there is no specifications made in that area:

- If it is a x Reader story, I write in first person (Example: I adjusted my bag.)

- I usually follow the plot of the canon universe, save for a few changes necessary to make the story work

- I use some swearing, if it is in character (This can be censored or omitted)

-Things I Will NOT Write-

- Incest, pedophilia, beastiality

- Anything that glorifies suicide or self-harm (different from depicting it)

- Anything that glorifies abusive behavior (different from depicting it)

- Anything that promotes racism, homophobia, or sexism (that includes the kind of fake feminism that states that women are better than men)

- Fanfiction of real people is not my thing. I don't want to write it.

- Anything that gives out personal information about you or others

- Any sort of hate promotion

- Real life politics (Not my area of expertise at all)

If you have questions about if your request breaks my rules, please ask! The worst I can do is tell you I won't accept your request. I am happy to clarify anything you may have questions on.

-Examples of information to give for a commission-

The more of the following you include in your request, the easier it will be for me to have a handle on what to create for you. Here are the things I recommend listing in your request:

- the main character(s), and how to refer to reader character (If doing a reader based story)

- a prompt or plotline (a song can work as a prompt too)

- Point of view

- Any alterations to the fictional universe being used as a base (Alternate Universes and Universe Alterations)

- Word count limit (This determines how much you pay. If more is written, it is not charged for.)

- When you would like to have it done by

All this being said, there are lots of ways to go about this. If you only have a general idea of what you want, that is fine too! I am happy to work with you to get what you want out of the story. Alternatively, the more details you give, the more of them I can integrate into the story. Last, you could go as simple as asking for a character and giving a word limit and let me work my magic! It is completely in your hands on how to make a request.

-Pricing-

Price is a penny per word up to 2000 words.

After for pieces longer than a limit of 2000 words, the price is 1 and 1/2 pennies per word.

For easy reference, a 500 word commission would cost $5. A 2500 word piece would cost $37.50. A table of word counts and prices is at the end of this post for easy budgeting.

You set the word limit. If I go over the limit, you only pay up to the limit. Consider the rest a bonus for getting me inspired. Standard limits are between 200 words and 2000 words. Anything longer will require more planning.

-Logistics-

Keep in touch - We can communicate via email or messaging. It’s your choice.

Payment - When the commission request is accepted, I will send you an invoice via PayPal or Square based on your preference. The invoice can be done one of 2 ways, either pay in full up front, or pay half before and half after completion.

Publishing - I will not publish the commission unless I have your express permission to do so. If it is published, you can choose to be tagged in it or not.

Receiving the document - I will send you a PDF file with your completed commission.

Altering a finished commission - If there is something you want changed about the commission for any reason, I will do so and send you the new version. If the alterations require 100 or more words to be added, the base rate of a penny per word will be charged. If the alterations remove 100 or more words, the amount removed will be refunded.

When you send in your request, please use the phrase 'Cybernetix is the future' as a pass code so I know you have read through this and understand my process.

-Pricing Table-

Word Count - Price

200 - $2

300 - $3

400 - $4

500 - $5

600 - $6

700 - $7

800 - $8

900 - $9

1000 - $10

1100 - $11

1200 - $12

1300 - $13

1400 - $14

1500 - $15

1600 - $16

1700 - $17

1800 - $18

1900 - $19

2000 - $20

2100 - $31.50

2200 - $33

2300 - $34.50

2400 - $36

2500 - $37.50

2600 - $39

2700 - $40.50

2800 - $42

2900 - $43.50

3000 - $45

-Fandom List-

Remember, if you don't see your fandom on here, it might not have been added yet, so ask me about it.

Arrow

Better Than Us

Bioshock

Brooklyn 99

Carnivale

Detroit: Become Human

Disney

Doctor Who

Ex Machina

Fallout 4

Flash

Grease

Halo

Harry Potter

Haunting of Hill House

Hereditary

Indiana Jones

James Bond

Jumanji

Jurassic Park

Kingsman: The Secret Service

Legend of Zelda

Lord of the Rings

Love Death + Robots

Marvel

Miraculous Ladybug

Mistborn

Moulin Rouge!

Night at the Museum

Outer Worlds

Overwatch

Phantom of the Opera

Pokemon

Ready Player One

Sherlock

Skyrim

Star Trek

Star Wars

Stranger Things

Supergirl

Supernatural

The Adventures of Tintin

The Arcana

The Expanse

The Princess Bride

Tron

True Blood

Welcome to Night Vale

iZombie

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aion-rsa · 8 years ago

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15 Times A U.S. President Showed Up in Marvel Comics

Love him or hate him, as of January 20, 2017 Donald J. Trump has officially become the 45th President of the United States of America. However, what you may not have known is that this will also make President Trump the leader of the Marvel Comics Universe’s America.

RELATED: SALES OF MARCH SOAR AFTER DONALD TRUMP INSULTS JOHN LEWIS

Since the company’s humble beginnings as Timely comics, Marvel has made something of a tradition out of honoring American Presidents by featuring them in their comics. Though their appearances are sometimes little more than cameos or passing topical references, some of our nation’s leaders have been key figures for full issues or even in entire story arcs! Since we’ve just begun a new Presidency, there’s no better time for us to look back at 15 of the times an American President made an appearance in a Marvel comic.

DEADPOOL KILLS 31 ZOMBIFIED US PRESIDENTS

Back in 2012, as part of their MARVEL NOW initiative, Marvel relaunched Deadpool with a new #1 helmed by the creative team of writers Brian Posehn and Gerry Duggan, along with artist Tony Moore and colorist Val Staples. The book’s first arc (issues #1-6), appropriately called “Dead Presidents,” finds Deadpool being called in by S.H.I.E.L.D. to fight and kill reanimated versions of 31 US Presidents, spanning from George Washington to Ronald Regan.

Necromancer, a magical former member of S.H.I.E.L.D. with the ability to bring living creatures back to life, decides to reanimate all of the former Presidents of the United States in hopes that their guidance can save America from itself. This plan completely backfires when his magic not only corrupts the former Presidents, but also gives them superpowers. After deciding the best course of action is to destroy the country and start fresh, Deadpool (along with the ghost of Benjamin Franklin) is called in to take them all out and save America. It’s also worth mentioning that 39th President Jimmy Carter also makes an appearance in issue #1, even though he’s still very much alive.

FRANKLIN DELANO ROOSEVELT CALLS FOR BACK-UP

The 32nd President of the United States, Franklin Delano Roosevelt began making appearances in Marvel comics all the way back in 1940 when Marvel was still known as Timely Comics. His first appearance was in issue #10 of Timely’s first series “Marvel Mystery Comics,” a book that featured multiple stories about some of Marvel’s earliest characters like Namor the Sub-Mariner, and the original (robotic) Human Torch.

FDR made his comic debut, in a story penciled by artist Steve Dahlman, that follows Electro (not to be confused with the Spider-Man villain), a Robot created by Professor Philo Zogolowski and funded by the US Government, to fight crime and corruption. When the villainous Cuban scientist Dr. Bruno Varoz develops a synthetic blood formula that allows him to reanimate human corpses, he creates an army of the undead and sends them to attack major American cities. When conventional means fail, President Roosevelt calls in Professor Zog and Electro to deal with Varoz. After defeating his armies and tossing him in a vat of acid, Zogolowski is personally congratulated by FDR for defending his country.

HARRY TRUMAN GETS KIDNAPPED

In a story by Stan Lee and Mike Sekowsky featured in issue #34 of “Human Torch Comics,” President Harry Truman is kidnapped by a two-dimensional being known as B4, who is the leader of his two-dimensional world of Flatula.

The issue begins with the original Human Torch and his sidekick, Sun Girl, watching a baseball game together, when suddenly the ball flattens and disappears mid-pitch. The game is then interrupted by the breaking news that the President has also vanished while addressing the public. Eventually the Torch figures out what’s going on and the duo travel to Philadelphia in time to see the words on the Declaration of Independence disappear. As the Liberty Bell starts to flatten itself, Human Torch and Sun Girl grab on, transporting themselves to Flatula.

After being captured by the locals and taken to B4, the Torch and Sun Girl are taken to a zoo holding everything stolen from the 3-dimensional world. When the Torch finally Flames on, he discovers that since fire is 3-dimensional, he and Sun Girl are immune to the effects of the flat dimension. They then burn everything between them and the zoo before freeing the captives and returning home with B4 as their prisoner so that the Flatulans can never kidnap anyone again.

DWIGHT D. EISENHOWER GETS KIDNAPPED

In “What If?” #9, by writer Don Glut and artist Alan Kupperbuerg, Iron Man calls a meeting with Avengers members Captain America, Thor, Vision, and Beast to show them his newest invention, a dimensional viewer. He explains that the device allows them to see a video feed of an alternate Earth where another group of heroes somewhat similar to the five of them also founded a superhero team called The Avengers, albeit in the 1950s.

F.B.I. agent Jimmy Woo recruits Marvel Boy, 3-D Man, Gorilla Man, the Human Robot and the goddess Venus to rescue President Dwight D. Eisenhower from the supervillain Yellow Claw and his Masters of Evil-style team of villains made up of the hero’s individual nemeses. After completing their mission, President Eisenhower disbands the team, believing that learning about super-powered beings like The Avengers would send the public into a panic. The “Avengers” agree and disband until a time when their world needs them again.

MERLIN TRIES TO STEAL AMERICA FROM JOHN F. KENNEDY

In his last contemporary appearance in a Marvel comic, and just a few short weeks before his assassination, President John F. Kennedy almost has the country stolen right from under him by Merlin the Wizard in “Journey into Mystery” #96, by writers Stan Lee and Robert Bernstein, and artist Joe Sinnott. We learn that Merlin is in fact a mutant who used his powers of telepathy, levitation, and teleportation to fake magic.

Shortly after using his powers to send a missile test off course, Merlin teleports himself to Washington D.C. and storms the White House intending to take control of the country from JFK. Thor and Merlin duke it out on the White House lawn with Merlin using the Washington Monument as a giant spear, and animated the Lincoln Memorial statue with his “magic” for back up. Realizing their powers were pretty evenly matched, Thor decides to throw a Hail Mary and turn back into his old alter ego, Dr. Donald Blake, in an attempt to convince Merlin that he’s a shapeshifter with countless more powerful forms. Merlin buys Thor’s tall tale, so Thor commands him to return to his sarcophagus for another 1,000 years.

LYNDON B. JOHNSON PARDONS BRUCE BANNER

President Lyndon B. Johnson really had his hands full as the President of Marvel’s America. While he was in office S.H.I.E.L.D. was founded, he reunited Nick Fury and the Howling Commandoes, and Kang the Conqueror nearly took over the planet. He was also a fairly prominent figure during a few Hulk storylines back when the character was gracing the pages of “Tales to Astonish.”

In issue #64, written by Leon Lazarus and drawn by Carl Burgos, Bruce Banner finds himself locked up in a government prison after allegedly attempting to steal an invention he created for the army. Bruce is moved to Washington D.C. for a trial, and receives a visit from Rick Jones who tries to convince Bruce to reveal himself as the Hulk. Bruce refuses, believing that exposing himself could put America at risk if their enemies learned who he was and how he got his powers. He remarks that he could only expose his identity to someone who he knew would never let the information get out. This gives Rick the idea to pay a visit to none other than President Lyndon B. Johnson himself. After flashing his official Avengers card, he gets an audience with the President and earns Bruce Banner a pardon.

RICHARD NIXON STAGES A COUP

You may know he was also the Commander-in-Chief during Galactus’ assault on Earth, but are you aware that President Richard Nixon also acted as Number One, the leader of the Secret Empire? Originally a satellite organization of HYDRA, by the time Nixon is their leader, the Secret Empire is an independent group seeking to overthrow the American Government by capturing mutants (including notable X-Men like Beast, Angel, and Ice Man) and channeling their powers into a flying saucer-like super-weapon.

In “Captain America” #175, written by Steve Englehart and drawn by Sal Buscema, we see Cap, The Falcon, Cyclops, and Jean Grey (still acting as Marvel Girl) are able to defeat the members of the Secret Empire, but Nixon escapes into the White House before being corned in the Oval Office by Cap. Rather than accepting his capture, Number One removes his mask, revealing his identity to Cap (but not the reader) as a high ranking government official before committing suicide. Though we don’t see Nixon’s face, the implication was so clear that Marvel tried to distance themselves from the story’s connection to the Watergate scandal in the issue’s letters section. However, writer Steve Englehart has since come out and said he absolutely intended Number One to be President Nixon.

GERALD FORD IS ALMOST ASSASSINATED

In “Incredible Hulk” #185, by writer Len Wein and artist Herb Trimpe, President Gerald Ford is scheduled to visit the Hulkbuster Base to congratulate Colonel Glenn Talbot on escaping from Russian captivity. It just so happens that Colonel John Armbruster has also captured Bruce Banner, tranquilized him, and locked him up deep beneath the Hulkbuster Base. When President Ford arrives at the base later that day, he’s shown around by Talbot, General “Thunderbolt” Ross, and Ross’ daughter Betty. Ross takes the President down to where Banner is being held to brag about his capture, and Bruce even mocks Ford by calling him Vice-President (Ford was VP until Nixon’s resignation, if you recall).

As the trio shows the President around the base, Armbruster learns from a secret report that Talbot’s “escape” was actually a plot by the Russians, and that the man they believe to be Talbot is in fact a Russian spy with a bomb implanted in his chest who was sent to kill President Ford. Without warning, Armbruster bursts into the room and tackles “Talbot” over the edge of a railing. The spy’s body then explodes, killing both of them in the blast.

JIMMY CARTER (AND GERALD FORD) RUN AGAINST HOWARD THE DUCK

In the Marvel Universe, the 1976 Presidential race was between incumbent President Gerald Ford, the man who defeated him, President Jimmy Carter, and…Howard the Duck. While working as a security guard for the fringe “All-Night” Party, Howard learns the group’s leader has recently dropped out and they’re looking for a new candidate. After he discovers a bomb’s been placed in the crowd, Howard rushes on stage during the new candidate’s speech and manages to save everyone by sacrificing the event’s giant cake to smother the bomb, and the group immediately names Howard their new candidate.

Despite numerous attempts on his life and disagreements with members of his party, Howard manages to craft a solid platform. He vows to crack down on pollution, cut military spending, give amnesty to draft-dodgers, strive for bipartisanism and improve education. While neither Presidents Carter nor Ford take Howard seriously, he still manages to poll with 30% of Americans saying they’d vote for him (although 48% said they would kill him), before a doctored photo of Howard taking a bath with his sidekick Beverly begins a sex scandal in “Howard the Duck” #8, written by Steve Gerber and drawn by Gene Colan, that quickly ends his Presidential bid.

RONALD REGAN FIGHTS CAPTAIN AMERICA

“Captain America” #344, written by Mark Gruenwald and drawn by Kieron Dwyer, tells a story where the supervillain Viper (later known as Madame Hydra) poisons Washington D.C.’s water supply with a mutagenic agent that causes people to hallucinate and turn into “Snake-Men.” President Ronald Regan is one of the many people affected by the toxin, and Steve Rogers (then acting as The Captain) fights him inside the Oval Office.

Ronald Regan strips down to his underwear as he succumbs to the mutagen, gaining scales and super powers. He then attacks Cap, who is forced to evade rather than fight back in order to keep from killing the President. Luckily for both of them, Regan sweats enough during their brawl to work the toxin out of his system, and he quickly loses his scales and returns to his human form. We’re shown that he at least temporarily retains his sharpened canines, but unfortunately Regan’s days as superhuman seem to end here.

GEORGE H.W. BUSH HAS PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY

Our 41st President, George H.W. Bush, makes arguably the least significant appearances of all the Presidents on this list. That being said, he did make a handful of fairly notable cameos in the first volume of “Iron Man” during the late ’80s and early ’90s.

He made his debut in the Marvel Universe in “Iron Man” #247, written by David Michelinie and Bob Layton, who also acted as a penciler for the issue. President Bush briefly appears on television to claim he had no knowledge of collusion between the F.B.I. and the crime syndicate known as the Maggia. He later returned to the book in “Iron Man” #277, by writer John Byrne and artist Paul Ryan, when he’s alerted that hidden missile silos across the Midwest have launched nuclear warheads straight at Russia as part of a Soviet plot to begin World War III (Iron Man and Black Widow intervene and save the day, though).

BILL CLINTON EXILES CAPTAIN AMERICA

President Bill Clinton is featured prominently in the four-issue miniseries celebrating Cap’s 50th anniversary, “Captain America: Man Without a Country.” His first appearance in the arc is in “Captain America” issue #450, by writer Mark Waid and artist Ron Garney, when President Clinton charges Cap with treason and exiles him from U.S. soil.

After meeting with Sharon Carter in London and getting a new uniform without the stars and stripes, the duo travel to Moldovia, where the villain Machinesmith has built an Argus Cannon to try and force a conflict with the U.S. While trying to invade the base where the cannon is being held, Cap and Sharon get captured and taken to Machinesmith, who then explains that he’s stolen the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier’s override codes. He directs the carrier to crash into a nearby mountain while he teleports to Camp David to assassinate the President. Cap is ultimately able to foil the Machinesmith and save President Clinton, earning his thanks and the reinstatement of his citizenship and title as Captain America.

GEORGE W. BUSH PASSES THE SUPERHUMAN REGISTRATION ACT

Marvel’s 2006 “Civil War” event kicks off when the New Warriors, a group of superheroes with their own reality show, take on a group of villains way out of their league in a quest for ratings instead of calling in the Avengers. Among the villains they attack is Nitro who during the conflict, explodes and kills over 600 people (including 60 children). Tony Stark is accused of being responsible for the culture of superheroes (due to him bankrolling The Avengers) by one of the children’s parents, so he decides it’s time for him to get involved.

In response to growing public demand for greater accountability from superheroes, President George W. Bush meets with Stark, Reed Richards and Hank Pym in “Civil War” #1, by writer Mark Millar and artist Steve McNiven, to develop the Superhuman Registration Act. He expresses his concern that Captain America is the figurehead for the rebellion, and asserts that they will need their own figurehead before Iron Man steps forward to tell him that they will deal with Cap.

THE CHAMELEON TRIES TO REPLACE BARACK OBAMA

In “Amazing Spider-Man” #583, written by Mark Waid and drawn by Barry Kitson, the supervillain known as the Chameleon attempts to impersonate and kidnap President Barack Obama on his Inauguration Day so that he can take his place as the next President of the United States. The real Obama manages to escape and his Vice-President – Joe Biden drives – him to the inauguration to stop the Chameleon.

Peter Parker is also in D.C. trying to sneak into the inauguration without a press pass. Just as he’s about to be arrested for trespassing, Senator John McCain recognizes Peter as a photographer for the Daily Bugle and gets one for him. Once inside, Peter sees that two Obamas have arrived to the inauguration, so he becomes Spider-Man and exposes the imposter by asking the two of them a series of questions that only the true President Obama would know how to answer.

DONALD TRUMP THREATENS TO SUE LUKE CAGE

President Donald Trump’s appearance on this list is unique because, due to his celebrity status prior to the election, he’s the only President whose appearance happened before his actual Presidency. In what is arguably the least flattering appearance on this list, Trump is briefly shown getting into a conflict with Luke Cage in “New Avengers” issue #47, written by Brian Michael Bendis and drawn by Billy Tan and Michael Gaydos.

When Trump’s limousine is blocking the way of an ambulance trying to respond to an emergency, Luke Cage lifts the vehicle out of the way before carelessly dropping it back on the street. Trump jumps out and threatens Luke with a lawsuit, but Cage responds by slamming his hands on the hood and screaming at him to “Get (his) ass back in the car!” This causes Trump to retreat to his limo and rolling up the window as a crowd of civilians applaud.

Which Marvel series do you want to see President Trump show up in first? Let us know in the comments!

The post 15 Times A U.S. President Showed Up in Marvel Comics appeared first on CBR.com.

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