A nice post to ruin your day, if agent Trip hadn’t kicked the terrigen crystals in the chamber, he could’ve survived.
He showed no signs of the mist affecting him before he kicked it, so it’s likely that he could’ve survived exposure. And we know Daisy would’ve cracked out of the husk.
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The Story of the undercover mission that resulted in you and Natasha's first kiss. Set in 2011 around 6 months prior to Avengers.
One Shot - 4909 Words - NatashaxReader/OC - Reader is SHIELD Agent with Enhanced Hearing and Sight (L/N=Jensen)
READ ON A03 HERE :)
"your attention shifted to the main doors as a group of about a dozen young women entered. Not an uncommon sight, of course; however, it was the bright red hair that had immediately caught your attention. A smirk spread across your face as you wondered what kind of trouble Natasha Romanoff was inevitably bringing with her."
As you returned to the second floor, the music reverberated through your entire body, and you took a brief moment to steady yourself, straightening out your suit jacket. Even after almost six months, it still took a fair amount of concentration to keep control of your abilities in this atmosphere. This mission had ended up being quite helpful for practice; it did feel as though you had made significant progress in controlling your ability to differentiate between sounds and block out unnecessary ones.
You were currently running the club and the drug operation it was a cover for while Klein was away on business. You were usually placed in less desirable positions, often the target of capture—the exact opposite of your current mission—and you had to admit you found yourself enjoying the power.
You were here because, even the drug operation was somewhat of a front, Klein was working with someone you knew only as ‘The Pedlar,’ funneling top-secret information to criminal organizations across the globe. Although Klein had not yet brought you fully into that aspect of the work, your abilities had allowed you to gather a fair amount of information, and you were sure that this was a kind of test that would result in your being brought further in upon his return.
Everything had been going well so far; the most important part of the weekend, a large cocaine delivery, had progressed without issue last night, and now you just had the evening to relax until his return tomorrow. Marcus, the club manager, approached as you walked along the rail of the balcony. He was young, barely out of high school, and honestly too innocent to be taking up this kind of life, but he did what he was told.
“Jeremiah is here again. He’s insisting on speaking with you.”
“Couldn't handle it yourself, Marcus?”
you tilted your head in return, and as he replied, your attention shifted to the main doors as a group of about a dozen young women entered. Not an uncommon sight, of course; however, it was the bright red hair that had immediately caught your attention. A smirk spread across your face as you wondered what kind of trouble Natasha Romanoff was inevitably bringing with her.
“It’s fine, Marcus. You can bring him up, and while you're down there, find out about this group of women that just came in for me, would you?”
“Yes, boss, of course.”
You kept your eyes on the women as they made their way to a set of tables in the corner, and Natasha positioned herself in the booth between the tables, an easy exit and good vantage point for the room as she conversed with the others, her eyes subtly taking in the surroundings. She was wearing a simple black asymmetric dress, with her left shoulder fully exposed and the hem falling just below the knee, a reasonable length aside from the drastic slit running nearly the full length of her right thigh.
Whatever the issue was, it must be serious; otherwise, they would have simply waited until your weekly check-in. Yet of all the agents they could have sent, it just had to be her. At least you could take advantage of your abilities; you just hoped that the benefit would outweigh the distraction she always managed to cause within you.
Marcus returned with Jerimiah following closely behind. He was in his early 40s with a disheveled appearance.
“If you are hoping to get any special treatment because Klein is away, you are very, very mistaken.”
“No, no, of course not, Jayce. I, ah, I know you run a tight ship. I, ah, I’m just here to, like, apologize. I know I messed up, but I can make it up. I can, if you just give me a chance.”
“Ahhh, you want MORE,”
you respond as you walk closer to the man.
“We are not in the business of supplying to people who like to sample the product, and by the looks of you right now, that is still a problem.”
“No, no. Jayce, I swear I’ll pay full. I will. I just can’t survive off 200; I need to bring in more. Please, I can do it. I can.”
Reaching out, you grab him by the shirt and move him against the nearby wall before continuing,
“Clean yourself up, and you'll make more by actually selling what you’re taking for yourself. Three months at 2, and then I’ll consider it. But if you show up here again asking for more before then, it will be the last time you get anything. You hear me?”
He only nodded as you released him, and he made his way back down the nearby stairs. You turn to Marcus.
“You don't have to do much, you know, Marcus, just be firm and always follow through.”
“Right, got it, boss. Also, those women you asked about? They are from the local sorority—semi-regulars—but have a couple of new members with them, apparently. No red flags, though.”
“Good. Send a round to their table from me.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Grabbing your drink from the table, you returned to the railing. You knew it wouldn't take Natasha long to spot you, yet you figured it would be better to make it as easy as possible. Marcus approached the table, and after divvying up the drinks among the women, he gestured to you above, and they all cheered in your direction.
You and Natasha locked eyes as you shared a small smile and raised your glasses before you rested your forearms on the railing, holding your drink in front of you. She raised her glass to her lips, pretending to drink as she spoke,
“Long time no see, Jensen. You good to hear me from up there?”
You nodded and tugged at your ear to signal her to go ahead.
“Sorry to intrude, but we have a problem that they wanted relayed ASAP. Klein was taken in by the FBI yesterday, and it sounds like he’s making a deal. Fury wants to know if you are able to access the record system so we can get the data out before they take this place down.”
You stretched your neck out and downed the rest of your drink, pointing at the dance floor before turning around. Heading down the stairs, you stopped at the edge of the bar and advised the VIP waitress to send some champagne up and to be ready to supply full service.
Natasha is easily spotted on the dance floor as you approach, offering her a hand and immediately pulling her in close. Her arms wrap around your neck as you take hold of her hips and move your head above her shoulder to speak into her ear.
“Aren't you getting a little old to be taking the role of a college student?”
You find yourself overly aware of just how close your bodies are as you move to the music. You both pull away slightly to face each other, a smirk on her face as she raises an eyebrow and responds,
“Maybe. But it sure caught your attention pretty quick.”
You raise a hand and run it through the hair flowing over her shoulder as it runs halfway down her bicep.
“Your hair is longer.”
“It does that. But I have been thinking about cutting it short.”
“Well, either way, you always look stunning.”
“You clean up pretty well yourself.”
Her hand moves down the lapel of your suit jacket slowly before she turns, pressing her back to your front as you continue to dance.
“We can do it, but it has to be tonight, and it will break my cover.”
“We suspected it might. We have the go-ahead to break if you're sure we can get it, but Fury says we can have four days.”
“I'm head of the house until Klein gets back tomorrow, and once he does, it will be much harder. Do you have a USB on you?”
“I do.”
“Good. Then let's party. Introduce me to your new friends.”
You spend the next hour or so back up on the second floor with the dozen college students as they continue to drink and dance. Settled into the corner of one of the couches with your arm around Natasha, your fingers running along her bare arm while hers rest on your thigh, playing your parts.
She continues to play up her intoxication, switching between conversations with the others and whispering in your ear. With anyone else, you're sure you would have had to actively remember to keep up with the ruse even to simply look relaxed in this position. However, with Natasha, it wasn't even really a ruse; the positioning, the physical closeness, the movements just felt natural.
The thought of which causes you pause, you had hoped that perhaps some more significant time away from her would have diminished some of these feelings, but it seemed as though they were as prevalent as ever. Shifting slightly, Natasha moves her hand up to the base of your neck, drawing your attention back to her.
“So when are we gonna get out of here?”
“Soon,”
you reply, moving your own hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear and slowly pulling it back across her face. Staring into each other's eyes, you can't help but find yourself drawn to her. Unsure if it was on purpose or not, her gaze quickly jumps to your lips and back. Causing your breath to hitch slightly as you both look away, and you bite your lip.
Considering the play you were trying to put on, it would have made sense for you to have kissed her by now, probably more than once, and yet you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. As you try to sort through the thoughts of why you are holding back, the announcement for the last call rings out. You shift to get up, seeing Marcus against the wall nearby.
“Come on, Marcus, let loose a bit! You did well this weekend, so have a bit of fun to celebrate. I know I'm going to.”
You wink at him as you turn to Natasha, holding out your hand. She takes it and rises to her feet, adding a slight stumble for dramatic flair. You lead her to the elevator doors and make your way up to the third floor. It’s slightly more narrow and runs around the perimeter of the building, similar to the second; however, it is fully enclosed with one-way glass, the sound of the music greatly diminished.
You head down the hallway, stopping briefly at the security room. You open the door, and multiple screens fill the wall with two people seated inside. The older of the two has already turned to face you.
“James, I'm going to the office for a while, and I DO NOT want to be disturbed, got it?”
His eyes flicker between the two of you with a satisfied grin.
“You got it, boss.”
Closing the door behind you, you continue on to the final room, reaching your hand up to glide your ring over the access panel light, which turns green before you enter the code and it clicks open. Once inside, you release Natasha and direct her to the desk at the center.
“This is the only room in the building not monitored. Everything is in there. I only have access to the primary system; however, it shouldn't be hard to break into the rest, so have at it.”
You finish entering your login information and gesture to Natasha toward the computer as she pulls a USB drive out from her clutch.
“Admitting that I'm better than you, Jensen?”
“Maybe. But then again, faster isn't the same as better.”
“I suppose that depends on who you ask.”
As she works her way through the computer, you take off your suit jacket and toss it onto one of the chairs, then swipe your arm along the edge of the desk, causing some papers and office supplies to fall to the floor. Natasha shoots you an amused look while you untuck your shirt.
“Might as well make it look convincing,”
you muse as you remove your ring and toss it in the garbage can.
“Okay, I'm in, but it's a lot. It could take up to 15 minutes to download. Think we have that?”
“Should be fine. Just one wildcard.”
She moves to the front of the desk and leans against it as you look on from the window.
“Certainly not the kind of place I usually find myself extricating you from.”
“It certainly is not. It has been an interesting change of pace.”
“The power looks good on you.”
“Careful, Romanoff; I might start to think you actually like me.”
You share a look before you turn your attention back to the window.
“We will be able to walk away from here with no issue. They won't even notice anything, not until Klein gets back, and we are hopefully long gone so we can stop at my apartment and collect the relay supplies before we head out. It will also be good for the car tracker.”
“Sounds good. I'm set up at a hotel downtown and can contact HQ when we arrive to arrange travel.”
“When did you get in?”
“About this time yesterday.”
“And still took you this long to come visit?”
“Well, I did expect to have a few more days to plan after contact, but I also didn't expect it to be quite this easy.”
“Yeah, me too. I mean, they will mess you up, but if you're in, you're in. Honestly, I think the Pedlar might have picked them as an access point because the operation is just so- average none would expect big things from them”
Then you see Allison talking with Marcus on the second floor, her typical irritating self, asking where you are.
“Well, of course there's the wild card. How much time do we have left?”
Natasha leans back to look at the screen as you walk towards her, listening to the pair reach the top of the elevator.
“87%. Should only be a couple of minutes, max.”
“Okay, we should be able to handle that then,”
you finish as you approach her space, smirking as you lift her onto the desk to sit just in front of the computer, positioning yourself between her legs. She subtly places her left hand at your waist, within easy reach of your holster.
“Don’t get trigger happy; it’s just the second in command. I had her taking care of distribution downstairs. She's annoying but won't cause issues unless we do. Trust me, Natalie , I can talk us out.”
“Don't worry, Jayce , I’ll follow your lead.”
You look into each other's eyes again, bodies against each other, face so close you can feel her breath on your lips. You find yourself having to focus on controlling your breathing as she raises her right hand to your face. You can hear James arguing with them as they approach the door, and you brace yourself to move.
Hesitating for a moment, you begin; however, instead of a forward motion, you move drastically to her left and lay your lips on her neck. She stretches away from you, looking at the ceiling as she moves her hand past your ear to grip the back of your head. You find yourself a little lost in the taste of her skin as you slowly move, then hearing the security panel activate, you move your right hand to her exposed thigh.
As your fingers slide under the fabric of the slit, you notice her breath catch, causing you to tighten your grip. The sudden hum that escapes her throat immediately elicits the same effect in yours, taking you by surprise as the door opens. You glance at the USB, still glowing red, before you turn your head to the right, remaining in the same position and speaking towards the wall.
“I recall specifically telling you that I did not want to be disturbed, James.”
It’s Allison who responds, irritation lacing her voice.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be fucking around on the job.”
“I’ll fuck around when and wherever I want.”
You turn your head back towards Natasha’s shoulder, taking a glance at the computer just as you see the glow turn green. You plant another kiss on her shoulder, continuing to speak as you move your right hand from her thigh to her hip and lean forward slightly so that you can remove the USB from the computer.
“But there is no need to be jealous, Allison.”
As you turn to face the trio, you run your hand up Natasha’s back and tuck the USB into the band of her bra before running your fingers along her hair.
“Excuse me for a moment here, darling.”
You walk across the room towards the three standing at the door. Marcus and James have slight concern etched on their faces while Allison continues to look at Natasha.
“James, I find myself disappointed in you, and trust me, you will not like what happens if you do that a second time. Get back to your post.”
“Yes, boss. Won't happen again.”
He turns and leaves the room as you turn to the others.
“Might you please remind me who Klein left in charge?”
“That would be you, Jayce,”
Marcus responds with a clearing of his throat as Allison turns her gaze back to you. You move to stand in front of her, only a step away.
“But of course, you think it should have been you.”
“I've been here for over a year; I should have been next in line when Alaris left.”
She raises her arm, and you quickly catch her wrist in a firm grip.
“Perhaps you should have done a better job of proving yourself then, mmm?”
She moves to pull away from your grip while attempting to strike you with her free arm, and you easily block her. Quickly, you strike an elbow into her jaw and spin her in your grip before pinning her to the wall, one arm behind her back, with your knife now pulled from your belt and pressed into the wall beside her head.
“You really need to learn to keep your attitude in check.”
Moving the knife down to her shoulder, you slowly press in until drawing blood and slide back, leaving an inch-long cut.
“Truly Allison. You should think about how to better prove yourself, because when Klein returns and finds out that you gave Jerimiah another 200 after I specifically told him no, well, let’s just say he’s not going to be very happy with you.”
“How did you…”
Before she finishes, you pull her back from the wall a couple of inches before pushing her back into it with force and kicking out her knee, letting her fall to the ground.
“I, unlike some of us here, am actually good at my job.”
You turn around, sheathing your knife, and throwing Natasha a roll of the eyes as you walk back towards her.
“It was, ahhh, Niomi?”
She stands from the desk.
“Natalie.”
“Right, Natalie, sorry. What do you say we take this back to my place, where we won’t get so rudely interrupted?”
She simply nods coyly and takes your hand, both turning to leave as Allison stands from the floor.
“You think you can do better? Have at it. Close up for the night, and if I find anything out of place come morning, I'll show you what a real scar looks like.”
Walking back out of the club and heading down toward the garage, you notice Marcus coming down behind you.
“Just close up and head home as usual, Marcus. She shouldn't give you any trouble.”
“I was just wondering, was there anything I could — I mean, should — have done differently, Jayce? I know I shouldn't really ask. I'm just really trying, and I want to do better. Be more like you.”
You share a quick glance with Natasha as you approach the car.
“Honestly, if you want to be more like me, then you're in the wrong place.”
You open the passenger door for Natasha and close it behind her before turning to the young man.
“Why do you even want to be in this business, Marcus?”
“Well, I mean, you know I'm good with the books, and it's lucrative, so why not?”
“Look, kid, I'm going to be straight with you for a minute, okay? You have some good skills and potential, but those can be put to good use in a lot of different areas, and you could do some good out there. So I'm just saying, if an opportunity presents itself, you should seriously consider it.”
You placed a hand on his shoulder briefly before heading over to the driver's side and opening the door.
“Oh, and Marcus?”
“Yeah, boss?”
“This conversation never happened.”
He nodded, and you entered the car and drove away.
“Getting soft spots for criminals now, Jensen?”
Natasha smirked as you drove.
“I wouldn't call it that. But I would be lying if I said I didn't see a bit of myself in him.”
It didn't take long to get to your nearby apartment. Upon entry, you began to strip down, tossing articles of clothing onto the floor as you walked to the bedroom and removed the blanket. You pulled off and reset the sheet in a more disorganized position, and before removing your pants, now only in your underwear, Natasha spoke from her position leaning against the doorframe.
“Always putting on a show.”
You shrugged as you made your way to the closet, noting her gaze lingering on you.
“Why not? They will look here eventually; might as well keep up the act as much as possible. You know, you could take that off and add to the ploy.”
You sent a wink her way as you donned more casual attire.
“I could. But I think you would enjoy it too much; best to keep free of distractions.”
“You say that as if just being here isn't a distraction.”
You purposefully avoid looking at her during the exchange. This style of banter is not out of the ordinary, but it was getting more difficult to keep a straight face. She simply watched as you finished your task, collecting the relay equipment from its hiding place inside the vent before emptying the gun magazine and leaving it on the counter with the knife, phone, and keys. You left through the fire escape in order to avoid the front door security cameras and walked a couple of blocks before hailing a cab and heading to the hotel.
Once you arrived, Natasha went to change and called to arrange transport back to DC while you made some tea. She exited the washroom wearing jeans and a simple red tank top, her hair tied up in a ponytail and cell phone tucked against her shoulder. You handed her a mug, and she nodded with a smile as you passed by, heading to the balcony with your own in hand.
The early morning stillness was always something you enjoyed, as long as it was the end of a day and not the start of one. You realized you must have gotten quite used to standing on a balcony from your time at the club, as you naturally leaned against the rail.
After a few minutes, Natasha joined you, advising that they had been able to reroute a nearby Quinjet, which would arrive in just a couple of hours. She stood a few steps away from you, leaning her back against the rail as she drank. You stood in silence for several minutes, simply breathing the fresh air before she spoke.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You know you can, but whether or not I answer is another story.”
You turned your head to look at her as you replied with curiosity, wondering what it would be, as you could tell her tone was more serious in nature. She broke eye contact, looking up at the sky briefly before continuing to look forward.
“I was just curious. Earlier in the office. Why didn’t you kiss me?”
You couldn't help but release a small huff of amusement as you looked down.
“It ah, certainly would have made sense.”
“It would have. Probably even before the office.”
“Maybe I wanted to minimize distractions.”
“So my lips are a distraction, but my neck isn't?”
She smirked as she looked at you this time, and you turned to face her, leaning a hip against the railing as you returned the look with a shrug of your shoulder.
“Well, I guess you've got me there.”
You paused for a moment as you considered your thoughts and took a breath.
“I was going to, and then I, ah, I had a thought, and so then I didn't.”
“What was the thought?”
“Natasha…” You took another deep breath as you shook your head. “Why do you want to know so badly?”
She crossed her arms and turned to face you, mirroring your position, hip against the rail.
“I, ah, had a thought too. When it seemed like you were going to.”
“Ah, I see, so you'll tell me if I tell you.”
You gestured with your hands as she shrugged.
“Only seems fair.”
You continued to shake your head and turned again to face the room, leaning your back against the rail and taking a drink, looking up at the sky for a moment as you thought.
“Because it was just a mission. An act we were putting on; something that had to be done. And I knew we needed to do something, but I couldn't shake the thought that I just... I didn't want our first kiss to be that—to be just a part of a mission.”
“Our first kiss?”
You tilted your head to look at her again.
“I said what I said.”
You watched her chest rise as she took a deep breath and then spoke, barely above a whisper.
“I wanted you to.”
She looked up at you, and you locked eyes as she continued more clearly.
“The thought that I had when it seemed like you were going to—it was that I wanted you too.”
“mmm, in the moment or in general?”
She didn't respond at first; you just looked at each other for a couple of seconds before she pushed away from the rail, putting her cup on the table beside you and moving to stand in front of you.
“Is this just a part of the mission?”
she asked, her face stern as a flash of confusion crossed over yours.
“What?”
Her demeanor broke as she scrunched her features slightly.
“Right now. Here. Do you consider this a part of the mission?”
You felt your heart beating as you realized what you thought she was implying, and as she ran her tongue along her lips, you found yourself having to swallow before you responded.
“No. It isn't.”
You only managed to stand up from your lean before she closed the distance between you, running her hand across your cheek as she leaned forward, pausing for only a second before making contact.
Her lips moved slowly against yours in the moment before you reacted, your free hand reaching for her hip and pushing harder against her. Tender yet fierce you moved firmly against each other, the tension of the last few years finally released.
Lost in the heat of the moment for only a minute before the need to touch her overtook you, you pushed your body forward a step, causing her to stumble back slightly, gripping your hip to stabilize herself. You pulled away for air and leaned to place your cup onto the table, finding yourself distracted enough that it tipped to its side rather loudly, causing you both to smile and huff.
Your attention turned back to her as you raised your now free hand to her face, running your thumb along her jawline. Silent for a moment, you simply took in her features in a way that you had stopped yourself from doing since you first met. As your hand completed its trip across her face, you moved it to the back of her neck and lightly pulled her back towards you.
You wouldn't even be able to estimate the number of times you had thought about this moment. Yet it was like nothing you could have imagined—the feeling of her body against yours, her lips smooth and full, the softness of her skin and hair in your hand, her grip as her hand slid up your back. You found yourself completely lost in the moment, hearing only the rapid thumping of your hearts.
Unsure how many minutes passed before the sudden ringing of the phone startled you. Pulling apart, your foreheads leaned against each other to breathe, she was the first to speak.
“That's probably the notice that our car has arrived.”
“Yeah. We should. probably get it.”
“Yeah. We probably. should.”
You pulled away enough to look into each other's eyes again as you moved a stray hair behind her ear and softly declared,
Warnings: Some swearing, work stress, impossible tasks
Summary: You're a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You've been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.
A/N: I honestly do not know where this is going and why I even started this. It was an idea that sort of popped into my head while at work. I hope you enjoy it! Please comment/like/reblog. If you'd like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!
The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.
Papers fluttered to the ground around Loki as stared down at the young woman who ran into him. He cocked an eyebrow as he heard a low hiss of pain come from her gritted teeth. The impact could not have been that painful, but how was he to know? He was minding his own business, walking down the fairly empty hallway reading a book when something had come crashing into him. It was not the first time he had been assaulted, but it was certainly the first time to be tackled in the middle of an empty hallway. Glancing around, he noticed there were a few people lingering about, watching to see what he would do or see what transpired.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Her voice drew his attention back down to the ground to see her on her knees trying to gather the scattered sheets of paper. He slid his right foot back as she reached for one near it.
“You are excused,” he responded in a level tone that held little emotion, if any at all. She looked up at him in wide-eyed shock which had him raise an eyebrow yet again at her. He hesitated for a moment to speak, feeling the eyes on them.
“Is there something else you wish to say?”
“Huh? Oh, no, just surprised to hear you say anything. I’ve never heard you speak before, so I thought that maybe you couldn’t.” She admitted, tapping the bottom edge of the sheets to make the pile more uniform. “You have a nice voice.” She added, carefully inspecting the surrounding area, oblivious to the bewildered look of the prince before her. “Ah-ha!” She grinned, crawling forward and reaching between his feet. Startled by her actions, Loki quickly took a few steps backward, leaving a noticeable shoe print on the paper she had been reaching for. “Thank you, this was the last one I needed.” She smiled at him, though when she saw the print, her lips quickly curled downwards into a noticeable frown. “That’s not good, Fury’s not gonna be happy.” She mumbled, carefully placing the dirtied sheet on the top as she stood up with her sizable stack of folders and binders in her arms. “Well, it was a pleasure speaking to you, Mr. Loki, I hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”
He watched as she casually resumed her walk down the hallway, unperturbed by the fact that she had just walked straight into him, Loki, the monster that had wreaked havoc in the world and destroyed their precious city. The very city they were currently in now. What an odd Midgardian, but I suppose this would be the place to find plenty of odd ones. He turned to look at some spectators and watched them visibly flinch or stumble as they met his gaze, scrambling to leave the vicinity and get away from here, away from him. Opening his book once more, he continued on his way towards his destination.
Just as she had anticipated, Fury was not pleased with the surprise print on one of the report pages. He looked between it and her in silence, sliding the packet across his desk in her direction as he leaned back and turned his chair slightly.
“Mind telling me why you suddenly decided to decorate such a vital report with a shoe?”
“It was an accident, sir. While on my way here, I was reviewing the content and ended up crashing into someone on the way. They unintentionally stepped on the sheet while trying to avoid the others. I didn’t have time to reprint the documents prior to this meeting. I will be submitting a clean copy into the record and have this one shredded.”
“I’ll let it slide this time only. Next time, watch where you’re walking and leave reviewing for when you’re at a desk. Everything looks to be in order, reprint and file it.”
“Thank you sir, I’ll have it done right away.” She bowed her head and picked up the report.
“Don’t let this happen again.” He sternly remarked. “The next time it does, you’ll have to deal with the consequences. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal, sir.” Y/N nodded. “The next item for discussion is the transition of all physical resources into digital. I do understand that many have requested that all resources be scanned and made digital, but that task is a lot larger than many realize. Also, not all of our sources are safe to scan due to age or they need to be translated and checked prior to scanning. It is not impossible, but a sizable team would be needed in order to have it completed. I propose that the physical sources we have are properly cataloged and organized so they are easier to be found. We can have them scanned in the process, but again, we run into the issues of needing to translate and verify that the translations are correct.”
“Y/N, just get to the fucking point. Can it be done?” Fury cut her off, looking at her pointedly with his good eye.
“In an ideal situation, yes.” She let out a small sigh.
“And what is an ‘ideal situation’?”
“A team of at least five agents per letter, several translators for the various languages we have to make sure we have them properly translated, and a warehouse filled with scanners and computers to scan, name, and upload. With such a team and ideal conditions always, it could take about five to ten years to complete.”
“Oh just that?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, his frown more pronounced than usual. Y/N knew he was not pleased with her answer, but there was no use in trying to make it lighter than it really was. They had an extensive library in house and warehouses of delicate and confidential artifacts, which included tomes and scrolls. She was the head librarian and managed all of this with only a handful of others spread across the various locations.
“Ideally, yes.”
“And if it wasn’t ideal?”
“Depends on what factors are not present, but without those minimum requirements it could take decades.”
“But it can be done.” He flatly responded, sitting forward in his seat and resting his elbows on the desk. “We won’t destroy any of the physical resources, but you’ll have to make do with what you get. We don’t have the luxury of just handing over a slew of agents for this. We need boots on the ground globally to keep an eye out on things out there bigger than us.” A weight suddenly dropped in the pit of her stomach. Though she was not expecting anything close to what she listed as an ideal, there was something in his tone that screamed out that she was going to hear the worst case scenario.
“And what would I get to work with?” She managed to keep her voice steady.
“State-of-the-art technology per library staff member per location and a god.”
Silence fell over them as she stood there, slowly blinking at her superior. This had to be some sort of sick joke. She knew the organization could not give what was needed, but this? This was hardly anything at all.
“I’m sorry, did you just say new computers and a god?”
“That’s what I said.” He nodded his head.
“You must be joking, right? This task would take more than just decades to do, and what does ‘a god’ even mean? A ‘god’ per person or location, or just one god? And what sort of ‘god’ Do you just have deities on demand or something? Are they just going to snap their fingers and things will be done magically? What can they do for me and this lifelong assignment I have now been tasked with?” She paced in front of his desk, muttering to herself on how this could work and what sort of person this ‘god’ was. He cannot be serious, right? But Fury isn’t the type to just say shit or joke around. She turned and looked at her boss. No, not a joker. She frowned.
“Y/N, calm down. We’ve got two Asgardian gods that have a knack for understanding all languages. You don’t need a team of translators when they can do it on the spot just like that.” His sharp tone made her stop and turn to face him. “So that whole crap can be cut, and you can work with one of them to get all this done faster with fewer people and just get to organizing shit. You’re getting what you get, end of discussion. Anything else?”
“No sir,” she sighed and shook her head.
“Good, I’ll get Agent Hill to talk to them and reach out to you. You’re dismissed.”
“Yes sir.” She slightly bowed her head and left the office, her shoulders dropping the moment the door closed behind her. This was not going to be easy.
Another great year for the Big Bang! Thank you to all our amazing participants. This event wouldn't be what it is without you!
That one time Peter infiltrated the Paris Olympics
Status: Complete
Word Count: 7,023
Rating: Teen and Up (for swearing)
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker, Aunt May Parker & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & SHIELD Agents & Staff, Peter Parker & Team USA
Characters: Peter Parker, Aunt May Parker (Marvel), SHIELD Agents & Staff (Marvel), Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones (Marvel), Team USA gymnasts, Original Female Character(s)
Additional Tags: Paris 2024 Summer Olympics, Gymnast Peter Parker, SHIELD Agent Peter Parker, temporarily, Sports, Gymnastics, Slice of Life, POV Outsider, Social Media, did not think i would be writing rpf but here we are, Crack Treated Seriously, snoop dogg appears briefly, also peter is spider-man but that's not important, tags will tag btw
Summary:
SHIELD needs access to the Olympic network for a mission, however there doesn't seem to be a non-suspicious way to quickly get inside.
Enter Peter Parker. Seventeen years old. Gymnastics prodigy. Also Spider-Man.
Author: @medieval-hippie
Artists: @starsofshadowanddust and @totally-nromal-brain-functions (art available in the fic)
Beta: elm.tree.
Assistant Guy
Status: Complete
Word Count: 11334 words
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark , Peter Parker & Tony Stark , Aunt May Parker & Peter Parker , Uncle Ben Parker & Peter Parker, Uncle Ben Parker & Aunt May Parker & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Adrian Toomes, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts
Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Uncle Ben Parker (Marvel), Adrian Toomes, Random OC Characters, Thanos (Marvel), The Avengers, The Fantastic Four Additional Tags: Spiderverse Big Bang, BAMF Peter Parker, Good Parent Aunt May Parker (Marvel), Assistant Peter Parker, POV Outsider, Tony Stark Doesn't Know Peter Parker Is Spider-Man, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence - Movie: Captain America: Civil War (2016), Competent Peter Parker, Smart Peter Parker, Peter Parker attends NYU, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Good Adrian Toomes, Adrian Toomes as Peter Parker's Mentor, Peter Parker-centric
Summary:
Richard Reeds smiled ruefully at Tony and nodded at Peter. “Got caught in the Parker Tornado, eh?”
“He won’t let me leave,” said Tony, jokingly. “I'm a kidnapee.”
“Haha, you said pee.” Peter pointed a finger at Tony mockingly.
“And you are still 12, next topic.”
-
In a universe where the Accords business went by better than in canon, Tony Stark never had a reason to recruit Spider-Man.
Years later, Peter Parker still somehow makes his way into Tony's life.
Author: @totally-nromal-brain-functions
Artists: @cicada-candy (see art here!) and @momentov1vere (see art here!)
Beta: @demigod-of-the-agni
Peter Parker's Investigation on the Life Foundation
Status: Complete
Word Count: 13,167
Archive Warnings: Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Rating: Teen and up
Relationships: Peter Parker & Venom Symbiote
Characters: Peter Parker, Venom Symbiote, Carlton Drake, Original Male Characters
Additional Tags: Peter Parker has the Venom Symbiote, Homeless Peter Parker, Protective Venom Symbiote, Human Experimentation, Venom is not evil, Angst with a Happy Ending
Summary:
Homeless people are disappearing all across New York, and as Spider-Man, Peter feels that he is obligated to find out exactly why. He knows that the Life Foundation is somehow responsible - and so, he decides to so a little investigation by volunteering for their program. This, of course, goes poorly.
Author: @brekitten
Artists: @silverasks and @sutulicat (art available in the fic!)
Beta: 1950sMonochromaticTuxedo (Ao3)
Miles Morales' Terrible, Horrible, Very Bad Day
Status: Complete
Word Count: 52,442
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Rating: Teens and Up
Relationships: Tim Drake (DCU) & Miles Morales, Miles Morales & Cassie Sandsmark, Miles Morales & Kon-El | Conner Kent, Miles Morales & Bart Allen, Tim Drake (DCU)/Miles Morales, Bart Allen & Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent & Cassie Sandsmark
Characters: Miles Morales, Tim Drake (DCU), Cassie Sandsmark, Bart Allen, Kon-El | Conner Kent
Additional Tags: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Crossover Pairings, Background Case, Dimension Travel, Miles Morales-centric, POV Miles Morales, Sweet Miles Morales, Identity Reveal, Secret Identity, Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, Slow Burn? - Freeform, Strangers to Friends, Strangers to Friends to Lovers
Summary
It was supposed to be a routine chase… just Miles, one very determined Spider-Man, late for school and swinging through Brooklyn at dawn. But when a stolen piece of Alchemax tech tears a hole in reality, Miles falls headfirst into a universe of capes, caves, and complications.
Lucky for him, he's got a team looking out for him, even if they don't trust him very much at first
Author: Anonymous
Artists: @amaxeart and @natyillustrates (art available in the fic!)
Beta: probablyaraccoon
Big Fish
Status: Complete
Word Count: 15,927
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Rating: Teens and Up
Relationships: Miles Morales & Gwen Stacy, Miles Morales & Ganke
Characters: Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Ganke Lee
Additional Tags: unrequited infatuation, boys being silly, Gwen Stacy has some things to sort out, incorporating tech into the workplace (Spider-Man edition)
Summary
Miles and Gwen have been doing the Spider-Man thing for a few years now. But when a slip-up results in Miles's new roommate Ganke finding out, Ganke has some notes about areas they've been overlooking.
“Okay, so what do the webs sound like?”
“Thwip,” Miles says beleagueredly. He belatedly tracks that answering the question is actively harming his ignorance front. “Presumably, I mean. I bet it’d be more of a thwip than a splat."
Author: Trolleyy
Artist: @owlarick (art available in the fic!)
Beta: Sun
Everybody Falls
Status: Incomplete
Word Count: 12,621
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Miles Morales & Wade Wilson, Miles Morales & Peter Parker, Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Tony Stark & Wade Wilson, Clint Barton & Wade Wilson, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Characters: Wade Wilson, Miles Morales, Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Other Character Tags to Be Added
Additional Tags: Spiderverse Big Bang, Past Child Abuse, Child Abandonment, Weapon X Project (Marvel), Wade Wilson Is Bad at Feelings, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Developing Relationship, Miles Morales Gets a Hug, Anxiety Disorder, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Summary:
The bundle in Wade's lap shifted and Peter's eyes shot down, following the movement.
"What's that?" he hesitated to ask, afraid of the answer.
Knowing Wade, any living creature he lugged back to New York was likely an alien or some mutant animal he considered too cute to kill, and Peter couldn't afford to replace a slimed-on-and-or-chewed-up work outfit right now.
"You might wanna sit down for this," Wade said.
---
Wade pokes around where he doesn't belong, Peter suffers through unwanted proximity, and they both put aside their differences to save a child.
Author: @kingpreussen
Artist: @mistydragonflyart (see art Here and Here!)
Beta: @tammy-rammy
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Nick has a soft spot for Natasha but doesn’t coddle her and lets her grow and evolve away from her red room training
Nick loves reality tv but no one will believe you if you say it. He has also shared a couple of his favorite with Natasha and Maria.
Nick and goose have had many staring contests(well Nick starng at goose while goose stares at him. Staring;starng without an 👁️ (i),get it!) after Natasha joined shield(before she became part of the fam) because goose disappearing from his office only to be in Natasha’s room wanting cuddles
Maria’s
Maria might be one of the most professional but whenever most agents are gone or only trusted ones are in the building she will quite literally barrel into nick’s office just to mess up his paperwork (the ones he can’t pass off to her obviously) stare at him and giggle then run out
Maria has once tried to be like Nick and hide in the dark shadows to scare Nick…well more like at least startle him hopefully, it kinda worked, he was surprised she was there but only for a millisecond then he grumbled
The hiding like Nick in the shadows might not have worked on Nick but it did work on many others. I think you can guess…. Clint it worked on Clint…..*scared bird screeches-HILLLLLLLLLLL WHY *……..*on the phone after, calling Laura-*mock sob* she’s so mean! Laur*and it also worked on some of the shield newer agents and even some of the more senior agents who were already tense around her, but never on Natasha not that she even tried because it’s Natasha Natasha would just laugh or smirk and say cute or something.
Natasha’s
Natasha once while waiting for Nick in his office as he cashed her to it, he wasn’t there so she paced for at least 30 minutes then sat on his desk and woke up two hours later to a freaked out shield intern who was just trying to get the director to sign something only to find no director and the black widow on the directors desk sleeping hanging and somehow not falling. Nick was watching from the security cameras he was never going to come. He was just feeling mischievous that day and wanted to see Natasha get bored and annoyed as she found out he wasn’t coming but nope he got a whole entire SHOW hahaha poor intern
Natasha might have been forced to dance in the red room but she does love it, ballet was the one part that gave her some freedom, so she still dances but not more then two hours then break time.
Clints’s
If someone was to ask Clint why he goes everywhere in the vents except the commander(Maria’s) office, meeting room#3, the west wing’s biggest closet and the east’s sides biggest closet, and Natasha’s and the commander’s dorm’s vents he would say because the closets are stupid. The meeting room is boring. It’s practically unused with no meetings ever being held, and because he respects the commander and the black widows privacy.  But in reality it’s because he does not want to see his little sister figure doing anything with his other sister(more like cousin, since Nick is kinda more uncle/dad and Phil is more dad/uncle) figurebecause oh let’s just say he’s learned lessons
“-vac! Anyone out there?!” You frowned automatically as the tinny voice yelled. The voice wasn't directly in your ear, it was further away causing the frown to deepen. Why was it further away? Why was-shit!!
Your eyes blink open as a searing hot pain shot through you. Lighting your right side ablaze with red hot flames.
An involuntary noise tumbled out of your mouth as you attempted to move your hands. Attempted to work out what was happening. Your movements weren't in your best interest but you needed to know what was causing such pain.
“I am in need of urgent evac, making my way to point A!”
You felt your side and it was warm. Warm and sticky. Shit. You didn't have to see your palms to know but in a naive moment you forced one into your line of sight. Red and dripping.
The hand fell back at your side and you took in the surrounding area. Directly in front of you was a ceiling, oh that made sense, you were lying on your back. Of course. You were on a mission, how could you forget?
“ETA to evac point 2 minutes.” The voice called again. It was to your left. In the fight you had lost the earpiece. Your movements were clumsy but you quickly retrieved the com without pulling on your side too much.
“‘ucky?” a cough. “‘ucky.” You tried but your mouth couldn't form the letter ‘b’. How pathetic.
“Thank god, sweet girl.” The sounds of him huffing - clearly running - and gunshots behind him were now clearer as the piece sat snugly in your ear. It sat better than ever now it was covered in a sticky substance. “I was worried the team had left me.”
Team? Oh that was right. There was a team of highly skilled agents and you were their connection to SHIELD. You were their escape route. You needed to move.
“Where- where are they?”
“I don't know. No one's been on this line since 22:00.”
You took a deep breath. That was before the altercation. You'd been set up in this radio tower to feed information to the team, to tell them when the guards were changing, if they had upgraded any of their weapons, your job was basically to sit back and wait. To try to help if needed.
And then they noticed you. They noticed doors were being unlocked and machines were powered down. A trio came looking for you. Two were downed in the hall, because you'd heard on their radio frequency that they were coming but the third managed to get in. Managed to get you on the ground in a scramble. Clearly managed to get you in the side. It didn't feel like a gunshot but you don't recall a knife. Speaking of - where is he? Your head rolled to the left - a broken window and rotting wall - and then the right - the edge of the ancient console - and then you extended your neck to see he was slumped behind.
Thank god, you were in no condition to fight.
“Evac point A is overrun.”
That was twice now you'd forgotten you were here to do a job.
“Has SHIELD made contact? Where's the jet?”
Had they? “Unclear. I'll try to connect again.”
Fuck. Why couldn't you have landed closer to the console?
“I'll need to go to evac point B.” He called over the sound of an explosion. “What's the best route?”
You cried out as you attempted to roll onto your side. “You'll.. you'll have to find cover and wait for me. I don't know the best- they've got bases at all sides I need to-”
“Cover?” He roared in disbelief.
“I can't presently give you the information you need.” You panted, psyching yourself up to roll again.
“Wh-are you okay?” The juxtaposition in his tone was almost laughable.
“Fine.” You grit your teeth and flop gracefully over. “The- the console’s ‘eing funny.”
He was silent for a few beats but did eventually speak, “radio silence ‘til I say.” Then the line was dead.
That was fine by you. Allowed you the opportunity to be as pathetic with your movements as possible. The console being no more than three meters away but felt as though it was three football stadiums.
You panted and cursed and yelled, sweat poured down your temples and mixed with your tears and spit.
It only occurred to you when you were a quarter of the way there that you could die here. You likely would. Bucky would be the last person you spoke to.
Now the radio silence was a curse.
You didn't want to die alone.
No.
No, you wouldn't die.
Not here.
Fuck them!
Fuck everyone!
You weren't going to die in this shithole.
You crawled slowly to the console with a quiet fire lighting the way. You were no quicker but were now fueled by spite.
Each stretch of your arm pulled at your side and then you had to drag your body forward which pinched it.
Your eyes scanned the floor and you sent a silent prayer to anyone that would listen: please don't let there be anything deadly on the ground. It was covered in glass, debris and mixed blood, there were bullet shells and open wires.
Your com crackled to life and you jumped, silently screaming at the tugging sensation.
“How's the console?” He whispered into your ear.
Within reach was the real answer. Fuck him. He knew. “Yeah, still here. Still being funny.” At least you could pronounce “being” correctly.
“Any news on the evac?” His tone was still hushed.
“Where are you?” You hauled yourself closer.
“In a tree.” The laugh that erupted from your gut was worth all the pain. “Shut up.” He warned but you could tell he was smiling.
You were now there. At the console. Fingers brushing the base.
But this was the hard part.
“Bare with me a sec.” You muttered as you hoisted your torso up. It took a few attempts but you eventually sat on your butt.
You were able to reach the old school com. They had it connected to bulky headphones and the mic didn't really work but you'd try. You have to.
Flipping whatever was in reach you eventually set the dial to the right frequency and begged.
“Ramirez? Connor? Hardy? Sillett? Boswell?” The line stayed dead after you repeated every name. You groaned, changing the frequency. “Coming in. SHIELD. We have a code 445. Need emergency evac at point B.”
Silence.
“Anything doll?” Bucky prompted.
“No.” Your eyes flickered across the console. There were bullet holes, old and new, some dials were present and others had missing knobs, only a few lights actually worked. It had been fine earlier, well no but it was usable! The fucker that got you must've shot at it as well. “Pretty sure it's dead.” You caught something. “Wait, mayb- I can try that.”
You pulled the chair you'd previously abandoned closer and attempted to use it to stand. The legs skidded across the floor and you went with it.
“Hey what's happening?” He asked after hearing you curse.
“Just shshsh.” You try again and instead of landing on your face you’re able to sit on the rickety chair. “I'm remembering morse code.”
“Mors- we're dead.” He let out a humorless laugh as you fiddled with the connections, it looked like it was the only working thing in this tower.
“You'll be alright.” You tapped the key forming a simple sentence and hoped to god the right person would hear. ‘SHIELD. URGENT EVAC B. SHIELD. URGENT EVAC B.’
You continuously tapped the message - zoning out from your surroundings out of boredom or blood loss - forgetting yourself but Bucky coughed and you were sucked back into the room. Back into the mission. “I think I s-saw some old maps earlier, I can try and help with t’ route.”
He let out a sigh. “How bad are you hit?”
Fuck. “Well it's no’ great.” Taaap. Tap. Tap.
“Any response?”
“Not presently.” Your eyelids were getting heavy now. It was difficult to keep them open. Why did you need them open? “There's always someone down in the dungeon, waiting for secret messages.”
He huffed in response. You were right, there usually was some poor bastard in the bunker listening for telegrams and mapping crop circles.
The weight of your eyelids had transferred to your forehead. Your neck struggled to keep it upright. It would be easier if you could just rest it, just place it delicately on the console, and then you can focus all your energy on the message.
“You could try north.” You muttered, fighting the internal battle to stay upright.
“North?”
“The bases are more spora’ic up north.” Cough. “More cover.” Tap. Tap. Tap. Taaap.
“Where are your coordinates?”
As if your brain could calculate that. “I do- I think west.” Tap. Tap.
That was weird. When he sighed you could feel it. You frown and raise your head.
Oh.
He was sitting next to you on your sofa. In your home. Wearing a black tee and gray tracksuit bottoms.
“I think I could get to you.” He nodded more to himself than you. “I'm sure of it.” His hair was clean and tied back with one of your old scrunchies.
“I don't see how.”
“I'm not leaving you behind.” He vowed, his hand covering your own. You knew realistically you were tapping your fingers on the key but his warm digits felt so real, so true.
“Just. Just distract me?” You couldn't add 'from my imminent death' but you could force a weak smile. “Please.”
“I don't know if I can.” His jaw set but you could see the debate in his eyes.
“Please Bucky.”
A moment passed before the words “I would've taken you dancing.” came out. He looked as shocked as you felt before his shoulders relaxed and he eased into the conversation. “If I met you in the 40s. I would've loved to take you dancing.” That sounded amazing. Dancing with him. “I wasn't amazing at the jive but I bet with you as a partner we'd be killer.”
“Cat's pajamas.” You must've blinked because he was now clean shaven and his hair was cropped, he wore a button down shirt and slacks. But he was still Bucky. Still your friend.
“Yeah.” He eagerly agreed. “We'd have met at Sal's, got a coke when you'd finally decided to take me up on the offer. Or we'd have gone to the fair. I loved Ferris Wheels.” His eyes left yours and he was lost in thought. “I don't think I'd like them any more.”
Heights.
He didn't like heights.
He dealt with them but he didn't like them.
You'd had many conversations about his fears, trying to help him cope with his new reality but he never quite got over heights.
“We could dance now.” You muttered to distract him, not fully realizing your words and how impossible they were. “We could find somewhere to danc’.”
“You'd wanna go dancing with me?” One eyebrow twitched and he had a coy smirk.
You let out a hum in affirmative before mumbling a very low, “always.”
“I don't know why I haven't thought to ask you. I-” He cut himself off. “Well, you’ve always been the- You're my partner in and out of missions. You're my best friend. Even when I was shitty and awful and I didn't want you to be. Yo- I'm only here because of you.” His blue eyes came back to you, and they were glittering. The whites, a vague pink color illuminating the blue even further.
You felt his hand on yours tighten but it was different. It was hard. Consistent. Like a heartbeat. Like-
“Bucky they responded!” You jolt up from the console, interrupting his next words, and zoned in on the letters.
“Bucky, get to number B!” You ordered, squinting at your watch. “They're coming. You have about 40 minutes.”
“What about you?” He hadn't moved. You knew he hadn't. He was far too stubborn. “Where is your location?”
“I'm in t’ tower.” The words came out slurred. Wow. You really hadn't realized how much energy staying alive took. Now your job was done, maybe you could rest?
“But the others checked- you can't still be in the same tower.”
“‘ingo.”
“That doesn't mak-”
“37 minutes.” You breathily corrected the earlier statement, brain catching up with the math. “Now it's 35.”
“Just-”
“Please.” Your voice was smaller than you hoped. “I don't want you to-” gulp. “-aswell. Please just be safe.”
“But they checked the tower. The last message was that it was empty!” He was climbing now, you could tell. His breathing had changed.
“‘aybe it wasn't ‘em.” If you could shrug you would've. “No r'ponse since.”
“I'm going to evac point B and then I'm coming with the jet to you.”
“Wha’ woul’ we've 'anced to?” The words were so jumbled and far too quiet but he understood.