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waywardxrhea · 7 months

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Jealousy: a Bucky Barnes one-shot

pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 3k

You are working with Bucky, Sam, and Zemo to get intel on the Power Broker when the night takes an unexpected turn...

content warnings: minors DNI (18+) - smut (semi-public, oral - male receiving, fingering), PWP, jealousy, groping, drinking, language, name calling (slut - not by Bucky), some violence.

“You can come out now,” Helmut Zemo called to you through the bathroom door of his private jet you were currently holed up in after getting ready for an evening of espionage.

“I feel weird…” you muttered, looking at yourself in the mirror.

Sam, Bucky, Zemo, and you were getting ready for an intel gathering mission and this time it was your turn to gather intel. Why that meant you had to have your tits nearly falling out of the dress Zemo picked out, you didn’t know, but you were so close to getting the break you needed you would do nearly anything to get answers.

“Everyone feels weird at these things. The dresses are uncomfortable but when you’re somewhere looking at art you need to look like art yourself,” he told you.

“Fine,” you sighed, giving yourself one more once over as the plane started to descend.

On anyone else you would have said the dress was gorgeous. It flowed like a river when you walked, it was sparkly enough to be seen from space, and the combination of the low cut neckline and the slit in the leg was enough to make the devil himself blush. It just wasn’t you. Ever since you became an agent for SHIELD, the CIA, and now freelancing with this band of misfits, you’d grown accustomed to wearing pants and tactical gear and in your downtime it was leggings and chunky sweaters. Nothing even the slightest bit revealing.

So when you exited the bathroom you couldn’t help the blush that creeped up your neck as Sam gave a low whistle from where he stood in his steel blue pressed tux, saying, “Man you’re looking good!”

“Can it,” you told him, rolling your eyes and shoving your hands into the pockets of the dress. That part at least Zemo took your advice on when designing the dress which you guessed you were grateful for…

“I told you you’d look beautiful,” Zemo said. “A thank you would be nice.”

“Thank you,” you told him with a sarcastic smile, turning away and rolling your eyes.

As you turned away, Bucky emerged into the main area of the plane, adjusting his tie and giving you a once over. “I think you’ve made him speechless,” Sam said teasingly, nudging Bucky in the ribs after he didn’t say anything for a few seconds.

Sam had always teased the two of you because he knew you liked Bucky but you’d just never made a move. He’s got bigger things to worry about than me, you’d always told yourself. Besides, he’s on those dating apps and all, so that’s proof he isn’t interested, not in you...

“No time for puppy eyes, we’re here,” Zemo said as the plane touched down. “Does everyone remember the plan?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I go in first and blend in for a while. Admire the art, catch the attention of the target, chat him up for a bit. Once I get what we need on the Power Broker I’ll excuse myself to the restroom and we make a break for it.”

“Correct,” he told you with a nod.

“The three of us will go in separately and pretend to look at the art while making sure things don’t go sideways,” Sam added.

“Right again. What is the code word for if you become compromised?”

“Champagne,” you told him instantly. Now this was the stuff you were built for.

“Are we ready?” Zemo asked as the group approached the door to the jet.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said, making your way to the door and carefully picking your way down the steps to head into the party.

“Don’t strut or anything,” Sam told you teasingly as he watched you feign confidence on your way in.

“Shut up, I don’t strut,” you snapped.

“You do tend to strut when you’re in heels,” Zemo said.

“Okay let’s not focus on my walk you guys!” you said before approaching the door to the art show.

“Here, let me get that for you ma’am,” a suited man said, opening the door for you with a smile and a wink.

You gave him a smug raise of your eyebrows in return as you walked through the door, narrowly missing the hand that was outstretched, no doubt trying to cop a feel. “I feel gross…” you mumbled as you walked further in, grabbing a glass of champagne from a tray nearby.

While looking around, something caught your eye so you made your way to an art piece that you had only ever seen in textbooks. It was beautiful… A man slid up next to you to admire the piece as well, and casually asked, “You like it? It’s one of a kind.”

“It’s wonderful, I didn’t know this piece was even on the market!” you said, wonder in your eyes over the art in front of you.

“Maybe it could be yours if you give me something in exchange,” the man said suggestively, making you throw up a little in your mouth.

You turned to see who the man was and saw that it was the target. Like some miracle he had walked up to you, but you weren’t about to take it for granted. So as much as it pained you to do it, you reached over to his arm and brushed your fingers over it and asked in your most innocently seductive voice, “And what may that be?”

“All right we’re all in, if this guy goes too far, say something and we’ll come get you,” Sam told you through the earpiece as he casually made his way over to the nearby bar.

While he said this, you and the man made your way over to the VIP area where you two sat down on a couch and were served drinks of your choice. He glanced down at your breasts quickly before asking, “So what’s your name darlin? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

You giggled and put on the charm as you walked two fingers up his chest, telling him, “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

“That I would,” he replied, placing a hand on the bare portion of your thigh. He snaked his other arm around your back and rested his hand on your ass, pulling you close. “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to attend these events alone.”

“Play your cards right and I could be your plus one from now on…” you told him, the corners of your lips turning up in a small smile.

The next half hour felt like forever as you pushed for more drinks for your pleasant company and innocently sweet talked your way into the answers you needed. When you felt like you had enough intel to make our next move, you sweetly told him, “I’m so sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me, I need to go to the girls’ room. These drinks went right through me!”

“I’ll be here when you get back sweetheart,” he told you with a smile as you got up, grabbing your ass once more when you stood.

As you turned the corner to make it seem convincing that you were actually looking for the restroom, you suddenly felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you toward them. You just about took them out before realizing that it was just Bucky. “What the hell, Buck?” you asked, taken aback.

He put his finger to his ear, turning off his coms before whispering sharply, “Why’d you let him touch you like that?”

“W-what?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing.

“We’re getting out of here, you two need to get out before we’re compromised,” Zemo told you over the coms.

“Be there in a minute,” you told him before turning your own off, following Bucky’s actions. Getting back to his question, you said, “I did what I had to do to get answers. Why do you care?”

“Because no one should be touching you like that,” he replied, looking deep into your eyes.

You laughed a bit before asking sarcastically, “Oh yeah because it should be you right?”

What happened next shocked you to the core. Because Bucky, the man who had stolen your heart, said, “Yes,” before crashing his lips down onto yours, pinning you against the wall hard. A million thoughts ran through your mind and your head spun as you tried to process what was happening all while sinking into his soft lips.

“Bucky…” you whispered between kisses as he held you close. Never breaking the makeout session, he felt around for any door handle he could find before pulling you into whatever room it revealed.

Once the pair of you were in the room, he hiked you up onto the counter before resting his forehead on yours, saying, “It killed me seeing that bastard touching you like that. I wanted it to be me.”

With your senses finally kicked in after the shock of the kiss, you shook your head and whispered, “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying that because of how I look right now. If we were back at the hotel and I was in my leggings and sweater you’d just look the other way…”

“No,” he said as he looked deep into your eyes, pulling away and taking your hand in his. “This is something that’s been on my mind for a while, but I never had the courage to say it until now. I thought I could push away my feelings in order to not compromise our friendship and partnership but… I wanted to kill that guy for touching you like that.”

You opened your mouth to say something in response, but nothing came out. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into another kiss. When you got back to it, your hands wandered each other's bodies desperately, Bucky’s metal hand slipping under your dress to cup your breast and mess with your sensitive nipple. You gasped at the cool touch and he took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

As you ran one hand through his hair, he slowly slid his right hand down to your thighs, not moving any further than there without permission. Not even caring how dirty it made you feel to do so, at the touch you spread your legs for him and pulled away for a moment to whisper, “Please touch me…”

“As you wish,” he whispered, taking no time at all to begin toying with your swollen clit. He nipped at your earlobe before mumbling, “God you’re so wet.”

“That’s because you drive me crazy,” you admitted. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this…”

“Oh yeah?” he asked while gently pushing two fingers in and feeling around for that special spot inside.

“Oh God yes,” you whimpered, your head rolling back as he found what he was looking for. No one had touched you like this in so long and it just felt so good and so…right with it being him.

He added his thumb to the mix, rubbing your clit while his fingers worked their magic and you had to bite your knuckle to keep from screaming, it felt so good. Seeing your reaction, Bucky smirked and started kissing your neck, telling you between kisses, “I guess we shoulda talked about it because I’ve been dreaming of this for a while. First chance I get after tonight, I’m fuckin’ you into oblivion, doll.”

Those words were all it took to bring you impossibly closer to the edge. The idea of Bucky doing unspeakable things to you made everything that much better and you could feel yourself shaking as you approached your high. “Bucky…” you whispered shakily.

Bucky stood there just admiring you as he picked up the pace of his fingers inside your sensitive cunt. He gave you a sideways smile before whispering, “God, just look at you. You’re so beautiful. Those little gasps and whimpers all for me? That’s enough to make me wanna go all night,” he said, making you even weaker in the knees. Your head rolled back and your breathing started to become uneven as he worked his magic inside, the pace somehow getting more vigorous the closer he brought you to release. The smirk was audible in his voice as he added, “Come on doll, I can tell you’re close, just cum for me.”��

And just like that with a few more strokes of his fingers you were experiencing the most intense orgasm you had in years. “Oh my God, fuck…” you moaned before he captured your lips on his own once more while you rode it out on his fingers which continued to pump in and out lazily as you clenched around them.

“I think I can get used to that sound,” he told you with a smile once he pulled back from your kiss.

You couldn’t help the school-girl-like giggle that escaped your lips before you got serious again, kissing him after jumping off the countertop. You spun the two of you around and pinned him to the counter this time, your fingers trailing their way down to his belt and messing with the buckle waiting for permission. “You don’t gotta do anything for me right now, the others are waiting. I’m sure they’re getting worried,” he told you.

“I think for once you need to put yourself before others,” you whispered, ghosting your fingers over the prominent tent in his slacks.

He chuckled before giving in, saying, “Make it quick.”

“Oh trust me I can do that,” you told him with a wink before undoing his belt buckle and letting his slacks fall to his ankles. You toyed with the waistband of his underwear for a moment before pulling them down as you sank onto your knees in front of him.

As you kissed the swollen tip of his penis he sucked in air through his teeth, telling you, “Don’t be a tease.” You giggled and ran one finger on the underside of his cock, the vein pulsing beneath your touch, and that had him like putty in your hands and asking, “Please?”

With that final almost whimper of a please from the man standing above you, you took his impressive length in your mouth. You got as far back as you could before beginning to bob your head, his right hand gently resting in your hair to guide you while his left had a death grip on the counter behind him.

When you hollowed out your cheeks, Bucky’s knees almost buckled and he tightened his grip on your hair. At this you pulled back and teased his head with your tongue before going back in. The way his breath hitched in his throat and the way he started moving his hips showed he was losing the restraint he had on himself meaning that he was close, so you used your hand to work what you couldn’t with your mouth and that’s exactly when he lost it.

He had never felt anything like the feeling he was experiencing right now as he gently thrust his hips forward, relishing in the feeling of pure pleasure he was getting from your mouth. “Fuckin’ hell!” he groaned as he came to his high, his warm release filling your mouth while his grip on the counter tightened, his metal hand breaking the marble in the process.

Coming back up to eye level with him after he finished, you smirked before telling him, “Quiet down Sergeant, you don’t want anyone to catch us, do you?”

“Oh next time you’ll be regretting that, doll,” he growled playfully before pulling his clothes back up while you fixed your makeup with what you brought in your pockets. As you fixed your hair too, he looked at you in the mirror and said, “Really though, that was nice. Something I’ve been wanting for a while.”

“Me too,” you replied, kissing him tenderly once you looked presentable again.

After you and Bucky got yourselves calmed down from all the excitement you headed back out to the party so you could go back to the jet. As Bucky adjusted his belt while the pair of you exited the room, you noticed the man from earlier was standing down the hall talking with someone. He seemed to notice Bucky adjusting his belt and that goofy smile on his face so he rolled his eyes and shoved past you, muttering, “Slut.”

“What did you just call her?” Bucky asked, sudden white hot rage filling his whole body.

“I called her what she is, a slut!” the man spat loudly.

And that was all it took for Bucky to wind back and punch the man in the face, taking care to use his metal arm to do so. Once the man was on the ground, Bucky took the man’s collar in his hand, yanking him up and growling, “Don’t you ever talk about a woman like that again. Got it?”

“Got it!” the man whimpered as Bucky threw him back down on the ground.

With that settled, you two left the party and got back to the jet, walking hand in hand. Sam took one look at you and told Zemo, “You owe me twenty bucks.”

“We don’t know that!” Zemo retorted defensively.

“Oh don’t we now?” Sam asked with a laugh. He turned his attention to the pair of you and asked, “Did you or did you not go MIA so you could have sex?”

“I- What- We-” you tried to say, stumbling over your words as your face heated up.

Bucky rolled his eyes and chuckled before saying, “Whichever one bet that we had sex lost.”

“I told you!” Zemo shouted victoriously.

“But did you at least do something?” Sam asked, fishing in his wallet for a twenty.

“That’s for us to know and you to not find out,” Bucky replied, kissing your knuckles before leading you to a seat on the plane where you could rest your feet for the flight. As you sat down and relaxed into Bucky’s strong embrace, you had a feeling that tonight was the first of many pleasurable nights to come.

a/n: so this is my first one shot on tumblr! I wrote this one night when I just couldn't get Bucky out of my head, I hope y'all enjoy!

and if you don't follow me or know my account, feel free to check out my Steve Rogers long fic here!

#bucky barnes x reader #smut #marvel #bucky barnes #oneshot

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hippiegoth97 · 28 days

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Roam Pt.1: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by me :)

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Description: The year is 1991, and your husband Eddie and his band Corroded Coffin is on an international tour for their first major album. You're traveling with the band in their private jet. On a flight between tour stops, Eddie's fear of flying leads to some interesting events...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, rockstar!eddie munson, female reader, drug use, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, mentions of fear/anxiety about flying

Word Count: 3.7k

divider by @strangergraphics

Roam Pt. 1

Good Evening, I'm Kurt Loder for MTV News, bringing you the latest in music entertainment. Tonight, breakout metal band Corroded Coffin are in the midst of a headlining world tour for their smash hit album, Hellfire Rising. So far, they've completed their North and South American legs of the tour and are head-banging their way through Europe. The band caught their big break in 1989, signing with Megaforce Records to produce their debut album. Given their meager beginnings in the town of Hawkins, Indiana, the band has remained humble as they reap the benefits of success. Here we have a clip of their notorious front-man Eddie Munson, describing how the band has taken to their newfound fame.

Interviewer: How are you and the band handling being one of the biggest metal bands right now?

Munson: Ya know, nothing really feels all that different than when we were a local band of nobodies. We just like makin' the music and being a voice for the freaks. And I've got my lovely wife Y/N to thank for helpin' me stay grounded, she knows how to bust my balls just enough to keep me in line. [Laughs]

Interviewer: Sounds like you're a very lucky man, Mr. Munson.

Munson: Oh, please. Call me Eddie, I'm a Rockstar, not a stock broker. [Laughs again] But yeah, I truly am. She's the greatest woman in the world, we wouldn't be here without her encouragement and support. Aw, look man, I gotta get goin'. Goodbye, England and next stop, Germany! [Sticks out tongue while making rocker devil horns]

Well, he certainly is a lively character. Be sure to look out for their upcoming sophomore album, Freaks Only, releasing next spring. I'm Kurt Loder, and this has been MTV News. Coming up next, a solid hour block of your favorite music videos of the summer. Good night.

You click off the TV, tossing the remote beside you on the sofa. "You look so sexy on TV, baby." You say to Eddie, sitting sideways on his lap as you and the band watched the special newscast together on their private jet.

"Oh, really? Better than the real thing, dollface?" Eddie asks teasingly, his hands resting on your hip and thigh.

"Mmm, never." You reply in a sultry tone, leaning in for a kiss. He happily meets you halfway, the hand on your hip migrating to your ass. He squeezes the flesh roughly, making you moan.

"God, you guys need to get a room." Gareth says, rolling his eyes in his chair. The other members mumble their agreement.

"Alright, we'll turn down the heat for your sake, hm?" You break away, leaving Eddie's lap to snort a line of coke from the coffee table in front of you. You inhale it, sniffing harshly. You lazily slump back against the couch, taking Eddie's hand in yours.

"You know, you could've at least mentioned us, Eddie. We are the actual band, after all. All you talked about was Y/N." Jeff pipes up, crossing his arms in frustration.

"Guys, you know how much I value you as equal members of the band. And it's MTV, dude. They catch you off guard and take a small soundbite, you know? Besides, we've all been equally featured in magazine interviews and sit-down talk shows. You guys are my friends, and my brothers. You mean the world to me, we've been playing together since we were kids." Eddie replies, trying to calm the brewing storm.

"You guys are just jealous that the media favors the front-man. It's not Eddie's fault. You think I pitch a fit every time some female fans get a little too bold with him? No, because I know I'm what's important to him, not some slutty groupies. Just like how you all matter more than a fuckin' MTV ambush." You don't mean to overstep, but you wish the guys would chill out a little.

"When we want your opinion, Yoko, we'll ask for it." Alex retorts. You just scoff.

"Oh, real original, man. I'm the wife, so I'm ruining the band. Jesus, guys. You realize you're like family to me, right? Like Eddie said, brothers. I'm just trying to explain why things seem one-sided. You're a band, a team. You think Metallica bickers the way you do? I don't think they'd be half as successful as they are if they did." It may be the coke talking, but you feel like a valid voice of reason for the group, always settling their little squabbles. Despite being grown adults, they still act like little boys at times.

"That's enough, out of all of you. Please, let's not ruin the buzz we have going from how kickass tonight's show was, hm? We're gonna take off soon, so get settled in. Come on, Y/N." Eddie stands, calling the bitchfest to a close and dragging you to the private bedroom at the back of the jet. "Night, guys." He says with a sigh, shaking his head.

"Night, dickhead." The boys call to him.

"Ha ha, very funny." He shouts back, opening the door to your room. You walk past him, sitting on the bed. Eddie closes the door, clicking the lock. The room is pretty eclectic, there's a bed with black silk sheets, a mini fridge, and a small bathroom. There's a large mirror on the ceiling, the walls are painted a deep red, and plush shag carpet covers the floor. Eddie had been very particular about how he wanted the bedroom on the Corroded Coffin jet to look. It's your safe place that you share together, away from the others. Before heading on tour, Eddie had struggled with a fear of flying. Going to LA to sign a record deal and work on the album took a toll on him. And for the first couple legs of the tour he needed to be sedated before each flight. But lately he's calmed down about it, though takeoff and landing still give him major anxiety.

"You alright, baby? How 'bout you come get buckled in with me?" You smirk at him, getting under the covers to fasten your seat belt that Eddie had built into the mattress.

"You could stand to butt out every once in a while, Y/N." He says in annoyance, climbing into bed next to you.

"I'm just trying-"

"Yeah, I know, you're just trying to help. I get that we've all known each other since we were in middle school and everything. But you're not in the band, okay? If we're having a problem, just let us handle it." You're about to protest, but he puts a hand up to stop you. "I appreciate your concern, babydoll. Really, you know I value your opinion over anyone else's, okay? But you don't need to be such a backseat driver." He takes your hand in his, kissing it gently. "I love you, angel. Can you just take a step back, for me?" He pleads with his big brown eyes, you can never say no when he uses them on you.

"Alright, Eddie. I'll let the band handle the band's problems. And I love you too, babe." You kiss his cheek, laying your head on his shoulder as the plane begins to take off. Eddie holds you close, tensing at every movement the jet makes as it ascends into the air. "It's okay, love. I'm right here, and we're buckled in safe." You look at him, trying your best to keep him relaxed.

"I know, I'm a lot better than I used to be. Just hate how shaky getting in and out of the damn air is." He always gets a little pissy when he's scared, but you've always found it endearing. "Maybe if I had a distraction, I might be able to ignore how awful this is?" You're unsure what he's referring to.

"And what did you have in mind, baby?" You ask coyly, hoping he means what you think he does.

"Well...we could, you know..." He gulps, unable to form full thoughts as his fears of falling from the sky take hold. You decide to take charge, placing your hand under the covers to ghost over his cock. He moans, eyes boring into yours.

"Is this what you were thinking of, sweetheart?" You play innocent, teasing him. He just nods, still stiffened up with stress. "Okay, baby. I'll take care of you. Can you lay down for me?" He does as you ask, occasionally trembling like a leaf. "It's okay, I'm gonna make it all better." You grip his length through his tight jeans, causing him to groan. You palm him through the material, winding him up. He gazes at you, panting in anticipation.

"More, please." He manages to say, almost whining. You heed his request, unbuckling his belt and unzipping the fly of his pants. He kicks off his sneakers, helping you pull his jeans down. Eddie pulls his muscle tee off as well, revealing his chest to you. He's only in his boxers now, and your hand grips him again through the thin fabric.

You take a moment to gaze over his form, comparing how he looks now to your high school days. He still has the long hair, and his clothes have stayed the same for the most part. But he's gotten a few more tattoos in recent years, one of which is your initials on his V-line. You have his tatted on your hip, so you always remember that you belong to each other. He also wears eyeliner now, which is very sexy, and has his ears and nose pierced. He convinced you to let him grow a goatee and mustache once, but it didn't really suit him so he thankfully shaved them off. It's crazy to look back on the years gone by, you never thought you'd see Eddie's wildest dreams come true. But you've been by his side from the beginning, and you intend to stay here until the very end. He and the guys worked so hard to get here, you couldn't be more proud. And now you've got him moaning in your grasp, in your bed, in your special room, on your private jet. The mere concept of that blows your goddamn mind every time. "I'm the luckiest woman in the world, you know that?" You say, looking deep into his eyes.

"Is that so? I suppose that makes me an even luckier man then." Eddie breathes heavily, begging with his eyes for you to remove his final layer and touch him fully. You appease him, leaving him naked inside his seat belt. His cock stands at attention, the head swollen and leaking precum. You lean over it, letting a drip of spit slowly fall from your lips onto it. Eddie stares at you, enraptured by every move you make. You spread the saliva around his head, rubbing it down his length. "Fuck, Y/N." He moans, his hand squeezing your thigh.

The pilot suddenly speaks through the intercom. "Evening, everyone. Just letting you know we've reached a comfortable cruising altitude, and the skies look nice and clear for our journey tonight. You're all set to move freely in the jet." The speaker clicks as he concludes his announcement.

"Perfect timing." Eddie says, quickly unbuckling your safety belts before pouncing on you. He smashes his lips on yours, hungrily sliding his tongue in your mouth. You moan into the kiss, gripping the sides of his face. He gropes your tits over your shirt, squeezing roughly as he lays over you. His mouth releases yours, migrating down your cheek, your jaw, your neck.

"Someone's needy." You quip, running your fingers through Eddie's hair. You drag your nails around his scalp, and he groans against your throat. He bites down on your flesh, sucking it into a deep purple hickey. You love it when he marks you, letting everyone know that you’re his. "Oh, Eddie." You moan, arousal spreading in your panties.

"I fuckin' love you so much." He says breathily, cupping your cheek as he gazes down at you.

"I love you too, my sexy Rockstar." You smirk, boldly gripping his cock in your hand again.

"Shit, Y/N." He groans at your touch, desperate to be inside you. "We gotta get you out of these clothes." He pulls at the hem of your shirt, and you sit up to lift it over your head. Eddie immediately reaches behind you to remove your bra, exposing your breasts to the cool air. You expect him to start massaging them in his hands, but he instead starts unbuttoning your leather pants. He pulls them down harshly, along with your lace panties. You lay down on the pillows, completely bare to him. He sits on his knees as his eyes scan over you, drinking in your beautiful form. "You're so gorgeous, love. And you're all mine."

"All yours, baby." You reply, giggling from his words making you blush. Even after all these years, you still feel so strongly for each other. He smirks at you, playfully grabbing your left foot. He kisses the bottom of it, and you try not to react to how it tickles. His lips move upwards, meeting every inch of skin he can. He crawls slowly towards you as he kisses your ankle, your knee, until he reaches your inner thigh. You sigh out at how soft his plush mouth is against your skin, your insides setting aflame. He's about to reach your dripping cunt, when he backs off to repeat his actions on your other leg.

Eddie's eyes never leave yours as he works, letting you know how much he worships you as his true love. He creeps up your other leg, reaching your thigh again. He glances at your glistening pussy, his smile growing wider. "You're so wet for me, angel. You want me to taste you?" His breath fans over you, whispering across your clit. He massages your thighs with his hands, tentatively waiting for your answer.

"Yes, please. Show me how much you love me, darling." He doesn't waste a single second before diving between your legs. His tongue licks a long, deliberate stripe from your entrance to your bundle of nerves. "Oh, God." Your hands ball up the sheets beneath you, pleasure already beginning to take hold. Eddie's a master at eating out, always knowing exactly how to please you. His tongue is possibly as well-trained a muscle as his musician fingers, he doesn't stick it out at all opportunities for nothing.

"Mmm, you taste so good, sweetheart." He says, quickly resuming his work on you. He licks you relentlessly, flicking his tongue against your clit and inserting himself into your soaked hole. You moan his name repeatedly, feeling your orgasm building like a knot in your belly. His fingers replace his tongue inside you, curling to hit your g-spot expertly. He pumps his digits in and out, sucking harshly on your clit. He wants to feel you cum around him, to scream his name as pleasure takes you over.

"Fuck, Eddie. Don't stop, right there! Just like that, make me cum." You cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold his face against your core. He hums against you when you tug on him, the vibrations sending you further toward the edge. He maintains his pace, wet noises harmonizing with your moans. Waves of pleasure roll over you, signaling your oncoming release. You gaze up at the ceiling, watching your reflection in the mirror. Your skin is glistening with sweat, your mouth agape as curses and cries of passion tumble from your lips. It's intoxicating to watch yourself lose control, seeing Eddie's mop of curls situated between your legs. You look at the flexing muscles in his back and shoulders, and admire his perfect ass.

Eddie hums against you again, pumping his fingers faster into your pussy. You scream his name as your orgasm rips through you, your thighs clamping around his head. Fireworks explode inside your stomach, showering sparks throughout your body. He drinks up your juices, extending your high. Stars blur your vision, and your hips buck against Eddie's face. He's struggling to breathe, but he lets you ride out your orgasm. The bliss dissipates, your body going limp and releasing your husband from your grasp. "Jesus, Y/N. That was so fuckin' hot. Almost suffocated me, but I'd happily die buried between your thighs." He pants, marveling at your fucked out expression.

"I'll make a note to sit on your face on your deathbed then." You joke, making the both of you laugh lightly. Eddie lays over you again, kissing your lips repeatedly. His cock slides against your slick folds, making the two of you moan into each other's mouths as your lips smack together. He continues to rub himself against you, teasing and riling you up again. Your blood is boiling inside you, you can't wait any longer for Eddie to fuck you. "Baby, please don't tease." You whine between kisses, urging him to give you what you want. He rolls you both over so you're on top, breaking his lips away from yours.

"Go ahead and ride me, darling." He grips your hips roughly, his rings digging into your flesh. You sit upright, taking Eddie's dick in your hand. You pump him a few times, lifting yourself on your knees. He moans at your touch, boring his eyes into yours. "Now who's being a tease?" He asks breathily, and you smirk before sinking onto his length. He fills you up perfectly, brushing against your g spot. The air is knocked out of your lungs, and you take a moment to adjust to his size.

Once you're ready, you slowly lift yourself up and fall back down onto Eddie's cock. "Fuck." You mutter, relishing the sensation. You repeat this action a few times, drawing lewd moans from the both of you. You place your hands on his chest, beginning to bounce up and down against him. His hands guide you to hit your sweet spot every single time, your head falling backwards in ecstasy.

"God, you're so beautiful like this, angel. And so fuckin' wet and tight for me." He meets your bounces with the occasional thrust upwards, making your breath catch in your throat. Your velvet walls hug his dick perfectly, it's like you're made just for him. He'll never get enough of you, he always wants to be balls deep inside you and making you scream.

You roll your hips, setting a new angle for yourself that manages to feel even better. A second orgasm is simmering inside you, building and building as you keep up your rhythm. You can't stop moaning, calling Eddie's name like he's a deity you're praying to. He's just as vocal as you, which you've always found extremely hot. He's not afraid to express himself with you, in bed or otherwise. This moment is so perfect, you never want it to end. "You feel so good inside me, Eds. Only you can make me feel this way." Your dirty confessions spur him on, he hammers up into you even more as you continue to ride him.

You're chasing each other's highs at this point, desperate to send yourselves over the edge. Your skin is slicked in sweat, making your bodies slippery. Your lustful noises blend together with the slapping of skin. When you least expect it, the plane hits some minor turbulence. Your stomachs drop as the jet dips in the sky, and you catch a bit of air before landing on Eddie's cock deeper and harder than you ever have before. You both shout obscenities at the sensation, half-wishing it would happen again. "You getting close, baby?" Eddie asks, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he lowers a hand between your legs to rub your clit with his thumb. You moan at the added stimulation, moving your hips even faster. You want to cum so badly, your bliss is threatening to boil over any second.

"Yes, love. So fucking close, make me cum." Your eyes meet his, burning with intense passion. The look on his face tells you he's just as close to the edge as you are, sweat drips down his cheek, and his eyebrows are knitted together. He rubs your clit harder, watching your eyes screw shut as you're overtaken by your orgasm. "Oh, Eddie!" You scream, legs shaking uncontrollably. Eddie moves his hand away, grabbing your hips again to pound upwards into you to reach his own finish line.

You keep moaning consistently as his thrusts prolong your pleasure, your mouth hangs slack to release the noises. You see stars once more, they swirl around in your vision as your arousal drips down Eddie's cock. You throw your head backwards again, tears streaming down your cheeks from overstimulation. He looks at the scene before him in the reflection of the mirror above you, watching himself fuck you relentlessly is what makes him lose control. "Fuck, Y/N." He chokes out, his warm load spilling into your spent cunt. His strokes slow down to a gradual halt, and you collapse onto his chest. You're almost gasping for air, your pussy clenching his length as your high subsides.

Eddie wraps his arms around you as you both try to steady your breaths. You lay on his chest, listening to his racing heart as his dick softens inside you. It's so comfortable and warm to lay with him like this, to be so close to another person is an amazing thing. You carefully lift yourself off of him, your mixed release dripping onto Eddie's stomach. You moan at the sight, quickly running to your bathroom to grab a damp washcloth to clean him off. Once he's no longer sticky, you put the cloth back in the bathroom and shut off the light before climbing back into bed. Eddie tugs the covers over the two of you, pulling you close to lay your head on his chest. "I love you so much, babe. You're the best husband a woman could ask for." You nuzzle his neck, playing with the small tuft of hair on his chest.

"And you're the world's greatest wife, angel. I love you to the ends of the universe and back." You lift your face up to give him a deep, warm kiss. He happily returns it, your hearts swelling with sheer love and adoration for one another. You pull away, failing to fight back a yawn. You lay back down, your eyes fluttering closed as you drift into a deep sleep.

To be continued…

#hippiegoth97 #fanfiction #smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #90s #rockstar eddie munson #corroded coffin #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut

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passionateseadruid · 4 months

Text

broken beyond repair?

Summary:

It had been 65 years since you died and six months earlier you'd killed your husband. About 67 years ago you'd married the man who'd come to be known as Vox.

Notes:

Okay a few things: It has a slow intro but I promise it get's good. Not historically accurate also it takes place 2022 (Hazbin Hotel I'll say takes place 2024)

Cw: Abusive relationships, older man/younger woman, misogyny (well, it is from the 50s), pre canon, Vox’s (theorized) human name, also Valentino is mentioned.

Your parents smile at you as you look over the ticket to the set of JacxBox News. JaxcBox has several different television/radio shows but your favorite by far was the news channel. Now, don't get it twisted, the news is boring as hell (even back then (Back now?)); But the host has a sexy voice and the pictures of him in the newspaper made him look like an Adonis.

"Thank you Mama! Thank you Daddy!" You hug you parents (specifically your father).

"Molly Mayberry's parents had the idea to send you two girls to the see the live show." Your mother explains to you. Molly Mayberry; heiress to the Mayberry country club. She's been your best friend since you were five.

Your parents both worked to be able to afford the private school you went to, raising scorn and mockery from the rest of the community. See, you weren't rich but you were determined to change that. Someday you were going to marry a banker or a stock broker and you'd be able to set your parents up in a nice home maybe somewhere on the coast, and when they'd grow old you'd get them the nicest nurse your future husband's money could pay for.

"You mind if I call Molls? She's gonna be so jazzed." They nod and you flop down into the couch. You dial her number on the rotary, and hear it ring. "Hey! My parents just told me! So what are we gonna wear? Are we gonna match?"

"Who cares about that! My daddy says we can use his new blue fliptop! Hummy and Angie are going to be so jealous when we see them at tennis." Angie "Hummy" Drew and Eliana Pheen make up the rest of your little clique. Hummy is a sweet girl but she isn't very bright (at least that's what everyone else says); she's often humming to herself as a way to calm herself or focus her mind on the task at hand. Her parents have tried everything they can to "fix" her, with no shortage of funds coming from her fathers jewelry company. Eliana on the other hand is the strongest and tallest girl in the graduating class of '53; her dad was a world-famous tennis player for the national Spain tennis team in his youth and won gold for them in the 1936 Olympics. Her dad had to take her mom’s last name when he came over to live here.

"Sounds like a jam."

"I know! I'm gonna meet Vincent Audire! Now don't be jealous when he absolutely falls for me." Molly giggles. She was the leader of your guys little clique and if she liked a boy the other girls weren't allowed to pursue him. Your pretty sure that every time you liked a guy she tried to snatch him away. Your not sure why you were friends.

"He'll just adore you." You say supportively, despite the fact that it breaks your heart.

"Duh! Who wouldn't."

////////////////////////////////////////

It was a few days later and You and Molly sit in the audience and watch as the news is being recorded both on film and over the radio.

Vincent was a handsome man with dark, almost jet black, hair. He had there piercing blue eyes and a stunningly white smile. Your heart skips a beat every time he looks over at you two. Before the show he even winked in your direction. Of course Molly's sure it's for her. Why wouldn't it be. She's the one dressed to the nines in jewelry and a nice cherry red wiggle dress. She lent you some accessories to go with the dress you'd converted from an old poodle skirt Molly gave you into a petticoat.

After the show was over Molly sent you away to "get her something from the snack table in the lounge" so she could go cozy up to Vincent.

It didn't work apparently because he shows up in the lounge 50 seconds after you finish scooping something up for Molly.

"Hello sir." You smile at him.

"Hey doll. You come with that lady in the slim red dress? You two are rather young aren't you?"

"I don't s'pose so sir. We graduated just last week. Neither of us really fancy College. Molly's father prolly' gonna make her go to Radcliffe to meet one of those Harvard men. She's far more interested in you though sir."

"Oh really? What about you doll?"

"Me?" You ask surprised. "Well I s'pose I won't gonna go to college. I'll just marry one of Molly's father's friend's sons. Be a cute lil housewife, for a handsome rich man." You bat your lashes at him.

"Well that's probable for the best. Being a trophy wife suits someone of your skillset better than a housewife."

"And what do you mean by that sir?" You hesitate to ask. Oh if Molly saw you now she'd rip your head off.

"No one's being fooled by the botch job done on your dress. An old poodle skirt to a petticoat? You'd be better off using that pretty face of yours to please your husband." He ran one of his warm pale hands against your cheek. His knuckle feels alien yet comforting against you. "Doll. You wouldn't happen to be free tomorrow night would you?"

"I am."

"Would you want to go to my favorite restaurant with me? We could meet earlier and go get you something presentable."

"I'd love that, sir."

"Please Doll. Call me Vincent." He kisses your knuckles and walks off. "I'll meet you on boardwalk by the pier at noon." he says looking back. You nod and rush back to Molly with her snack.

////////////////////////////////////////

The next day he brought you around to a few fancy shops and bought you a tiki dress for dinner. He brought you out to this cute little Hawaiian Restaurant.

Later that night as he was walking you back to your front door he leaned down and kissed you straight on the lips.

"How forward of you Vincent!" You blush. He chuckles and hands you the bags from the shopping trip.

"Here's my number. Call me tomorrow to set up our next date doll." He kisses your cheek and walks back to his car.

"Okay. Have a good night Vincent."

After your second date he asked you to go steady. He takes you out every weekend. This went on for a while and your friend noticed.

"Alright, what's going on?" Molly asks almost annoyed.

"I'm going steady with a boy." You smiled dreamily.

"Hm? What's he like?" Hummy bounces her leg as she asks interested.

"Get your head out of la la land and focus on the game!" Eliana shouts from across the court.

"Don't see why you're upset. You two are winning." Molly snarks. "She's right though. I wanna win this game."

"Molly, no one's ever won against Eliana." You point out.

"Papa has!" Eliana exclaims.

"Oh thank you Eliana, for correcting me that the only person who's ever beaten you is the world famous tennis champion who taught you." You roll your eyes.

////////////////////////////////////////

It had been about six months of going steady and no one has been aware of it. But one day he went on the news channel, his smile slightly forced as he announced that in about two months he'd be taking two weeks off to go on his honeymoon. He called you onto the set with him and introduced you to the world.

You don't fail to notice the tight grip he kept around your shoulder. You don't think that he's all to pleased about what you told him just the night before.

Neither was Molly when she saw you on the news channel that evening. She was screaming, throwing things around her room, and according to Hummy she even assaulted one of the help.

You haven't seen Molly since you went on TV, but that wouldn't last long. She found you when you were out one day with Vincent.

"HOW COULD YOU!!" She charges at you and your Fiancé's bodyguard, Parker, steps in to protect you.

"Go back to the car Vincent I'll be there in a moment." He rolls his eyes but does as you say.

"You tramp! You knew how much I loved him!" Molly cries as tears stream down her face.

"I'm sorry Molly, but Vincent wants me."

"You... you really are dense! He doesn't want you! He wants an easy girl. He'll have his fun with you but in the end rich men will marry the daughters of other rich men."

"That's where you're wrong. I'm having his baby, that's why he put this rock on my hand."

She screams. She goes to pull on your hair but Parker steps up and in between the two of you. He escorts you back to the unpleased man in the black car.

////////////////////////////////////////

A year later you were living with a baby boy who absolutely adores you; and a husband how tosses you around like a used sock.

So here you sit. In the kitchen of your husband's mansion, feeding your beautiful baby; seeing as the help having the day off.

Your husband Vincent isn't exactly the nicest man. You have no idea what happened to him. The day before you told him you were pregnant he was buying you flowers and dresses, taking you out for dinner and spoon feeding you 100 dollar parfaits. then the second you told him his mood shifted.

Molly was right, you know that now. Vincent wasn't the marrying type. However, if you'd gone public with the news of your pregnancy his carrier would be over. He had no choice but the marry you.

"Hello Junior, how's my big man today?" Vincent asks, ruffling the boys black locks. As much as he now hates you you're glad to see he holds no resentment towards his son. It almost made up for the times he'd get drunk and throw things, complaining how you'd ruined his life (though thankfully there were no mentions of his son in those arguments), or all the nights he'd leave you cold and alone in bed, coming home with tacky shades of lipstick all over him. Yes he loves his son, but his wife on the other hand...

"Doll. Where's my drink? I told you I wanted one an hour ago." His demanding voice cut you out of your thoughts.

"You're not getting a drink. I'm done being your servant." You mumble, gritting your teeth.

He rolls his eyes and snorts, "Okay. Doll get me my-" He cut himself off as he felt a searing blinding pain in his side. He looks back at you, the silver knife in your hands now stained with crimson. He pushed you to the floor and headed into the living room. He tripped as you locked the door to the patio and closed the blinds.

"Honey... let's..." he pants, "lets talk about this, okay? You don't have to do this. I'm... I'm so sorry. Look love, you don't have to worry... I won't tell anyone. We'll say a tripped and fell onto a blade in the garage. I still love you, doll."

You grab the whisky from the drink you were supposed to fix him and splash it all over him.

"For what it's worth, I'll always love you Vincent." You tip the TV over on him and watch as it shorted out and caught fire. You quickly grabbed your son and the two emergency bags you'd packed the night before for the two of you and snag the keys to the car. You'll get the hell out of dodge, wait for the fire to spread and come back to put on the helpless wife routine.

////////////////////////////////////////

You s'pose karma has a was of coming back to bite you in in the ass.

Only six month after you'd killed your husband your old friend Molly broke in and stabs you. Luckily Junior was away with your parents for the weekend.

////////////////////////////////////////

When you awoke in hell you woke up to simple jabbing pain in your arm. "Ow." You see a few kids poking at you with forks. they had gray skin and black eyes.

Instinctually you pulled a needle out of your hair and pointed it at them. You hit it straight into the ground which caught the attention of some adults.

Some of them came up to you and you grab one and held the needle to their neck. "Everyone stay back, or the creepo gets it!" About five minutes later of you holding this man hostage and demanding safe passage to a safe haven a tall woman popped through the small crowd that formed.

"What's going on here?" She asks clearly unpleased.

"Where am I? Who are you? What's going on?" You ask voice breaking as you speak, from fear or frustrated tears you're not sure.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking that? You come to my town and start making demands like this, threatening my people."

"I don't want to! Those kids were poking me with a fork! I just... fear and adrenaline overtook me and now we're here. I just want to go home! I just want to see my baby boy again." Tears flowed from your eyes.

"Tina, Tommy! We do not play with or pick at our food. And we also do not eat living people. 'Kay darlin', just let Frankie go and we can talk." You did as the taller woman asks.

You still held the needle out just in case. "Darlin' I'm an overlord. A measly needle won't do you much good. The names Rosie. From what my people told me you got fast reflexes, and an itchin' to stab. We could use someone like that here." She wraps her arm around you. "You poor, poor thing. It's gonna be okay. Let Aunty Rosie take care of this mess. I'll explain everything to you but you gotta come with me. There are eyes and ears everywhere."

"You can say that again." She giggles at your little comment.

"Alastor will just adored you."

////////////////////////////////////////

It had been 65 years since you died and you'd been working for Rosie every day. You'd met Alastor on a handful of occasions and only briefly had conversations with him when you saw him. He was a nice enough fellow, albeit a bit spooky. Anyway back to your job for Rosie. You'd get requests from the cannibals and you'd go out and get them the meats they requested. Your Demonic power allowed you enhanced battle reflexes and speed as well as seeing where to get tools for different modes of murder and the steps to kill in different ways. Yes it was morbid but it kept a roof over your head and the sinners always grew back so it's not like it was really hurting anyone. While you hadn't sold your soul to her she basically owned you and protected you. It was nice to have someone who actually cared for you.

But that all came to a stop when you saw an add one day while walking back with your freshest orders. VoxTek with their signature slogan "Trust us... with your safety." The man on the screen, the voice telling you to trust him...

"Oh Vincent, what happened to you?" You stood there almost entranced as a voice called out form behind you.

"You happened to me." He placed his hands on your shoulders and you spun around and elbowed him in the stomach. "Oof! Okay doll, I see you wanna play rough." He hoisted you over his shoulder and Teleported you both through a street camera to a nice looking building.

"Valentino and Velvette are gonna kill me. Val especially."

"Let go of me!" You squirm and tried to hit him with your needles in your hair but neither make a dent.

He threw you onto a bed and paced back and forth in the room. The bed itself was nice. Prussian blue silk sheets and rose red and royal blue comforters sat on top of the bed.

"This is bad." Vincent, no, Vox paces back and forth. "This is really bad."

'You can say that again.' You think as you look around the room to see if anything can help you escape. You could take the comforters and sheets and wrap them around his head or his neck. You could...

"This is all your fault!" He shouted at you.

"My fault?! How is this my fault?!"

"You just had to stab me and end up down here didn't you!"

"Are you seriously going to blame me? Firstly We got together when I was 18 and you were 33 the blame should not be on me in that situation, and secondly You were the one who plopped down and took me back here!"

"You could have refused!" He defended.

"I did! I said I didn’t want to go with you when you kidnapped me!" You retorted.

"I meant every time we had sex! Every time we kissed! You weren’t complaining when you got a nice dress out of it! What, you think I wanted you to stab me? I begged you not to, I said we could talk, I told you I still loved you and would forgive you!" He grabbed your arm.

"Oh you loved me? Did you love me when you hit me? Did you think of me when you were fucking those prostitutes with that tacky orange lipstick? Were you jumping for joy on the inside while scowling at me when I told you I was pregnant? Did you ever love me or did you just love my holes? Huh? Did you?" You push and hit his chest.

He grasps both of your hands. "Of course I did! But you just made it so hard!"

"Oh did I?" You asked sarcastically.

"Yes, you did! If you hated it so much why didn’t you leave?"

"It was the 50's Vox! If I asked you for a divorce I'd never be able to see my son again, I wasn't willing to lose him!" Tears form in your eyes.

"But you were willing to loose me?"

"I really don't believe you were ever mine." Tears fully streamed down your cheeks.

"Oh and you're such a saint? The woman who said she'd always love me turned her back on me and tried to flee to live with the best friend of my greatest enemy."

"I said that I'd always love Vincent, not Vox."

"Are you Fucking kidding me? We're literally the same person!"

"Oh really? Vincent wouldn't hurt others to get what he wants."

"It's Hell babe." He rolls his eyes.

"Vincent wouldn't have kidnapped me." You point out.

"Vincent also wouldn't want his ex-wife to be able to spread rumors about him and ruin his image. Neither does Vox."

"I had a good thing going "Vox"! I had a job and I haven't thought of you once!" You screamed at him.

"Yeah well I'm more well off than you could ever imagine. I have a wonderful Boyfriend and we have a wonderful platonic friend who lives with us!"

" Okay, we worked out our problems, I won't spread any rumors about you and your harem or whatever. Can you please let me go now? I really don't care who you're fucking. It was till death do us part remember?"

"I can't let you go. What if you tell someone. I'll need some insurance."

"What do you want then?"

"I want your soul." He grins sinisterly.

"What...?"

"Think about it. You could continue to hunt people. Do whatever you want. Go wherever you want. Fuck whoever you want. Of course you wouldn't be allowed to live with any other Overlord especially not one that's so close to Alastor, but I'd let you live as far away from me as possible (I'd probably prefer that in all honesty). You could even continue to work for your little girlfriend. I'll get you all set up on the other side of Pentagram City and protect you should anything bad happen. After all, I am far more powerful than your little girlfriend. All this and all you have to do is keep your mouth shut and give me your pretty little soul." He circles you like a shark looking to attack it's prey. "And should you refuse. I'll throw you from the balcony and have someone pick up your splattered remains off of the ground to do it over and over again."

"I can have freedom and ALL you ask is to have me soul in you possession and for me to never speak of you again?"

"Correct... Doll." He chuckles darkly, holding out his hand.

"Deal."

Notes:

I left it open ended in case I ever feel like making a part 2 I also am looking into getting a banner.

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azspot · 11 months

Quote

Leo began building a machine to do just that. He didn’t just cultivate friendships with conservative Supreme Court justices, arranging private jet trips, joining them on vacation, brokering speaking engagements. He also drew on his network of contacts to place Federalist Society protégés in clerkships, judgeships and jobs in the White House and across the federal government. He personally called state attorneys general to recommend hires for positions he presciently understood were key, like solicitors general, the unsung litigators who represent states before the U.S. Supreme Court. In states that elect jurists, groups close to him spent millions of dollars to place his allies on the bench. In states that appoint top judges, he maneuvered to play a role in their selection.

We Don’t Talk About Leonard: The Man Behind the Right’s Supreme Court Supermajority

#leonardleo #scotus

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sjsmith56 · 5 months

Text

Believe, Chapter 22 - Eyes of the Father

Summary: Lacey’s memories start returning. The Wakandans locate the jet she is in and plans are made to take her back.

Length: 4.6 K

Characters: Lacey, Bucky, Terry, Ross, Ayo, the Russians.

Warnings: Decision to eliminate Lacey, violence causing injury, Bucky still feeling guilty about leaving.

Author notes: More heroic Bucky!

<<Chapter 21

✈️ 💉

Over Europe

The memories were returning, wave after wave, like home movies of Lacey's life. They weren't in any particular order but as soon as they appeared she knew where they belonged. Some made her laugh and some cry but she accepted all of them, hungering for the information they gave her. She was Lacey Williams, mother of Tommy, in love with Bucky Barnes, sister of Terry, Tom, and Nancy Williams, daughter of Frank and Linda Williams. Even though she knew that all the memories of those people were incomplete she was still happy. The brunette woman and the man had tied her up and gagged her to keep her vocalizations down as more of her life flooded into her brain but that didn't bother Lacey. These were her memories, they belonged to her and the attempt to strip them from her had failed. No matter what happened, even if they killed her, she knew who she was.

"What do we do?" asked the brunette woman in Russian. "She was to be sold as a blank slate, able to be programmed or moulded to the client's specifications. Now that her memories are returning no one will buy a woman of her age, except as a domestic. That won't cover Dendrov's costs and he will take it out on us."

"We don't have to worry about that anymore," said the man. "I just checked my emails. Dendrov was arrested in New York. The Avengers raided the hotel, freed all the women there and those in the shipping container for the next shipment. Dendrov won't even get a trial. He's being put into the Raft as an enemy of humanity."

The woman thought for a moment. "We could let her go," she suggested. "Drop her off at a private airfield then take off back to Russia. She doesn't know our names."

"No, but she does know our faces," he answered. "I also found out who she is. Dendrov was a fool to buy her. She's an author, with an avid following. L.C. Chapman. There's talk of her last book being turned into a movie."

"So you want to kill her?" asked the woman. "What about Barnes? If it's true that they're lovers he won't let up until he finds us. Do you want the Winter Soldier searching for you?"

"He will whether we kill her or not," replied the man. "We're fucked either way. Not just from him either. The Pakhan knows about the raid. He's ordered everyone in New York to burn their bridges and get out of there. They're meeting at a rendezvous and determining their next move. He wants to know who we're carrying."

"Fuck," said the woman and they both turned to look at Lacey who watched them defiantly from where she was sitting.

If the Pakhan, the boss of their syndicate, was ordering their New York brotherhood to pack up shop then it meant everything was lost. He might be inclined to make an example of the blonde and it could end up being quite gruesome.

"Does he know of her connection to Barnes?" she asked.

"No, but I will tell him," said the man. "I'm not sure even he wants the Winter Soldier after him. Do you remember when he got to Samsonov? I do. He took out the man's full security detail within minutes. Killed that poor bastard by asphyxiation, probably with that prosthetic hand of his."

The man went back to his computer and messaged the Pakhan with what he knew of the blonde woman that Dendrov had bought from the Power Broker. He made sure that the connection with the former Winter Soldier was specified. As he sat waiting for instructions he checked the online catalogue for the next auction. Not only were there pretty young men and women for sale but there were also scientists, captured agents, and a former HYDRA scientist. Interest in him had been high. As he looked at the HYDRA scientist's profile he noticed a spelling error and logged in to correct it. Just after he went into edit mode his screen flickered and he tapped the side of the display. The flickering stopped and he made the correction, deciding to check the other profiles to make sure they were correct. After a few minutes he was satisfied and he logged out of the catalogue, glad he had caught the error. They were professionals, after all. He received a message from the Pakhan and let out a breath. Poor woman ... she never had a chance. Neither did the disposal detail if Barnes found them and killed them. He acknowledged his orders and turned to the brunette.

"We'll land at a private airfield in Germany," he announced in Russian. "There will be a detail that will take the woman and dispose of her. We are to continue on home. I'll go tell the pilot. But first I have to do something."

He opened a drawer in his desk console and took out a package with a specially made syringe in it. He strode to the front of the jet and stopped at Lacey. Grabbing her arm he injected something into it and went on into the cockpit to give instructions to the pilot. Lacey would have rubbed her arm which already felt swollen and sore from whatever he injected but with her hands bound she couldn't. The brunette came to Lacey and looked at her with some pity. She had done nothing, except been bought by an arrogant lieutenant who exposed their entire operation to scrutiny. She hoped the Pakhan had enough security for all of them to defend against Barnes. They had gone underground before and would have to do so again to elude him.

"We've been ordered to let you go," she said to Lacey, in English. "We'll land in an airfield in Germany where the local police will be directed to find you after we take off. I'm sorry you've been put through all this but it will soon be over."

Lacey nodded, not believing the woman at all. As the brunette walked away Lacey leaned out of her chair and watched the brunette walk to the back. Then she sat back and began to think of her options. When her chance came to escape she would take it.

Wakandan safe house, Germany

"How are you holding up?" Bucky asked Terry. "The waiting is usually the hard part. It's a slow process sometimes."

"I'm good," said Terry. "These people know what they're doing. What's the deal with that Ross guy?"

Bucky glanced at Everett Ross. "He took custody of me when I was captured in Romania," said Bucky. "They didn't exactly treat me humanely. He thought it was a big feather in his cap. Then I escaped when a man named Zemo impersonated the UN psychiatrist sent to assess my state of mind, and activated the Winter Soldier. I heard Ross got relieved after that, sent back to being a regular CIA agent."

"He seems to be important to the Wakandans," noted Terry. "I get the impression he's a changed man. Now, tell me about Tommy. He's okay?"

"They kept him sedated," said Bucky. "Once he came out of it he was okay although he'll likely have some PTSD to deal with. I can help him with that. He forgave me and we're good. He's staying with Clint while I'm here."

Terry leaned forward and touched Bucky's arm. "That's good news," he stated. "I'm happy for you both."

"I'm in," said Ayo, who had been in front of a computer terminal since Bucky arrived. "I got into the catalogue and someone just logged in to correct a spelling error I put into one of the profiles. All I need is a couple of minutes and I can hack into their computer."

Bucky and Terry joined the others who were gathered behind her. They watched as her fingers jumped over the keyboard, hacking into whoever was editing the catalogue. Ayo gave a small triumphant smile when the camera embedded in the computer monitor came on, showing a man at the terminal in what was obviously the interior of a private jet. She took a screen shot of his face and sent it to one of the other task force members to identify him. Then they heard his messaging software alert him to a message and Ayo brought that up on the screen. It was in Russian. Both she and Bucky read it.

"That airfield is nearby," she said. "They refer to the woman by Lacey's pen name. I would still like a visual to confirm it's her."

"Can you get a location of the aircraft through the laptop?" he asked.

Ayo did some more on the keyboard and it brought up GPS positioning. Checking the location of the airfield she looked up at him.

"They'll land in about 30 minutes," she said. "We can get there in ten."

They watched as the man got up and walked towards the cockpit. The interior of the aircraft was shown. The man stopped and they could see he grabbed an individual's arm, then his actions were obscured by his body. As he resumed walking to the cockpit a brunette woman sat in front of another woman whose back was turned to them. As the brunette stood up to return to the back of the aircraft the other woman turned her head and upper body to watch. It was Lacey. Bucky stood up.

"Text me the location of the airfield," he ordered.

"I'll go with you," said Ayo.

"No, you stay and find out where that auction is," said Bucky. "We need to get all of them. It's not just young women on that catalogue. You saw the guy going through the profiles. I read some of the descriptions. They have scientists, even one who was HYDRA, and some captured agents. We need that location. Ross, you come with me. I'll need someone to drive while I prepare my weapons. You still know how to shoot, right?"

"Yeah, I do," replied Ross. "We should take nano masks so we can impersonate the detail. I can speak a little Russian."

"Good idea," said Bucky. He noticed Terry putting his jacket on. "No, Terry, you stay here. This detail that they talk about ... they're there to kill Lacey. I can handle them but not if I'm worried about you being in the line of fire. Ross can deal with it. We'll bring her back here and you can watch her while we raid the auction site."

Bucky grabbed his weapons satchel while Ross took the car keys. Sitting in the back seat Bucky took out a double shoulder holster, took his jacket off and put the holster on, making sure it didn't bind anywhere. He also fastened a knife sheath on his ankle, slipping a knife into it. After he loaded his hand guns, he inserted them into the holsters and put extra magazines into his jeans pocket. Then he loaded another handgun and passed it to Ross, along with a couple of magazines.

"That's a lot of weaponry for two guys," noted Ross. "You sure you're not overdoing it?"

"I would rather have them and not use them than not bring them and need them," said Bucky, making eye contact through the rear view mirror. "Partly why I was so effective as the Winter Soldier. I was always over armed when I was on a mission."

"Okay, this is your party," replied Ross. "Are we shooting to kill?"

"I don't kill anymore," said Bucky. "Kneecaps, knock them out, tie them up, call the local authorities."

"I'm not sure I'm that good a marksman to go for kneecaps," replied Ross. "Head and chest are my usual targets."

"I can handle it," answered Bucky. "You can tie them up. You're a pilot right?"

"Yeah, I was," said Ross. "We don't let the jet leave; is that what you're saying? I'll take care of the pilot. Should probably put a bullet in one of the tires to keep it on the ground."

Bucky nodded then he directed Ross to park away from the airfield near some bushes. He handed some zip ties to Ross then they both got out of the car and stealthily went towards where an Audi was parked in the twilight. Two men were leaning against the hood, smoking cigarettes, talking in Russian. Both Bucky and Ross understood enough to confirm these were the men sent to kill Lacey. Bucky dug his prosthetic hand into the dirt coming up with a large clod. He threw it well to the front of the vehicle, causing both men to stand up.

"What the hell was that?" asked one of them in Russian. "It looked like something falling from the sky."

The one started walking towards it and motioned for the other to cover his back. Slowly they both walked out towards the ground before them. Bucky stepped out from where he hid and expertly shot both of them in the back of the knees. With a cry they both collapsed and he ran to them knocking them out as they lay on the ground. Holstering his guns he pulled both of them back towards the car and turned on the headlights so they could see their faces and set the nano masks to mimic them. Then Ross tied them up and Bucky put them into the back seat of the Audi. He opened the trunk of the vehicle and found duct tape, using that to cover up their mouths. Once he was satisfied they were secured he closed the trunk, and the doors, leaving the driver's side window open, then turned off the headlights. Minutes later they saw the aircraft lights approaching the airfield. Bucky reached inside and flashed the headlights twice, remembering that was standard procedure when he was the asset. The jet landed and taxied over to where they were. He received a text from Ayo with the names of the man and the woman on the jet and smiled. Just in time. The jet stopped and the door lowered, forming the steps. The man came out first, greeting them by name.

"Sasha, Misha," he said in Russian. "Long time, brothers."

"Yuri," greeted Bucky, then coughed. "Damned cold. It's lodged in my throat." He stepped forward to do the hug and kiss greeting then pulled his gun out and put it into Yuri's stomach. "Say nothing and you'll live. Take me into the jet."

"Sasha, what's going on?" asked Yuri. "The Pakhan said nothing about this."

Bucky didn't reply and forced Yuri back up the stairs with the gun pressed into his back. Ross followed, understanding that he would deal with the pilot. He turned left when he got inside and closed the cockpit door then pistol whipped the pilot, pulling him out of the seat and zip tying him. Bucky, who guided Yuri to the right pushed him in all the way.

"Irina." Bucky spoke to the brunette woman in Russian. "There's been a slight change of plans. The Pakhan is cleaning house. You won't be coming home but what you do now will determine if you get to live or die."

"What the hell is going on?" she asked. "We've done everything we were asked. It's not our fault Dendrov fucked up and bought a woman who was known."

"You're right," agreed Bucky who heard Ross come out of the cockpit. "Untie the woman and send her to me."

Irina looked at him angrily then went to Lacey and untied her. Lacey took her gag off. Irina roughly dragged Lacey up and pushed her towards Bucky. As she walked past Bucky he leaned towards her ear.

"Trust me and go with the other man," he whispered in English. "He'll take care of you."

She left with Ross while Bucky kept his gun in Yuri's back. Just as he was going to zip tie Yuri's wrists Ross came back into the jet out of breath.

"She hit me and took off," he gasped. "I couldn't catch her. She's fast."

Yuri tried to make a move and Bucky knocked him out by hitting him on the head with the gun. He looked at Ross.

"Keep her covered," he said then he ran out of the jet and scanned the area.

In the distance he could see someone running and he ran after her. "Lacey, stop!" he yelled as he ran. "It's me, Bucky!"

She didn't hear him, forcing him to turn on his speed to catch up to her within seconds. As he grabbed her arms she whirled around, fighting and screaming at him.

"Lacey!" he yelled again. "Stop, please! It's me, Bucky."

She stopped struggling and looked at him with fear. "No, your face is different than I remember," she said terrified. "You're not him."

He realized he still had the nano mask on and pulled it off, looking at her desperately. "I cut my hair and took off my beard," he cried. "We have a son, Tommy and he's safe at Clint's farm. I gave you an origami heart that said I will always remember you. Sharon Carter took you and Tommy, then she wiped your memory and sold you to a Russian trafficker. I've been trying to find you ever since. Please, you have to believe me. It's me, it's really me."

He pulled out his cell phone and turned on the flashlight so that it lit up his face. She stepped closer then tentatively put her hand on his face.

"Bucky?" she said. "It really is you. You and Tommy have the same eyes."

He nodded and smiled gently at her. She fell into his arms crying and he enclosed her close to his body, kissing the top of her head and whispering to her that it would be okay.

"Come on," he said, guiding her back towards the jet. "We have to secure those two, call the authorities and get you back to the safe house."

She sniffed and nodded her head, grasping his arm as they walked back. He stepped up the stairs and found Ross still holding a gun on Irina. Her eyes grew wide when she saw Bucky's real face.

"We didn't hurt your woman," she claimed. "Ask her. I was kind to her."

Bucky looked at Irina. "It doesn't matter," he said. "You were taking her to the auction then you got the order to land here and turn her over for disposal. You're still going down for human trafficking."

Irina swore in Russian as Ross made her lie face down on the floor then zip tied her hands and feet. Bucky phoned the local police detachment, speaking to them in German and telling them a jet with human traffickers had been stopped at the airfield along with two Russian hit men in a car beside the jet. Once he hung up the three of them went back outside. Ross fired his gun into one of the jet's tires while Bucky did the same with the Audi. They got back in their car, with Bucky in the back seat while Lacey still held on to him and Ross drove. Bucky phoned the safe house to send the information on the traffickers to the local police. When they got there Terry came down the steps and opened the car door looking at Lacey with concern. She looked at Bucky for confirmation of his identity.

"He's your brother, Terry," said Bucky. "You remember him, right?"

"Not how he is now," she said, "but when he was younger."

When she stepped out Terry couldn't help himself and gave her a heartfelt hug. She accepted it gracefully then stepped back and looked at him almost as if he were a stranger.

"You don't remember me?" he asked. "We've been living in the same house for almost six years, first on a farm then in a condo in Philadelphia. I was at work when you were taken. The FBI came to tell me. Agent Jones got shot trying to keep them from taking you."

She swallowed. "I remember you as a teenager," she said. "I don't remember you as an adult. I'm sorry but once my memories return it will be better." She stopped for a moment then looked at him again. "You were a football player."

"Yeah, I was," he said. "In New York. I retired six years ago and have been with you and Tommy since then. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you."

He began to cry and Lacey put her hand on his arm. "It's alright," she said, looking beyond him. "Where's Tom? Is he here?"

Terry looked at Bucky in alarm. "Her memories are incomplete," Bucky explained. "Even though she remembers some things there are gaps. I'm guessing what happened to him isn't there yet."

"Sweetheart, Tom has been dead for ten years," said Terry gently. "He was murdered."

Lacey began to cry and this time Terry comforted her, helping her up the steps into the safe house. Bucky and Ross followed. She was introduced to the Dora Milaje team and Bucky explained her memories were coming back but not evenly or in chronological order. Ayo regarded him with empathy.

"You can help her through this better than anyone, White Wolf," she said. "I am sure of it."

He smiled grimly. "Any updates on the location of the auction?" he asked.

"Yes, we have determined it will take place in a private chateau in France in two days." She gestured to the information on the computer. "We are in contact with the Pakhan, masquerading as Yuri so that he doesn't suspect the jet has been intercepted. We told him there was engine trouble. I assume you want to be in on this. How is your French?"

"I need some practice," he replied in French. "Yours?"

"The same," she said. "I was able to register several of us as buyers. Our team is working on our bona fides right now. You will have to leave Miss Williams here with her brother. We recommend they move on to another location while we are at the auction."

"When do we leave?" asked Bucky, looking back at Terry and Lacey talking.

Ayo noticed the look and realized he likely wanted time with Lacey. "The day after tomorrow," she said. "Spend time with her. When our team leaves we can request a portal for her and her brother. She should be with her son at Barton's farm. It will help with her memories."

He nodded and went to Lacey, kneeling down so he was level with her as she sat on the couch. "We still have a mission to infiltrate the auction and rescue those who are being sold off," he said as he gazed at her. "I would like you and Terry to go back to the U.S. and stay with Clint on his farm. Tommy is already there and he needs you."

"What about you?" she asked. "You're not coming?"

"No, they need me for the mission," he replied. "As soon as we're done I'll come to the farm. They have a room here for you to stay tonight and tomorrow night. We'll have tomorrow together and then I have to leave the following day to go undercover."

"But I just got you back," she said, becoming a little emotional. "You'll stay with me tonight and tomorrow night?"

He glanced at Terry and took a breath. "I'm not sure that's a good idea," he replied. "Lacey, I abandoned you several months ago when I had a PTSD flashback. I was afraid of hurting you so I ran. You obviously don't remember it. If you did, you wouldn't be asking me to stay."

She smiled. "I do remember it," she said calmly. "You left me at the farm while we were in bed. It did hurt me but having my memories ripped away from me has given me some perspective on your actions. You panicked but everything you did was to protect me and Tommy. That proves you love us enough to make yourself look bad so that we can be safe." She touched his cheek gently and ran her fingertips over the dark stubble of his unshaven face. "You've joined the Avengers, haven't you? Terry told me."

He nodded. "I learned while I was working with Sam on the Flag Smashers that everything I know is suited to being an Avenger," he said. "It means I have to go where the fight is when I'm called. Unfortunately, it doesn't lend itself to having a normal relationship."

"I have a memory of you in my Grandpa's house telling me that the prospect of a normal life wasn't good," she said, gazing into his eyes. "When I went to live at Stark Tower and was talking to Bruce Banner I mentioned it. He said then you could be an Avenger as none of them have normal lives."

"What's your point?" he asked with a slight smile.

"You're not normal," she declared. "You're a unique man and you've been run through a gauntlet that would have destroyed an ordinary man. Why would I want an ordinary man when I can have you? Because I do want you, Bucky. Believe that. I love that you'll put your life on the line, not just for me but for people in jeopardy. I love that you have an intellect that appeals to me. I love that from the moment we met you made me feel like no other man ever made me feel, and you still do. I don't need all of my memories to know that I love you. You are what I want and I'll share you with the Avengers so that you can do what you must with them. When you're with me and Tommy, we'll have as normal a life as we can make it. So, once more, will you stay with me tonight and tomorrow night before you go on to your next mission?"

He smirked then planted a big kiss on her, which she returned enthusiastically. It was enough to bring smiles to the Wakandans and to Terry. That evening when everyone retired Bucky and Lacey shared a room, picking up where they left off on the farm. This time there were no flashbacks prior to or during their love making. As soon as they closed the door they clasped together, kissing passionately and removing their clothing as they moved towards the bed. They didn't have a condom with them and for a brief moment they looked at each other in a panic. Then Bucky caressed her face.

"I'm making it right no matter what," said Bucky firmly.

"Alright," Lacey replied in agreement. "No matter what."

As they began making love they both slowed down and became more sensuous in their passion. With deep kisses and loving caresses between them they found the bliss they had both been waiting so long to experience. For some time after they shared soft kisses and whispered words of love then fell asleep holding each other. When Bucky and the others left two mornings later she kissed him tenderly as he promised to come back to her and Tommy. She and Terry took a portal several hours later, arriving in Iowa in time for breakfast.

Chapter 23>>

Series Masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #sam wilson #human trafficking #reunion

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cfsjetsnc · 9 months

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Role of a Private Jet Broker

Investing in an airplane of one’s own serves many purposes. The long wait in airport queues is made redundant for starters. Moreover, the user can also land in small airports off the beaten track. All of these benefits and more make the idea of owning a private airplane exciting. A layperson is not equipped with the correct information, nor does the individual have the skills to inspect an aircraft that has been put up for sale. It is important to connect with a certified private jet broker to ensure the proper purchase of a jet, either in the new or used condition.

It is necessary to know what such a broker brings to the table, though. It suffices to learn that a jet broker will provide the right information about an aircraft that needs to be chartered or purchased. Hiring a broker is the best way forward to tap into their expertise and acumen. They know the latest news in the related industry and can help the prospective buyer make an informed decision.

Some of the other gains that convince the intended purchaser to be desirous of chartering a private jet to hire a competent and qualified broker include the following:-

· Research- The sky is the limit for the buyer when it comes to finding a private jet for sale. Sadly, not all of them will be suitable for the buyer. The jet broker is sure to step in here and check the market for the available models. Matching the buyer's needs to the available models is a cakewalk for individuals with the right expertise and experience. They will thoroughly research the present market condition, latest trends, availability, and pricing. Analyzing the results will enable the purchaser to go ahead and make a good buy.

· Sourcing- Many aviation companies provide private jets for sale and/or on charter. Not all of them are fit for the skies, however. It is the onus of the broker to connect with the networks, individual aircraft owners, manufacturers, and operators to find a jet that meets 100% of the requirements. The broker will also arrange an inspection and recommend the best jets based on factors such as range, speed, avionics, and cabin layout.

· Due Diligence- The process of due diligence is imperative when one spends a good amount for transactions and transfer of name. The facts are confirmed by double-checking the details provided by a professional. Investing in a private jet is no exception either. The concerned broker will go through the documentation, maintenance records, and ownership status. The procedure will be completed by roping in technical and legal experts. The broker will handle this process competently without involving the buyer frequently.

A business owner who needs to fly to far-off locations regularly finds the Citation Mustang for sale perfect. This Cessna Aircraft is compact and speedy, with cost-efficiency being its USP.

#private jet broker #citation mustang for sale

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planetadaa · 5 months

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Private jet consultant

Ensure the engine(s) hours and vantage are within the acceptable range for the ownership period. Know the optimal hours on a model before committing.

https://planetadaa.com/blog/engine-programs

#private jet consultants #aviation consultant #aircraft brokers #business jet consultants #Aircraft Consultant

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aelloposchrysopterus · 1 year

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From Albia with "Love"

It is an undeniable truth that Albia has a sense of humor. It is also undeniable that Albia acts with a sense of impunity because, as far as anyone knows, she is the only God-Queen left, and mere mortals have a difficult time getting her to play by their rules, let alone attempt to have any accountability.

Trelawney Thorpe likes to open her mail carefully in the event of any surprises, especially when anything is postmarked as being from Albia. It was a lesson learned the hard way. When your employer’s a millennia-old God-Queen, you have to get use to dangerous things (like, say, a cursed amulet) getting sent to your door, because of course you’ll be able to deal with it before your morning cuppa, right? Spark of the Realm and all that?

Trelawney sometimes wishes she could quit her job. She was getting jealous of the celebrity Tarvek Sturmvoraus, who just gadded about as he pleased, being a spark and saving the day and, yes, occasionally getting into trouble. For the head fashion designer of the Storm King brand, he was quite roguish — and she likes that about him.

She likes that about all of his jet-setting crowd, she can’t deny that. She likes the Gilgamesh Wulfenbach candid photos where he’s caught in dubious situations and he can’t worm his way out of it, so he just gives the camera that deadpan libertine stare of his, suit jacket hung over one shoulder only. She likes reading the Agatha Heterodyne arrest reports from each time she goes full madgirl. Agatha, Gil, and Tarvek, toasting on the runway and on the runway. She likes — and hates that she likes — that they’re all power brokers, each in their own way.

Albia knows about the folder on Trelawney’s phone labelled “Gil” that’s mostly a collection of the most roguish photos of Gil, outside the notorious nightclubs of Paris and the shadiest bars in New York, the sleaziest pubs in London and the most dubious casino backrooms of Monaco. Albia also knows that Gil is wanted by the police for questioning in an investigation into the murder of Omar von Zinzer. Albia, eternally wise, knows that Trelawney capturing Gil would greatly bolster Trelawney’s career, which is slightly stagnating after the Budapest debacle.

(What Albia doesn’t know is that Trelawney has matching folders for Agatha and Tarvek, that technically Agatha is more responsible for von Zinzer’s death than anyone else still alive, and that Trelawney really, really, really wants to quit.)

At 09:00 GMT on 20 May, Gilgamesh “Gil” Wulfenbach is spotted leaving a party in the Beverly Hills area of Los Angeles, looking severely and abnormally intoxicated.

At 20:00 GMT on 20 May, a British military flight from Los Angeles lands at Chequers.

At 01:24 GMT on 21 May, Bangladesh “Bang” DuPree, a Silicon Valley exec, reports Gil Wulfenbach missing after he failed to show up to a lunch meeting and she was unable to contact him. She is told to call again when he’s been gone for 48 hours.

At 01:47 GMT on 21 May, Agatha Heterodyne reports Gil Wulfenbach missing after he failed to return to their luxury estate in Montecito after the party. She is told to call again when he’s been gone for 48 hours and a partial transcript of her call is leaked, turning her into the front page of the next day’s tabloids.

At 06:28 GMT on 21 May, a package is dropped off at Trelawney Thorpe’s Ealing apartment, postmarked from Chequers. She moves it inside but does not open it, instead choosing to leave for her job as an MI5 analyst.

At 07:13 GMT on 21 May, the business magnate Klaus Wulfenbach is interrupted during a late-afternoon meeting in Hong Kong by a call from Bang DuPree that notifies him of his son’s disappearance.

At 07:19 GMT on 21 May, Tarvek Sturmvoraus listens to a voicemail left by Agatha Heterodyne while in Lagos, preparing for a semi-major fashion show.

At 07:25 GMT on 21 May, Violetta Mondarev, an angel investor, receives a text from Tarvek Sturmvoraus and immediately books a private jet from Sofia to Paris.

At 07:33 GMT on 21 May, Xerxesphina “Seffie” von Blitzengaard, an influencer currently based in Milan, reads a screenshot of Tarvek Sturmvoraus’s text to Violetta Mondarev, sent to her by her close friend and personal self-help guru Sparafucile.

At 07:46 GMT on 21 May, Colette Voltaire, president of France, is called by Seffie von Blitzengaard during a national security meeting. She hangs up but promises to call back.

At 08:00 GMT on 21 May, Colette Voltaire calls Seffie von Blitzengaard back.

At 08:27 GMT on 21 May, Sparafucile takes a flight from Milan to Los Angeles.

At 09:01 GMT on 21 May, a very stressed Tarvek Sturmvoraus gets off the phone with Agatha Heterodyne and creates a WhatsApp group composed of himself, Agatha Heterodyne, Bang DuPree, Klaus Wulfenbach, Violetta Mondarev, Seffie von Blitzengaard, Sparafucile, Colette Voltaire, and Gil Wulfenbach’s right hand man, Ardsley Wooster.

At 09:06 GMT on 21 May, the WhatsApp group reaches the consensus that they will not find Gil Wulfenbach anytime in the next few hours. They collectively agree to take the search down a notch and amp it up once Bang DuPree and Agatha Heterodyne are able to report Gil Wulfenbach missing.

At 09:07 GMT on 21 May, Ardsley Wooster, an MI6 agent, texts his handler to make them aware of the current status of the Gil Wulfenbach situation and make sure that Queen Albia didn’t have anything to do with it.

At 09:09 GMT on 21 May, Ardsley Wooster texts his friend Trelawney Thorpe.

At 11:02 GMT on 21 May, Violetta Mondarev lands in Paris.

At 11:15 GMT on 21 May, Klaus Wulfenbach hosts a press conference in Hong Kong about his missing son, calling for his safe return.

At 11:17 GMT on 21 May, screenshots of text messages between Tarvek Sturmvoraus and Gil Wulfenbach are leaked to the tabloids.

At 11:23 GMT on 21 May, the article “Gilvek: Fact of Fiction?” is posted online, along with an accompanying quiz called “Who Said It?: Twilight, the Bard, or Gilvek?” that gives readers quotes from the leaked Tarvek Sturmvoraus-Gil Wulfenbach texts, the Twilight series, and Shakespeare plays.

At 11:36 GMT on 21 May, Tarvek Sturmvoraus takes advantage of the media storm around the leaked text messages to release an appeal he calls “Help Me Find My (and Agatha’s) Boyfriend”. The original video is viewed over 2000 times within fifteen minutes.

At 12:02 GMT on 21 May, Agatha Heterodyne releases her video, “Help Me Find My (and Tarvek’s) Boyfriend”. Her video is viewed over 2500 times withing fifteen minutes.

At 12:14 GMT on 21 May, Klaus Wulfenbach is ambushed by a reporter and admits he did not know that his son was in a polycule with Agatha Heterodyne and Tarvek Sturmvoraus.

At 12:18 GMT on 21 May, the WhatsApp group agrees to a policy of total silence following the debacle that is the tabloids trying to get in on the “Agagilvek” story.

At 12:19 GMT on 21 May, Ardsley Wooster texts Trelawney Thorpe, begging her to check her phone.

At 16:25 GMT on 21 May, Trelawney Thorpe checks her phone and leaves work early.

At 16:45 GMT on 21 May, Trelawney Thorpe arrives at her Ealing apartment.

She enters the flat carefully and gently kicks the box that arrived that morning.

It springs back.

“Bloody hell,” she mutters. She finds the nearest packing knife she has and gently cuts away the tape, taking photos as she goes. If Albia did this… Once she’s cut all the tape away, she opens the lid tenderly, hoping to not be surprised by what’s inside.

She is, of course, surprised, because who else but Albia would send a murder suspect kidnapped in a different country through the Royal Mail to the Spark of the Realm. She regains her composure rather quickly. She can’t do anything while Gil Wulfenbach is still unconscious, so she won’t do anything. She’ll just text Ardsley and hope like crazy that he’ll get here before Gil wakes up, but she knows he’s in New York right now because of course he is, so he probably won’t.

Violetta Mondarev, her one-time-flame, is, however, in Paris (they still share their locations with each other), which is close enough. While Trelawney knows that Letta would still come running if she called, she feels guilty about it. The breakup was… fine, it was just because Trelawney didn’t think she would be able to do long-distance when Letta decided she needed to be based in New York, and since the breakup was on her… Trelawney always hesitates before asking Letta for anything.

Ardsley first. Trelawney texts Ardsley Wooster the photo of Gil in the box with the caption “send help albia’s really done it this time”.

She then overcomes the fear of bothering Letta and calls Violetta Mondarev. Her contact still has a heart in it; Trelawney could never bring herself to get rid of it.

“Letta,” she says when Violetta picks up.

“Hey, Tawny!” Violetta replies, cheerful as ever. It was through Letta that Trelawney had met Tarvek and his group of friends, but Trelawney had never heard Letta as happy around all her friends as she sounded right them. “You need something?”

Trelawney swallowed her pride. “Yes. I… I… I need you to come to my flat as soon as you can. I can’t talk about it on the phone, but Letta, I need you.” Well, that was desperate.

“Okay, Tawny, I’ll be right there. I’m chartering a plane and I’ll get there in two-ish hours, okay? Everything’s going to be fine.” She could hear Letta starting to type on a computer, presumably chartering a jet.

“Thanks, Letta,” she says.

Letta laughs on the other end of the line. “Oh, it’s my pleasure. Look, see you soon, okay? I’ll be there in two hours.”

Trelawney is deprived of the ability to respond by Violetta hanging up the phone.

She paces her flat for two hours, waiting for Gil to wake up (he doesn’t) or Ardsley to respond (he doesn’t, either, because he doesn’t know what to say or who to say it to, and he can’t get over to London fast enough) or just anything at all to happen. She’s fought monsters before, she engineers fantastic contraptions to save the day on a regular basis, she’s the Spark of the Realm, she should be able to deal with anything. It’s just that, well, unconscious Gil Wulfenbach on her living room floor is a little bit outside of her comfort zone.

Violetta Mondarev, true to her word, arrives in two hours. She sees Gil lying on the floor as soon as Trelawney lets her in.

“Tawny… this is an Albia thing again, isn’t it?” She points at Gil, who’s beginning to stir a tiny bit.

Trelawney nods.

“And you called me because I’m adjacent to the Agagilvek jet-setting crew, so I’d be more able to deal with this than you?”

“Letta, I’m translucent when it comes to you,” Trelawney tries to laugh.

Violetta grins. “Oh, Tawny…” They both get lost in each other’s eyes for a few minutes.

“Ladies. What.” Gil’s voice comes up from the floor.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Trelawney says.

“Where am I?” Gil asks.

Violetta smirks. “The floor of Trelawney Thorpe’s Ealing flat, exactly where Albia sent you.”

“Uh, I’m wanted for murder here, aren’t I?” His face is a perfect specimen of horror.

“Technically, just for questioning,” Trelawney rolls her eyes.

“And so what are we going to do?” He asks. “I don’t know about you, but I’m personally not a fan of being questioned by British police.”

“That’s unavoidable,” Violetta says. “Look, I’m going to call Agatha and Tarvek and tell them to get their butts over here, since you three were involved in that whole von Zinzer disaster. Once they’re here, Trelawney will turn you over. Klaus’ll have a panic attack and Trelawney will come clean about Albia ordering your kidnapping, okay?”

“That’s… surprisingly amenable for one of Tarvek’s Smoke Knights,” Gil says.

Violetta grins. “Tawny, you on board?”

“Yep,” Trelawney says.

Six months later, Agatha Heterodyne is throwing the party of the century in an Irish castle she somehow owns, celebrating the conclusion of the von Zinzer murder trial and the acquittal of Gil Wulfenbach. Trelawney Thorpe is there, a minor celebrity in her own right after her fiery resignation letter from her position as Spark of the Realm that had implicated Albia in various illegal acts beyond just kidnapping Gil (Interpol had given her a job offer right after that, but she’d rejected it to take time to decide what she wants to do). She stands off to the side, watching Agatha, Gil, and Tarvek Sturmvoraus lovingly and tenderly interact with each other. Some emotion deep within her is activated.

Letta’s got to be around here somewhere. She passes the buffet table, where Ardsley Wooster has gotten himself into a heated discussion with Sparafucile about where six slices of American bacon and two fried eggs is a good breakfast. Bang DuPree is over by the fountain, fighting with Zeetha Wulfenbach, Gil’s sister and Agatha’s best friend who had just returned from a twelve-month off-the-grid survival adventure with her boyfriend Axel Higgs. Over at the tennis courts, Seffie von Blitzengaard is flirting with Colette Voltaire, who is trying to not get caught in a romantic entanglement with a foreign national by the French media. Klaus Wulfenbach stares pensively into a pond, wondering where exactly everything went so wrong. She walks by Van von Mekkhan, the property manager for much of the Agagilvek set, and Moloch von Zinzer (who, despite Agatha’s involvement in his brother’s death, remains her right-hand man) trying to fix a broken window that had happened when Gil’s latest drone adventure had deviated from the flight plan. Violetta Mondarev is nowhere to be seen.

Trelawney Thorpe turns a corner of a hallway a bit too fast and collides with someone; they both skid on the stone floor, spinning slightly.

Trelawney stands up as soon as she can. “I’m so sorry —”

“Don’t be,” Violetta Mondarev says. “Tawny, I ran into you.”

“Oh, Letta, but I hit you.”

“We both hit each other, and we’ll be here all day if we want to determine whose fault that is.”

“I’d spend all day with you, Letta.”

“If this is your way of hinting to me you want to get back together, yes, Tawny.”

“I don’t care that we’d be long-distance —”

“I’m moving to London.” Violetta smiles. “I’ve been planning it for a while. We won’t be long-distance starting, oh, early next month.”

Trelawney jumps up and hugs Violetta.

“Uh, can I have a little bit less of the suffocation?” Violetta asks, gently prying Trelawny’s arms off her.

“Right, sorry, I forgot,” Trelawney says.

Two years after that, the angel investor marries the MI5 analyst-turned-spy novelist. After they return from their honeymoon, they start opening their wedding presents.

From Agatha Heterodyne, a miniature Fun Sized Mobile Agony and Death Dispenser, with the attached note of “Remember Budapest, when great times were had by all”.

From Tarvek Sturmvoraus, a set of fine linen, embroidered with maps of places that he thought were significant to them.

From Gil Wulfenbach, a cardboard box with the tag “From Albia with ‘Love’” that contained the wedding cake toppers that had mysteriously disappeared after the reception, along with a letter.

Trelawney and Violetta —

Congratulations on the marriage! We’re so happy for you.

Agatha thought you’d like a memento of Budapest, which Tarvek thought was a bit tactless, but in the end, we agreed that it was certainly a memorable time for all. Tarvek went with the linen because — sorry, Trelawney — he didn’t think that the current set you have was very pretty (Gil disagreed, but we’ve all seen that coat of his, so his color sense is automatically disqualified). Gil insisted on stealing the cake toppers and doing this whole thingamajig with the box as his way of (finally) thanking you for dealing with the time Albia kidnapped him. We were all worried sick.

We hope you’ve had a wonderful honeymoon! If you’re not deathly sick of travelling by now, we’d like to invite you to join us in Geneva for the holidays this year.

Your friends,

Agatha & Gil & Tarvek

Read on AO3.

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