#mostly marvel musings
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So Inappropriate
A/N: Alright, you guys wanted it, here it is. This little ficlet based off of the video that’s got our Stark Squad all riled up. Leave a comment, heart or reblog if you enjoyed it.
Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader
Warnings: 18+ smut-ish fluff. There is a significant age gap between the reader and Tony (say 20 years?) Also the reader is Bruce Banner’s assistant.
Word count: 1896
Tony Stark Masterlist
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You were just about done arranging the equipment in the lab when you heard the door slide open.
“Dr. Banner, I’m done for the day unless you need me for anything else!” you called out without glancing up, not realizing the person who had walked in certainly wasn’t your boss.
“Dr. Banner has left the premises for the day, Miss Y/L/N. But I might need you for something.”
Tony Stark made an appearance, his signature smirk adorning his face as he traipsed in closer, his walk oozing all sorts of confidence and authority. Of course, your face did very little to hide the blush that creeped up, heating your cheeks in an instant.
Why did this man have such an influence on you? You’d never know.
Well, not exactly. It was pretty obvious. The genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist had this effect on most individuals. His natural charisma and intimidating presence was all wrapped in an impeccably trimmed-goatee-bearing handsome package. The guy was senior to you. Much senior. But there was something about him that always drew you in, an impish charm that was all too endearing, his commanding aura that compelled you to behave. Almost challenged you to confront your deepest, darkest desires.
“Earth to Y/N?” he snapped you out of your reverie, making you accidentally knock over a set of beakers kept on the platform.
Cursing under your breath, you bent to pick up the shattered glass as did Tony, resulting in your head banging against his, further adding to your embarrassment.
Just great!
“Careful, you’re gonna hurt yourself.” Tony murmured, taking the shards of glass from your hand as Dum-E, one of his bots zoomed in to sweep it all away.
“Thank you, Mr. Stark. I–I’m sorry.” you fumbled, wincing as you saw you an angry drop of red ooze out of your finger from where you had evidently cut yourself.
“Ah, you poor thing. C’mere.” not awaiting a response, Tony clutched your hand and brought it to his lips, gently sucking on your index finger all while his eyes bore into yours.
A part of you wanted to run away from the scene like a scaredy cat but, the other part was completely rooted to the spot. Not daring to move an inch, as if if you did, your little daydream would break. Your cheeks probably burnt with the heat, and you could feel your pulse rush to the part of your finger that was currently in his mouth, smarting. His tongue soothed over the cut softly, sending tingles of desire down your back, the moistness between your legs increasing with his little action.
He is your boss. Not exactly but he built this place. He was your boss’s best friend. These thoughts were quite inappropriate.
Almost as quickly as it began, he let go of your hand, his touch still lingering strong as you cleared your throat, watching his bot whir away from the scene.
“Thank you, I think. Um. For your help.” you stared at your feet, unsure what to do next.
You grabbed your things and stuffed them in your bag, very aware of the fact that Tony and signature smirk were following your every move.
Why was this man allowed to have this effect on you?
You stopped right by the door, turning back to face the man who hadn’t moved from his spot.
“Uh, Mr. Stark? You said you wanted me for something?”
“Right! Well, we have a charity, inauguration, felicitation, something here at the Tower in two days. I wanted you to come.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking at you intently as he waited for an answer.
“Oh! Are–are you sure?”
That was a surprise. You had been working with Dr. Banner for a better part of a year now however it had always been strictly professional. You were aware of the many, many galas and events that took place, you were just never a part of them. Until now.
“Yeah. I’ll have Big Green send you the details. You can bring a date. Or not.”
He winked cheekily, walking up the stairs right next to you before the doors slid open once again, gesturing you to go first.
Needless to say you were flabbergasted. A rush of excitement brought a pep in your step as you headed home, going through your wardrobe in detail and what could be a Stark-party-worthy outfit.
.
Tony’s eyes scanned the room, eager to find you in a sea of impeccably dressed people. He couldn’t shake you off from his thoughts. Not for a while now, if he would admit to himself.
His curiosity grew ever since he saw you for the first time, entering the lab and giving Bruce Banner a shy smile, eyes locking with him and holding his gaze, almost unable to look away. He sensed you were nervous, it was cute. It made his cock stir. He could not remember the last time he felt this way. You were a young, smart, vivacious thing that was too young for him, and yet he couldn’t resist you.
Not that he tried. You drew him in right from the start.
Tony had found you chatting animatedly to your boss some time later. You looked stunning in the floor-length number you had decided on. Your features were beautifully highlighted with the hair and make-up you’d chosen.
His wish to have you closer had been fulfilled as the party warmed up, people sat around in groups, drinks in their hands while conversation flowed. Of course, the Avengers had a favorite corner they had gathered at, the center of attention being the one and only, Iron Man. He was awarded a trophy for his philanthropic work earlier which now sat in his lap proudly, an almost phallic-shaped glass that had his name etched.
“I can’t be the only one thinking this.” Tony smirked, holding the award against his crotch and earning collective groans from the crowd around. The action brought warmth rushing to your cheeks, your wildly imaginative mind pictured him doing that to his member, letting out soft grunts.
“You alright, Miss Y/L/N?” Your attention was captured by someone standing next to you, pointing to your dress.
Unknown to your preoccupied self, the filled glass of wine you held had tilted enough to spill on your dress.
“Oh God! Shit!” you exclaimed, turning a few heads your way as you grabbed a few tissues to blot the spilled liquid as much as you could. The darker color of your dress masked the big stain that had probably formed.
It was hard to miss Tony’s piercing gaze as he gave you one of his lopsided grins, clearly giddy with the reaction he had hoped his stunt would achieve. If anything, one fact was becoming clearer by the day.
Your attraction towards this man was increasing and it seemed he was equally interested in you too.
.
It had been a hectic week, you sighed and leaned back against your chair, closing your eyes for a moment as your exhausted body relaxed momentarily. You couldn’t wait to get home and soak your butt in a hot bubble bath.
With the events of Ultron, there had been extra work load that you had volunteered to help out with at the Tower. You didn’t mind, of course. It meant spending a lot of time with the Avengers and a particular one at that too. Tony spent hours, sometimes days holed up in the lab, working with Bruce and yourself.
It was almost impossible not to be distracted or turned on by his presence there. To see him laser-focused at work, fingers gliding over keyboards and holograms in front of them as he paced about the space. It was all too hot.
Shutting your computer for the day, you grabbed your things and made your way out of the lab. Tony had retreated back to his floor some time ago and had promptly forgotten his phone on his work desk. It rang with a start, catching your attention and making you walk back in to grab it.
It wasn’t uncommon for you to bother the billionaire genius in his home since there had been multiple occasions where Dr. Banner asked you to summon the man whenever he got a lead on Ultron.
The elevator dinged to a stop, the doors opening to his grand living room that offered a view of New York people would kill for. His bedroom door seemed left ajar as you made your way over, stopping in your tracks as you heard a muffled groan.
Curiosity got the better of you as you sneaked a look inside his bedroom, not able to stop yourself as the sounds increased.
You felt your mouth go dry at the sight before you. Tony lay on his bed against the pillows, eyes scrunched up, pants undone., soft sighs leaving his lips as his hand moved up and down on his erect cock.
It felt so wrong to watch him pleasure himself in the privacy of his own home and yet so right, you felt yourself blush at the sight. It was like you were unable to look away, he had his fingers wrapped around his shaft, moving at a steady pace as you saw precum leak at the tip of his head. His pretty, thick lips were parted while his chest rose and fell, eyes shut in ecstasy.
You were about to peel your gaze away from the scene when you heard a faint whisper of what you thought was your name.
“Oh Y/N..” his breathy moan sent desire to pool right between your legs, a part of you still processing the whole thing while the other wanting to push that door open and join the man or perhaps help him finish.
His thumb swiped across his red tip before the pace of his strokes increased, his pants echoed in the room while you felt your entrance clench around nothing, desiring the very man who was masturbating while thinking of you.
You were sure your panties were ruined by the time Tony’s hips jerked and you saw him climax, ropes of cum spurting from his cock and spilling on his hand and lower abdomen. That had to be the hottest thing you’d seen in your life.
You definitely needed to take care of yourself after this, that bubble bath was going to be an elaborate one. His softened cock still lay open for your eyes to feast on, his cum scattered on his body begging you to be licked clean.
Your thoughts came to a standstill when the phone you held in your hand rang terribly loudly, interrupting the little moment. Your scramble to hide or run was rendered useless when Tony glanced outside and saw you.
“It is rude of you to just stand out there and watch, Miss Y/L/N. So inappropriate.”
#tony stark x reader#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark fluff#tony stark smut#tony stark x y/n#tony stark imagine#tony stark one shot#tony stark fic#tony stark x you#the stark squad#marvel fanfiction#mostly marvel musings#tony stark
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I know I am super late to take notice, forgive me for that BUT YOUR HEADER IMAGE!?? I LOVE IT!
🤩
thank you 💖😌😼
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“So when do I get my movie or streaming series? I’d make a way better protagonist and tell a way better story than anyone they currently got lined up!”
#not meant to be taken seriously! I'm just being silly!#musings#I've mostly stepped away from the Marvel movies and netflix shows mostly cause I'm not really interested anymore/trying to save money xD
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Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome.
🌼💛
Awww 🥺🥺🥺
It's nice to receive this from an equally wonderful person 🤭❤️
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writing superheroes on other blogs and generally getting the specific type of way that being a hero destroys a person at the end of the day always has me going Hm. whenever snow talks about being a hero.
#no snow is not specifically a superhero#( although lbr if he existed in a world in which those existed then it would definitely be something he would aim for. )#( even if that's against his overall. um. health. both mentally and physically it's just who he is. )#but his over attachment to the concept of wanting to be a hero#both in general and to specific people#is troubling at best!#me talking about my marvel muses but it's just reapplying the shape of natalia's and ororo's experiences as heroes#to snow in a way that better contextualizes how damaging it is to him#bc while the game does try to show some of that it's mostly shown through his perceived failures#( see : shit that happens that he really has no control over but feels like he SHOULD have. )#rather than the entirety of it which is that being a hero is exhausting and difficult and often leaves you up a creek without a paddle#even when you succeed!#even when you do everything right!#hm. i should figure out how to word this better at some point bc i do think it's important to keep in mind#the way that snow is both desperately attached to this concept#and the way that it's actively harmful to him.#it's like 9:49am and i don't have coffee don't @ me over whatever this is.#&. ooc. › general.#delete.
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ya know what, if you write any canon character that is tired of their difficult life or whatever and you wanna give them some 'normal' life plots - hmu, i can offer you my mess of an oc 👌
#;( this is anna *points to the muse* shes an a hole )#;( but for real - as long as i know at least something about the world your muse comes from? lets do this! )#;( warnig : my blog is mostly about sm.t but that doesnt mean all plots have to be! im more than okay writing nonsm.t things )#marvel rp#mcu rp#dc rp#dceu rp#twilight rp#vikings rp#fast and furious rp#lord of the rings rp#lotr rp#james bond rp#harry potter rp
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HAAPPPPYYYYY BIRTHDAYYYY
🎂
Thank you!! 💖💖💖
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Clingy Baby collection masterlist
a collection of varying muses labeling Reader as "clingy".
got another idea for being clingy? lemme hear it!
requests CLOSED
requesting rules and masterlist
mostly hurt and comfort, some angst
some sequels are being fleshed out
God's Plan
your boyfriend carries the worst parts of his job home, bringing to life one of your deepest-seeded insecurities.
>>> or when a fight breaks out with your boyfriend, you're called clingy to your face.
pairing: Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto x female!reader
word count: 3.1k+
fandom masterlist: FX's The Bear
🎭 drama
🥺 hurt 🚫 no REAL comfort
🙊 general language and content warning
🍄 toxic relationship
read here
part two:
Two to Tango
the aftermath of Carmy's words seem to rattle him more than you.
word count: 5.4k+
🎭 drama
❤️🩹 hurt and comfort
💔 small angst
🧸 small fluff
☠️ discussion of deceased family member
🙊 general language and content warning
💣 relationship angst
🔏 barely edited
read here
Curiosity Killed The Cat
few weeks after rescuing you from a kidnapper, you overhear your boyfriend-turned-savior complain about how clingy you've become.
>>> or you overhear your boyfriend call you clingy to his friends.
pairing: Mafia!Bucky Barnes x female!reader
word count: 5.1k+
fandom masterlist: Marvel
🎭 drama
❤️🩹 hurt and comfort
🦋 modern AU
💸 mafia AU
🙊 general language and content warning
🥊 brief depiction of physical violence and / or aggression
🫠 description of self-destruction
🔏 barely edited
read here
You Might Think It's Foolish
meeting your boyfriend's family for the first time creates anxiety, so, you stick to his side. at dinner, his mother calls out your clinginess - and Aemond doesn't defend you.
>>> or when someone else calls you clingy and he doesn't defend you / agrees with them.
pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x female!reader
word count: 3.1k+
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
🎭 drama
💔 angst
🥺 hurt 🚫 no comfort
💣 relationship angst
🐝 stand alone
🙊 general language and content warning
🐍 toxic family
🍄 toxic relationship...?
🔏 barely edited
read here
Not All That Glitters is Gold
during your engagement dinner, you learn from your fiancé's niece that he hold choice words about you.
>>> or when you find out he's been talking behind your back; calling you clingy. it comes to light during a public outing.
pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader
word count: 3.1k+
fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon
🎭 drama
💔 angst
❤️🩹 hurt and comfort
💣 relationship angst
⏳ AU timeline
🙊 general language and content warning
🔏 barely edited
read here
Save Me From Myself
in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.
request: Can i request joel miller for the clingy baby series!! Maybe they were traveling together w ellie and she clings to him bc he always kept her safe until he calls her clingy one day.
pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader
word count: 1.9k+
fandom masterlist: The Last of Us
⚠️ mild spoilers
🙊 general language warning
🥺 hurt 🚫 no comfort
💔 mild angst
❗️ short fic!
read here
requesting rules and masterlist
#queers gambit#queers gambit masterlist#clingy baby masterlist#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy x reader#carmy berzatto x female!reader#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy berzatto#carmy the bear#james bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#mafia bucky x reader#mafia bucky barnes#mafia au#mafia bucky x you#modern aemond targaryen x reader#modern aemond x you#modern aemond#modern aemond x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x f!reader#aemond targaryen x fem!reader#prince aemond targaryen#prince daemon targaryen#daemon x reader#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen x fem!reader#daemon targaryen x f!reader
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DREAMING OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS ෆ GOJO SATORU
⠀ event masterlist
“do you think it’s gonna snow this year?” gojo asks, voice hush in the darkness of your bedroom as he rests his head in his hands, his hands resting flatly on your stomach as you try to watch the movie you have flickering on the television. it’s a classic christmas movie, something gojo had insisted on putting in, but he’s not even paying attention as he looks out the window to the calming night sky.
you hum, head tilting to the side to look outside with him, the nightlife calm and serene for once as you run your hands through the top parts of his hair—fluffy and silky. his eyes are doing that thing, where they almost close before he’s opening them again, indicating a sort of sleepiness that invades the bones. “maybe. why don’t you wish for it for christmas?”
“wishing for things for christmas is for little kids.” he sticks his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout, pressing his ear to your chest as he sighs loudly. “my baby thinks i’m a baby.”
“sometimes you act like one.” you muse, looking away innocently as he jolts up from his position with a scandalized look on his face, mouth open wide. there’s a beat, as if he’s waiting for an apology that he’s certainly never going to get before he lays back down, grumbles leaving his lips rapidly. “case in point.”
“whatever.” he turns over now, facing away from you but sticks his head back ever so slightly so he’s still touching you. you’re not sure if he means to, but even if he were upset, he makes sure that the two of you are always touching. “you’re so mean to me.”
you hum contemplatively, hands sifting through his hair idly as you watch the movie without truly watching it. “geto thinks i could be meaner.”
“and he also thinks that the moon is made out of cheese.” gojo retorts, huffing dramatically so his chest rises and falls as he turns his head to look at you through one eye. “so i’m not trusting him as a judge of character.”
“i mean, he was joking, right?”
gojo’s silence is your only answer.
“is it snowing?” you ask a moment later, eyes drifting from whatever scene was happening in the television to the window. you squint and lean forward a little, trying to see if if’s truly snowing out or if you’re just seeing things.
“snow?!” gojo is running to the window before you know what’s happening, nose pressed against the glass and breath fogging up the window as he marvels at the outside. “it’s snowing!! i manifested that shit, do you see it?!”
you’re content to stay in bed, in the warmth of your heated blankets and the soft cozy pillow you’d spent months choosing and the plush mattress that had cost you an arm and a leg to buy, but your darling boyfriend has other plans for you. with a hand gripped on one of your arms, he rips you out of bed with a gleeful shout, pulling you in the direction of the door. the door leading to the outside where it was cold and snowing.
“satoru!” you yelp, narrowly dodging the shoddily made snowball he’s made in the point two seconds you’d looked away. “do not hit me!”
the outside is mostly untouched, save for the few and far between feet marks of dogs and their walkers. there’s about a foot and a half of loose snow outside, which makes making snowballs difficult for your snow-haired boyfriend. he’s got his tongue stuck out as he attempts to press the snow together into a ball shape. “i can’t make this stupid snow work with me!”
“no snowmen tonight, then.” you groan, sitting down in the snow and feeling thankful your boyfriend had made you take out the snow pants from storage the other day.
gojo groans, falling down in a huff next to you before whining and rubbing his ass. while the snow had buffeted your fall, apparently gojo has fallen with a bit of force—meaning he’d have a nice purple bruise on his ass in the morning. “stupid snow. this isn’t at all what i wished for.”
“oh, so you admit you wished for it to snow?” you tease, bumping your shoulder into his with a soft chuckle.
the red of his cheeks is either his embarrassment or the cold winds biting at them, but you’d like to think it was the former. hard to embarrass, you enjoy flustering gojo whenever you can. “i mean—i didn’t not wish for it to snow.”
“you’re so childish.” you laugh, hand grabbing some snow and shoving it onto his reddened cheek, making him swipe at your hand and pull you closer to him through the snow. “but i love that about you.”
“you love all of me, right?” he whispers, eyes searching across your face as he tilts his head to the side. ever the confident man, you suppose he can have his moments of insecurity, too.
you nod, pressing your cold nose against his. “i love you. all of you, gojo satoru.”
“i love you.” he presses his lips to yours gently. “always.”
#jujutsu kaisen gojo#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#gojo fluff#gojo x y/n#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#event!twelvedaysofxmas#txt!writing
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Taken pt. 9
If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.
a/n: screaming, crying, throwing up. i hope you guys enjoy this part as much as i do. also, sorry for the hiatus. i kind of got distracted with life. anyhoo. also. not proofed.
warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.
note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.
You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.
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“So, when you said a former agent, you meant…” Clint trails off, looking at Fury and Coulson for confirmation.
Bruce sits next to Tony, hands clasped underneath his chin in thought, eyes trained on the screen, analyzing it.
Coulson and Fury nod, but before anyone else can say anything, Bucky speaks.
“It’s Y/N.”
—
“Y/N’s alive?” Sam asks, but it’s mostly rhetorical. Fury and Coulson are the only ones who are not surprised.
“Agent Y/L/N-Barnes seems to be alive, yes. Of course, there is always the possibility that it’s a mask,” Coulson says.
“It has to be her,” Bucky mumbles to himself, focusing hard on the stilled image of you. He has believed you’re alive against all hope for months, and here you are, escaping Capital Hill.
“But if she’s alive, and if she’s the one killing U.S. politicians, then is she working with HYDRA?” Sam asks, anxiously eyeing Bucky.
Fury sighs, “We don’t know. All we know is that we need to stop her before word that an Avenger killed the president gets out.”
Bucky speaks up then.
“She’s not working for HYDRA. She wouldn’t do that.”
Tony sends Bucky a sympathetic look before playing devil’s advocate.
“We can’t know that. It’s out of character, but we never know how much HYDRA is truly capable of. They brainwashed you, so who’s to say they didn’t her?”
The room is tense, and Bucky is acutely aware that the team, his friends, are sympathetic. They’re sympathetic because they agree with Tony. Bucky shakes his head.
“That took years to program The Winter Soldier,” Bucky says cautiously, “and Y/N has a hell of a lot more to fight for than I did. If she’s working for HYDRA, then she’s playing an angle. Don’t you think it’s odd they let Bec go so easily? She had to have struck a deal.”
“Then why doesn’t she escape?” Natasha muses, but her tone tells Bucky she’s simply wondering aloud.
“Well, we wondered why she didn’t contact us through her phone,” Clint reminds. “Turned out she had a plan there; she led us right to the Siberian facility.”
Bucky shoots Clint an appreciative nod.
“Becca did say that they wanted her until Y/N struck a deal with them,” Steve remembers.
The room turns to look at him.
“We didn’t know what to do with that before now. We thought Y/N was dead, but if they faked her death, then that gets us off their backs to have her do what they want.”
“Still,” Sam says, “why not run?”
“They’re probably keeping a close eye on her. On us, even. She would run unless they have something to hold over her,” Natasha points out.
The team gets quiet for a while; everyone gets lost in their own thoughts.
Finally, Fury breaks the silence.
“We don’t know who else HYDRA is targeting, but we imagine there are more assassinations planned.”
—
“Alright, so, it’s settled,” Tony says.
The team had spent hours devising a plan to rescue Y/N, anxiously and meticulously going over every detail and turning over every rock.
The Avengers let out a breath they weren’t aware they were holding. At this point, as if on cue, however, Coulson enters the conference room he and Fury had vacated hours ago.
“Coulson?” Steve asks, eyebrows raising at the appearance of the agent.
Coulson nods in acknowledgement, a tight smile spreading upon his lips.
“Stark, can you pull up the security camera footage for the complex?” Coulson asks, staring at the screen showing your SHIELD ID photo, background, skill set, and a list of the crimes you’ve committed up to this point.
Tony nods, voicelessly tapping at the device in front of him, pulling up the cameras. The screen changes from SHIELD’s information on you to a split of each of the complex’s cameras. Coulson takes a step forward, staring at the screen, analyzing it for something the Avengers don’t see.
“Coulson?” Natasha speaks. “What exactly are we looking for?”
“That,” Coulson points at the third box from the right. Tony zooms in on the mentioned camera footage.
“Shit.”
—
“Get Bec out of here!” Bucky demands, picking Rebecca up and handing her to Sam as the complex’s alarm system sounds. Sam nods, holding the toddler close to his chest before running off to get her somewhere safe.
“Buck, what’s your plan here?” Steve questions.
Bucky ignores his friend, taking off running towards the roof of the complex. The security footage showed the intrusion on the northwest most part of the building.
“Buck!”
“I’m saving my wife,” Bucky grumbles, putting more power in his steps, launching himself faster ahead.
—
When Bucky makes it to the roof, he does not have to try too hard to find you. In fact, he notes that you’re startling easy to find.
“Honey, I’m home,” you say cheekily, waving a casual hand at your husband when he lays eyes on you for the first time in months.
“Y/N,” Bucky breathes out, taking a step forward.
You’re leaning against the wall that surrounds the perimeter of the roof, arms crossed.
“James.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Fine.”
“I don’t particularly believe you,” you say, eyeing the dark bags beneath his eyes and the tired demeanor he holds.
“You’ve been gone for months. We thought you were dead. It’s not been so pleasant.”
You hum, pushing off the wall and walking towards the man. You step up against him, resting a gentle hand upon his chest.
“Hmm,” you hum. “You’re not wearing a suit, you didn’t bring any weapons…” You allow yourself to trail off, watching carefully for a reaction.
He gives you a look. “You wouldn’t hurt me,” he says cautiously, but something about the situation feels off. He isn’t sure he believes the statement himself anymore.
You sigh and step away.
“You’ve heard, I’m sure, what I’ve been up to.”
“I have.”
“Not very on brand for me.”
“No.”
“Unfortunately, sweetheart, neither is what I’m here to do.”
“And what are you here to do?” Bucky feels anxiety creep up his chest.
“Marking 3 names off my list,” you say. “You’re not all that close to Captain America, are you?”
Bucky immediately clocks the question as odd. Not only is it weird that you’re addressing the murders you’ve committed as off brand, but to ask him about the only person from his past life as if he’s someone he met recently? To address Steve as Captain America? Bucky remembers the conversation the Avengers had recently, and he thinks you must be playing an angle, waiting for him to figure it out. He also knows your mannerisms better than his own, and he has never known you to speak so formally to him.
He feels a memory trying to come forward. A missing puzzle piece that would help him understand what’s going on.
You sigh, pulling Bucky away from his thoughts.
“I’m sorry, James, but I’m on a tight schedule, and I can’t hang out here all day. So, if you don’t mind, I’ve got a To-Do list.”
Bucky stands a little taller.
“Doll, I can’t let you cross out names on that list.”
“Sure you can, and you will.”
“Why would I do that?”
You pout. “Because you promised to support me in good and bad,” you say, referring to his wedding vows.
“I didn’t mean stand by while you murder the people closest to you.”
“Well, shit,” you say before you throw a right hook into Bucky’s jaw and sprint towards the stairs while he’s distracted.
Bucky clutches his jaw with his hand before standing up straight. He usually would have anticipated the punch, but this whole situation has thrown him. And you have a habit of getting him to let his guard down.
“Shit,” he says before taking off after you.
You manage to avoid Bucky for a while as you make your way through the compound, but he does catch up to you.
You lay eyes on Steve and you sprint in his direction.
“Y/N! What? Stop! You don’t have to do this!” Steve attempts to reason, holding his shield up to deflect a bullet you send flying his way. Steve notes it wasn’t hard to deflect, and he stores that information away for later. After all, SHIELD first took note of you for to your sniping ability. You don’t miss.
“Sorry, Rogers,” you say, shrugging. “I’m just a girl doin’ what a girl’s gotta do. Y’kno—Agh!”
You are cut off, letting out an unattractive yelp as you fall to the floor. It takes a moment to get you bearings, but you quickly realize Bucky had tackled you.
You fight back, but you allow Bucky to slide your gun away from you and across the floor.
“Y/N, stop!” Bucky begs, grabbing hold of your wrists with his metal hand and holding your arms taut while he holds your body down by straddling your torso.
You—to Bucky’s surprise—stop. Then, you raise an eyebrow as if to ask, “What do you want?”
“What are you doing? Killing the president? Trying to kill Steve? What’s your angle here?”
“Have you ever heard of Orpheus and Eurydice?” You ask.
Bucky gives you a look. Your question, after all, is out of left field. You ignore the look and continue.
“It’s a Greek myth. Orpheus and Eurydice are in love, right? But Eurydice does and is trapped in the Underworld. Well, Orpheus goes on a quest to get her back, and the only condition Hades gives him is that he doesn’t turn around on the way back out of the Underworld.”
“Where are you going with this?”
“If he turned around, Eurydice would be trapped in the Underworld forever, and she and Orpheus would never be together again. Never have a life together.”
“Y/N.”
“Orpheus turned around. I always thought that was stupid. I mean, I guess if you love someone, you’d want to turn around and check on them. Make sure they’re still there. But, on the other hand, if you love someone, and trust them…”
“You trust they’ll still be following you even if you don’t turn around,” Bucky finishes.
“Orpheus didn’t get a second chance to save Eurydice. Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid Orpheus would tell the humans all the secrets of the Underworld. Some versions say that the Muses kept his head, though, to sing songs forever. They managed to hear his voice even after he died.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Don’t turn around, James.”
“What?”
While Bucky is confused, distracted by your story, you wrench your wrists out from his grasp and thrust up with your hips. You manage enough momentum to swing Bucky off of you and you climb on top of him, switching positions.
“Well, my targets are gone,” you sigh, glancing down the hallway you had seen Steve run. You click your tongue and return your focus to Bucky, shaking your head slightly.
“Sorry, honey,” you say, knocking him out.
—
@just-henny y @jasminocano @browneyedgirl22-blog @barnesboo1967 @matchat3a @unkasworld @qwertyb2577 @raajali3 @yoruse @iilsenewman @alysianc @fairytalegirlofurdreams @marvelxlevram @casa-boiardi @buckybraneslover111 @hhiggs @smolracoon25 @questionableratatouille00 @heytheredemonsitsyourgirl @thearieunhinged @sebastianstansqueen @middaystarlight @talesofadragon @killerwendigo @ozwriterchick @kandis-mom
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#marvel x reader#bucky x you#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x reader fluff#bucky barnes x you#bucky x fem!reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes x reader angst
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The green-eyed monster
A/N: This was super random. Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed this fic!
Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader
Warnings: 18+ jealousy induced smut, lil choking and breeding kink?
Word count: 1941
Tony Stark Masterlist
.
“Shit!”
You cursed under your breath as you checked your watch, you were running late. Later than fashionably late would permit. But you had a good reason to be. Your stylist and hairdresser had done you up to perfection, all the efforts were worth it because you looked stunning. The dress you chose hugged your curves like a glove, a bold lip, fine jewelry and hair that complimented the outfit beautifully.
The charity event was merely an opportunity to remind a certain someone of what he had been ignoring for the past few weeks. You had to teach him a lesson.
Reaching the venue at record speed, you stepped inside feeling the best version of yourself, immediately grabbing eyeballs of almost everybody present there. Scanning the room, your eyes landed on the man of the hour. Anthony Stark. Looking dapper as ever in a custom-made tux, he was deep in conversation with several who’s who of the society, oblivious to your presence.
That would change soon, you thought.
Heading straight for the bar, you got yourself a glass of champagne, letting your gaze roam over the sea of people to find yourself a distraction. Lucky for you, you didn’t have to make much effort as a man from your past caught your eye and made a beeline in your direction.
“Y/N Y/L/N, as I live and breathe.” he exclaimed, wrapping you in a hug, his hand lingering on your bare skin.
“Noah Bennett. Since when did you start thinking about someone besides yourself?” you jested, celebrating on the inside as his eyes dipped down your body, letting you know your plan was working. From the corner of your eye, you saw a couple of people part to reveal Tony Stark with a curious look on his face.
“You look hot, Y/N. I’m sorry if I’m being too direct here but wow. Look at you!”
You laughed as he twirled you, placing a hand deliberately on his bicep.
“Always the flatterer. Honestly, it is so good to see you here, Noah. I hope you’ve made a sizable donation today. If not, I’m here to persuade you.” you winked, allowing him to get you another drink.
You spoke for quite some time, keeping the conversation light and flirty, you knew exactly what you were doing. Your boyfriend watched the whole scene from a distance, staring daggers at the man who had his hands all over his girl. He had zoned out of the conversation happening around him, focusing only on the two of you. You leaned over to whisper something in that man’s ear, all while his gaze dropped to your cleavage shamelessly, the guy chuckled before he did the same, making you shake your head and blush. It made his jaw tick, irritation bubbled within his chest watching the two of you.
A part of him wanted to intervene and pull you away from the creep, but another part who spoke on behalf of his pride refused. He remembered that man, he’d made a generous pledge for the charity. But right now none of that mattered as much as the fact that he had his arm around your waist, where it didn’t belong. ‘
As time passed, you chatted your way closer to where Tony was, not sparing him much of a glance as you worked your charm to get more rich people to donate for the good cause. Normally, the two of you would be inseparable but given the little fight you had had last week, it made sense for you to make separate appearances. Plus you had your little entry planned to teach him a lesson.
“Oh Y/N, the event is already a success. Well done! You’ve managed to charm everyone into emptying their pockets.” an elderly gentleman complimented you, making you giggle. Ulterior motives aside, the evening truly was a big win.
“When the hostess is easy on the eyes, I guess it helps a lot, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Stark?”
You felt his presence before you saw the man, the familiar scent and aura that he carried enveloped your senses before a protective arm slid around your waist, pulling you to his side.
“And here I thought I’d have to undo a couple of my shirt buttons to make you guys cough it up.”
His statement earned him laughter from the crowd, his thumb rubbing the bare skin on your back in a way that made your breathing hitch. Turning to look at him, you were met with eyes that ogled your decked up form, the gaze was hungry yet mixed with a hint of annoyance.
Tony leaned over and pressed his lips against your ear, making it hard for you to ignore the excitement you felt.
“What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?”
You feigned confusion, shrugging nonchalantly before taking a sip of your drink, further adding to his irritation. It seemed to be the last straw as Tony grabbed your hand and hastily made his way out of the venue, leaving the guests perplexed.
He remained silent the entire ride back home, keeping his eyes focused on the road. You noticed his knuckles turned white from gripping the wheel tightly.
This would be a lot of fun, you thought. Winding Tony up had an effect on you, you couldn’t wait for him to have his way with you. Pretty confident that sooner or later he would. The night wasn’t over yet.
“You slept with the guy, didn’t you?” he asked out of the blue, still not sparing you a glance.
“Which guy?”
“Don’t fucking test me, Y/N. You know exactly who I’m talking about.” he seethed, putting his foot on the gas and sped up.
“Oh and where did you get that idea from, may I ask?” you suppressed a grin, keeping the tone of your voice light.
“I have eyes. I can see. Someone was way too touchy back there. I don’t like it when others touch my stuff.”
This made you scoff and look out the window as your home came into view. You didn’t move from your seat until Tony opened your door and grabbed your hand once again, taking determined strides up to your house.
“Are you jealous?” you were slightly out of breath keeping up with his pace, the smirk in your voice pretty evident.
“I don’t get jealous.”
“Oh no, you’re right. You just get territorial, and protective. And just a tad needy, right?”
Clicking his tongue, Tony shoved you inside your bedroom, slamming the door behind him before crashing his lips on yours. This kiss had fire, brimming with passion but laced with anger as he walked you back until your back hit the wall, eliciting a gasp. Taking this opportunity, his tongue made it past your lips, clearly winning the game of dominance.
“I think you forgot that you have a partner who needs all your attention before any of your ‘friends’ do.” he murmured against your lips before letting them trail down your neck, nipping at your skin.
“So you were jealous.” you smirked, tugging on his hair as he bruised your skin with a hickey, his fingers grazing up your leg to reach between them, growling when he realized you weren’t wearing panties.
“Fuck yeah I was.” his hand cupped your sex, fingers brushed along the slit that had gathered slick already. Without warning, two of his fingers pushed past your entrance, assaulting your walls by stretching them out.
“Take off your dress.” he commanded, his left hand wrapping itself around your throat gently, his brown eyes darkened with lust.
“You don’t get to order me around.” you didn’t sound convincing at all, given that he chose the moment to curl his fingers inside your tight heat, you gasped.
“Slow down, Tony.” You breathed.
“Take it off or I’ll do it for you.”
The pressure on your throat increased ever so slightly, causing your walls to tighten around his thick digits as he continued pumping. Your eyes were shut in pleasure when you heard the fabric of your dress rip, falling at your feet in shreds. The dress you spent thousands of dollars on was destroyed in seconds, not that you were complaining. If anything, you were counting on this to happen.
Tony made you open your mouth and fed you his fingers, the taste of your desperate arousal evident on them as you rolled your tongue. His cock twitched in his dress pants, eager to be freed and buried deep within your pussy.
You fumbled with his belt, undid the zip and shoved his pants down, earning a chuckle from him. Your eyes flashed victory before arousal took over completely, your body ached for him.
Holding the back of your knees, he entered you in one swift motion, a synchronic moan echoed in the room. Tony didn’t hold back after that, his thrusts set a brutal pace that made you see stars, the line of pleasure and pain thinning as he continued to plough into your sopping heat.
“You like being reminded who you belong to, don’t you sweetheart?” He grunted, every thrust sent you closer and closer to the edge.
Fervently nodding, you held onto his shoulders as cock threatened to split you in two, unable to comprehend much else.
“Cat got your tongue? Use your words, baby.”
“Yes! I wanted you to get jealous tonight, Tony.”
He paused momentarily, making you whine which he swallowed in an instant, slanting his lips on yours. The kiss that contained everything, from dominance to love and everything in between. While he felt guilty for ignoring you these past few weeks, a part of him loved you for your antics, especially ones which ended like this.
His cock twitched inside your walls as he resumed.
“What if I come inside you, huh? What if I fill you up with my seed, get you pregnant? Show them all who you belong to..what do you say, sweetheart?”
He breathed against your skin, his voice muffled in your hair. You answered by clamping your walls around his length, pulling him further inside, tugging on his hair to signal you were close too.
“I’m gonna fill you up, Y/N.” he panted, watching your hand reach down to rub your clit as you brought yourself pleasure.
“Come for me, Tony. Come inside me.” You cried, burying your face in his neck as your walls fluttered around his length. Tony followed with a final twitch of his cock, ropes of cum painting your walls as he filled you up, giving you all he had.
He carried you to bed, still snug inside you and laid you down, littering soft kisses along your shoulder. You grinned victoriously, carding your fingers through his hair.
“Why didn’t you tell him we’re together? He was all over you.” He kept his voice soft, tugging at your heartstrings as always.
“You did what you did to get my attention, and I did what I had to to get yours. Now we’re even.”
Tony looked up at your face, his expression incredulous with a hint of pride playing on his lips.
“You little minx. Have I told you I love you?” He pecked your lips a couple of times, slowly resuming to thrust inside you with his soft cock, pushing his cum further inside and keeping it there.
“Not that I recall. No.”
#tony stark x reader#tony stark smut#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark x y/n#tony stark fluff#tony stark fic#tony stark one shot#tony stark imagine#tony stark x you#the stark squad#marvel fanfiction#mostly marvel musings#tony stark#iron man x reader#iron man
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Like a god of old
For @cilil
At first, there is only darkness, like mist on a winter morning. Then there is a glow not unlike dawn piercing through clouds and Théoden blinks, surprised to be able to see. He takes a breath in, shocked not to hear his lungs rattle and feel his chest ache, before noticing he does not need to breathe anymore. He breathes in again anyway, relishing in the lack of pain. If this is death, Théoden thinks, it is a hundredfold better than his last years of life. Only then does he notice the presence beside him, just at the edge of his vision.
Careful, Théoden sits up, marvelling at how easy it is, and look at the being. He looks like an old man, in the dim light, yet his stature is strong and his face unlined by the years. Théoden peers at his face, half hidden in the shadows, and feels his breath hitch. “Father?” he asks quietly, for the man looks like Thengel as he was in his prime. Yet something is off.
The man smiles and his features shift just the slightest, and he bears now a face Théoden knows from countless carved statues and innumerable descriptions in songs. “In a way,” the likeness of Eorl the young says, voice deep as the woods. “I am you father as I am the father of your forefathers, of countless warriors and hunters from Ages past, Théoden Ednew son of Thengel.”
The man’s - no, the god’s - face shifts again, taking the appearance of a dark-haired Elf of noble bearing, and Théoden looks at him in awe. “Béma, my Lord,” he whispers in awe. “So I am well and truly dead, in the Halls of my Fathers…”
This last addition is mostly for him, more a whispered thought than anything else, but Béma still answers. “You are dead indeed, Théoden King, and your death was bold and glorious like few before you. But this is not the halls of your fathers, but the Halls of Mandos. This is but a step in jour journey. Come, walk with me.”
Stunned, Théoden grasps the god’s outstretched hand to help him stand. The motion is strangely fluid, the old ache in his hip gone as if his body is more thought than flesh. Of course he cannot feel pain, he muses, he is dead and his body must be a memory of sorts, an old image he clings to.
Béma leads Théoden through vast halls shrouded in mist, the place eerily silent for their feet do not make a sound on the ground. “I heard of your valour, son of Rohan,” Béma says almost conversationally. “I looked over you on the Tapestries and saw your fate. Be proud, for your end was not in vain and brought a new Age in its wake.”
“I was but an old man riding to his death in despair,” Théoden answers without thinking. He glances at the god walking beside him, and finds he is changed again. Gone is the noble Elflord, replaced by a tall and rugged hunter. Théoden thinks he sees shadows of antlers about his head. “I did my duty to my people after I let them suffer for too long.”
There is a silence before Béma speaks again. “You were despairing indeed, knew you were riding to your death, and yet you met it in your own terms. This demands no small amount of courage, Théoden King. I heard songs already comparing you to me, charging the enemy with fury and might…”
Théoden suddenly feels like a boy barely of age and ducks his head. “They mean no ill, Lord Béma,” he says almost bashfully. “And most certainly my deeds are made grander than they are.”
The god laughs, a deep, rumbling sounds that reminds Théoden of galloping hooves pounding the ground. “Old tales are made to be sung again and again, and I have no grudge against the bards likening you to me, son of Rohan. And I may even say that they are more flattering to me than you. For, you see, I am made for battle and blood, while you had to shape yourself for this role in pain and despair. And you turned this despair to rage, to strength to face your enemy head on in a way I will never be able to. Yes, you are strong, Théoden King, and worthy of all the songs that will be sung about you in the Age to come. But we reached the path you have to take now, I cannot go forward.”
Indeed, they stopped walking, and they are facing doors that look carved out of the very mist that bathe the place. Théoden runs his hand, calloused but smooth of any wrinkles, on the shifting shapes of the doors. He sees a child crying, a woman falling down a ravine, a king lying down to sleep, a woman with her babe in her arms closing her eyes. He breathes in, for the last time he knows, and look back at Béma.
“My Lord, I am honoured you took the time to lead me here,” he says with a bow of his head, so light without a crown resting on his brow.
“The honour was mine, son of Rohan. Go now, your time has come to take this road.”
Théoden closes his hand on the door handle, hesitate. Breathes out. Looks back at Béma once more.
“Your forefathers await you, Théoden King. They are proud of you,” the god says with a warm smile that remind Théoden of his mother’s smile.
Théoden nods at Béma, smiles back and open the doors.
Inspired by this post: https://www.tumblr.com/curiouselleth/746143860815740928/the-ghost-of-jrr-tolkien-rising-from-the
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Skyfall | Kylian Mbappé
Pairing: Kylian Mbappé | OC
As she gazed out of the window, her eyes lingered on the sprawling cityscape of Paris below, a tapestry of lights and shadows. With a resolute heart, she made a silent vow to herself - to live fiercely, to be the champion for those silenced in the shadows. The path ahead was fraught with challenges, but her resolve was unyielding, a debt of honor to the one who believed in her when doubt cast its long shadow. He had been her mentor, her guardian; he had taken her under his protective wing at a time when skepticism clouded her every step. His unwavering presence had been her fortress, standing valiantly by her side, a solitary defender against a sea of naysayers in those echoing halls of judgment that was the Assas.
A solitary tear, a crystal testament to her inner turmoil, traced a path down her cheek, caressing her skin like a whisper of the past. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, inhaling deeply, though the city's air was tinged with the bitter notes of reality, but mostly pollution (and was that piss?). A sudden, sharp cough, rattled her body, breaking the spell of her reverie. A rueful smile touched her lips as she mused on the cinematic trope of the enigmatic lawyer, solitary and contemplative, gazing out over a city - a scene far more inspiring in a James Bond movie than in real life.
With a finger raised towards the dark sky, the young woman whispered a prayer into the night. 'Vae victis,' she breathed, her words a soft caress against the chaos of the world, 'woe to the conquered.' Her whispered incantation rode the winds, a spectral force, stirring an unseen tremor that resonated through the city, a silent herald to those who would stand against her.
Chapter One
August 12th, 2023
Parc des Princes
8:00 p.m.
One hour before kickoff, Laila was seated in the office of President Nasser Al-Khelaifi, wishing he would just get to the point. She had to admit, Kylian Mbappé possessed an almost uncanny ability to send the club's president into bouts of extreme hypertension. The obsession with the young French star seemed borderline obsessive to Laila, almost creepy. She often marveled at how Mbappé managed to maintain his composure and resist the urge to confront the old geezer. From a business standpoint, however, she could grasp why the PSG president was so adamant about retaining the French prodigy; after all, money makes the world go round.
Despite her desires to be anywhere else, fate had different plans. Her late mentor had insisted that she start her so-called mission with the French football club for reasons he didn’t entirely foreclose. It was in these moments, she felt a deep kinship with Harry Potter who also had a mentor who seemed to leave the world with more questions than answers despite the world going to shit. Even from beyond the grave, he seemed to enjoy watching her struggle in this unexpected role. Being a lawyer for PSG was far from what her teenage self had envisioned for her future. But such was life.
“Je ne peux pas croire qu’après tout ce que nous avons fait pour ce connard, il ne veut pas renouveler. Il veut quoi de plus put-” the president grumbled in his accented french.
“Avec le plus grand respect, Mr. le président,” Laila interjected, “vous devez comprendre que les résultats du PSG après le mercato n’étaient pas satisfaisant. Vous lui avez promis un bon mercato, et pourtant, ils ont été éliminés dès les huitièmes de finale en ligue des champions. Et pourquoi? Parce que vous avez mis tout l'accent sur l'acquisition de stars. Sérieusement, qu’est-ce qui vous a traversé l’esprit en voulant avoir Messi, Neymar, et Mbappé dans la même équipe? Et vous pensez vraiment que Messi allait s’essayer si proche de la retraite?”
The words tumbled out of Laila before she could stop them, her frustration with the president's incessant complaints reaching its peak. Sometimes, he acted like a petulant child.
“Et alors, c’est de ma faute ça ?” President Al-Khelaifi retorted defensively.
“Si vous voulez des stars dans votre équipe, Mr. le Président, vous devez avoir un entraîneur capable de gérer leurs égos astronomiques. Messi venait du FC Barcelone, et il était évident le respect qu’il avait pour le PSG. Malheureusement, un coach comme Christophe Galtier ne fait qu'empirer les choses,” Laila countered.
“En tout cas, passons à autre chose. Je veux que tu ailles voir Mbappé et sa famille et que tu essaies de le convaincre. Ils vont être là ce soir pour voir le match.” (As usual, the president didn’t want to discuss anything that put him in a bad light)
“Peut-être que la première chose à faire serait de lui dire qu’il ne sera plus dans le loft?”
“Oui, oui, dis-lui qu’il peut revenir, mais je veux qu’il reste. C’est compris?”
“Sí, señor,” she replied sarcastically, exiting the room swiftly as she noticed President Al-Khelaifi’s eye begin to twitch.
As Laila stepped out of the president's office, she let out a deep sigh and made her way down to the Salon Louvre. Truly, Nasser should’ve been smarter than this but money does have a way of blinding a person. Regardless, she had a job to do and if it meant that she had to play Nasser’s little games, she would do it. Laila knew exactly what the end goal was and she wasn’t going to get distracted.
As she made her way to the Salon Louvre, where Chef Arnault had promised to reserve some of his renowned crème fraîche and caviar deviled eggs for her, she couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement for the match. Parc des Princes always pulsated with infectious energy and passion, which she adored. The stadium itself was incredible, and the Ultras knew how to light up a stadium. Every time she scrolled through Twitter or Instagram, she saw the tifos they made. The huge banners were truly works of art, and she deeply admired and respected the fans for the effort they put into them.
Her thoughts drifted to her three musketeers, her closest friends, and how carefree they had been before life's harsh realities had intruded. She reminisced about that summer night of August 14th, 2021, when they had come to watch PSG vs Racing Club de Strasbourg, the first match after COVID restrictions were lifted. How different things were back then. She yearned to reconnect and mend the fractures time had caused, but deep down, she knew it was perhaps a futile wish. With her eyes brimming with unshed tears, Laila wandered through the hallways leading to the salon, lost in her memories. Absorbed in her thoughts, she didn't notice the figure in front of her and walked straight into what felt like a very warm wall.
“Tabarnak-,” she swore, instinctively rubbing her nose.
“Pardon, mademoiselle,” a voice apologized.
Startled, Laila looked up and found herself face to face with the French captain. Flustered, she took a step back, momentarily at a loss for words. Kylian Mbappé stood before her, and she couldn't help but notice how strikingly handsome he was. Dressed casually in a white Dior t-shirt and paired with stylish brown pants, which complemented his athletic build. His confident posture and the easy smile playing on his lips added to his striking appearance. He naturally carried a certain air of charisma that left her with a dry throat and a racing heart.
And God, those dimples...
How was she supposed to argue with this living reincarnation of big dick energy? Much less, convince him that he would be better off staying in a club where it was quite unlikely that he would ever win a Champions League, forget a Ballon d’Or. Her professor was so lucky to be lounging in the afterlife, because when she did find him, she would make him pay for putting her in this situation.
Kylian's gaze met Laila's, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes at her evident surprise. "You okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
"Yeah, just... wasn't expecting a human roadblock," Laila joked, trying to mask her nervousness. The corners of his mouth twitched in a smile, those famous dimples making a brief appearance.
"I've been called worse," he chuckled. Kylian's smile took on a knowing edge, his gaze sharp yet playful. "So, Laila Soltani, the lawyer Nasser has brought in to convince me to stay at PSG, eh?"
Laila's eyes widened slightly, her eyebrows arching in surprise."Yes, that's me. How did you know?"
Kylian leaned in slightly, a playful grin spreading across his face. “See, now I’m more inclined to be offended. Athletes can read too, you know?” he teased, nodding towards her badge.
Laila felt her cheeks warm. “Oh, n-no, that’s not... I mean, I wasn’t—” she stammered, her words tumbling over each other in her fluster.
He laughed, a light, easy sound that seemed to echo around them. “I’m just messing around with you. Besides, it’s not every day the president hires someone specifically to deal with me. You must be quite persuasive.”
Laila laughed, a sound more relaxed than she felt. "I'll take that as a compliment, Mr. Mbappé. But yes, that's why I’m here, in part. Though, convincing someone of your caliber to stay... that's a tall order. My greatest adversary so far."
Kylian's eyes glinted with amusement. "Greatest adversary, huh? Sounds like you’re ready for battle. Just remember, I'm not so easily swayed."
"Oh, we'll see about that," Laila retorted, her own eyes sparkling with the challenge. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."
He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Looking forward to it, Mademoiselle. May the best person win."
With a final chuckle, Kylian turned and strode away, leaving Laila to ponder the intriguing encounter. She shook her head, a smile lingering on her lips, and continued her journey to the salon Louvre. As she entered, she was immediately greeted by the buzz of fans, whose enthusiasm seemed to infect her immediately. The modern design boasted a sleek and refined look, with geometric light fixtures casting a constellation of warm, ambient light across the polished floor.
She found Chef Arnault behind the mini bar, a silver-maned sage in the world of haute cuisine. With the twinkle of seasoned joy in his clear blue eyes, he beckoned Laila over with a broad grin that seemed to know more than it let on.
"Well, well, if it isn't our lawyer," he teased, the light in his eyes matching the mischief in his tone as he took in her flushed appearance. "You look like you've just spent the whole evening sweating in a sauna. Let me guess, Mbappé charm in action?"
Laila rolled her eyes, but the corners of her mouth turned upward involuntarily. "Is it that obvious?"
"Only to those who know," he chuckled, presenting her with a plate of deviled eggs, each a small culinary work of art with creamy filling and a crown of caviar. "Here, I made these just for you. They might just give you the boost you need for the evening to deal with the capitaine."
Laila decided to just brush off Arnault's teasing and, not wanting to wait another second, she tossed back a whole deviled egg. The taste was amazing—so good it almost made her moan right there at the bar.
With a quick thanks to the chef, she slipped through the crowd of fans as she heard Michel Montana's voice encouraging the Ultras to cheer for the team. Their chatter was just noise against the hum in her head as she moved to her seat. It was pretty close to the president's spot, giving her an incredible view of the field.
She dropped into her seat, taking in the low buzz of the stadium and the distant echo of the players getting their game faces on. The excitement was kicking in. This wasn't just another day at the office for Laila; it was like stepping onto a chessboard where every move counted. The match was about to start, and she wasn't just thinking about the football. It was game time on all fronts.
___________________________________________________________
A/N: Hello, my lovelies. I'm back 😘
#kylian mbappe fanfic#kylian mbappe smut#kylian imagines#kylian mbappe#kylian mbappé#kylian mbappe imagine#kylian mbappe x y/n#kylian mbappe angst
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Last Updated: 2023-12-24
Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite James 'Bucky' Barnes stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.
Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning
❆ Mission Mistletoe by spilledkauffie • 〔F〕 •
Summary: "Sam sets up Bucky at a Christmas party"
❆ Mistletoe Gram by coffee-with-bucky • 〔F〕 •
Summary: "Steve sends a web-swinging superhero to deliver a mistletoe gram to his best friend and his date"
❆ Not Another Day by imamotherfuckingstar-lord • 〔F〕 •
Summary: "Bucky tries to convince you he's serious about his feelings —you think he's just drunk."
❆ Christmas Comfort by wewritesoyoucanenjoy • 〔F〕 •
❆ Christmas Day by jewels2876 • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
❆ Christmas with You by mostly-marvel-musings • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
❆ Comfy by jewels2876 • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
❆ Forever by oneshots-imagines-and-that • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
❆ Good Night My Super Soldier by imaginingawholenewworld • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
❆ Home for Christmas by iwillbeinmynest • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
❆ Not Alone by jpat82 • 〔F〕 •
❆ One Cold Night by iwillbeinmynest • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
❆ Perfect Present, the by wewritesoyoucanenjoy • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Vinyl
❆ Celebrating Christmas w/ Bucky… by espinosaurusrexex • 〔F〕 •
❆ Spending Winters w/ Bucky by teamatsumu • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
See Also: Navigation || James Barnes Master Index
Authors: @coffee-with-bucky || @espinosaurusrexex || @imaginingawholenewworld || @imamotherfuckingstar-lord || @iwillbeinmynest || @jewels2876 || @jpat82 || @mostly-marvel-musings || @oneshots-imagines-and-that || @spilledkauffie || @teamatsumu || @wewritesoyoucanenjoy ||
#Bucky Barnes x Reader#Bucky Barnes x Female Reader#Bucky Barnes x Y/N#Bucky Barnes x You#Bucky x Reader#Bucky x Female Reader#Bucky x Y/N#Bucky x You#Sebastian Stan x Reader#Sebastian Stan x Female Reader#Sebastian Stan x Y/N#Sebastian Stan x You#Marvel Fanfiction#Marvel Fanfic#Bucky Fanfiction#Bucky Fanfic#Sebastian Stan Fanfiction#Sebastian Stan Fanfic
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[Wedding Planner AU] Part 2: On the Restaurant's Balcony Area.
Tagging: @unfortunatelyevent @usernamesareoverratedseriously and @mademoisellemacabre , all of whom have expressed wanting to read more of this AU. I hope you like it. 🖤
--
"I was thinking the wedding should take place just as the sun starts to dip into the horizon, and the reception be held right after," Mrs. Nyx Endless says, then titters. "Of course, the reception would last until morning. We have to make sure that all our hundreds of guests are happy until they leave, and that would be whatever time they decide to leave. I'm thinking an open bar and two dozen new hors d'oeuvres every half an hour. We'd absolutely hate to bore anyone."
Hob nods and notes all of those down, saying nothing but already cursing internally. A sunset wedding alone is going to be hell to arrange. He'd have to consult actual meteorologists for it, and then pray to a hundred different gods to make sure it's not going to be rainy, cloudy, or whatever the hell England's weather is planning to do on that date. And two dozen new hors d'oeuvres every half an hour? Christ.
"A sunset wedding sounds marvellous, Nyx," Mrs. Muse agrees. "The golden hues of the sun would complement the golden theme of the wedding. And, of course, Calliope must look like Midas's daughter herself."
Hob nods dutifully again and notes that down, careful to keep his face blank, then bites the insides of his cheeks so he doesn't laugh in Mrs. Muse's face at that unfortunate reference.
Were Ms. Calliope to look like Midas's daughter herself, then Dream would be marrying a silent, golden statue. But then again, maybe he would prefer that. Lord knows he'd want someone as different from Hob as he could get, who everyone and their 3rd butler knows is just one dirty, stinking, unworthy, flea-bitten mongrel.
"I..." Calliope hesitates, then looks around for support. Hob pointedly does not notice how she toys with Dream's fingers, and how Dream squeezes her hand back. It looked like an automatic, intimate gesture. A silent conversation where meanings are translated almost instantaneously because of how well one understands the other. Hob looks steadfastly down at his notes and wills his own hands not to shake. "I would just like to have a simple garden wedding, actually."
Mrs. Muse tuts at her. "Nonsense, darling. A 'simple garden wedding' will not be the most talked-about event of the season. No, we'll have to have your wedding on a beach, somewhere lovely with white sand, and you'll be bedecked in topaz and sapphires like a goddess."
Mrs. Endless gasps in excitement. "Oh, Mnemosyne, that's such a brilliant idea! Sweet Calliope would look absolutely stunning in topaz and sapphire jewelry, while Dream could wear some matching blue and yellow roses pinned on his lapel."
Hob, again, says nothing to that and only notes everything down. In Calliope's previously empty column, he writes down '(simple) garden wedding.' In Mrs. Muse's column, he adds 'white sand beach wedding, sapphire and topaz jewelry (lots).' In Mrs. Endless's column, he adds 'blue and yellow roses pinned on groom's lapel.'
(Hob doesn't think he can write Dream's name yet. He thinks even that will hurt him.)
Dream has yet to say anything, and his column is as empty as the promises he once made to Hob. "And you, Mr. Endless?" Hob asks his notes. "Do you have any preferences?"
Dream takes a moment to even acknowledge that he has been asked a question. Hob thinks this is because Dream's father, that old curmudgeonly bastard, just died a year ago, and Dream is probably used to others saying, 'Mr. Endless' and the title referring only to his father. Well tough luck, because Hob isn't about to call him Young Master Dream or whatever their staff calls the Endless children.
"Anything Calliope wants," is what he finally says, voice still sounding the same, so hypnotizing and deep, if a bit hoarse, like he wasn't used to talking anymore. His eyes remain on the mostly full plate in front of him. He has barely eaten the previous courses, and his small square of chocolate cake with raspberry filling (decorated with gold leaf and a small gravity-defying chocolate sculpture of a bird in flight) had only been played with to create the illusion that he took a bite.
Hob hates that he still notices these things. Notices these things and worry. That it still makes him want to drag Dream to the nearest hole-in-the-wall restaurant he knows where they serve cheap but hearty meals that fill your stomach as the cozy atmosphere fills your soul.
"Dream," Mrs. Endless scolds. "Will it kill you to sound enthusiastic? This is your wedding, too, you know!"
Mrs. Muse hushes her friend and coos at Dream. "Oh, Nyx, please, it's fine." To her daughter, she says, "Did you hear that, Calliope? Dream says, 'Anything you want,' so you better want something truly spectacular! My, what a good man your son is, Nyx," she continues, seemingly not noticing how Mrs. Endless is continuing to scold Dream through her eyes. "So sweet and accommodating."
Mrs. Muse then turns to Hob like he is just another lady in her court during rich-people tea time. Like they were close and she isn't thinking about how his mere presence is polluting the very air she breathes. "Isn't he just the sweetest, Mr. Gadling?"
Hob thinks about his boyfriend Dream from years ago and how he is in the mornings, wearing nothing but Hob's ratty jumpers, his messy hair that looks like a bird's nest, his eyes soft and blinking sleep away, smiling at Hob like he's the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. He thinks about Dream's gentle, addicting little kisses that Hob only token protests at because finals week is coming up and they need to study and not fuck like rabbits again. He thinks of Dream saying, 'yes,' saying, 'I love you, Hob,' saying, 'I'll love you forever.'
Hob nods politely, showing Mrs. Muse his most impersonal smile and speaking in his most professional voice. "I'm sure he is."
#wedding planner au#CW: overbearing mothers#CW: discrimination based on social class#to the tune of 12 Days of Christmas: On the current date todaaay I give to all of you 😊#28 STAB WOUNDS#lmao sorry#CW: pain?#dreamling#the sandman#my writing#good job my thumbs
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A Reverse Steve Rogers
Jack Thompson x Reader
Masterlist - Taglist
Requested by @hawaiianpizzaenjoyer !! Thanks for the request, and for being so patient while I got it done! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!
Fandom: Marvel
Summary: Y/N, an Avenger, friend of Tony Stark, and the one who helped Steve Rogers adjust to the 21st century after he came out of the ice, gets flung back into the 1940s when something goes wrong on a training mission. She has no idea how long her stay in the 40s might be, but one way or another, it's going to be interesting.
Word Count: 4,684
Category: Fluff, Humor
A/N: This doesn't follow any of the season 2 timeline lol, just some vague stuff put together for the sake of this story.
Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.
"We could always just find another ticket for her and make up a reason for her to be there on her own..."
"Yeah? Like what? At this event, anybody with the slightest hole in their story is gonna stick out like a sore thumb.”
I looked between Peggy Carter and Daniel Sousa as they talked, frantically trying to figure out what to do with me tonight. They were currently in the middle of breaking up a secret society in Los Angeles, and they had a mission disguised as a date tonight where they'd be infiltrating a fancy party being thrown by said society.
Unfortunately for them, I'd landed in their laps (pretty literally) this afternoon, and accidentally thrown a wrench into their whole operation.
One minute, I'd been doing a training mission with the Avengers. The next, I'd been falling on top of a desk in the SSR in 1947. I still didn't know exactly what had thrown me back in time, but no matter what the cause, the fact didn't change that I was here, and would be for the foreseeable future.
I'd almost had a heart attack when I'd looked up to see THE Peggy Carter, founder of SHIELD and total badass, standing in front of me. I think I freaked her and Daniel out a little by fangirling the minute I got up off the floor, but a stranger landing in the middle of their super high-level organization probably would've landed me in the interrogation room anyway.
Thankfully, I knew Steve Rogers pretty well, and so did Peggy. I'd mentioned his name briefly when trying to explain how I knew who she was, but then I'd been able to use what I knew about Steve and the stories he'd shared with me to convince her I was telling the truth about time travel.
Since then, we'd done some brief introductions and I'd been let out of the interrogation room. I'd been given the bare minimum details of the mission to understand the conversation, and now I sat on the edge of a desk watching Daniel and Peggy talk as they tried to adjust their plans.
"Perhaps Mr. Jarvis would be available on short notice to take her as a date..." mused Peggy.
"Whoa, Jarvis? Oh my gosh, the real person Jarvis is alive and walking around right now. That makes sense," I said, mostly talking to myself.
"That still doesn't solve the problem of them not being on the guest list," continued Daniel, he and Peggy only briefly glancing my way at the outburst.
"Maybe Howard could help us secure another two."
"He already wore out his welcome with these guys to get you in there the first time."
"Did you just say Howard? As in Howard Stark?"
Peggy and Daniel groaned in unison.
"Don't tell me you're a big fan of him too?" groaned Daniel.
"His ego's already big enough as it is," Peggy agreed.
"No, it's not that, I- uh... nevermind." I pushed off the desk, waving off thoughts of Tony. I still wasn't clear on how this time travel stuff worked, and I didn't want to go telling people about Howard Stark's currently nonexistent son without more assurance it wouldn't have any crazy impact first. "Look, you guys clearly don't have space for me in this mission. The best path is a small team, specifically a couple, who can enjoy the night like a regular date while still gathering intel and handling the mission."
Peggy and Daniel shared a look, and I could see an entire conversation passing between them. I continued.
"I might not know much about the forties, but I'm still a capable adult. I'm an Av- I was on a team with Steve to take on missions around the world. I'll be fine handling myself for a bit while you guys take care of business."
"Are you sure?" asked Peggy with a frown.
"We don't want to completely abandon you. Disappearing from your own time and reappearing in another can't be easy," added Daniel.
I gave them a faint smile, momentarily overwhelmed with memories. I'd first met Steve when he'd shown up in the future and needed someone to help him adjust. I'd been a SHIELD agent at the time, responsible for liaising with Tony Stark, so they figured helping a living legend adjust would be nothing compared to that.
They'd been right, and we'd hit it off the bat. When Tony eventually formed the team, I'd been on the roster. And now, I was the one being faced with adjusting to another time.
"It's not easy," I said to Daniel, the smile still on my face. "But I also don't need babysitters when those babysitters have important, world-saving duties to attend to. I actually have a little bit of an advantage, going back in time. I took history classes and whatnot, so I at least have some idea of how this world works."
"Well, if you're sure-"
"Alright! Sousa, Marge, fear not! The cavalry is here."
I turned at the sound of a new voice, but not before I caught Peggy and Daniel rolling their eyes so far back into their heads I couldn't see the pupils. A tall, blond man in a suit was striding across the room towards us, and a second after I started sizing him up he noticed me and did the same.
"Who's this?" he asked, coming to a stop in front of us. Peggy and Daniel didn't answer right away, apparently working together to gather mental strength before entering the conversation with this guy. I just leaned back a bit against the desk and watched.
Peggy and Daniel took a second to make significant eye contact, then sighed as one. Daniel turned to Jack, and Peggy subtly shifted closer to me.
"She's somebody who does a job like ours, but from the future," said Daniel. Jack just stared at him for a minute, then looked to me, and then back at Daniel.
"Sousa, despite what you might think, I'm not stupid."
"Jack, I get that it's hard to believe, but if you actually listen for two seconds-"
Jack huffed and crossed his arms while Daniel kept talking. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Peggy leaning in towards me, and I blocked out the boys' argument as she whispered to me.
"Y/N, I have a favor to ask of you."
"Hit me," I whispered back. Peggy sighed.
"Jack has recently had a moral epiphany," she started. I took half a second to give her a curious glance, and she just rolled her eyes in response. "It's been mostly nice, both to have him on our side and to finally have him respecting me and Daniel and anyone that's not an older man already in power.
"That said, we don't have space for him on this mission. All he's going to do is be a nuisance, and he's far less likely to agree to being benched than you."
"And I take it you have a solution for this?"
"Yes. But it would require throwing you under the bus to keep him occupied tonight."
I paused for a second, giving Jack another good look. He and Sousa were still in the middle of a heated argument while Sousa tried to convince him I was actually a time traveler, and even though they both seemed exasperated, Jack also seemed to be enjoying the back and forth. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
"Peggy Carter, it would be an absolute honor to assist you on a mission," I said, turning to her with a smile. "Even if it means spending the evening learning about the forties from a slightly questionable teacher."
"You're a lifesaver," she said, giving me a smile back. She pushed off the desk, moving towards Daniel and Jack to interrupt them but shooting me a wink first. "And don't worry, I'll give you an actual introduction to the decade after this mission is over."
I nodded, then Peggy got Jack and Daniel's attention to put their argument to rest and explain the situation. Jack raised an eyebrow when Peggy told him his job would be keeping me company, but she phrased it well enough that it didn't quite sound like babysitting for either of us. Finally, he agreed, and Peggy and Daniel headed out for their event, leaving me and Jack Thompson alone in the bullpen of the LA SSR.
He stood by the windows, staring out at the traffic below as I spun around in a swivel chair. I kept looking at him, but he didn't look over at me once, at least not that I could catch. Finally, after a few more rotations, I huffed a sigh and pushed myself up. I put my hands on my hips, but Jack still didn't look over.
"Alright, I'm bored out of my mind, which should not be a possibility less than three hours after I suddenly appeared in a different time period," I said. Jack finally looked over at me, raising an unimpressed eyebrow as he did. I continued. "You're supposed to be helping me adjust to this place, since I don't know how long I'm gonna be here. Believe it or not, it didn't take me that long to adjust to this office."
He sighed heavily, but stepped away from the window anyway, stopping a few feet in front of me with his arms across his chest. He stared at me for a few seconds without saying anything, and I just stared right back. I crossed my arms to mirror him and he snorted and rolled his eyes.
"You're really from the future?" he finally asked.
"Did the twenty minutes Peggy and Daniel spent convincing you not settle this matter?"
He grunted, then finally dropped his arms back to his sides.
"Fine. What do you want to do then?"
I grinned. "Any good places to grab a drink and a dance around here?”
****************
"This is only my first week in LA, so if this place ends up being terrible, it's the city's fault and not mine," said Jack as we stepped out of the cab together. I'd taken a second to find a dress to steal from Peggy's emergency disguise stash at the SSR, since my 21st century mission clothes would probably cause a riot if I went out in them, and then Jack and I had jumped in a cab to a spot in town he'd heard about.
"Boooo," I teased as he paid the driver and we headed in together. "You can't consider the possibility of the night being a failure before it's even started! It's a jinx."
"A jinx?"
"Yeah, you know. Like bad luck."
"I know the definition of the word jinx," he scoffed. "I just think it's ridiculous you believe in them."
"Oh, yeah, of course. Actually, I didn't want to tell Peggy and Daniel this, but in the future we've discovered that a lot of things people dismissed as superstitions or bad luck are actually true. Like jinxes. Oh, and breaking a mirror? That actually will mess you up! We didn't realize it until science advanced a little further, I think in the seventies, but it's true."
Jack stared at me for a few seconds, and I stared back with a perfectly neutral expression on my face. Then, he broke into a grin and nudged me with his shoulder.
"You're messing with me."
"I definitely am."
He scoffed and shook his head, but the smile didn't drop off his face. He sighed dramatically, looking up at the club in front of us, then held out his arm for me to take.
"C'mon. You're the one who wanted to experience the time period."
I smiled up at him, then looped my arm through his. He pulled me a little closer, and I'd be lying if I said my heart didn't speed up a bit as we walked into the club together.
Immediately I got hit with the music I associated with the swinging jazz of the 1940s as we stepped into a world of men in suits and women in old-style dresses, all twirling across the dancefloor together.
"Whoa," I breathed. Suddenly, it started to sink in that I was actually in the 1940s, more than 80 years from everything and everyone I knew. A new surge of sympathy for Steve welled up in my chest.
"You alright?" asked Jack, nudging me a little as we stood in the doorway. I took a deep breath in and out, then slowly nodded. "Okay, good. Let's go get a drink.”
I huffed a laugh as he pulled me through the crowd and towards the bar. We managed to find two stools, and Jack pulled my seat out for me before I sat down. I couldn't help giving him a slightly bemused look, which he grunted about as he took the seat next to me.
"What?" he asked.
"Nothing," I said, waving him off. "Just, you know... forties."
He turned to stare at me, his eyebrows knit together, but the bartender appeared before he could question what I was talking about.
"What can I get the two of you?" asked the bartender. Jack turned to me, letting me go first.
"I'll have an old fashioned, please."
Both he and Jack looked at me for a second, but I looked right back at both of them like they were crazy for questioning it (because they were). After a second, Jack shrugged and turned back to the bartender.
"I'll do the same."
The bartender nodded, then moved away to make the drinks. I turned and gave Jack a smile.
"Thanks for buying," I said. "I didn't have my wallet on me when I got sucked back in time, and even if I did, I don't think the bartender would be able to accept the kind of bills I carry. I'm not trying to get arrested for counterfeiting a few hours into being in the past."
Jack chuckled. "Sure thing. So, an old fashion, huh?"
"Yeah. It's Ton- uh, it's my friend's favorite drink. He got me drinking them, too."
"Hm. Future sounds like a wild place."
"Honestly, I'd say 1940 is a little wilder."
The bartender set down our drinks, and Jack put a few bills on the table. Then, once he was out of earshot again, I turned to Jack with a smile.
"Cheers," I said, raising my glass in toast. "To new experiences and getting to know each other and this weird ass trip back to the past."
Jack smiled, although I could tell he was fighting it, and clinked his glass with mine before we both took a sip.
"So, Jack Thompson... tell me about the forties."
Jack and I spent the next hour talking about everything from foods that hadn't been invented yet (ranch dressing!) to the weird, national popularity of baseball and how I couldn't wait to see people start getting the memo about the NBA. Some of it was informative, even helpful, but for the most part we just... talked. Laughed. Joked around and enjoyed each other's company like people who'd known each other much longer than a few hours.
For some reason, it just felt easy. Going into this, heading out with someone who was clearly a confident, if not arrogant, man from the 1940s, with Peggy's warnings on top of everything else? Well, let's just say I didn't have the highest of hopes. But by some miracle, whether it was our equally loud and teasing personalities or that fact that I proudly didn't know anything about baseball beyond the fact that games took way too long, rather than the ignorance or indifference he had been expecting... Jack Thompson and I got on like wildfire.
"I'm just saying, when you're watching a legend play, that's the only part of the game that matters!" Jack continued, defending his baseball stance. "And DiMaggio's a legend."
"Yeah, no shit," I scoffed, rolling my eyes to go with it. Jack snorted at my language, but I caught him grinning at me all the same as he took a sip from his drink. "But, unlike in other sports, your legend's only playing for like fifteen minutes out of every hour. Still boring!"
Jack opened his mouth, clearly ready with some other comeback that would do absolutely nothing to change my position, but before he could, the band started up with something I actually recognized.
"Oh my God!" I cried, setting down the now-empty glass that previously held my second old fashioned. "This song- we have to go dance!"
"You know this song?" asked Jack, only looking slightly bemused as he set down his glass and I dragged him towards the dance floor.
"Yeah. Steve plays it all. The damned. Time," I said, finally coming to a stop in the middle of the floor. I moved to drop Jack's hand now that I'd gotten him out here, but he just squeezed it tighter and pulled me closer. "It's one of the only songs from the forties he plays that I can actually stand."
Jack scoffed, wrapping an arm around my waist as we started twirling across the floor together. "You're actually friends with him? Sousa wasn't making that whole thing up?"
"What? No. Actually, I'm the one that helped him adjust to the future not long after he woke up in my time."
Jack nodded, looking thoughtful. "So that's why you recognized Carter? Sousa said you almost fainted from excitement when you first saw her."
"No. I mean, sort of, I guess. But I would've known her even without Steve. She's only the coolest, most badass woman and intelligence pioneer the world has ever known," I said. Jack snorted, and I scowled. "What? You disagree?"
He shrugged. "I mean, I'd probably argue there are some other intelligence pioneers that deserve mention. But... I guess no, I don't necessarily disagree. Just don't mention it to her, alright? I'll deny it, and I don't need her immortalization from a time traveler being thrown in my face every time I work a case with her for the rest of time."
I laughed, and Jack gave me a knowing smile before spinning me out and away from him. He twirled me across the floor before pulling me back to him quickly. We moved in perfect harmony, picking up our pace to match the band and putting the other couples to shame. We quickly got lost in our own little world, to the point that everyone and everything except the music disappeared. When Jack sped up, I sped up a little more, and we easily met each other's challenges, stupid smiles on our faces the whole time.
When a slower song started playing, Jack and I finally relaxed the pace, forgoing the elaborate dance moves to just sway in place and catch our breaths for a minute. I was still a little lost in our moment, enough so that I didn't notice someone else approaching us until he shoved himself part way between me and Jack.
"Hey doll. Mind if I cut in?" The guy leered over me, totally ignoring Jack as he reached for my hand without waiting for my answer. I scoffed, my tired-but-happy smile instantly turning into a scowl. Jack seemed equally frustrated and moved as if he was about to step in and do something about it, but I decided to just take care of it for the both of us.
"Actually, yeah, I do mind," I snapped, fixing the guy with an unimpressed look as I snatched my hand out of his reach. He seemed incredibly surprised by my response, but I plowed ahead anyway. "I'm dancing with someone already, and even if I weren't, I have no interest at all in dancing with you. So... scram. Or beat it. Or whatever people say now."
The man just stood there for a second, open-mouthed, blinking at me in stunned silence. Then, his expression shifted into a scowl and his face started to turn red.
"I- You- How dare you-!"
"Dude, get lost," I said, crossing my arms and staring him down as I talked over him. I glanced over his shoulder to Jack, who also looked shocked but in a pleasantly surprised way, and addressed him. "What's another good way to tell someone to go away?"
He shrugged, a delighted smile growing on his face. "Take a powder?"
"Really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. Jack just nodded, so I looked back at the rude guy. "Alright, take a powder. Hit the bricks. Take a long walk off a short pier. Other creative ways to say leave. I want to dance to this lovely song with my dance partner here, who is not you, so... yeah. Take the blatant instructions."
The man whirled around to Jack, like he expected him to say or do something to reign me in. Jack just shrugged again.
"You heard the lady. I'm not gonna tell you anything she didn't already say."
The man scowled, whipping back to look at me again. I just met him with crossed arms and a look that told him I wouldn't be budging an inch. He spluttered a few more incoherent words in indignation, then stormed off the dance floor and out of sight. I sighed, then faced Jack again.
"How wildly out of place was that for the time period? Both him and me?" I asked. Jack grinned.
"Him? Not very. You? Insanely," he said, taking my hand again as we went back to gently swaying in place. He tugged me a little closer to his chest, and I smiled. "I gotta say though, I sure enjoyed watching it."
"Good. Because I don't actually care at all, and I had a lot of fun doing that."
Jack laughed, throwing his head back before fixing me with a brilliant smile. He twirled me out and away from him again, then pulled me right back into his chest. We swayed together, closer than we'd been all night, and to my surprise I started noticing more than a few butterflies squirming in my chest as I stared up at the SSR Chief. Hm, noted the more logical side of my brain as we moved across the crowded dance floor. Nice, my heart replied as Jack's strong hand laid firmly on my waist and my hand traveled to the collar of his shirt.
Jack and I spent the rest of the night at the club, enjoying the music, the dancing, and each other's company until the place turned on the lights and threw us out. A few times, other men came up to hit on me and "steal me away" from Jack. Each time, I dressed them down and sent them on their way, and each time Jack just grinned and watched me do it. I could still tell he was ready to jump in, that his instinct was to take care of it for me, but he seemed to enjoy watching the jerks splutter and babble in shock and surprise as much as I did.
Afterwards, when we wandered back out onto the LA street together, Jack insisted on escorting me back to Howard Stark's place, where I'd be staying with Peggy. It was going to be incredibly weird staying at Tony's dad's house, meeting him and the real-human Jarvis, but I could process that later. Right now, I wanted to focus on the amazing, less-weird parts of being in the 40s. Specifically Jack Thompson, who I'd just spent a wonderful night enjoying this new time period with.
Jack hailed us a cab, and I rested my head on his shoulder and watched the city go by as the taxi took us out of the city, to the massive Stark mansion. It was basically a 40s version of Tony's Malibu house, and a pang of sadness tightened in my chest when I realized I had no idea when–or if–I would see my friends again.
I took a deep breath and shook those thoughts out of my head as the car came to a stop. All of that was a problem for later, not now. Jack got out first, holding the door for me and offering a hand to help me out, which I took. Rather than dropping it once I stood, he wrapped it around his arm as he asked the cabbie to wait and escorted me towards the house. We stopped on the porch and turned to face each other, and I realized I actually really didn't want the night to end.
"Thanks for showing me around the forties," I said, giving Jack a small smile. "It was actually really fun."
"You don't have to sound so surprised," he griped, but a smile made its way onto his face all the same. "So... I don't know how long you're gonna be here, and obviously we've got a lot of other work to do with Carter and Sousa tomorrow, but... maybe I could take you out again sometime. There's still a lot of forties you haven't seen yet."
"I'd like that," I said, a warm feeling welling up in my chest. I hesitated a second as Jack and I stared at each other on the doorstep, then decided to say fuck it and keep doing what I'd been doing all night: following my impulses. "Quick question: in the forties, if I kiss you on the first date, is that going to scare you off or something?"
Jack grinned. "It might get a raised eyebrow from the cabbie, but I sure as shit won't be complaining."
"Good."
With that, I grabbed Jack's lapels and tugged him towards me, leaning up just a bit and giving him a kiss. It was short, really just a quick peck since we'd just met, but fireworks exploded in my chest at the sensation anyway.
Jack's grin stayed in place as we pulled apart, and his hand lingered on my waist an extra second before dropping to his side. He took a step backwards, towards the waiting car, even as his eyes stayed on mine. I rested my hand on the doorknob, watching Jack and trying to stay in the moment even as he walked away.
"Welcome to the forties, sweetheart," he called as he made it down the porch steps and into the driveway. "I'll see you at work tomorrow."
I waved, a smile on my own face to match his. "Can't wait."
Jack gave a short wave and one last grin before getting into the cab. I watched as he drove away, a smile still on my own face even after I knew he couldn't see it. Finally, after the lights of the cab faded back into the LA night, I turned on my heel and walked into the house.
I'd been in the 40s for less than twelve hours, and I knew for a fact that I hadn't even scratched the tip of the iceberg on exploring the time period, or what frustrations being eighty years removed from everything I knew would bring. But, despite all that, I'd had a blast tonight, and tomorrow I'd get to start working with THE Peggy Carter. Whether I was only here for another few hours or it turned into months or longer, I couldn't help being excited at the idea of everything that was yet to come for me, not least of all my next date with Jack Thompson.
#marvel#agent carter#jack thompson#jack thompson x reader#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagine#marvel one shot#agent carter fanfiction#agent carter oneshot#agent carter imagine#jack thompson imagine#jack thompson oneshot#jack thompson fanfiction#1940s#peggy carter#daniel sousa#howard stark#steve rogers#time travel#ssr
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