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kaznejis · 11 months

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Public affair- Bucky Barnes x Reader

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

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

Enjoy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N-”

“Oh my Goodness!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Did he … say anything when he agreed?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, yeah. I’m-”

“Y/N, be honest with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure… of course.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NEW COUPLE ALERT

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

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

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

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

“It’s real, Wanda.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bucky consented to this?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were wrong, so wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like?”

“Just follow my lead.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“Why not?!”

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

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

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

A Love Triangle Arises?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No fake relationship could ever replicate that feeling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s when your eyes landed on him.

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

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

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

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

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

Not appropriate right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t under-”

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

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

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

Part 2- ‘Public Display’

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

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reasonsforhope · 10 months

Note

do you have any good queer news? I'm a queer person and hearing all the shit thats happening across the world is making me bummed out

I do! All of this is from LGBTQ Nation's excellent good news tag

^Article date: July 6, 2023

"Only two months after its formation, the “No SB 180” initiative had succeeded at making the city of Lawrence, Kansas a sanctuary city for LGBTQ+ people. Last week, in a unanimous vote, Lawrence became the first city in the state to declare itself as such.

Ordinance 9999 bans the city and all of its employees from collecting or releasing information on a person’s “biological sex, either male or female, at birth” and from helping with any investigation, detention, arrest, or surveillance “conducted by a jurisdiction with the authority to enforce Senate Bill 180, as enacted.”"

^Article date: July 28, 2023

"A federal judge has told a group of anti-trans parents to mind their own business after the group filed a lawsuit challenging an Ohio school district’s bathroom policy.

The attempts to meddle do not “pass legal muster,” he wrote in his ruling, saying that the group has no reason to sue.

“Not every contentious debate concerning matters of public importance presents a cognizable federal lawsuit,” Judge Michael Newman wrote, denying their petition to stop the Bethel Local School District’s policy that allows a single transgender middle school student to use the restroom that aligns with her gender identity."

^Article date: August 8, 2023

"The U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), the independent federal agency responsible for administering civilian foreign aid and development assistance, has released its first-ever “LGBTQI+-inclusive” policy since its founding in 1961.

The four-point policy is meant to serve as a blueprint for USAID staff and partners around the world to champion LGBTQ+ and intersex development and the human rights of all queer people through the agency’s work, said Jay Gilliam, USAID’s senior LGBTQI+ coordinator, in a video explaining the policy...

In simpler terms, the U.S. will try to improve diplomatic relationships with other countries by investing in locally-led LGBTQ+-inclusive programs that are shown to positively impact communities in need."

^Article date: August 3, 2023

The U.S. Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit has ruled in favor of three transgender students who were forbidden by their schools from using bathrooms matching their gender identities. The circuit court upheld a lower court’s preliminary injunction that said the schools have to let trans students use facilities associated with their genders...

The case involves three trans boys in Martinsville, Indiana and Terre Haute, Indiana, who need access to the boys’ room at their middle and high schools...

The court took into account the fact that Title IX bans discrimination on the basis of sex in schools that receive federal money, which is most of them. Citing the 2020 Supreme Court decision in Bostock v. Clayton Co. that found that job discrimination against LGBTQ+ people necessarily takes sex into account and is therefore prohibited under Title VII, the appeals court ruled that the trans boys are likely to succeed in their case and that preventing them from using the correct bathroom while the case works its way through the court system could cause irreparable harm.

^Article date: August 2, 2023

^Article date: June 21, 2023

"A federal judge has ruled on the side of trans rights after a conservative group tried to overturn an Ohio school district’s anti-bullying policy.

The national conservative group Parents Defending Education (PDE) tried to get a preliminary injunction passed on the Olentangy Local School District’s prohibition on misgendering trans students. The policy includes students, teachers, and parents and it applies to out-of-school hours and social media as well."

^Article date: August 2, 2023

There's literally a bunch more I wanted to include, by the way! Tumblr just stopped being able to load them. Going back to add a few more in the reblogs now.

I know it feels like everything is against us right now. But I promise you: that is not true. The bigots and bastards may usually be the ones moving faster (in large part because they suck and don't care about democracy or due process at all),

But in the end, we are going to win. I promise.

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drabblesandimagines · 1 month

Text

Trunk

Leon Kennedy x female reader (BSAA) for this request Fluffy, bit of mild spice, bit of blood, mention of panic attack, swears

It was meant to be straightforward surveillance ahead of the main op. Monitor the drop – the metal suitcase fitted with a tracking chip and three fake virus vials – note any observations about the pick-up, then inform the rest of the Wolf Hound Squad who would track the co-ordinates to find the terrorists’ base of operations.

You had pouted a little at being sidelined from the main action, but Chris needed someone stealthy to keep an eye over the drop and, with a squeeze to your shoulder, your track record meant you were the prime candidate.

You’d set yourself up in the eaves of the abandoned warehouse that served as the drop-off point, armed with a pair of binoculars, an ear piece and a couple of guns, as always, for if anything went south...

..which it did the moment you detected movement from the south-east corner. It took a few attempts to get them in focus, but your heart sank when you recognized the figure – one Leon S Kennedy of the DSO rolling between abandoned shipping containers, honing in on the one you’d placed the metal suitcase in a few hours previously.

What the hell is he doing here?

You press down on your earpiece and it beeps once, opening the line to transmit. “Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Silence.

“Alpha to Lupe. Got a problem. Over.”

Nothing – again. Maybe your current position has poor signal, but there’s no time to troubleshoot when squealing tyres echo around the structure, alerting you to the two black cars swerving in and heading to the shipping container in question.

The cars stop, their engines remaining idle and five well-built and well-dressed men depart – three from one, two from another.

Through your binoculars, you see Leon head straight for them, gun raised.

Shit.

You are jolted back into consciousness when your crown smacks on something hard, before being ricocheted back down to your nose cracking against something firm, groaning as you come to.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?”

The voice is familiar and rumbles through your chest with the horrible realization that you’re lying on top of someone. You try and scoot back, whacking your head again and a sinking feeling as you feel plastic digging into your wrists, keeping them bound behind you.

It all comes flooding back.

Numerous gunshots go off as you slide down the ladder back to the ground floor, half expecting to find Leon bleeding out or even dead on the concrete. Instead, he’s being heaved up by his armpits, unconscious, and pushed into the trunk of one of the cars, half in, half out as one of the heavy-set men commences a search, confiscating a multitude of weapons with a scoff.

You can’t see any other bodies, which is strange. Is Kennedy getting slow in his old age?

At the other car, a man with a blonde pony-tail is bent down, talking through the window to someone you can’t see. “Go on ahead with the package.”

The driver seems to protest, but ponytail shakes his head.

“We’ll take the rat elsewhere, have some fun… We’ll join you back at base after. Go.” He thumps the top of the car with his fist to emphasize his point.

The idling car now hits the gas with gusto, the tyres burning against the concrete before it skids out of sight.

The heavy-set man seems to have concluded his search of the unconscious agent by then, finishing with what looks to be Leon’s phone. He considers it for a moment before he drops it to the floor and grinds it into the concrete with the heel of his shoe, the screen splintering and plastic cracking under his weight.

He then leans into the trunk before holding Leon’s arms behind his back and securing his wrists with what looks like a zip tie, before heaving up his legs and giving his ankles the same treatment.

You grit your teeth as you think – you don’t have much time. They’re not taking Leon to the HQ, so it’s not like you can catch up and let the rest of the squad know they’ve got a hostage.

The other car’s gone, one of the guys is distracted, if you just-

“Well, well…” There’s a gun pressed to the small of your back and your stomach sinks. You’d thought the two remaining were the ones you had in your eyesight, assuming three others had got back into the other car, but one seems to have been prowling. Fuck, you’re better than this usually. Are you and Kennedy both having an off day?

A thick forearm wraps around your throat in a headlock.

“Drop the gun.”

Before you can even think of how to get out of the hold, a knee is forced between your thighs, weakening your stance and preventing any sort of retaliation you might be able to achieve with your legs. The forearm tenses and cuts off all air, the order repeated and it is not until your grip on your gun goes limp, letting it drop to the floor that it relaxes, leaving you gasping for breath.

“We’ve already caught ourselves a rat this evening, suppose it makes sense we catch a mouse next.”

You try and throw your head back in desperation - if you break his nose he’ll definitely let go, but there’s not enough room and the arm around your throat squeezes again, but this time there is no relief, only a smug whisper in your ear.

“Sweet dreams, little mouse.”

Everything went black.

You squint in the dark of what you assume is the car trunk – an eerie red glow emitting from the corners which you presume are the taillights – and your eyes slowly begin to adjust to find two icy blue ones staring up at you under familiar bangs. “Leon?” Your voice is a little hoarse, but it’s better than being dead.

“One and only. Gotta say, this is a surprise. Been a while.”

You try and roll off his chest entirely but it’s awkward and cramped. The trunk is not large enough to be accommodating two adults, let alone one as muscular as Leon. You manage to shift most of your weight off him, though your legs are somewhat still entangled, ankles crisscrossed together with the same zip tie treatment. You cough, trying to relieve the tightness in your throat. “What are you doing here? This is a BSAA op.”

“DSO had intel of a terrorist cell being supplied with virus samples.” He tries to shuffle back a little, take in your face after you lying atop of him unconscious for however long.

“It’s a fake – it’s our drop.”

“What?”

“I was doing surveillance to confirm they accepted the suitcase with the tracker – the rest of the pack is gonna intercept their base once co-ordinates are confirmed.”

You see him raise his eyebrow in the dim light. “Pack? Redfield still going by that wolf crap?”

“Oh, because birds are so cool, right?” You retort, though you’re more annoyed at your situation than him.

“How’d they get you?”

“Does it matter?” You avoid the question, not wanting to tell him the real reason you’d got caught was because you’d been concerned seeing him being shoved into the trunk.

“We’ve gotta get out of these restraints. I can try and…” You trail off, your breath catching in your throat. You pull fruitlessly at the plastic holding your wrists, ignoring the sharp pain, and try and bring your knees up to your chest.

“Already tried, there’s not enough space.” Leon interjects. “Maybe if I was here solo…”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you mean to sound sarcastic, but with how you’re breathing it sounds more like a genuine apology. “I just thought it looked so fun when I saw you being kidnapped so I had to join in, you know?”

You’re breathing too heavy now, but it’s not getting down into your lungs. You’re not sure if it’s because your windpipe was crushed earlier, or that you’re on your side in an awkward position, or the fact that you’re stuffed in the trunk of a car with potentially limited oxygen.

Fuck.

“Hey.” Leon’s voice sounds foggy.

You shuffle as best you can, hoping a change in position might open up your airways, but it feels like as if the trunk is closing in around you.

“Hey. You good?”

“I…”

“You need to breathe deeper than that, okay?”

Deep down, in your logical mind, you know you do, but in the panic it’s just not happening, and your breaths grow only shallower. Your throat is too tight, the zip tie around your wrist and ankles is too tight, the space in here is too tight. Leon tenses his forearms behind his back for the umpteenth time, willing the plastic to break as he sees you falling further and further into distress. His words aren't getting through and he can't really touch you either, can't grab your hand or your shoulder and try and ground you for a moment to catch your breath. “I’m so sorry.” Leon throws his head forward and kisses you – not square on the lips, more at the corner of your open mouth, messy and awkward - but it’s enough to knock you out of hyperventilating as your scalp tingles.

“Breathe.” He orders, pulling back.

“You just-”

“Breathe. There’s plenty of oxygen in here – it’s not airtight. Breathe.”

You close your eyes and mouth and take a deep inhale through your nose, spluttering a little as you try to hold it. It takes a few cycles, Leon keeping silent as you gather your bearings, but eventually it steadies.

“Sorry.” You mumble, embarrassed.

“I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have kissed you, I just couldn’t think of how else to divert your focus.”

“No, it’s okay. Definitely worked.”

There’s an awkward silence before Leon shuffles ever so slightly.

“Promise you won’t tell Redfield? I’d rather not have my neck snapped.”

“Why would he do that?”

“You... You two aren’t a thing?”

“No.” Your brow furrows. “He’s my captain. My life’s already complicated enough fighting bioweapons without throwing in dating my superior.”

“Oh. I thought…” He shrugs as best as he can before you can see the infamous cocky grin. “Well, how about you and I grab dinner after this?”

“If there is an after this.” You try and swallow down the anxious feeling that’s crawling up from your stomach once more. “Being moved to a second location against your will is nev- Ugh!”

The car drives over a pothole but, thankfully, your head doesn’t collide with the top of the trunk. Leon groans as the impact threw him over onto his front before he mutters under his breath and starts to grind his hips.

“Holy shit.”

“What?”

“I think they missed a weapon.”

“Really?” Your voice perks up. “What?”

“A knife.”

“How’d they miss a knife?”

“Is that a complaint?” Leon scoffs.

“No, just seems a bit amateur hour. Can you reach it?”

“Not a chance, but, er…”, he clears his throat, “you might. We’re gonna have to try and adjust positions first, I’ll need your back to my chest.”

“Okay. Erm…” You scooch yourself forward with your hip and heel of your boot - easier said than done as the trunk grows narrower the further you go down, your knees bunching up towards your chest. “Like that?”

“Gimme a sec.” He responds through gritted teeth, trying to roll over again. Whatever make car this is, it’s not American – the trunk space is abysmal. Eventually, he manages it, shuffling himself forward until your fingers are pressed up against what feels like his chest.

“Hey!” He snaps with a poorly concealed laugh as your fingers twitch against the fabric. “That tickles.”

“Sorry – reflex. Where is it?”

“Well, put simply, my crotch.”

You give yourself a moment to let the words sink in.

“You keep a knife in your crotch? How have you not cut off your-?”

“It’s more a scalpel than a knife,” he cuts you off. “And it’s hidden away in the lining – in-built sheath – near the fly. Think you can find it?”

You close your eyes tight, thinking it might help you focus. Your thumb brushes up against something firm and you feel Leon tense behind you.

“Is that…?”

“My jockstrap, thank you.” He clears his throat again. “Higher than that and more to the left.”

You try to follow his instructions, but it’s impossible to go any higher, unable to bend your elbows. “I don’t think I can. Can you shuffle down any?”

“Er…” He tries, shifting down an inch or so, his knees pressing into the back of yours in a spoon, his breath tickling your ear as he settles back down. “There. Bit to the left again.”

You close your eyes again, feeling the zip with your thumb and head to the left until you feel what feels like a thin tube.

“That?”

“Yep. Now, just try and bring it up and out. The blade’s at the bottom.”

That’s easier said than done as you press your thumbs either side of it and feel it move ever so slightly up. It’s a slow and steady process, not helped with the fact of how sweaty your palms are now getting with Leon pressed right up against you. “I think it’s nearly there. If the blade’s at the bottom, can you shuffle back? I don’t wanna slice you open.”

“You got a good grip?”

You swear you can hear the grin in his voice with that one.

“As good as I ever will.”

He scoots back a little, not as far as possible, but enough room so you can pull the scalpel implement up and twirl it around carefully in your grip so you can start to saw against the zip-tie.

“Got it.”

“Does it feel like it’s working?”

“Yeah. Just kinda awkwa-" There’s a stinging pain in your palm as the knife slices through and you hiss.

“What?”

“Got my palm.”

“Bad?”

“Had worse.” You bite your lip at the pain then, eyes squeezed shut again, trying to visualize what might be going on behind your back. Your movements are miniscule, a concern that that if you went any faster you’d slip in your enthusiasm and stab Leon.

It feels like hours when you finally feel the tension give and your wrists are free of the horrid plastic.

“Got it. Just…” Mindful of your bleeding palm, you roll over with your good hand and lean up, pushing Leon face down so you can set to work on his wrists. It only takes a few confident saws, despite how slick your palm is with blood, before the agent groans and pulls his arms in front of him.

You pull your knees up to your chest and quickly slice through the restraints around your ankles, before handing the scalpel to Leon to do the same. His fingers pinch your other wrist instead, bringing your bleeding palm up close to his face to analyze in the dim light.

“Shit, that’s deep.”

“It’s fine,” you try and shake off his hold, but his grip remains firm.

“That’ll be the blood loss talking. Hold on.” He pulls up his shirt with his free hand and rips at the hem with his teeth, tearing off a rough strip, before he begins to wrap it around your palm in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

“There.” He announces, tying it off with a tight knot. “Not ideal, but it’ll have to do for now.”

“Thanks.” You cradle it back against your stomach and hand him over the blade so he can finally cut through the zip-tie around his ankles. It seems just in time too, as the car begins to slow.

“How do you want to play this?”

“You sit tight, I deal with whoever opens the trunk… then we go for dinner.”

“You know I am not a sit tight kinda gal, right?”

“We’ve only got one knife.”

“One scalpel.” You correct.

“Exactly.” The car stops.

“Roll over, face the back.” He orders, taking control. “I’ll go the other way – they won’t be able to see our hands. When they lean in to haul me out…”

The dulled sound of the car doors opening leaves you with no choice but to turn away as instructed and your hand brushes up against Leon’s as you tuck them back behind your back. With the hand that’s not holding the scalpel, he grabs hold of your uninjured hand and squeezes your fingers in reassurance.

The trunk opens.

Leon is peering through his lashes, bangs over his eyes, as his captor comes into view, gun raised. He nudges Leon’s shoulder with the barrel, watching the agent’s head lull back before holstering his weapon and preparing to heave Leon out of the trunk.

And that’s when he takes his chance, scalpel in hand, straight into the jugular, his other hand nabbing the gun out of the holster as he twists himself up and out of the trunk before the man can hit the ground.

Before you can get up to join him, he slams the trunk back down. You curse, hearing back and forth gunshots before the trunk opens again a few minutes later, Leon stood there with an apologetic smile.

“Coast is clear. We’re down at the docks – I can’t believe I let myself get caught by these amateurs.”

“Well, I can’t believe you shut the trunk on me!” You shuffle forward using your good hand, relieved to be sitting upright at last, legs dangling out from the trunk.

“I’m sorry - I know most guys bring their dates flowers,” he pulls another confiscated gun out of his back pocket – must be his prize from the other guy – and offers it out to you, “but something tells me you’d accept this instead?”

You take it with a smirk and a retort too good to pass up on. “You’re really gunning for this dinner date, huh, Kennedy?”

He leans forward and pushes you back into the trunk with a kiss.

This is so, so silly but I had fun x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy mild spice #death island leon #DI Leon Kennedy

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i-was-today-years-old-when · 10 months

Text

i learned about the strangest piece of evidence ever shown to a judge in a courtroom

In 1983, an unusual scene took place in court in Florida. Three female dancers were on trial. Undercover investigators had allegedly observed the women showing "too much" while working in a nightclub.

The charge was indecency.

The dancers had violated a county ordinance that prohibits nudity in places where food and drink are served. The women's attorney pointed out to the judge that the women's panties had been too large to reveal the body parts that the undercover police officers claimed to have seen.

So the lawyer asked that his clients be allowed to show the dance. The judge refused to allow a dance demonstration in chambers, fearing for his rather young career, but allowed a demonstration in court. He later said that he had not expected the women to follow through with this in court.

The court photographer's picture shows what happened that day in a Florida courtroom.

Two of the three women turned around in front of the judge and presented their rear ends to him. The judge then ruled that their panties were indeed of sufficient size. This unusual evidence exonerated the dancers.

#today i learned #facts #truth #history #news #court

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exercise-of-trust · 4 months

Text

seemingly cool fiber arts person i followed a little bit ago just put radfem shit on the dash, anyway the blanket statement that the only contributions of men to textile production are capitalist/exploitative and the only contributions of women are household-centric/victimized is patently untrue. while less of a documented presence, women in medieval europe [1] absolutely participated in weaver's guilds and commercial cloth production [2], and men have been participating in household knitting in all parts of europe for as long as knitting has been a thing there [3]. like i'm not trying to say women haven't been deeply excluded from economic opportunities in the textile trade for centuries but you cannot be making sweeping statements like that about everyone in every part of the world through all of history and expect them to be true. do, like, a basic level of research and have a basic understanding of nuance, i beg of you [4]

footnotes/sources/etc under the cut, sources are a bit basic because i just grabbed whatever was nearest to hand but they should suffice to prove my point:

[1] i'm only referring to western europe here because that's the only region i feel comfortable talking about in any detail without embarrassing myself. systems of medieval cloth production in european guilds are not gonna look anything like the systems of hundreds of servants employed to do textile production for a household in china. don't make categorical statements about everyone everywhere all at once, you will end up with egg on your face.

[2] quotes from "when did weaving become a male profession," ingvild øye, danish journal of archaeology, p.45 in particular.

england: "in norwich, a certain elizabeth baret was enrolled as freeman of the city in 1445/6 because she was a worsted weaver, and in 1511, a riot occurred when the weavers here complained that women were taking over their work" + "another ordinance from bristol [in 1461] forbade master weavers to engage wives, daughters, and maids who wove on their own looms as weavers but made an exception for wives already active before this act" germany: "in bremen, several professional male weavers are recorded in the early fourteenth century, but evidently alongside female weavers, who are documented even later, in 1440" -> the whole "even later" thing is because the original article is disputing the idea that men as weavers/clothiers in medieval europe entirely replaced women over time. also: "in 1432-36, a female weaver, mette weuersk, is referred to as a member of the gertrud's guild in flensburg, presently germany" scandanavia: "the guild of weavers that was established in copenhagen in 1500 also accepted female weavers as independent members and the rules were recorded in the guild's statutes"

[3] quotes from folk socks: the history and techniques of handknitted footwear by nancy bush, interweave press, 2011, don't roast me it was literally within arm's reach and i didn't feel like looking up more stuff

uk/yorkshire dales: "...handknitting had been a daily employment for three centuries [leading up to 1900]. practiced by women, children, and men, the craft added much to the economy of the dales people." (p.21) uk/wales: re the knitting night (noson weu/noswaith weu) as a social custom practiced in the 18th/19th c.: "all the ladies would work on their knitting; some of the men would knit garters" (p.22) uk/channel islands: "by the early seventeenth century, so many of the islands' men, women, and children had taken up the trade of knitting that laws were necessary to keep them from knitting during harvest" (p.24) -> this one is deeply funny to me, in addition to proving my point uk/aberdeen: "the knitters, known as shankers, were usually women, but sometimes included old men and boys" (p.26) denmark: "with iron and brass needles, they made stockings called stunthoser, stomper, or stockings without feet, as well as stockings with feet. the men knit the legs and the women and girls made the heels" (p.32) iceland & faroe islands: "people of all ages and both sexes knit at home not only for their own use but for exportation of their goods as well" (p.35)

[4] actually? no. i'm not begging for shit from radfems. fuck all'a'y'all.

#fuck it maintagging because i'm genuinely deeply annoyed about this #eta: un-maintagging bc after a couple days' reflection - i stand by the substance of what i said but i don't stand by my tone or attitude #shoot-from-the-hip reactionary anger is seldom effective and more to the point it's not a response of grace or love & i should do it less #aggressive linguistic prescriptivism #<- personal fiber arts category tag #<- that tag can stay tho i think this is an internal use only kinda post

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cryptotheism · 1 year

Note

Just remembered that the little sphere of catholicism, including private school, that I was raised in was basically an undeclared heresy you might be interested in. It flirted with Pelagianism and Justification-By-Works-Alone, and was also heavily influenced by liberation theology. Also was very sympathetic to conciliarism due to dislike of ban on female ordination.

BASED

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kit-williams · 4 months

Text

Glaubenskraft

The big Black Legion/Luna Wolf story. Because of the dark nature of this story aka the rape and other heavy themes like with other dark themed stories there is no use of you or I. There will be an OC that is going to be sent into the dark depths. I will say this with scensarity. When I write for 40k I do take advantage of the grimdarkness of the far future. You are all probably aware of this if you've read a lot of what I write. This is one of the fics I pushed to the limit. I'm also going to apologize for combat scenes I'm not very good at them.

tw: Rape (dead dove do not eat), Forced Pregnancy, some mind break, stockholm syndrome, Breeding and impregnation talk and kinks, clothed male unclothed female for one part, and please let me know if there is something I have missed

Zhur Painbane

Dolli Quest: purple eyes, prosthetic left leg, prosthetic left hand, scars on her arms, large aquilia tattoo on her back from shoulder to shoulder, red hair

Cadia would fall... it was inevitable really. The crusade would succeed but Zhur Painbane was simply here to cause terror within the Cadian trenches as they push hard. His furred cape was black and sooty still hanging together since the days he was a Luna Wolf... a faded wolf head holding the center red gem on his chest. His golden mask turned upward as the booming crack across the sky as the Maelstrom seemed to lash out against the Imperials.

They were trying to surround him. How cute. He thought as they shot at him with heavy munition.

"Dolli call artillery!" He heard someone shout. As his head whips to the soon to be dead Cadian shooting him in his head!

"Yes Sir!" She shouts as she forces Zhur to snarl and reel back slightly to avoid a shot in the eye lens. You're going to die slowly little rabbit. Though he might have fun with that one... he enjoys the shape of her face... the strong jaw and the vibrant amethyst eyes that practically glow. Zhur wants to see that face of hers look hopeless.

He began the quick slaughter as he watched her run down a section of the trench, hopping over holes and dead bodies. When she got far enough... he shot a few rounds and rushed after her.

Dolli got the radio warning of the Chaos Space Marine on her tail. She unloaded a few hand grenades feeling them blow up behind her and causing a chain reaction with unexploded ordinance behind her or grenades. Even the heat of that behind her kept her going as she knew he would be right there. She slid herself to the vox. "This is Vox Alfa 4 fire on our position. We have a Charlie Sierra Mike running through the trench. Emperor Protect our souls."

"Emperor Protects." Was all she got on the other end of the line.

The heavy and chunky thud of her rifle bought her a few seconds as he rushed down upon her. She pressed the barrel of her gun to his throat and pulled the trigger several times. His head jerking back as she barely missed his vocal cords and spinal cord. Snarling as those black and gold fingers dug into the blood filled mud as she overcharged her las and burned several holes into his arm. She kept him on his toes as he played with his food... Dolli knew he was playing with her... she just had to be enough fun.

Zhur heard the whistling and tackled her into the bunker nearby as the earth shaking rounds threw dirt into the air. He was snarling as he could feel his organs shutter. He ground his sharp teeth looking at the body under him. He wasn't a dedicated slannshi to fuck a warm corpse. His fingers cupped her chin as he looked at her, nose and ears bleeding from the explosions and most likely ruptured her organs.

He turned away and walked toward the entrance. She would have made a fine subject to his experiment... a refinement to Honsou's design. Honsou was onto something but he did it wrong... the human body is already capable of flushing out the rejects naturally. Zhur was on the cusp of success... just the last female he had went insane and had died outside of his control but she gave birth to what was essentially a space marine.

Dolli pulled out her knife as she looked at the space marine just standing there. She was going to die... she accepted this... but if she could be the reason this traitor dies she could be happy with it.

Zhur snarled as the knife buried itself into his side and he heard the mechanics of a priming grenade. His honey brown eyes flicked to his side seeing Dolli there with her hand on the knife and the grenade in her hand. She was making a reach to try and tangle herself against his armor.

Dolli doesn't know what happened exactly in that moment as she had stabbed him and was ready to meet the Emperor. The next moment the grenade was out of her hand and her breath was knocked out of her as she felt herself being cradled. Had a loyalist space marine come and saved her? No... it was still black and gold armor against her... NO... NO NO NO NO NO. Dolli began to thrash as nothing good ever came of being saved by a Black Legionary.

He snarled over his vox down at her as she realized her hand holding the grenade was gone and she didn't feel the way he just cut the metal off. "You little bitch. Thought you could get the drop on me?" He snarled as he began to rip the leather and thick cloth of her trousers, crushing the metal and the armor plates on them.

She kicks and tried to slam her prosthetic leg into him trying to get it to go beyond what it was suppose to do. She could hope it would decide to kick a hole in his chest but so far that wasn't happening. "Die in a hole you filthy traitorous scum!" She spits and snarls at him. Dolli had a dreaded feeling of what was going to happen she tries to grab her knife but he throws it away. Its a horror of the battlefield no one talks about... well when one of the enemy's entire perversion is sex... she remembers being warned as a little girl what could happen. She remembers how many of her friends couldn't stomach the idea... it wasn't guaranteed that it might happen... most likely you'd be blown apart but... the thought that you could be an unlucky victim. Dolli never thought it would be her.

Agent Quest?

"Behave!" Snarled Zhur as he grabbed her organic leg and threatened to snap it.

"No!" She screamed back as Zhur pressed his hand down on her stomach as he pushed himself between her legs and pulled his cock out. Zhur would play nicer after this... if she survived.

For Dolli she gritted her teeth as she could feel the cockhead pressing hard against her entrance. She couldn't even kill herself to save herself from this... either it would be a slow painful death via internal bleeding or she would be found later... discharged and always given pitied looks as if there was some sign around her neck that everyone could notice that she had been defiled by a traitorous and tainted space marine.

Zhur watches her face... he expects that fire to go out... to see that delicious helplessness... the begging and pleading for mercy where it wouldn't be found. Instead he found a fire... warp fire in her amethyst eyes. How she was still snarling at him... she looked like one of the corpse emperors living saints right now... the way her eyes glow with righteous anger... the paleness of her skin smeared with dirt and blood... how her hair is splayed out making a halo a dirty halo full of dirt, blood, sweat, and soot. Zhur snarls as he pushes into the unwilling cunt.

Tears prick the corner of her eyes as she could feel it all and the pained cry as he forced himself into her dry. She hissed with pain as he bobbed his hips working each painful inch deeper into her sex.

Mattis go get the others she's having an episode.

Mom?

Mattis go!

Mum please... wake up.

Zhur felt himself bottom out and moaned. He let her cunt spaz about him as blood, his pre cum, her piss, and her own forced arousal helped get him this far. He leaned his head back and savored the feeling of her around him. She glared up at him with wet eyes still looking like a fallen saint. Zhur was hardly a word bearer but perhaps he had found someone who was chosen by the corpse... he grins at the thought of stealing her away from him.

"Oh I think I'm going to do more than just fuck you till I feel better... there will still be that." He moved his hand to her throat as he had to be gentle given he was still fully armored as she was at an awkward angle. "I'm still mad at you little mortal... I didn't appreciate the headshots and nearly taking out an eye." He chuckled as she replied with a snarl.

"You are going to be part of something much more than yourself."

"Fuck you! The Emperor protects me and I will never join Chaos!" She screamed causing him to laugh.

"Silly mortal. I'm currently fucking you and who says I need you to join. Oh what will be happening to you... please do pray. Pray to him and let him see what will happen to you." He purred as he was kind enough to let her adjust to him as he enjoyed the feeling between her thighs.

Dolli refused to scream... refused to cry as she just glared up at the grunting marine above her. She tried to focus on the distant gun shots and explosions instead of the lurid wet squelches that was starting to happen. The wet fapping noise as she felt herself become aroused. Remembering the woman from that class explain that it could happen... its nothing about want... sometimes the body is like a machine and when something goes in there it reacts like how it is suppose to.

For Zhur he was panting and grunting and growling above her jerking her hips to his over and over again...

What's going on?

Mum is having an episode.

Mama's done so well... what triggered it?

I don't know Zekyr!

Calm down Naxos.

... it felt like heaven between her thighs. Oh yes he was going to keep her. Zhur felt so warm inside of his armor as he started to jerk her hips faster. Oh yes he was bringing her back. Zhur groaned as he pulled her tightly against him and spilled inside of her.

For Dolli she didn't know what to expect next... she couldn't stop her thrashing as he grabbed her head and slammed it down. Making everything go dark.

However there was no throne to greet her in the dark. Just a whisper... I'm sorry. The weight of those words sat like a stone in her stomach as she knew she was still alive. Her eyes opened for brief moments... all she could see was black and gold... profane shapes that hurt her eyes... twisted individuals draped in skin... someone touching her face and grabbing at her aquilia before she saw them turn to red paste as the space marine holding her snarled something in a foul tongue.

Dolli felt sore... there was a throbbing in her face... the throbbing between her legs... she wasn't on a shitty medical cot. Dolli was on a soft bed... she opened her eyes she was naked save for her aquilia... her leg prosthetic was missing as was the reminder of her forearm prosthetic. She had been cleaned and that feeling made her feel sick as she had an idea who... seeing hickies blooming on her thigh and one of her breasts.

"Ah welcome back." A clear voice purred to her. Honey brown eyes looked at her from a face that seemed to have some 5 o'clock shadow growing in with short neat black hair shaved to a military standard. His canines were long and so was his tongue but he was dressed in a black compression shirt and some shorts. Dolli was confused... she would have mistaken him for an Ultramarine or even a Blood Angel if it was not for the star of chaos on the door. "So Dolli, that is your name if I remember right. I'm going to tell you what is going to happen."

She looked at him unimpressed, "I assume rape me again and twist me to Chaos?" She said before spitting at him.

Zhur liked his little wife clean. Her hair was a deep red that looked better clean... oh he was eager to see it long and see it pool under her head like a blood pool. "Oh perhaps if you continue to resist it will be rape. But no... in fact I want you to try to resist... I want you to cling to the Emperor as long as you can as I think I like your fire. But no... you're going to help me make more space marines." He said running his tongue over his teeth looking at her on his bed.

Zhur quickly realized when he became a Luna wolf all those years ago that he felt a deep longing for something... he should have been like his brother... having a wife on his hip to come home to... he wanted that. He didn't know why he did and perhaps if everything had succeeded and the Astartes were no longer needed he would have settled down, probably several times given his life span, and had his own wife on his hip. He couldn't explain the deep covetous need it bloomed into and seeing Dolli clean and laying on his bed once again triggered that need.

Lucky for him... she would be the first test of what was his final plan for an improved demoncubula. Though less demons involved and a lot more dark mechanicus involvement and flesh shaping psykers. "No snide comment on that?" Zhur says tilting his head to the side before continuing, "You see I realized that getting pregnant was hard as was staying pregnant... the human body is very good at detecting genetic defects and reabsorbs the fetus'... oh look at me explaining your biology to you." He coos softly as he walks closer, "You are going to be my little wife. " He grabs her chin as she looks at him with wide eyes, "And we're going to make a happy little family."

"You're insane." She hisses softly.

"Perhaps but that is what happens when you want something so badly you are forced to make it yourself. Your womb will be modified and you will be given an organ called a progenoid that will feed into your modified womb. You will give birth to Astartes whom all they need to do is grow up and get the remainder of their organs with no fear of rejection. You," He cups her face, "Will be my reward."

"What."

"Oh yes I already proved that it worked. But I want to make sure it works for multiple babies..." He crawls on the bed and watches her try to crawl away but he holds her in place, "You will also be modified in a few ways to handle my... hmmm tender affections?" He chuckles softly at his own joke. "A wife must be able to handle her husband isn't that right my little wife?" He groans and Dolli watches as he gets hard.

She pushes against his head but he runs his tongue along the valley of her breasts as he grinds against her, "Oh my little wife I shouldn't... you'll be having surgery soon enough... but I'm so excited." Dolli scratches at him as he pushes his ring finger inside of her this time to try and work her. "See darling I can be nice I'll make you feel good." He pants with perverse pleasure, "You'll make such a good mommy for our boys. Won't you? Yes... say yes... you'll be such a good-"

"Mommy?" Dolli finally blinks as she looks up at pair of bright purple eyes, belonging to her eldest Thallos. She looks around seeing three other concerned looking pairs.

"B-boys. What." She looks down at the railing she is holding onto with a white knuckle grip.

"You were thinking about Da- um Zhur again weren't you?" Thallos says.

"You can still call him Daddy, Da, Dada, Dad, or Father if you want I know you all still hold affection for him." She says with a sigh as they look guilty at that fact. They look like a mashup between Horus and their father with a few features from her. She was happy they all had her eyes... "Boys don't feel guilty for what your father did." She no longer flinches when calling him that... she hardly realizes she calls Zhur their father.

Dolli Quest was now an inquisition member along with her four boys... Thallos Quest, Naxos Quest, Zekyr Quest, and Mattis Quest. They were an unidentified 4 man astartes group that just would affectionately refer to their inquisition liaison as mother sometimes. That was the cover the Inquisitor gave her... she couldn't help herself as they were her boys. Zhur gave her four little angels that she loved so much... they were a happy little family.

Dolli knew something in her broke during her time with Zhur... she never fell to chaos even during what eventually turned out to be century with him. But, she was the one who wanted Mattis... she seduced him to give her one more little boy. She was scared that they would have to leave Mattis behind given how close he was to his father when Thallos wanted to help her escape.

She pulled Thallos close before opening her other arm and feeling her boys get close. "I love you four so much... don't ever think I don't... I love you all from the tops of your heads to the bottom of your toes... to the sky above... and the earth below... to the stars beyond... and forever and ever after." She whispered to them kissing their cheeks or foreheads as she let tears fall. Dolli broke... because she couldn't find it in her heart to hate Zhur anymore.

However, she wouldn't go back... she was a loyal Imperial citizen! She wiped her face and straightened up, "Alright boys we've got a mission!"

------

Mattis was a good boy... all of his sons were good boys in his eyes. But Mattis could not keep anything hidden from his father. It is how he learned about Thallos' plan to steal his mother away. Only reason Zhur allowed it and in fact helped it succeed was because he was going on a long deployment and had a feeling someone was going to try to kill his precious little wife. The last kiss he gave her still warmed his lips... the uncertainty in her eyes... nearly giving up the ghost herself it would seem.

Zhur smiled as he watched on the screen as he could see his Dolli! She walked with her retinue and their sons. Zhur keeps telling himself that he allowed this... he allowed all of this... but really the separation was killing him now. He wanted his boys back... he wanted his wife back. He inhales hard and calms his eager voice as he connects to the private family vox channel and purrs out, "Daddy's home"

Thallos: Mommy

Naxos: Mum

Zekyr: Mama

Mattis: Mom

#tw: rape #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: forced breeding #tw: forced pregnancy #dead dove do not eat #warhammer 40k #tw: yandere #Yandere #Yandere Space Marine #Space Marine #Yandere Black Legion #Black Legion #stockhom syndrome #smut #tw: smut

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naisilla · 5 months

Text

The Emperor's New Muse Part .1

Odyssey Kayn x Reader

content: female reader, non-con, forced blowjob, forced doggy style.

Thunderous marching reverberated through the ship's interior as the sling troopers advanced. In their grasp, you struggled, digging your heels in, violently thrashing. With gritted teeth, you lashed out at the two soldiers who gripped your upper arms like a vice.

Your voice snapped at your captors as you hissed out threats, graphic descriptions of what you promised to make of them ejected from your lips. They cut you off abruptly by throwing your body to the floor. More cusses came from you after your face collided with the hard floor when your eyes snapped to the pair of boots ahead of you.

Looking up your eyes met with a single cold blue stare as his left eye was concealed with a golden eye patch that branched across the sharp features of his face. Immediately you recognize who this imposing man is. The blue hair cut into an edgy mohawk and the golden robotic arm that always gripped that mysterious glowing scythe. The Supreme Ordinal Kayn.

Any shock that you expressed vanished as your lip curled in a snarl, but before a creative insult could come out, the ordinal's boot came down onto your head, pressing it firmly as a warning. The troopers are watching this snicker. "That rebel has quite the silver tongue," one of them comments, making you growl in response, the chucking escalates.

The pressured weight on your head shifts as the ordinal kneels before you, grabbing your face and roughly turning it to look at him. A deep ''hmm" vibrates in his throat as he inspects you closely. His single blue-eye flicks up addressing his sling troopers. "A Rebel you say?"

One of the troopers pipe up "This one was caught trying to tamper with our fleet ships at the last dock."

"Yeh, little shit crawled into the system and sliced up the engine room," says another one. Kayn looks at you with a raised brow.

"You're a mechanic? You understand the elite design of our locus armada fleet ships?" You scoff and roll your eyes.

"I don't, I was just blasting everything until it turned off" Kayn's face scrunched in annoyance.

"I see" he drops your head and straightens himself to his feet, walking past the troopers. "Lock her up, I can't be bothered wasting my time on petty nuisances" He turns his back to you and continues walking off indifferently to your presence.

A hot flush boils within you, and your teeth and wrists clench simultaneously. How dare you be written off as a pest by this bastard! You were his sworn enemy, THE enemy of the Demaxian empire. They may not know who you are but you know them. They had taken your home planet from your people and had drained it of all its ora leaving a lifeless uninhabitable system behind in their greedy pursuit.

You remember the day when the serene sky darkened with the looming shadows of a fleet. When the Demaxians landed an instant struggle ensued as the village you lived in was raided and ravaged by troops. Anyone who resisted was executed immediately and those who remained were either left behind on the dying planet or taken in by force. You never saw your family again, which filled you with bitter hatred towards King Jarvan IV and his empire.

In retaliation, you dedicated your life to vengeance. You had joined a growing rebel group becoming a menace to the empire. You would sneak into capital cities to graffiti the suburbs and protest loudly in the streets. Unfortunately, it seemed that the people of the capitol didn't care much for the opinion of a lower-class citizen. They didn't have to suffer having their planet overthrown by the empire, they lived comfortably in their wealthy establishments and benefitted from having their cities powered by the ora they drained from your land.

You had all this rage, a desire to be known to the empire for that hatred. You wished to tear down Demaxia from its golden pedestal of ora, to drag it and all of its selfish people into hell. To be caught then mindlessly thrown into the prisons like some petty fellon? How demeaning.

As you were being taken away by the guards, you let out a sharp scream and managed to break free. You quickly rushed towards Kayn, moving swiftly and lightly on the balls of your feet, pumping your legs, and launching yourself upwards to attack him. However, even with Kayn's back turned towards you, He swiftly swished his coat and maneuvered himself out of your range.

He swiftly spins his scythe, the blunt handle of it knocking your airborne body off and slamming you into the ground with a painful crack. Your entire body aches as you cough, the wind completely knocked out of you. You spit blood from your mouth as you scramble to collect your composure. You glance around and see the other troopers holding back their laughter.

You lunge towards the demaxian again, the soldiers attempting to restrain you before Kayn. Although Kayn refused to acknowledge you he was impressed by your display of determination. The ordinal scowled while gripping his scythe tightly as if struggling to contain his frustration. "You may be skilled, but that doesn't excuse your lack of respe-" You cut off Kayn with a swift kick to his gut, he hunches over briefly before lashing out a flurry of swings from his scythe each slash you manage to dodge and counter, edging closer to him between each of his misses until you edge close enough to launch another hit hooking into his jaw.

Kayn's demeanor becomes more agitated as he realizes he's been outclassed in the battle. However, you watch as the Demaxian's eyes light up with interest as he smiles slyly and laughs. "You have guts, it's rare for someone of your status to fight back like that." He steps back cracking his neck with his scythe now lowered to his side. "Tell you what, if you can beat me in this duel I'll let you go. Then you'll be free to live this encounter and go back to being a menace to our glorious empire. If you lose however.... let's just say your sentence will be much more severe."

The ordinal inhales deeply and resumes a broad stance standing confidently before you beconing you with his hand in a taunt. "You will not be granted freedom unless you prove yourself worthy of it. So fight me."

The troopers cheer on encouraging the ordinal to put you in your place, but to their surprise you don't back down from the fight. You manage to hold your own against the demaxian, the troopers' eyes widening as you throw punch after punch.

The fight is fast and brutal. Both of you trade blow after blow as your bodies move effortlessly, dancing and flowing together with incredible agility. You dodge and duck beneath his swings while you deliver your own quick attacks in return. The soldiers spectating are captivated by the sight of the fight, some even cheering you both on as the two of you push each other further and further.

You may have been unarmed but Kayn was still unable to land a hit good enough to take you down, merely cutting you lightly while you miraculously used your body as your weapon. Your swift movements are a blur to the soldiers, who barely manage to track the two of you.

You land a series of solid punches to Kayn's body before he retaliates and delivers a kick to your side, pushing you back. You're able to move out of the way of his scythe as it flies past your head, the demaxian's face remains unfazed even though you landed some powerful hits on him.

"A lower class nobody shouldn't have such power" The Ordinal seethes through clenched teeth, his face twists in rage as he realizes you have successfully fought him to a stalemate. You can see the furious fire in his eyes as he stares at you menacingly.

"A rebel...someone like you, you have no right to be this good," the demaxian snarls, "what a shame, you could have been a fine soldier if you had been born into the proper blood," the demaxian chuckles.

Your own face creases with fury. "I take pride in not being of such filthy heritage"

The demaxian laughs loudly and gives you a look of disdain. "Oh? And just what are you prideful of? A species that could never create something so glorious as the Locus Armada? A race that could never harness an element that grants such limitless possibilities?"

He gives you a mocking salute as he speaks, "I can understand why you became a rebel. It must be exhausting being inadequate."

Fed up with his obnoxiousness, you interrupt his insults, swinging your leg behind Kayn's knees in a sweeping motion, causing his legs to buckle. As he stumbles, you aim a well-delivered strike to his groin, forcing him to recoil with a grunt. You top off the combo by bringing your elbow down onto his shoulder.

A satisfied smirk beams down onto the ordinal who was still recovering below you. "Your "glorious" bloodline is full of fat selfish pigs. All you do is swarm and colonize your military is rightly named the locus armada because that perfectly describes your kind as the pest you all are".

Suddenly your nerves are set on fire and your body twitches and spasms erratically as a powerful current of electricity jolt through your body. You drop to the floor feeling all of your strength instantly drained and your blurry vision spots the guards had stepped in with one of them holding a tazer.

Kayn grabs your dazed body and presses you against his chest, he stares into your eyes intently with a powerful gaze, his blue-eye boring right through your spirit. Your hearing is muffled as the insides of your ears ring but you can make out the ordinal's voice commanding his guards to be dismissed before blacking out.

Your eyes snap open as the past events rush back, instinctively you try to get up but are immediately halted finding your hands bound in cuffs. Glaring at them your first move is to try crushing your wrists free through the hole, too tight. Grunting you attempt to bash them against the wall before Kayns mocking voice rings "ah ah ah I wouldn't do that if I were you" He walks over towards you tapping the cuffs with a cunning smirk "Military cuffs, GPS, vital tracking and a shocking protocol" You grumble and glare up at the Ordinal before looking at your surroundings. You expected crumbly, rusted floors, sterile flickering lights and heavy-duty bars. But instead, you found yourself in a luxurious suite. A massive bed made with silky fabrics set in a spacious room of black gold and blue... Demaxian colours.

You squint your eyes and look up at the Ordinal guardedly. "Why did you bring me here? You get lost in your oversized cruise ship?" Kayn remains silent glaring down at you. You looked so pathetic on your knees before him and yet you stared back defiantly, the distain you had for him coming out like potent venom.

The ordinal doesn't respond to your provocation, instead he continues to stare at you with an amused look. The opulent room around you is a contrast to the harsh life you have lived on the streets. The silken furniture, the lavish bed, the spacious room would make any homeless individual feel uncomfortable in its presence.

There is a strange silence between the two of you as you remain on your knees, staring intensely at the demaxian with a hostile glare. His eyes bore into yours for what feels like ages before he finally speak.

"I wouldn't speak so proudly if I were you," the ordinal hisses, "you are a traitor to this empire, a lowborn pest. I could have your head for a pillow, yet you dare to act with such attitude before me?"

The room is silent as the two of you lock eyes, your resentment towards him clear as day. "So what now? Are you going to just kill me?" you ask, your voice full of contempt. The ordinal only shakes his head leaning over you so you have to crane your neck to remain eye contact. "No Im going to remind you exactly where you stand in this chain of command" Kayns says as one of his arms pulls up the fabric of his uniform that drapes over his pants chuckling. "You were naive to think I'd actually set you free from my grasp after all the little stunts you pulled" he clicks his tongue and shakes his head dismissively "no no no imprisonment or death is too good for you, I plan on breaking you another way."

Your eyes narrow as his hand goes to unzip the fly of his pants as he watches your reaction with an amused smirk. "I'm going to teach you to respect this empire" his other arm, the golden robotic one, grabs the back of your head gripping at your hair controlling it to become level with his hips as he looks at you expectantly.

You resist his hold as you jerk your head trying to break free of his grasp when another electric shock reverberates through you eminating from your wrists. A single glare from kayn reminds you that this shock was merely a warning for any more defiance. The ordinals cock now prods your lips promptly.

With a growl you releuctantly submit and begin to tentatively part your lips open, yet Kayn impatiently thrusts his long cock in, instantly hitting the back of your throat. You retch and pull back on instinct but the grip on your hair becomes more severe and you are force to take in more as kayns grip pulls you until your face is flush against his groin his neatly trimmed blue hair brushing your nose.

You can feel the Ordinals cock curve to penetrate your throat cutting off your air, you try to scream intent on cussing him out but the garbled noise that emits from you only makes Kayn throw his head back and moan. His hips begin to thrust each time his cock is crushed down your throat, tears prick your eyes as you helplessly choke.

You can feel your face burn red from the humiliation and lack of air, your head was caving in on itself with pressure, your pulse began to thrum. Panic was sinking in and you felt like you needed to retaliate so you bit down.

Instantly Kayn pulls himself out of your throat and you gasp for air barely getting a sputter before an iron grip is on your throat continuing to suffocate you. "Insolent brat! You'll pay for that!" Suddenly Kayn grabs you and throws you onto the bed, you bounce on the mattress and try to scramble but the Ordinal was fast to pin you down from under him. He grabs your cuffed wrists and pulls them behind your head forcing you into an inconvenient position with his other hand he takes his scythe and uses it to slice off your clothes now leaving you bare beneath him.

You could feel Kayns evil grin behind you as he positioned himself at your entrance, your hands and knees trembled and you mindlessly began to beg for him to stop between little sobs. Kayn leaned forward pressing his broad chest against your back and his laughter vibrated through you. "Not so high and mighty now are you little brat?" his tone was sickeningly sweet and condescending, his warm breath ticking your ear. Finally he pushes in his long length reaching deep within you. Kayn shudders at how you tightly clenched at him, the raw sensation driving him to thrust fast slamming his hips into yours.

Swallowing your sobs you grit your teeth and scrunch your eyes tight bowing your head, you refused to beg, begging for mercy would get you nowhere. Demaxians never took pity, the Ordinal was just as cruel and greedy as the troops that invaded your planet. So you would not cry, you would not submit and you would stay strong through all of this.

Part 2 out now

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