Characters: King T’Challa, female Reader, Natasha Romanoff, *former* King T’Chaka, *mentioned* Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark etc.
Pairing: King T’Challa x Reader
Warnings: Slooooowww burn, takes a long time (3155 words to be precise), SMUT (eventually)
Plot: Set during Civil War, reader is part of the Avengers and meets T’Challa at the signing of the Accords (Sorry anyone on Team Cap but for the purpose of the fic Reader is Team Iron Man) and slowly gets to know him and get closer to him as events unfold…
You shuffled nervously, rubbing your arm and looking anywhere but at another person. Natasha was beside you looking as confident and beautiful as ever; oh, how you envied her cool, collected persona. After what happened in Lagos you were struggling to cope with the guilt that was practically eating you alive, and having that paranoid feeling that everyone was talking about you – judging you. And, why wouldn’t they? You killed so many innocent people because you weren’t there to help Wanda… accident or not you still caused their deaths and that fact was weighing heavily on your conscience.
“Excuse me, Ms Romanoff, Miss y/l/n. These need your signatures” A young brunette asked as you and Natasha waited. After you both signed your names, you heard the deep rumbling if a man’s voice.
“I suppose neither of us is used to the spotlight.” You and Nat turned to see the Wakandan prince, T’Challa.
For christmas, Natasha gives each of the Avengers scrapbooks. And at first everyone is sort of snickering because, scrapbooks, Nat? Really? But then they realize that a lot of the photos are from cell phones and private files and security footage stills, and some are even from internationally classified documents, and suddenly everyone is way too intimidated to mock Nat's scrapbooking skills anymore. (Also, she hand-cuts hella cute borders and stuff).
Oh my god I love this though, because it combines a) Natasha, secret artist with b) Natasha, really bad at personal boundaries and also c) Natasha, is she trolling or is she really, sincerely trying? hard to say, the Red Room was a weird place and personal boundaries probably weren’t really a thing. Natasha is really bad at turning off the spy thing and I like the idea that she just kind of hoards information and things and doesn’t really think about it and then is like “oh hey, I can make a nice personal thing for my friends! :D” and those two things collide beautifully.
I bet Natasha would make beautiful scrapbooks. They’d be personalized and reflect the kinds of things a person would want to remember really well and at the same time it would be like “how did you know this never mind I don’t want to ask” and probably she means well but it is also possible she is fucking with you and you will never know.
Clint, meanwhile, is just like “thanks, Nat!” paging cheerfully through his because he got one of these the last two years and it’s just one of those Natasha things he’s learned to roll with
so, natasha is now of my dream roles ever since i saw great comet (thankfully before it closed) and i was discussing it with my friends and was immediately shot down. they said i couldn't play natasha bc i'm a white, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl and called me a racist for even thinking about wanting to play her? is it true that i can't play natasha bc of my skin color?
Oof. As a white person, I’m probably the wrong person to ask. I’ll answer with my personal opinion.
It was only five months (Y/N) had been transferred to New York to join SHIELD’s main group, then being adopted by Tony and Bruce after they discovered her scientific side. She was intelligent to the point of leaving Tony speechless, almost no one could leave the billionaire that way. Despite the height is less than Natasha, (Y/N) could sometimes be more agile. She was beautiful, both physically and personality, managing to attract looks and praise from everyone who were lucky enough to meet her. She could make anyone smile, she could talk for hours about anything and always had an interest in discovering something new. But (Y/N) was not around and it seemed that all the brightness was gone with her.
Two days before
Steve was in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee while reading the newspaper distractedly when (Y/N) entered like a hurricane, her laughter breaking the silence and attracting super soldier’s attention. She took her finger to her lips before hiding behind the counter, soon after Tony appeared completely wet at the doorframe. The eyes of the billionaire scanned the kitchen, pausing for a moment at Steve, who just nodded to where she was.
“No use to hide!” Tony chuckled, crossing the kitchen to where (Y / N) were and making her drop a little cry before starting to laugh.
“Steve, you snitch!” the young one with a swift movement pulled away from the brunette and jumped the counter, going to the blonde with hands on hips “This is way to treat a woman, Rogers?”
“Hm What?” Super soldier was caught by surprise, the smile was on his lips fading slightly.
“It could be something serious! Could be Tony’s evil clone wanting to kill me to keep secret that he is not the original Tony!” (Y / N) continued to speak theatrically, pretending to be offended and pulling a laugh from both men.
“Kido, enough scientific films for you this week.” Tony took the right hand to her hair, ruffling it in a caring act before leaving the kitchen. “And you’re grounded, no laboratory today for you. ”
(Y/N) rolled her eyes, mumbling a little grunt with the way Tony treated her, he really act like a father without even noticing. Steve pulled a chair beside him for her, and she automatically sat and smiled at the blond. They stood for a moment in silence facing each other, their cheeks taking a light shade of pink before both oh them were scared with a explosion
coming from the laboratory..
One day before
(Y/N) really enjoyed Steve’s company, just as the super soldier liked hers. She had a different friendship with him compared to other avengers, she felt that could show her clumsy side that still existed and he felt that didn’t need to hide how out of place he thought he was. Neither of them would think of judging. Everyone around them had already noticed that what they had was not just friendship, but (Y / N) and Steve were always too absorbed with the presence of the other to notice that fact.
Steve, Natasha, Clint and (Y/N) spent the day training and preparing for the next mission, they needed to get a base of a smuggler of heavy weapons, pick up all the intel and then put the base on the ground. It was something simple if it were not for the ridiculous amount of men in the huge maze that was the place.
“It’s a trap!” (Y / N) called the comm, running through the long maze of corridors with four men behind her, she had managed to down two before she could notice what was happening. “It’s a trap! Everybody out of the building!”
“(Y / N), where are you?” Steve muttered rough, his heavy breathing fully with the effort he was making to bring down some men.
“I’m almost out of the heart of that damned maze.” the girl jumped some furniture, rolling on the ground to divert some thorns darts that were thrown her way. “It’s a damn mutant army! Goddamnit!”
“I’m going to you.” she can hear the sound of something breaking and screams as Steve grunting during the fight. “Try to find a safe place (Y / N)”
“There are four mutants shooting thorns and fire at me, Steve!” the youngest cried exasperated by alien idea, she could hear through the comm the others struggling to get out.
“(Y/N), just missing you and Steve to get out of there!“ Natasha said after a while, making a sudden movement (Y / N) hung the chandelier, turning her body to hit the head of one of the mutants causing an audible ‘crack’.
“Steve get the hell out of here. NOW” (Y / N) cries out in desperation, she had turned another hallway and entered a huge party room … which was completely surrounded by mutants waiting for her. A trap. “Just don’t forget to pick me up later.”
Before Steve and Natasha, or any other avenger could say anything, (Y / N) snatched the comm and threw it on the ground, stepping hard. The dial tone was deadly and painful, but they didn’t need to know that seconds after (Y / N) was down on her knees screaming in pain.
It was really hard to take Steve from the base, but was even more difficult to have to leave (Y / N) behind. No one imagined that when they returned they wouldn’t find traces of the army or her. Everyone worked beyond overtime to tryed to find her, they were all afraid of what might happen with her. The tower was pure tension, Steve blamed himself for failing to save her to the point of not being able to eat. It was the second week when Tony and Natasha managed to find the traces of where (Y / N) was. They wouldn’t waste another second, getting dressed and going to the huge
In the middle of the courtyard, as if waiting for the arrival of the avengers, (Y/N) was with her arms
over her head, slightly hanging because she had no strength to stand. She was practically unconscious, had lost too much blood and inflicted more pain than her body could endure. An
animalistic grunt escaped from Steve when he saw her that way, instinctively reacting he went on to attack all who were in his way, without worrying about just leaving them unconscious, he felt satisfied only when his shield made the hollow noise when something broke.
“(Y / N)? Can you hear me? I came to take you home, doll.“ Steve took her in his arms as gentle as possible while Tony let go of the chains. (Y / N) groaned in pain with the new movement, after so long in the same position. Soon the voices were getting confused for her and everything went black.
(Y / N) wasn’t sure how long she had slept, but when she opened her eyes she noticed that she was in one of the hospital’s room from the Tower. When she tried to move, (Y/N) felt that something was holding her hand. Turning her face she noticed that was someone, being more accurate, Steve was holding her hand while he was asleep sitting in a chair beside the bed.
“Steve? Rogers? Captain!” she tried to call him despite the hoarse and weak voice, squeezing his hand with her little strength she had at the moment.
“(Y/N)?” Steve muttered sleepily, but noting that she had wake up he quickly straightened in his chair to look it better at her "Heavens, you awake! How are you feeling, doll?”
“I’m… I’m okay now.” she smiled a little, gently pulling his hand “Sit here with me?”
Steve nodded, rising from his chair and sitting in the space (Y / N) left for him. They stayed for a moment in silence, staring at each other and admiring themselves. The super soldier caressed her cheek carefully before placing a strand of hair behind her ear, gestures that made
(Y / N)’s heart beats fast making the machine connected to her whistle fiercely. (Y / N) strongly blushed, biting her lower and breaking the contact to divert her eyes to the ground.
“Stupid machine… “ she mumbled softly, Steve smiled with her shy way and found it cute.
“(Y/N)… I am very happy to have you back, I missed you.” he said quietly, leaning in to kiss the top of her head. “
"Steve … I … I like you.” (Y / N) confessed under her breath, the feeling was what had helped her to keep some sanity while being tortured.
“I also like you, doll. You’re everything to me.” gently holding
(Y / N)’s chin to make her face him, Steve leaned again to finally kiss her lips.
They felt safe. They felt love. They felt like home.
A/N : MANY of you have asked for me to write out these two imagines and turn them into a fic. I decided to put them together into one! I hope you like it :)
Warning : cursing, angst, smut!!
It was just an ordinary day. You and Dean decided to watch the avengers in the bunker, eating a crap load of snacks while you waited for Sam to return from wherever he was.
You were okay, being alone with Dean. He was your best friend but also the love of your life. He was everything to you and though you wish you could tell him how you felt, you knew nothing would come out of it, due to the mark.
But here you are, enjoying a nice afternoon, watching a movie until…
Imagine Bucky’s first Christmas back with Steve and the Avengers.
They briefed him on this weeks in advance: it’s an important tradition, an opportunity for the whole family to get together and enjoy each other’s company. There’s a pine tree shedding needles in the living room and a row of giant socks hanging off the mantelpiece, embroidered with the names of each of the team in turn. Sam has spent the past week dousing his fruitcake in brandy; Natasha has sweaters for each of them, big and bright and gaudy.
Bucky doesn’t understand what all the fuss is about. Hydra used to celebrate Christmas, sometimes: the STRIKE team would all dress up in impractical head gear and get blind rotten drunk, belting out bawdy carols and demanding he sing along once he’d deciphered the words. Once, one of the junior agents tried to force a red felt hat onto his head. He has a vague memory of trying to strangle the idiot with it, and a slightly less vague memory of being punished for his ‘fucking grinch bullshit, see, this is why no one ever bothers being nice to you’.
This year things are a little different. For one, he has had to relearn most of his carols: according to Steve Santa never had an AK-47, and Rudolph survived the entire length of the song. ‘Back Door Santa’ has been struck off the list altogether, in both its original and STRIKE-augmented forms.
He does his best to get it all right, though. If Christmas is a time for expressing gratitude, then Bucky has a lot to be grateful for: he’s never been safer or warmer than he is here, curled up night after night in his soft bed with a full belly and a cosy blanket to keep the winter cold at bay. He has done all his Christmas shopping online, and poured all his professional expertise into choosing the most useful gifts possible for everyone: top-quality body armour for Steve, who is forever getting unnecessarily shot on missions; brand new aviator goggles for Sam; a beautiful automatic pistol for Natasha; an assortment of handy gadgets and personal defense weapons for the rest of the team. He does all the gift-wrapping himself, and add them all to the growing pile beneath the tree.
(He ignores the fact that a couple of the other parcels have his name written on them. Probably someone wrote the wrong name by mistake. It happens, in a building as busy as Avengers Tower.)
Christmas morning dawns bright and cold. Bucky stays curled beneath his blankets for a little while, watching the snowflakes drift past his window and listening to the clamour and bustle of Tony’s caterers already hard at work in the kitchen downstairs. Apparently there is going to be an enormous lunch later today: turkey and ham and roast vegetables and pudding, a menu that tugs at Bucky’s memory without ever really catching on anything. (“It’s okay,” Sam has told him. “The important thing is that you eat until you can’t even move. Don’t listen to anything Steve’s been telling you about the spirit of generosity or whatever - that’s what Christmas is really for.”)
He hears movement outside in the hall, but it doesn’t really occur to him to pay attention until a gentle rap sounds at his door. It’s Steve, dressed in his itchy Christmas sweater and grinning from ear to ear. "Merry Christmas, Buck. We’re getting ready to open presents - you want to come join us?“
The whole team is assembled around the tree in the living room, yawning and rubbing their eyes and tugging at the sleeves of their sweaters. Nobody looks very awake yet, but all of them are smiling at each other as Sam - who is grinning widest of all beneath his fake white beard - hands out the parcels to their proper recipients.
"Hey, look who’s joining us! Catch,” says Sam, and tosses a little parcel at Bucky. Bucky catches it, and stares.
“It’s for you,” Steve tells him. “From all of us.” Bucky stares down at the package, then back around the room; everyone is staring back at him expectantly. Nobody is smirking; nobody looks confused or annoyed or mocking. It isn’t a joke. Everyone else has a parcel in their hands, and nobody has unwrapped the paper yet. They’ve all been waiting. For him.
And so, with hands that tremble just a little, Bucky carefully unfolds the wrapping of the very first present he ever remembers receiving.
I am definitely still in GIVE ME ALL THE CAPTAIN AMERICA FICS mode, which means, hey, here, have some more! I’m still largely looking for post-CA2 fics, but I’m also happy with speculation fic and anything that focuses on the main four and preferably anything long. I mean, look, it’s been a week since it’s been out in the US, clearly you all should have had plenty of time to write me at least a dozen more 10k+ fics. Like, at this rate, I may have to wander over to FFNET and nobody wants that, least of all me, okay.
But I’m really glad because this movie and this fandom have made me really fall in love with Steve as a character, like, he has a sense of humor and kind of crotchety but still a really solidly good-hearted person who likes to be nice to people! And it has Natasha figuring herself out and being badass but just beginning to understand herself as a person! And Sam who is honestly perfect in every single way! And, oh, my Bucky feelings are ridiculous, like, he was made into this horrible thing against his will and yet he still has the instincts to protect and save Steve and I just– I may spend all my time crying about these dumbs, but it’s still worth it.
He is the Winter Soldier. He is James Buchanan Barnes. He’s not one and he’s not the other, and he’s not sure if that makes him anything worth saving. In which the Winter Soldier leads Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson on a wild goose chase through Eastern Europe so that he can learn more about the man who actually thinks he can be saved.
“It’s been two weeks,” Natasha says, pressing a coffee cup into Steve’s hand. “How long are we going to do this?” Steve watches the steam curl into question marks above his cup. “I know he’s still in there,” he says, and that’s that.
She is a beautiful and cute girl. She is a wonderful and charming actress. She is incredible and amazing singer. She has a wonderful sense of humor which is understandable not for everyone, but it does not matter. She has a beautiful smile. She has fascinating and powerful voice. She has contagious laugh. She knows how to play the piano. She loves animals. Sometimes when she wears glasses she becomes very pretty. She knows how to squint with one eye. She is a wonderful and good person.