#( accepting offerings | answered | thor )

[salvagedsouls]

tag dump nine!!

ft. sof, steve, thor, & tony ♥

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Old Scars, New Blood 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, borderline bullying, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has accepted that she’ll never be wanted, not only by the man she’s crushed on for years, but by anyone. That is until a new player enters the game. (f!, short!reader)

Character: Lloyd Hansen, Thor Odinson

Note: I hope you all have a great day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The rest of the drive is spent in silence, at least on your end. Lloyd chews loudly, licking his chops, and sucking his fingers loudly. The rose tint is tinged gray.

You pull into the compound and shift into park sharply. You don't move as you wait for Lloyd to get out. He wastes no time ditching you, letting out a shameless belch as he drops down onto the ground. The door snaps shut behind him and you huff.

You look over at the garbage left in his place. That's exactly where you belong. Right there with the trash.

You swipe up the crumple bag filled with wrappers and his half-finished soda. The keys jingle against the paper cup as you swipe your phone out behind you. You dump what's left of the espresso from your own cup and sheath it around the other.

You elbow the door shut and cross the dark grounds. The moon is a sliver that offers little light in the dark. You approach the doors and enter to the muted ruckus of voices and clinking bottles. Yet another night of debauchery. You don't know how Lloyd hasn't fallen right in with his guests.

You go to the kitchen and jam the bag and cups deep in the bin. You have half the mind to go through the fridge and get rid of all those meals you slaved over. Just like everything else, he'll spit it back in your face.

You flip open the door and stop yourself. No, no, he got the reaction he wanted, you're only shooting your own foot at this point. 

Your eyes center on a dark bottle with a silver label. Fuck it. You snatch the prosecco and swing the fridge shut.

You march back down the hall and ignore the din that seeps through from the dining room and various other doorways. You go upstairs to your room and close yourself in, letting the wood slam into the frame. You're not even mad at him, you're furious at yourself. Why can't you just accept it?

You drop the keys on the dresser, your phone too, and keep the bottle in hand. You untwist the wire around the cork and toss it aside. You push with your thumb until it pops and a fizzle escapes the long neck. 

You watch the wisp that rises and you gulp straight from the bottle. You cringe as your eyes water from bubbles and the stringently sweet wine floods your mouth. You gulp until you can't anymore. A quarter of the bottle down, you plunk it on the nightstand and let it sink into your veins.

You undress lazily and leave your clothes on the floor. You don't give a fuck. For one night, you just don't want to think. Hell, if you drink enough, you might just do something real stupid.

You grab the bottle and carry it into the bathroom. As you bend over to twist the faucet, the wine creeps into your brain, hazing your vision in warmth. You pull the lever for the stopper and slowly push yourself straight.

You lean on the porcelain and take another swig. You pop your mouth off the rim and lift one leg, then the other. You ease into the tub, splashing slightly as the water flows higher and higher.

You lean your head back, resting the bottle against the edge as you grip it tight. The ripples around you and beneath the skin and numb the ache in your chest. You close your eyes, drinking without thinking, guzzling until your stomach is full and the tub is nearly full.

You lay as you are, basking in the heat of the water. You could fall asleep right there. Just drift beneath the surface.

That thought jerks you awake. You sit up, dizzy, and get to your knees clumsily. You reach over the side to clunk the bottle onto the tile. You flip the stopper and lift yourself.

You get out, feet crashing onto the bathmat. You cling to the tub and take a breath. You reach for the bar and drag the towel off. You don't feel too bad, just a bit unsteady.

You wrap yourself up and teeter as you bend to grab the bottle. You clamber towards the door. You nudge it all the way open with your elbow.

As you enter the room, you stagger to a halt. You don't expect the figure sitting on your bed, watching you enter as he faces the bathroom door. You blink and squeeze the bottle tighter. 

You're buzzed. No, you're drunk.

You skin singes with self-awareness. Not only of the alcohol that dulls your mind but of the single piece of fabric around you.

“It's not healthy to drink alone,” Thor grins, a paper crinkles between his fingers, “or other things.”

He shows the slip of paper and you shake your head. He clicks his tongue and squints at it, “didn't take you for a cherry girl.”

“Huh?” You tilt your head, confused until you recall hastily hiding away the receipt in your pants. Fuck.

“I don't really use lube myself. Don't need it,” he reaches to drop the paper on the night table.

“What are you…” you clamp your lips shut as a hiccup rises. You swallow it and sway. 

“I don't make promises I don't keep, “ he stands, towering over you as he comes closer.

“You… it was a joke, wasn't it?” You babble dumbly.

“Why would I joke about that?” He stops before you and wraps his hand around the bottle, “mm, not much for bubbly,” he wiggles it free and swiftly empties what's left before examining the empty bottle, “how was your little business trip, eh?”

You frown and cross your arms over the top of the towel, “why are you here?” You ask again.

“I told you–”

“No, why… why did you come here? He hates you.”

“I got that sense of him,” Thor chortles, “doesn't bother me much.” He backs away and sets the bottle on the receipt, “I'm here to play with him. Have a bit of fun. However, he's not as amusing as I hoped. But you…”

“I…” you shake your head, “I'm drunk. I need to lay down.”

“Happily,” he winks as he reaches for you.

You sidle away, “please, I…” you swallow and your eyes flit around, “I can't–”

“Because of him? You’re wasting your time,” he latches onto your hand and draws it away from your chest, “he doesn't deserve you, little lamb.”

“I don't… it isn't because of him…”

“You're a poor liar,” he tuts, “shouldn't take your lessons from him.”

“Stop,” you try to tug away.

“You don't know what you need,” he drags you towards the bed, “it isn't him.”

“Please,” you whimper.

“You don't need to be nervous, I can be nice, kitten,” he purrs as he yanks you against him.

“I can't–” you squeak into a yelp as the towel falls away from your body, “Thor, please–”

“Louder,” he swiftly picks you up with his hands on your ass. 

You writhe against him as he spins and falls with you onto the mattress. It bounces under you and you nearly choke on your tongue. You slap his chest as he leans over you and smothers your mouth with his.

You close your eyes as they tingle and you dig your nails into the fabric of his shirt. You whimper and feel around with your other hand as he kneads your ass. You're overcome by his brusqueness. More so, you can't handle the touch, the way his hot breath consumes you, and that flicker on your core that has the vision of another flashing in your mind.

You turn your head and let out a croak as your tears leak out, “I can't,” you whine, “you're right, okay? I want him. I'm a stupid girl that wants someone like him.”

You bring your hand up to shield your face as he lifts himself on his elbow. He hovers over you as you devolve into sobs, “I'm pathetic.”

“Shhhh,” the soft stroke along your cheek startles you, “little kitty,” he slithers, “shhh.”

He shifts and comes down to his side. He slips his arm under your neck as you curl up, trying to disappear. He rolls you towards him so your face is against his shoulder. He pets your head as he holds you.

“Oh, little one,” he cooes, “it hurts now… but I can make it so much better.”

He stays like that, embracing you as you quake in your despair. You keep your face buried against his shirt as his thick muscles fill you with a sense of security. His other hand rests on your hip but does not wander.

Heaviness drapes over you and your body slowly slackens. The wine dulls your nerves and swirls in your head. You feel yourself spiraling and quickly fade into the void.

❤️‍🩹

Your brow twitches and your nose itches. You nearly smack yourself as you throw your hand up and groan. The effort makes you wince.

Ugh, hungover. It's been a while.

You bend your leg and the blanket falls away to uncover your naked thigh. You frown and peek down as you lift the blanket. No clothes. You blanch and lay back, trying to summon the memories of the previous night.

The buzzing of the shower draws your attention away from your internal search. Along with the thrum is the deep baritone singing a song you've never heard. You blink, long and hard, and push yourself up.

Your heart feels as if it's stopped beating. Your breath catches and you look around the room. There's clothing hung over the chair in the corner. Men's clothes.

Oh god.

You wouldn't…

As the melody carries, slightly offkey, you recognise the singer. Thor. Oh. Oh no.

You curl your fingers against the mattress, barely able to hold yourself up. You remember the bath and then him waiting and him on top of you but everything else is gone. How can you not remember? 

A pit plunges down to your stomach. No, you're not like that. You've held out all these years…

Well, how many chances did you really get?

The shower cranks off and you gulp, hugging the blanket against your chest as you sidle around to the edge of the bed. You can hear him moving around, humming. You don't know what to do.

As the door opens, you try to think of what to say. Hi, good morning, what the heck happened last night?

You're speechless as he emerges butt naked. Brazen as he has himself on full display. Full display.

You snap your mouth shut as he uses a towel to dry his hair and winks as he drops it down to wrap his waist. 

“Morning, kitten,” he growls, “you seem chipper.”

You try to talk but can only cough. You reach to touch your throat and rub the lump free, “Thor, what… last night…” your voice cracks with each syllable.

“Ha, you think we…” he lets the suggestion dangle and scoffs.

You nod. Of course, he's all bluster. He wouldn't actually want you.

“When it happens, you will remember it,” he taunts, “I like to build up to sleep fucking.”

Your jaw falls open, “Thor…”

“Besides, if anything had happened, you would remember it.”

“I…” you flutter your lashes, “I should–”

“Well here you are,” he knots the towel around his waist, “lucid…”

“...get dressed,” you complete your previous threat.

You stand but he blocks you easily. He catches your shoulders and urges you back. Your legs hit the mattress and you sit, unable to fight his strength.

“Now?” You squeak.

He rumbles with laughter as his hands trail down your arms, “just a taste. To pep me up for the day.”

“Uhhh,” your voice rolls out senselessly as his hand crawls over the blanket and he tugs it. You cling to it desperately. 

He snarls and yanks up the bottom, tossing it over his head as he seizes your thighs beneath. You yelp as he bows and pulls your legs apart. You lose hold of the blanket and it rumples at your waist as you catch yourself on the heels of your hands.

You wriggle and try to resist him as his head pokes up beneath the blankets. He has you leaning back on your arms as he pulls your legs over his shoulders. You lift a hand and slap his head as you realise what he's about to do.

Too late.

Your hand falls against his head as his hot breath tingles along your thighs. His cool tongue slips between your folds and you gasp, electricity coursing through you. Oh!

You let out a pathetic noise as you push futilely on his head, still writhing as he nuzzles further into you. His large tongue spreads wide and he flicks it up over your clit. You spasm and yipe in surprise at another zing.

“Thor,” you breathe.

He pulls back for just an instant, “louder, kitten, can't hear you under here.”

He dives back in and the bed bounces as you jolt. You try to smack him again but only urge him. You gasp and quiver helplessly, toes curling and legs tingling. What do you do?

Oh god, what can you do? This is better than any toy you got hidden in your nightstand. This is an actual man. It's real and it feels so good.

He wraps his arms around your legs and rips you down onto your back as he lifts your pelvis higher. He hums into you and it ripples up to your chest. You hiss and slap the bed as lay defeated.

“Ohhhhh,” you drone out as you succumb to the delightful swirls.

He growls and your breath hitches. He turns his head, just for a moment, and nips your thigh, “louder…”

You mewl and utter his name. It's as much a plea for him to keep going as it is for him to stop. He laps at you again and you cry out. That seems to fuel his fervour as he suckles at you eagerly. 

Your voice rises without your permission. Your whines burst from you as you claw at the blanket and squirm. You can't hold back. It's more than just that moment, it's years of waiting, of wanting.

You don't care that it's not who you wanted. You don't care if anyone else hears. You can't think straight enough for any of that as you call out Thor’s name, bucking your hips desperately into an orgasm.

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Siren reader getting courted by Thor, Loki, Posaiden, Hades, Buddha, Hermes, Jack, Lu Bu, Raiden, Kojiro, and Chen Gong

Siren courting rituals are, gifting scales and shells, catching prey and showing off your catch, biting and head butting, wrestling 

Sirens have incredibly sharp teeth

-You were absolutely stunning, long flowing H/C hair, large and inquisitive E/C eyes, and a voice that could enchant anyone, even when you weren’t singing.

-He remembers the day he found you down by the ocean, you were just sunning yourself, enjoying the warm sunshine when you heard footsteps and you turned, seeing this unknown man there.

-You were ready to bolt, leaping back into the sea, but you didn’t, something told you to pause, that he wasn’t a threat, at least to you as he greeted you, waving his hand at you lightly. You looked down at your own hand, confused at what he was doing before you mimicked him, waving back.

-That was the start of your odd relationship with (Love), who came to see you almost every day and you would wait until he’s sitting on your sunning rock before your head would pop out from the ocean, making sure it was safe before you greeted him, and he returned it.

-He was very gentle with you, carefully holding your hand, inspecting your webbed fingers or playing with your long hair, braiding for you (if he had long enough hair you did the same for him), and just sitting and talking with you.

-However, recently, you’ve been acting a bit odd, bumping your head against his shoulder and head, not hurting him, more like you were nudging him, and giving him beautiful shells that you found.

-He was initially confused by your actions, but accepted your gifts with a warm smile, thanking you warmly which elated you.

-You would bring him fish that you caught and if he allowed you to hold onto his hand, you would nibble on his wrist, not hurting him, but confusing him once again.

-It wasn’t until Triton approached him with a friendly grin, “So you’re the one that Y/N has been courting!” (Love) was stunned to learn that all of your actions were courting actions, showing your affections to him!

-Triton was amused by his reaction but offered some insight, that (Love) would either need to respond himself with a gift of his own or reject your gifts to reject you as a mate, which would stop the behavior.

-(Love) realized that rejecting you might result in you leaving and never coming back, and he didn’t want that. He thanked Triton for the insight before heading off.

-He arrived back the following day with a gift box for you, holding his answer and when he gave you the box, you were confused, “What is this?” he just smiled and told you to open it.

-Inside was a bracelet, made of silver metal with a sparkling lapis lazuli stone in the center, making your eyes instantly go wide, seeing the gift.

-He wasn’t prepared for your screechy squeal, leaping up and into his arms, knocking him back, your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly which made him chuckle warmly, hugging you back. He stroked your long hair before speaking, “You know, if you’re courting me, you should let me know, I don’t know all of your customs.” You paused, pulling back and realizing this, your cheeks instantly warmly as you laughed off your embarrassment. You were so cute.

            -Chen Gon, Kojiro, Buddha, Raiden, Loki, and Hermes

-Your hug sent you both into the shallow water, drenching the both of you but he didn’t mind, hugging you back as you were practically vibrating with joy, “I’m so happy!!” He smiled softly, leaning back into the sand, holding you to him, “I am too, just let me know next time you’re courting me, I don’t know much about the customs of sirens.” You blinked lightly, leaning up before you realized that he wasn’t a siren, he wouldn’t know about your customs. He thought your embarrassment was cute as he pulled you back down, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

            -Thor, Hades, Jack, and Poseidon

[mischievoushiddleston]

Christmas Wishes

Pairing: Loki/Reader

Warnung: Smut, Couch Sex, Rough Sex

Materlist Here!

"Are you sure it's okay if you stay here? You can come with me and Vision too," Wanda offered Y/N gently, making her smile as she shook her head.

"Wanda, it's really fine for me to stay here, besides who else is going to watch the Grinch?" she asked with amusement, "I promised Tony for this and I'm honestly glad I have a job other than sorting letters all the time."

She smiled faintly, feeling a little depressed by the situation as she had no family or boyfriend. Her friends all lived in the Tower and were part of the Avengers. Y/N had been a trained and qualified agent of SHIELD until the collapse, after which Tony hired her as an assistant. She was grateful to him, even though it hadn't been her dream, after all she was qualified for more, but she told herself it was only until she found something better.

"Alright, but if there's anything, let me know right away," Wanda asked her and she nodded in response.

"Now go, before Vision and you miss the Quinjet, Tony doesn't like to wait," she said with a laugh and her friend rolled her eyes.

"Good...I'll see you soon and don't forget to open your present," she said before they both said goodbye to each other. Y/N watched the jet take off before she went back to her room. There was a present on her bed that must be from Wanda; she carefully picked it up and unwrapped it as she sat down on the bed. She took the lid off the box and saw a small oblong box underneath. Y/N took the box and opened it. Inside was a gold bracelet with an emerald in the center and a note. Y/N placed the bracelet on the bed and read the note: "When I saw the bracelet, I thought of you. She shook her head with a smile and then put the bracelet on. The bracelet was beautiful. After a moment of looking at the bracelet, she got up and went to the kitchen. It was pretty unlikely that she would see Loki, he hardly ever came out of his room. Her luck. Y/N looked around the fridge and sighed as she grabbed the leftovers from last night's dinner and put them in the microwave. While the food was warming, she decided to make herself some cocoa. Cup in hand, she leaned against the kitchen island and stared at the wall. She probably should have just accepted Wanda's offer and celebrated Christmas with her, then she wouldn't be alone in the sense that Loki couldn't be counted as company. But that wouldn't have been fair of her, after all, it was Wanda and Vision's first Christmas together as a couple. The beeping of the microwave made her flinch and she put the cocoa down so she could take the food out.

"What's that?" she heard a voice behind her, making her flinch again because she hadn't heard someone come in, and she dropped the plate on the countertop. Luckily for her, it was only a few centimeters and it remained intact. Y/N then turned to see Loki standing behind her, looking at the cocoa. "Some kind of this coffee?"

Y/N furrowed her brow in confusion at the words, taking a moment to realize it. Why did he even care? It wasn't like he had ever even spoken a word to her. Finally, she shook her head and looked at him more closely. Now she saw that he was only wearing a pair of black pants. His chest was bare and she could hardly take her eyes off his muscular chest. He was attractive, she knew that already, but seeing him like this, he was more than sexy. Thor couldn't even hold a candle to him in that case. God, what was she even thinking about? He was a criminal. His hair was damp and she was sure he'd come out of the shower. He cleared his throat and pulled her out of her trance. Only now did she realize she hadn't answered and felt the blood rise to her cheek. "Um...it's cocoa," she breathed softly. She felt ridiculous for reacting the way she did. Loki lifted the cup and sipped it.

"Sweet," he said with a smirk on his lips as he licked it. Y/N bit her lip lightly and held onto the countertop. Loki set the cup down and stepped up to her. She pressed herself closer to the countertop, which of course he noticed. "Is that fear?" Her breathing became shallower the closer he got. It definitely wasn't fear, but excitement. She could feel her panties getting wetter and she felt ashamed. She turned away from him when he was only a few inches away and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm not afraid of you, Loki," she said, trying to make her voice sound normal, but gasped softly when she felt him right behind her, his breath brushing the back of her neck. His hands rested next to hers on the work surface. His lips were close to her ear.

"I'm not," she breathed, pushing against him to push him away, but when she did, he wrapped his arm around her and held her to him. "Let me fucking go..." She tried to get him off her and tried to punch him, but he stopped her and held her wrists.

"I expected more from an agent," he breathed into her ear and kissed her neck softly. She closed her eyes slightly and took a deep breath. "Tell me you don't want me and I'll let you, but if you want me, I promise you it will be the night of your life." His words excited her, but she couldn't act on them. He was her job. "Agree and I'll fuck you until all you know is my name." She stopped trying to get out of his grip and he let go of her wrists. As soon as his grip loosened, she turned in his arm and stood on her tiptoes before her lips gently brushed his. He placed his hands on her back and deepened the kiss slightly. "I knew you'd agree." Y/N looked up at him slightly and smiled before she stepped firmly on his lip to and on his foot.

Loki hadn't expected this and let her go. She immediately stepped back and grabbed her food and cocoa before walking out of the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Loki leaning against the kitchen island with one hand and his jaw tensed. She bit her lip lightly at the thought of the kiss when she had left. Of course it was arousing what he had done, but she didn't want to join in his game so that he could brag afterwards that he had had something with her. She went into the living room and put both on the table. Leaning back in the sofa, she gazed at the emerald on the bracelet and smiled faintly.

"God," she moaned softly as she closed her eyes. She shouldn't have let the situation with Loki get this far in the first place.

"You know, that wasn't very nice," Loki's voice suddenly breathed in her ear, startling her. Y/N stood up and glared at him as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

"What kind of fucking game is this, Loki? Just leave me alone," she said before simply walking out of the room. She could hear his footsteps behind her, but tried to ignore it until a hand grabbed her by the arm and spun her around.

"What game are you talking about?" he asked, but she tried to get out of his grip again, instead Loki pushed her against the wall. "Answer me."

"You've never spoken a word to me, Loki. What else am I supposed to think this is but you just wanting me so you can make a fool of me in front of everyone later?" she asked softly, looking down. Loki didn't want that though and put a finger under her chin to make her look at him.

"I never spoke to you because they told me not to, Y/N. Now that they're gone, I wanted to take my chance," he said, smiling mischievously, "It would be our secret if you let me." His hands lightly stroked down her body and she savored his touch as he pressed himself against her body for good measure and she could feel his hard erection. Y/N moaned softly and grabbed his shoulders. "All you have to do is say yes..."

"Yes," she breathed softly. Without hesitation, Loki lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his hips. She couldn't and wouldn't fight her desires any longer. Who could blame her. He began to kiss her neck and suck on her skin as well.

His hands roamed under her shirt and stroked her there until he opened her pants and slipped a hand inside. Y/N moaned as he stroked her through her panties.

"So wet for me...I knew it," he said with a grin, pulling the panties aside to fondle her pussy properly.

"L-Loki," she moaned, clawing at his hair. He didn't seem to waste any time and pushed two fingers into her wet pussy. She moved one hand to his back and lightly clawed his shoulder. His fingers thrust deep and fast into her as his thumb rubbed her clit.

"Such a good girl," he hummed in satisfaction. She threw her head back and enjoyed his fingers thrusting into her; it made her imagine what his cock would feel like inside her.

"Take me," she moaned as his fingers continued to thrust into her. She wanted more. Suddenly his fingers stopped and he pulled out of her. Y/N gasped and moaned at the loss. She barely noticed as he carried her back into the living room and laid her on the sofa. Loki reached for the waistband of her pants and pulled them down with her panties. She looked up at him and waited to see what he would do. He lay on top of her as he kissed her passionately and grabbed her wrists, holding them in one hand above her head. His free hand traveled back down and caressed her pussy again. "I want you..."

"Tell me exactly what you want," he said, looking into her eyes.

"I want you to fuck me properly, show me how much better you are than the men on Midgard," she moaned and spread her legs wider for him. Loki moaned and let her hands go before pulling her shirt over her head and unzipping his pants. Y/N took advantage of the moment and slipped her hand inside before stroking his cock until he grabbed her hand and slid his pants down. She watched as he took himself in hand and rubbed the tip at her entrance.

"I'll ruin you for any other man," he groaned, thrusting into her in one swift thrust. Y/N moaned loudly and clawed at his back with her nails. "Norns...you're so fucking tight around me."

She had thrown her head back, savoring the feel of him. "I love how big you feel inside me..." She lifted her hips to show him she was ready. Loki pulled out of her almost completely, down to the tip, before thrusting back into her pussy hard.

"If I had known how good it would feel, I would have taken you much sooner," he moaned and continued to thrust into her. Y/N moaned his name again and again as she sank completely into the feeling of him filling her. His hands gripped her sides tightly, pulling her against him with each thrust. She knew she would be completely sore tomorrow, but it was definitely more than worth it. Y/N wrapped her legs around him and moaned in satisfaction.

"Oh god," she moaned as he continued, thrusting hard into her pussy. Her fingers dug into his back. "Don't stop, Loki." Y/N could already feel her orgasm building inside her. He let one of her sides go and move between their bodies so he could rub her clit. She tightened around him and moaned.

He kept going and sat up slightly so that he was thrusting into her at a new angle, hitting her G-spot with every single thrust. She barely managed to hold back her climax, even though she didn't want it to stop. It was just great the feeling of him taking her and she was already aware that he was making good on his promise to ruin her for every man. "Come for me, Y/N, come for my cock," he said, thrusting into her hard with every word.

Unexpectedly, she came around him and began to tremble from the force of the sensation. Loki continued to thrust into her until she came down from her orgasm and then thrust deep into her one last time, filling her with his cum. Y/N moaned loudly at the sensation and breathed heavily. When she opened her eyes, she looked up at him and pulled her on top of him to kiss him passionately.

"That was definitely as promised," she breathed against his lips and stroked his cheek gently. Loki grinned and stroked her bracelet with his thumb.

"And the night isn't over yet...But first, one more question, if I may," he said and she hummed in response, "Do you like my gift?" She looked at him in confusion and saw that he was looking at her bracelet and then recognized it.

"It's from you? Not from Wanda?" Loki shook his head.

"Wanda's present is under the tree. The bracelet is from me," he said with a grin. She took a deep breath and then smiled.

"I love it," she said and kissed him softly.

"Merry Christmas," Loki said against her lips. She pulled him back down to her and kissed him again. Spending the holidays here was better than she had thought after all.

[cavehunting]

rocket, my distrusting touch-starved raccoon, with f!reader

tags: post vol.3, reader’s from earth, reader comforting rocket, kinda fluffy but not really

It started with a comforting touch, much like how Drax had consoled Rocket after Groot sacrificed himself on Xandar

In your case, it was because of a nightmare

Though the High Evolutionary was gone, the team’s encounter with the egomaniac had been Rocket’s first run-in with him since he first escaped the Arête, and with it dredged up memories that had been kept locked away and only ever thought back on with a haze of blurriness

You had been keeping Peter company during his graveyard shift and was heading back to your quarters when you heard a distressed shout followed by a crash coming from Rocket’s bunk

Your steps faltered, debating whether or not to barge in and ask if he was okay

The two of you weren’t close—though you’d like to be—despite the three years you’ve spent together

After the war with Thanos, you had tagged along with Thor and stayed long after the god left, graciously accepting Peter’s invitation to join the family

The team had taken a quick liking to you. You were a good friend and an even better fighter. Nebula didn’t quite trust you at first; she didn’t really understand how you could do what you do and still retain some of that life that poured out of you. And Rocket…

Well, Rocket was respectful… sometimes… when he needed to be

Mostly, he ignored you. Other times, he was just a jerk

And depending on the day, you’d either let it roll off your shoulder or pretended that his words and the state of your relationship didn’t hurt you

“Shit!”

Rocket yelling expletives was not a new thing, but in your head you saw him lying in the med-bay, tubes and wires attached, foaming at the mouth

The events with the High Evolutionary was only but a month ago. Rocket wasn’t fully over it—you weren’t sure if he ever would be. And you, you definitely weren’t over it. The footage from the OrgoCorp file, the sight of Rocket nearly dead

It scared you, it still scares you

So you knocked and entered his room, knowing well enough that Rocket would never have opened the door or even shouted, asking who was bothering him

You first noticed the overturned cup and the pool of water near his bedside. His blanket had been tossed haphazardly to the floor, soaking up some of the liquid

You then met Rocket’s gaze, mirroring his frown—though yours was one of concern

“Rocket?”

Your voice was high-pitched and unsure, causing you to inwardly cringe

Rocket looked away, very much wishing now that he could bury himself under the covers

You walked toward the bed, noting how his ear twitched at the sound of your footsteps, how his brows furrowed and his nose scrunched up

If it were a totally different situation, you very well could have blurted out how cute you found him to his face

“What are ya doing? Get out of my room.”

He spoke with a gruffness that only comes when you stop yourself from crying but your throat still feels thick

You didn’t answer him, not really knowing what to say without sounding awkward. Instead, you cleaned up his mess. You found an extra blanket and draped it over his lap before joining him on the bed, your back against the wall

You figured halfway through cleaning that it wasn’t necessary for the two of you to talk about it. For now, at least. For now, you just wanted to offer your presence. To be somebody who’s there without making Rocket feel embarrassed about needing somebody in the first place

Rocket had been silent. His arms might’ve been crossed and his brows still tightly knit, but he hadn’t told you to leave a second time

You thought of telling him something funny but found your supply of witty remarks running low. You opened and closed your mouth, trying to muster any kind of words that weren’t “Are you okay?” and “You wanna talk about it?”

“You want to watch one of those Terran movies you like?”

You stopped fiddling with the hem of your sweater, and a smile replaced your cautious expression.

Of all the things he could have said or done…

You didn’t hesitate, lest he take back the rare offer.

“Sure.”

You didn’t do this often. Rations were low and trips to Earth were few and far between. But you wanted this to be special for him, so you grabbed Rocket by the hand, earning a grunt, and led him to your room.

Rocket had never stepped foot inside your quarters, let alone ten feet of it. He found it uniquely Terran, but even more uniquely you

Lamps and string lights you either brought with you from home or found in a junk shop, posters from favorite bands, television shows, and movies, plants—some more loved than others—and books you’ve read as a child

It was starkly different from Quill’s bunk, that’s for sure. Smelled better, too

You shifted some pillows and opened your laptop

“Make yourself comfortable. I’m just gonna grab some things. You can look for a movie in the meantime.”

You gave him a smile and was even bold enough to run a hand through his fur to the top of his spine. He was soft, and he didn’t flinch or bite at you.

You returned five minutes later with a bowl of popcorn, the last of your microwaveable packets, and found Rocket toying with a stuffed animal Drax had gifted you. It was quite ugly but the sentiment was there.

You nestled yourself close to the raccoon, pulled the covers up, placed the bowl between you two, and pressed play.

You woke up to heavy breathing. Next to you was Rocket’s form, his face twisted in anguish and his limbs twitching

You glimpsed your surroundings. A small desk lamp across the room was still on, your laptop and empty bowl were discarded on the floor, the covers had been kicked off by Rocket and covered only a portion of your legs now

You don’t remember falling asleep or even moving your things off the bed

You inched closer to him and rested your hand on his back, rubbing soothing circles. You felt the metal pieces embedded in his body

“Rocket. Rocket, you’re okay.”

Your voice was but a whisper, but his breath caught and his eyes opened to meet yours

“Hey. It’s still a little early. Peter’s still at the wheel, though he’s probably fallen asleep by now,” you chuckled. “It’s not your shift for a while. We should get some more sleep while we can.”

You didn’t want to bring up the nightmare or the fact that you both fell asleep together or the fact that you were touching him and he hadn’t shrugged you off yet

But you made sure to remind him of where he was, who he was with. The Arête’s no more. Rocket’s just on a ship, going who knows where with his friends, answering distress calls and saving the galaxy

He didn’t speak. His eyes darted from your face to your steadily rising and falling chest to the hand that rested on his back. With each second, his vision grew clearer and further away from his wretched memories

“Stay with me?”

You asked for his sake. Rocket nodded ever so slightly and shifted so that his back was to your chest, his head tucked under your chin.

You raised the covers and loosely draped your arm over his side. You didn’t want him to feel any more suffocated than he might’ve felt when dreaming.

“You’re alright.”

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 45: Absence

Summary: Loki takes a trip abroad and longs for what he left behind.

Word Count: 2,059

Author's Notes: Hey everyone. This chapter of Thrown will be the last one posted until January. Holidays are taking their toll and my writing speed has slowed considerably so I'm going to take a little hiatus. My current plan is to start posting again on January 11, 2024, and hopefully returning to the once-a-week schedule at that time. Thanks again for your patience. Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates, and take care.

Thrown Masterlist Loki Masterlist

Loki didn't care for it, the Avengers compound. It was all much too pristine. Clean lines and straight edges. Crisp white and chrome and glass. Sterile. It felt lifeless, when compared to the meandering streets and stone buildings back in New Asgard. Perhaps worst of all, it was full of Avengers.

The tower had been superior, Loki felt. At least the tower had a certain element of grandeur going for it. He kept this opinion to himself. Something told him that may be a sore point.

This trip had been mandatory. There were things to discuss regarding New Asgard, but chief among them was the fact of Loki's continued residency. They called it a "review of progress", but obviously it was a check in to make certain he hadn't been using his freedom to plot some sort of coup. The euphemism was laughable. Loki wouldn't deny that he had progressed, in many ways quite drastically, since he came to this realm, but in what way could these men hope to measure it?

Moreover, he found it insulting that they believed if he had been plotting a coup, that they any hope of detecting it.

There had been interviews and meetings and endless questions. Thor had, apparently, written very detailed reports regarding the goings-on of New Asgard, and particularly Loki's contributions. While the descriptions in the reports were true, Loki felt they portrayed his actions in an overly-generous light.

Throughout the assessments and interrogations, Loki hadn't mentioned you. There were a number of reasons, of course. They would not be likely to understand the way he cared for you, and even less likely to understand the way you cared for him. They would wonder how it was possible that someone like you might love him. He didn't have the energy to explain that he wondered the same thing. They would suspect he had bewitched or corrupted you somehow. Possibly, they might insult you for your folly, which was certainly not something he would be able to tolerate. More than any of that, however, describing you to them simply felt wrong. You were something more precious than this. This trip here was a direct result of the most terrible period of his life. A punctuation on his misery. Even drawing the concept of you into this mire felt like it would sully you somehow.

And so he refrained from mentioning the source of his most drastic changes while here on Midgard. Thor followed his lead, and only brought you up occasionally, and then he only described you as their friend. Loki was grateful.

The days dragged on. Any time he felt that surely he had answered every question of every authority, there was someone new with something else they had to ask, just to be sure. And still that was not the most unbearable part. The most unbearable part was being away from you. This absence made him question how he had ever gone so long without putting his hands on you. It was ridiculous, in the basest sense. He had gone much longer than this without seeing you. He had gone a thousand years without seeing you. He had ached for you for months while standing by your side, but somehow this ache was stronger.

Thor relayed messages by text, and even offered to facilitate a call, which Loki accepted only once. The walls here were listening, quite literally, and there was little he wanted to say to you that he was comfortable having recorded by Stark. Still, hearing your voice had buoyed his spirits and made the rest of this trip moderately more tolerable.

One night, Loki dreamed. He was aware of the dream immediately. He was on the mountain terrace that your hiking trail led to, standing by the stream. The moon was bright and the stars were out, as they had been this past winter when you had brought them here. You were there, standing near the edge, looking out over the landscape. He breathed your name. You looked back over your shoulder, a smile breaking immediately. "Loki." It was only his name, but it carried with it all the longing that he felt. The two of you met and embraced and it all seemed so real; the air, the sky, your skin. It was an illusion, yes, but it was true enough for now, and he held you in his arms for the rest of the night, if only in his dream.

**

This morning was to be their last here at the Compound. There was another meeting, supposedly the final one, where Loki would be interrogated. Thor insisted that "interrogated" was not the right word. Loki felt certain that it was the right word when he found himself sitting at a glass table in some conference room, his brother beside him, with Stark, Rogers, and Fury seated across. Stark and Rogers seemed to be amiable enough, but Fury kept a stone-faced expression. Loki realized he had never seen the man look anything other than angry, or at best mildly irritated. It could be that his face simply looked that way. Perhaps having just the one eye was naturally limiting in expression. He and Thor should exchange notes, he thought. He was not foolish enough to say it out loud.

"I gotta hand it to you, Billy Goat Gruff, you're earning all the gold stars here." Stark wore that insufferable smirk of his. "What he means to say," Rogers, ever the peacemaker, cut in, "is that we think you've been doing very well in your time in New Asgard." "I'm grateful that my existence meets your approval." Loki fought to keep his teeth from grinding. "Oh come on, don't be like that." Stark closed a folder in front of him with a flourish. "You know why we feel the way we do. Before you showed up here in your TARDIS, the last time we met you were blowing us up and tossing us off buildings. I mean, you cut out a man's eyeball for god's sake. Completely unnecessary move, I might add." Loki looked away with a scowl, fighting back violent memories. "And now," Stark continued, "now you're carrying groceries and building homes and teaching underprivileged kids magic algebra or whatever." He leaned back in his chair. "I think it's understandable that we're impressed. You've worked so hard to overcome your natural tendencies." "Perhaps you've mistaken what my natural tendencies are." Loki muttered. "And we're willing to accept that." Rogers offered. "But you understand why we've had to take these measures." "Certainly." "That being said," he glanced at Stark and Fury, "I think we can agree that we can lighten up a bit. Less surveillance. Fewer reports. You've put in the work and you've earned a bit more trust." Loki was annoyed with himself for feeling appreciative of such a meager gesture. But he did, all the same. "Thank you."

Fury spoke for the first time. "I have a few questions first, before we loosen the leash on this would-be mass murder." Thor scowled at the title, but didn't respond otherwise. Loki nodded. "I am happy to oblige." Fury leaned forward and rested his hands on the table, lacing his fingers. "We've spoken at length about your past; the good and the bad. I want to talk about your future." "Of course." "What do you see in your future? Are you really content living in a small town on the coast of Norway? Ruling over nothing in particular? Do you truly think a prince, a god, like you won't get bored? Crave something more?"

Images passed through Loki's mind. The winding streets of New Asgard, the road that led to the mortal town, your farm nestled in the bend. He saw your studio, your kitchen, your face. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I can say with absolute certainty that everything I crave can be found in New Asgard. Even now, all I wish is to be there again."

Fury's eye bored into him, perhaps trying to judge if he was sincere. He seemed to find what he was looking for and leaned back in his seat.

It was silent for a moment, Stark cut his eyes from one person to the next and drummed his fingers on the table. "Okay, so we're done here? The wonder twins are free to go?"

**

If Loki had his way they would have made for the hangar directly from that conference room, but there were hours still to pass before departure. Thor had to pack, he had farewells to bid, and even had lunch with some of his teammates. Loki caught word that the Widow would be there and he was certain his presence would sour the mood. He abstained, and had a meager meal in his room instead. He fixed his mind on the promise of seeing you again and whiled away the hours until finally, finally they boarded the quinjet. The flight was tolerable enough, knowing that every minute brought him closer to you. When they landed he didn't bother going home at all. He said his goodbye to Thor and immediately set off down the road from New Asgard.

He opened your door and was met with the smell of baking. You were in the kitchen, one tray of cookies cooling on a rack and another about to enter the oven. His ache was soothed at seeing you, but it wasn't enough. He called your name as he crossed the room as quickly as he could.

You glanced up at him as he reached you. "Oh, hey Loki." It was much more casual than he expected. Not deterred, he leaned in to kiss you but missed his target as you turned away to place the tray in the oven. "How was your flight back?" He was stunned for a moment, but took a step closer. "It was fine." He leaned again and once more you took no notice and turned at the last moment to another counter. This time he narrowed his eyes. "No fights with Thor?" He didn't answer, instead he placed himself in your path and his suspicions were confirmed when you casually turned from him and reached up to open a cabinet. You startled when his arm shot out and snapped it shut. His eyes were burning as he loomed and growled. "If you don't kiss me immediately I will burn this realm to the ground." You considered this for a moment. "Where would you start? There are a couple places I would-" You were cut off as he looped an arm around your waist and pulled you close in a crushing kiss. He was gratified when your hands immediately found their place at his shoulders.

Once he was satisfied he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to yours. "You are, without question, the most irritating, petulant mortal I have ever had the misfortune of loving." A smirk curled your lips. "How many mortals have you loved?" He chuckled softly and kissed your cheek. "Just the one." "Sounds like I'll be winning a bunch of titles, then." "Yes. Superlative in all respects."

He was pleased to notice that your hands didn't leave him, winding their way around his neck. You leaned your head against his shoulder and sighed. "I missed you." "And I, you. Desperately." "How did it go?" "Very well. For several days I refrained from throwing Stark out of a window. A resounding success." You laughed. "I'm so proud of you." "And how were things here?" "I wasted away, pining for my lost love." "I should expect nothing less." He stated solemnly. "I do have the remedy."

Without notice, he bent and grasped your waist, effortlessly tossing you over his shoulder. You squealed. "Loki!" He started carrying you toward the bedroom. You kicked and wriggled, to his absolute delight. "Loki wait!" "Oh, I have waited long enough, I think." You reached away from him, toward the oven. "The cookies!" "You should have considered that before you gave that insolent performance at my homecoming." You struggled some more, laughing. "At least let me turn the oven off!" He waved a hand and there was a click of a knob. With no more excuses, you relented.

He stepped into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Thrown Tag List If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please leave a comment or send me a message/ask.

@mischief2sarawr, @imalovernotahater, @norestfortheshelbywicked, @purplekitten30, @ozymdias, @pdraxxi, @goblingirlsarah, @chantsdemarins, @n3rdybirdee, @marvel-love24, @lokiprompts, @ladymischief11, @gigglingtiggerv2, @lilmilkbun, @huntress-artemiss, @ellooo0ooo, @femme1fatale, @clairewinchester14, @glitterylokislut, @psychospore, @ladyloki3, @skinij3fx, @iamlokisgloriouspurpose, @lunarnights95, @callxmexnadine, @lilibet261, @valeave, @f2mhg2lt2rta, @fruit-caught-on-camera, @ladymischief11, @paetonnn, @confusedpanda-777, @honeyrydernot, @sarcastic-siren, @wolfsmom1, @lokisgoodgirl, @cakesandtom, @unlucky-number-13, @rinnwylde, @javagirl328, @josiedoesdoodles, @rose7420, @ultrasnakesona, @vickie5446, @superficialdomina, @ireallyneedtherapy, @weirdowoody, @hotmesshobbit, @buttercupcookies-blog, @km-ffluv, @mrsbarnes32557038, @tallseaweed, @leothecat97, @soulpiercing, @axen-gers, @im-a-slut-for-fluff, @jainaeatsstars, @whattwhoo, @xxfaithlynxx, @thisisew, @rvautomatic, @herdetectivetheorist, @rhiannon-russo, @loki-godofstories, @thedistractedagglomeration, @halepack2011, @kalibrate @fireflymoonwitch

[kyotosworld]

undercover, in more ways than one

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: you and steve hate each other but are assigned onto an undercover mission that involves a fake marriage.

warnings: none i’m pretty sure

word count: 2.8k

For as long as you could remember, you and Steve have always hated each other.

You joined the avengers a bit later than everyone else, so you were a newer member. Regardless, it didn’t justify Steve’s hatred towards you.

When Tony introduced you to everyone for the first time, you instantly felt comfortable. Everyone was so nice; Natasha welcomed you with a warm smile, Bucky and Clint nodded at you, Bruce awkwardly smiled, Thor hugged you, and Sam and Wanda immediately offered to cook for you—because they are excellent cooks.

However, the only person who didn't make you feel welcome was Steve Rogers. He simply frowned at you without saying a word.

You had heard a lot about "America’s golden boy" and had expected a warmer welcome. It’s not like you wanted him to kiss your feet, but a little acknowledgment would have sufficed.

As you got to know everyone more and more, you and Steve still couldn’t get along. You don’t know what you did to make Steve hate you but if he does, then you’ll hate him right back.

Since then, you guys avoid talking to each other unless absolutely necessary.

So, that’s why when given the details of an undercover mission where you have to pretend to be Steve's fiancée, you do all you can to prevent being sent on that mission.

You and Steve are supposed to spend a night at this hotel near the target’s potential base.

Since in the next few days, they are planning to drop a bomb that would take out all of New York. You are meant to go to a party tomorrow night, where the leaders of target will be, and gather any information that could point you in the direction of their base in order to find and destroy the bomb.

"Uh, Tony. Tony," you repeat when he doesn’t answer the first time.

"What?" he replies, annoyed, already knowing what you’re going to say.

"Why do we have to be the couple?" You wave your hands between you and Steve. "Couldn’t anyone else do it? Like Nat and Steve?" You plead, "Even Steve and Bucky would be more believable." You almost beg.

Steve doesn’t say anything, but you know he agrees from the small nod you notice out of the corner of your eye.

"I already told you that Natasha and Bucky are with Sam on another mission right now, and we can’t wait for them to get back." He sighs, "You two are the only ones available for this kind of job right now, besides you’re skilled enough for this job."

You groan and close your eyes as you slowly accept your fate. You know Tony’s right, so you're just going to have to get through it. It can’t be that bad…right?

"Fine." You reluctantly agree.

"Okay." Steve says at the same time as you. You both glare at each other, annoyed that the other had spoken over them.

"Good." Tony exhales, relieved to be done with this conversation. "You’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning." He says before exiting the room.

You and Steve walk out of the room at the same time, accidentally brushing the backs of your hands against each other.

You move your hand away as fast as you can, trying to ignore the fluttery feeling you get in your stomach or how Steve didn’t seem to mind your closeness just now.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

It's the next morning, and you're kind of freaking out. It's not like there's anything to be nervous about. You know Steve.

Sure, you might not get along, but that doesn't mean this mission has to be the worst thing ever. Nonetheless you have to admit—never to Steve of course—that you find him a little bit intimidating, making this undercover mission that much more difficult.

And the ring, omg the ring. Tony got it, so of course it had to be the biggest and shiniest ring he could find. You almost felt embarrassed wearing it around Steve. You didn't fail to notice the way his eyes widened when he saw it for the first time.

You texted Nat last night to tell her the dreadful news, and she just laughed, saying that it was "the perfect opportunity for you and Steve to settle your differences." You simply rolled your eyes in response, cursing Natasha Romanoff in your head.

Now both you and Steve are in the Quinjet on your way to some fancy hotel in complete silence. There’s been unintended eye contact here and there, but no words have been shared as you both come to terms with the fact that soon enough, you’ll have to be all lovey-dovey with each other.

You hate Steve, but you can try to hide that hatred, at least for a little while, until the mission is over.

"We’re landing in T-minus 2 minutes, get ready."

You side eye Steve, "You know I don't know what that means. In English, please."

He rolls his eyes while hiding his amusement, before repeating, "Two minutes till we land. Better?" He teases.

"Much." You sarcastically smile before walking away to "get ready" so you don't notice Steve chuckle. In reality, you just need time to mentally prepare for what’s about to happen.

You walk into the hotel, and it's like you're completely different people. You’re both smiling and walking close together—something you never thought you’d be doing with Steve Rogers. You get to the counter.

"Hi! We’re here for our honeymoon." You say to the receptionist with the brightest smile you can muster.

"Welcome, and wow, what a ring!"

"I know, he’s the best." You smile extra big and hold onto Steve’s arm for good measure, not missing how he tenses a little.

The receptionist smiles and asks, "Can I get a last name?"

"Smith." Steve answers with your undercover names before wrapping his arm around your waist. You try your best to act natural.

"Oh right, I see your name here." The receptionist smiles. "You are booked for our honeymoon suite. It has the best view…and bed." She winks and gives you your key cards.

Of course Tony had to make sure you kept up the image of a married couple by booking that room.

Steve looks down to hide his blush as you awkwardly laugh before heading off to the elevators.

As soon as the elevator doors close, you guys distance yourselves from each other, acting as if nothing happened, and ride up the elevator in silence. Not addressing the elephant in the room; there’s only one bed in a honeymoon suite.

Once you get to the room, you throw all your stuff down, which is a lot—it turns out an undercover mission requires a lot of different outfits.

You guys still haven’t talked, but then Steve breaks the silence saying, "Look, we don't have to talk, just make sure you’re ready for the party by 7:00."

"Got it." You sigh slightly dejected, not missing the fact that he would rather not talk to you right now.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Once you’ve gotten ready for the party, wearing a dark red slip dress that hugs your body just right, you meet Steve outside of the hotel room.

Steve, who is in a blue suit and tie, and doesn’t have any effect on you at all.

When he sees you, you think you hear a hitch in his breath, but you choose to ignore it.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You question.

“Your dress it’s…you look...” He never finishes his sentence and looks away instead.

“Thank you?..." You squint your eyes. "Anyway, you ready?" You ask.

He clears his throat and continues to look anywhere but you. "Yeah, let’s go."

Once you arrive at the bar where the party is being held, you and Steve walk in side by side. Almost too close, but you do have to sell this whole engaged thing.

It’s crowded and smells like a mixture of alcohol and sweat.

"Alright, try to blend in, but keep an eye out." He mentions discreetly, without looking into your eyes.

"Aye aye captain." You smirk and head straight for the bar.

Steve gives you a small glare before walking away.

You guys split up because you figured it would be easier for you to attract men when they didn’t see you with another man, or in this case didn’t care regardless of the huge engagement ring on your finger.

The whole engagement ploy was there to fall back on in case you needed to get away from one of them without blowing your cover.

Turns out you didn't have to work very hard to ‘keep an eye out,’ seeing as the man you were looking for was walking up to you right now.

"What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He asks after sitting a bit too close to you.

You try not to roll your eyes and giggle instead, "Looking for a drink."

"Let me buy you one." He says instead of asking.

"Sure.” You answer anyway. “Sooo, what's a guy like you doing here?" You ask flirtingly.

"Work thing." He seems secretive about his answer, so you try to pry more out of him.

“Oh, really, me too!" You fake enthusiasm. "I work at an office that requires we go out for," you put up air quotes, "office bonding every year." You roll your eyes. "Is that why you’re here too?"

"Uh…yeah, basically. My job’s pretty private, so I can't tell you much."

You pout and move closer "Oh come on! You’re not a spy, are you? You can tell me."

The man somewhat breaks, "Fine, but you have to meet me on the floor under this later tonight, that’s where my coworkers and I hang out. Then I’ll tell you what I do. Okay sweetheart?" He holds your chin.

You try not to cringe, "Okay, see you then."

He walks off, and Steve immediately shows up.

“What’d he say?”

You grin, "The guy’s a dumbass, he practically gave me all the info we need. He said to meet him in the basement where he and the rest of his group ‘meetup’ often."

You watch as Steve finally pieces it together and then says, "It's here. We’re in Mime’s base."

"Yeah." You nod. "We’ve just never thought to look in the basement of a dingy bar."

Steve nods and looks genuinely impressed that you figured that out in just the few minutes you talked with him.

You inwardly beam at the thought of impressing Steve.

"I noticed some of the members walking around the room earlier, we should go now before they meet up underground." Steve says.

You two leave right away and covertly in search of the explosive in the basement.

You are searching every room in that basement, behind every door you come across, only to be surprised when you see guards heading your way.

“Sorry. Can I kiss you?” Steve asks almost too quickly for you to understand. You nod anyway, putting complete trust in him.

You freeze, and before you know what’s happening, your back’s against a wall and his soft lips are against yours. Steve is kissing you. OMG, Steve is kissing you. After getting over the initial shock, you reciprocate.

You're not even aware that the guards have left until Steve pulls away. Breathing heavily, you gape at each other before awkwardly returning your attention to the mission.

Right, the mission. That’s the only reason Steve kissed you—to make the guards unsuspicious. You ignore the bad feeling that leaves in your stomach and instead get back on track.

"Found it! Deactivating it now," Steve yells from across the room before you catch up to him.

Steve successfully deactivates the bomb and you both let out a deep exhale, pleased that everything was over. At least that's what you thought.

Out of the corner of your eye and behind Steve's back, you see a man with a gun. Without thinking, you push Steve out of the way, barely evading the bullet yourself, and run up to knock the guy out before he can think to pull the trigger again.

You turn around to see Steve on the floor, panting with a surprised look on his face.

"Get up. We need to go before the rest of them find us." You say quickly, helping Steve up and running out of there.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

After debriefing with Tony over a call and deciding that it was too exhausting to fly back to the compound tonight, you both choose to stay at the hotel. And nothing has been said since.

Steve is mad at you—well, more than usual. He’s been quiet, too quiet. Plus, he’s distancing himself further from you by staying on the couch without even discussing who gets the bed.

You honestly don't know why it bothers you so much. You thought you would enjoy Steve’s silence, but after the day you had, his silence only makes you nervous.

Not that you expected him to say thank you for saving his life, but once again, some sort of acknowledgement would have been nice.

He’s on the couch while you're sitting up on the bed, pretending to watch whatever's playing on the tv.

You try to think of something to say, but only come up with: "Is everything okay, Steve?"

He lets out a scoff, and you're tired of his scoffing. How dare he be annoyed with you when you haven't done anything to deserve this treatment?

You get off the bed in frustration, crossing your arms, "What? What is it?!"

Steve‘s eyebrows are raised when he looks up at you, having never seen you this angry before, but he quickly adjusts his expression to appear unaffected.

"I don't know what you’re talking about." He mumbles in an attempt to avoid having this conversation.

Now it's your turn to scoff. "I helped you out there, and I can’t even get as little as a nod," You explained with lowered brows.

Steve sighs, "Don't act like you did that to help me. You wouldn't care if I got injured. What you did was reckless, you could have gotten seriously hurt." He argued.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. "Are you kidding?! You could have gotten seriously hurt." You throw back at him. "I was only trying to help, like any teammate would," Your arms come up before dropping in exasperation.

His jaw tightens, "I would heal. You wouldn’t."

"You might be a super soldier, but you still hurt." You whisper the last half of the sentence. And that seems to change things because Steve’s eyes soften. Look, I know you hate me-"

"What?" Steve interrupts, hurt that you could say that.

You sigh and look straight at Steve, finally asking what you’ve been too scared to for the longest time, "Did I do something wrong? Why do you hate me?" You ask, trying not to get emotional.

Steve gets up from the couch with a wounded look on his face and takes a step towards you. "How could you think that I hate.." He breathes out before continuing, "You didn't do anything wrong. I did." He looks down.

You furrow your brows, and Steve explains, "I don’t hate you. It’s...the opposite actually."

Now you’re even more confused.

He finds it hard to look at you when he says, "I’ve liked you since the day you walked into the compound. You made me feel a way I hadn't in a long time, and I didn't know how to deal with that. So instead, I distanced myself from you, hoping this feeling would go away, but it didn't. It hasn’t."

Your eyes widen, not knowing what to say.

He looks back up at you and takes another step forward. "It’s only intensified, and I soon realized that I wanted to get to know you. Except I thought you hated me, so I gave up on that idea."

“But now I know you never did, I just made you hate me back.”

You stand there, speechless, and with your eyebrows raised. Steve held your eyes with his as he confessed, "I'm sorry for ever making you think you did anything wrong and for treating you so horribly. I’m so sorry." It’s only then that you notice how close Steve has gotten. His clean and beautiful scent flooding your senses.

You softly gasp when he takes both your hands in his and whispers, "I could never hate you."

Your heart beats so fast in your chest as you stare deeply into each other’s eyes before he moves one of his hands to hold your face, and you hold his.

You move even closer together, “Can I kiss you?” he whispers.

You nod before feeling the soft warmth of his lips embrace your own. It was a gentle kiss that communicated things your words couldn't.

When you both finally pull away, you just stand there for a moment, foreheads touching, breathing heavily, unable to open your eyes for a bit. Basking in the warmth of being near each other.

“I like you too, Steve,” you finally say and he only responds by kissing you again.

"Plus, I couldn’t stand Sam and Bucky's teasing if they knew how much I liked you." Steve jokes when you pull away again.

You laughed softly. Maybe Nat was right, this was perfect.

Guess the room having one bed isn’t a problem for you two anymore…

[ussgallifrey]

(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 23

✦ Summary: Your badge clearly said SHIELD consultant, so you weren’t entirely sure where Fury was getting this whole make you an Avenger idea from. But you had a feeling it might have something to do with the recent discovery of an artifact at the bottom of the Arctic Sea.

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Canon divergence, dialogue taken directly from Avengers: Age of Ultron, allusions of accepting death, blood, careless mistakes, dark visions, drowning, injuries, mass injuries & casualties, minor medical violence, language, references to 9/11, references to trauma suffered by Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers' mental prowess, Thor making brash decisions, violence

✦ Word Count: 11.3k

✦ Playlist: Here

✦ Cinematic Soundtrack: Here

✦ Author's Note: Okay, yeah, this one is a heavier chapter. I had a joy writing it, though. One thing that always irked me with the movie was how every Avenger suffered through a terrible vision when Wanda used her powers upon them. And originally Steve was supposed to be dealing with the guilt he had over never going back for Bucky. And, instead, we got that entire dance hall scene with Peggy. I don't know, it just sort of rubbed me the wrong way. So, in this chapter, I promised myself I would properly traumatize the poor man. Enjoy!

[Master List]

“Well, that answers it then.”

Steve’s eyes travel to the imposing figure of Thor as the god summons his hammer and begins striding out of the lab. There’s a beat of silence as the team collectively turns to watch him go.

“Okay, hold on,” you say, hurrying after the god.

Tony looks at the supersoldier with a knowing gaze of amusement. Steve’s mouth gapes, opening and closing like a fish out of water before he wordlessly turns and follows after the two of you.

The God of Thunder is already on the stairs, halfway up to the next floor with you a few steps below.

“I’m sorry, in what world do you think we should just be running out of here at the first drop of possible intel?”

“Oh, apologies. Would you prefer that we, what, lay around here and dig through old files while the real enemy is at play? Even you are too wise for that, Olympian.”

With a finger resting above your brow, you turn to look at Steve, your face drawn with clear exasperation.

“You understand what I’m saying, right?” you ask with a vaguely pleading tone.

Steve gives you an affirming nod.

“Thor,” he calls up. “If we jump on the first thing we find, we could be missing the bigger picture.”

“Or, we could just get refused entry into another country. Seems like we’re racking those up nowadays,” the goddess snarks.

You both watch as the Asgardian heaves a long sigh, his fingers flexing along the shaft of Mjolnir as he comes to his decision.

“Come on,” you implore, taking another step closer, your hand outstretched toward him, ready to put aside your own frustrations in favor of a peaceful resolution.

After a beat, Thor reluctantly descends the stairs, ignoring your hand entirely as he breezes past the two of you. You let out a little sigh as he passes, turning your attention back to Steve.

“He’s always been like that. Quick to judgment, quick to action, quick to… anger.”

At that, you absently rub the back of your neck. The fleeting image of an old memory dances in your eyes, one that seems entirely unpleasant. He distantly recalls the fact that your people hadn’t always been on such friendly terms as you are now.

Steve settles you with a warm look.

“We’ll figure this out,” he promises.

“Yeah, hopefully before the rest of them start jumping to the same conclusions and try to fly off to the horn of Africa.”

He offers you a chuckle at that, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder as you both return to the lab. The others have converged around the main workbench that Tony and Bruce had been situated at, while Thor seems to be remaining despondently annoyed near the windows overlooking the city.

“Okay, well this Sarkissian might be worth looking into,” Nat says with an open file in her hand. “There’s like eight other names here too.”

You glance up at him with a sudden assuredness in your eyes. Steve squeezes your shoulder as you move to join the group.

Since their short departure, the billionaire has situated himself at Maria’s laptop, typing away while conversing at Bruce over his shoulder. The other scientist seems unfazed and partially disinterested in whatever it is Tony is saying, too busy with his own stack of files to look up and acknowledge him.

“Here,” you smile, offering him up another stack.

Steve flashes you a smile as he glances down at the Cyrillic letters.

“Those two,” you glance over at Tony and Bruce, “Are currently working out some formula to locate Klaue. I give it an hour before they try to make for the jet.”

“So, we better get working?” he raises his brows, a smirk tugging at his lips.

In the span of forty-five minutes, you’ve uncovered a connection between Strucker and Georges Batroc. However, a quick call to Maria confirms that the mercenary is still secured behind bars. Steve finds multiple mentions of a задача мастер, which Nat informs him translates roughly to Task Master, probably a pseudo name for some lower-level manager on the HYDRA ladder if she had to hazard a guess. Someone finds a few references to an Allegra de Fontaine as well, but there’s no real record on any database that Clint can seem to find.

Which leads to Tony clapping his hands together after a quick stretch of his shoulders.

“Alright, I’m calling it. We’re going to Johannesburg, well you probably are,” he amends, pointing at everyone but himself. “I want to nip this shit while we can. Hence, scoot.”

He waves his hands dismissively, as if excusing them all from his presence.

You give a long-suffering sigh, smacking a folder closed on yet another file.

“I don’t think it’s the right path, Tony.”

“Ah,” Thor chuckles, heartless in his tone. “You would rather have us holed up in this tower then? Hmmm? Or shall we allow Strucker to take hold of the scepter once again? Perhaps he can accomplish his goals at last.”

The reminder of the Leviathan shell at the base of Strucker’s operation rings hauntingly through Steve’s thoughts. He had perused the files after Maria’s meeting the other day. He knew all about the Baron’s plans for crafting mechanical nightmares out of alien tanks.

“That’s not - ” you rub your hand over your forehead before rolling your shoulders back to give your fellow god a look, “- if we get this wrong, if we follow the wrong lead, not only do we have Strucker and the scepter to contend with, but Ultron as well. Have we truly eliminated every possibility for what Ultron could have been seeking information on?”

There’s a shattering stillness that permeates the lab. Sam and Steve share a silent exchange, a few questions coming to mind in the brief silence.

“Look,” Tony coughs after a minute. “I’m not saying it’s a great lead, but it’s our only one that, right now, could be an immediate threat. This thing gets its hands on vibranium? I’m telling you, we’re going to be in over our heads.”

“Fine,” you wave your arms in defeat, settling back on the stool.

“And hey,” the billionaire rounds the table to gently smack you on the shoulder, “if you’re really feeling all deadset on this, hang back this round and keep digging. God knows you’ll be the one to find something in this mess, Goddess of Knowledge and all that.”

With a cursory look around the lab, Steve clenches his jaw. It looked like a tornado had ripped through the place, with stacks of empty boxes and piles of papers and files strewn about the floor and every other available surface.

It takes only a few minutes longer to decide who will be going on the mission.

When Steve returns to the lounge area, already suited up with his helmet in hand and shield resting on his back, he finds you. Standing near the recently plastic-covered windows. Tony was waiting for his window guy to install them on Wednesday, apparently. You’re conversing with Nat when he emerges from the elevator.

His gaze travels up to the ceiling where a beam of golden light halos the room and where your plummed helm descends from an otherworldly realm. Into your hands, it drops.

“Here, just in case,” you smile, handing it over to the spy.

Nat shakes her head, glancing over at Steve as he approaches.

“He’s really got a thing about it, doesn’t he?”

“Hey,” you shrug. “If it helps it helps. Anyway, keep safe. Any luck and I’ll see you and that scepter back here in a few hours' time.”

The redhead offers you a smile and then Steve one as well before she, and the helm, head in the direction of the lab. The supersoldier turns, watching until he’s certain she’s disappeared from both sight and earshot before he returns his attention to you.

Rubbing your hands up and down your arms, you offer him a simple, “Hey.”

He lets the silence simmer for a moment longer as he takes in your every feature.

“I know that look.”

Turning your head, you settle him with a curious expression.

“Is that right?”

Steve nods.

“You think we’re about to do something stupid.”

“No,” you push your elbow into his arm. “I know you’re going to do something stupid. I’m just afraid we’re missing something important though, it’s the only reason I’m staying behind. It’s like… I have the puzzle pieces, just not in order yet.”

His face screws slightly at the insult, unable to let it slip past, “Wait, what exactly do you mean I’m going to do something - ”

“I don’t know, jump out of a moving helicarrier or something of the sort?”

“Okay,” he turns on you, flashing a playful smile. “That was one time.”

“Crashing a plane with explosives on board, then. Or, letting a superpowered man smash all of your facial bones to dust.”

At that, he can’t help but wince at the memory. Partly due to the physical pain he can recall from the instance, but mostly due to Bucky. The deeply rooted emotional pain that seeped into his very blood and turned his mind sour. That was, and still remains, the biggest sore point in his day-to-day life.

Your face falls, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - ”

“No,” he supplies, fixing you with a look that makes it known that he’s not offended. “You’re right, it was… stupid.”

Letting out a sigh, you push your entire right side into his left, dropping your head down before shyly glancing back up at him.

“You did what you had to do in the moment. You always do. Just… try to avoid any scepters to the chest and… aim for the head of any robot you come across.”

Steve lets out a little chuckle, using his free hand to wrap around your waist and draw you even closer into his side. You tilt up into the warmth of your shared body heat and meet his eyes with a dazzling expression that Steve can only describe as purely divine.

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs, letting his lips drift down to the crown of your head where he places a feather-light, barely-there, kiss.

As Tony types aimlessly away in the corner of the lab, lips pursed and forehead lines drawn taunt, you pursue yet another ancient file. One that had clearly been tucked away sometime before the invention of the personal computer, as half of the file had been blacked out with marker.

Holding your hair back with your own hand, you read through the lines of Russian reports. It was a rarity to have proper KGB files left in HYDRA / SHIELD’s hands, but you had certainly lucked out with this particular box.

The billionaire gives a long, drawn-out sigh as he pulls away from the table to rub his eyes with the backs of his hands.

“Words blurring together yet?” you ask.

“Nearly.”

Running a hand across his jaw, he stands and makes his way over to you. With one hand on the table and the other on your left shoulder, he peers down at your current reading.

“Anything good?”

“Old intel mostly, a few commander names here and there, but I have to assume most of them are long since dead at this point. There’s mentions of a base in Siberia, a dinner party with the American U.N. Ambassador set for March 1973 - ”

At that, Tony scoffs.

“ - and about a dozen mentions of the Red Guardian and the Winter Soldier.”

He blinks, “Oh shit.”

You hum in reply, flipping the page to reveal a sepia-toned portrait of the Guardian. Tony leans back against the workbench then, picking up the file for himself.

“Anything… useful to, you know, Rogers’ mission?”

You give a shake of your head, “No, unfortunately. It just mentioned his name in passing. The Asset was sent to deal with Kuznetov, the Winter Soldier was apprehended in Samara, the Soldier brought out of stasis for the mission.”

He flips another page before dropping it back in front of you, “Jesus.”

“Yeah.”

“But…” he seems to take an extra second to consider his next few words, “You don’t think Barnes is…?”

It takes you all of five seconds to consider the notion, before you ultimately shake your head, “Highly unlikely, if nearly improbable. If you can’t find him with all of your tech, how would Ultron manage such a feat? And even if he did, I don’t think Bucky would be assisting him willingly.”

“Alright,” he sighs, glancing back at his own workstation a few feet away. “Let me know if you find anything of use.”

“Will do,” you reply, already pulling out the next folder in the pile. But then you look up, just as he gets back to his seat. “Any word yet? From the team?”

He gives you a low smile, curled up at the edges as he flicks at a few buttons on his keyboard, “Just over the equator now, ETA twenty minutes.”

You give Tony a nod of thanks, before returning to the mess of files in front of you. While you had nearly limited down Strucker’s known accomplices, you were certain there was something bigger that you were missing. But as you dug in deeper and deeper, the small details became increasingly harder to look away from. Like staring at a Seurat painting and being unable to see the cheerful Sunday afternoon around all of the dots.

Just as you’re about to grab another box, your eyes catch sight of movement just outside of the lab.

“Hey,” you call. “You heading out?”

Sam, with a bag tugged over his right shoulder, trudges up the stairs to the otherwise empty lab. He gives you a little shrug.

“I got a day job, you know.”

“And here I thought your day job was chasing James Barnes across central Europe.”

Tony snorts, not even bothering to look up from his phone.

“Might as well be,” Sam drones, dropping onto the stool opposite yours.

While the rest of the team - you and Tony excluded - had all left for South Africa nearly forty minutes ago, the man across from you had decided to call it quits for the time being.

“Nah, I gotta check in on my Ma and Sarah while I got the time,” he answers.

To the best of your understanding, Sam wasn’t officially an Avenger, similar to Rhodes. Though he might as well have been, considering the amount of time he had been putting in on the HYDRA raids. Or, so Steve had told you over your various meet-ups this past year.

“That’s got to be nice at least,” you smile. “You mentioned something about a new nephew?”

He instantly breaks out into a radiant smile, “Yeah. Cass. I’m telling you, that kid is cute as hell. And as much as I love running around next to America’s golden boy all day, I’m not gonna miss out on this kid’s childhood. Gotta claim that Cool Uncle status early on.”

You give a returning laugh, “Well, never let me be one to keep you from that.”

He hops up from the stool and holds out a hand for you to shake, “Don’t be a stranger now.”

“Never.”

He’s all of three steps out of the lab, nearly on his way to freedom, when Maria runs right into him,

“Sorry, Sam,” she apologizes, almost out of breath as she strides into the lab, her gaze set directly on you.

On instinct, you stand from the table, eyeing her approach. Sam has stopped as well, turning his attention back to the two of you. And Tony’s already headed your way as well.

“I need you to suit up.”

“What’s happened?”

You glance over at the billionaire. If the team was already in trouble in Johannesburg…

She gives a light sigh, swiping something on her tablet before she turns it around for you to see.

“We’ve found Emil Blonsky.”

The name and the memory of the man rumbles around in your head as the Twitter video loops for a second time. A stone pillar is uprooted and thrown down a noisy street, people scream as the camera goes shaky.

“Where?”

“London.”

Tony huffs, “Awfully convenient.”

When both you and Maria turn to look at him, he merely rolls his shoulders.

“What? I’m just saying. Little too coincidental to have him crawling out of the woodwork, in a major city, while we’re locking in on Klaue.”

You shake your head, “He was MIA prior to SHIELD’s downfall. I had been sent to locate him before… everything with the helicarriers above the Potomac even happened.”

“Okay then,” he drops his hands. “Coincidence, not correlation.”

“Seven?” Maria implores.

“Yeah. I got it,” you sigh, already feeling the tension creeping through your shoulders. “I mean, what’s another round with the Abomination?”

Steve rocks his head back against the wall of the quinjet, eyes closed as he prepares himself for the ensuing fight. It would be a fight, he knew that much. Tony had told them the specs of what exactly it was they would be walking into. A group of armed guards and several civilians would be in the ship Klaue was using as his personal shop.

“So…”

His eyes blink open at the sound of Nat.

She only spares him a look as she loads her pistols, though her interest is much more apparent.

“Are you guys an item yet?”

When he only responds with a groan, she smirks. It was worse than when she was actively trying to set him up with his fellow SHIELD agents at the beginning of his time in D.C.

Banner’s seated across from him on the benches as well. He’s only there in case things need to be moved to a Code Green. But, despite the impending possibility of the Hulk coming out, he smirks at Steve. Apparently, even he was in the gossip loop now.

“Barton wanted to know if we should throw a party for you guys when we get back,” Nat continues, unbothered as she secures her weapons.

He fixes her with a look; a tired and all too annoyed look.

“Aww,” she coos, gently tapping his cheek. “You’ll get there sooner or later, Cap.”

“Are you done?”

“Hey, three-minute ETA!” Clint calls out from the pilot’s seat.

She offers him a curved smile as she hovers over him, hands balanced on the overhead bars, “For now.”

As she saunters back to the head of the jet, Steve grabs hold of his helmet and pulls the straps into place. He stares down at the glint and glimmer of the shield on the floor next to his foot.

“It’s… sweet.”

Steve looks up, surprised that Bruce wants to continue whatever this is.

“What is?”

“You and… Athena. I know,” he holds up a defensive hand as Steve goes to refute it. “None of our business, but… it’s kind of hard to just ignore it.”

He huffs, moving to stand as he feels the jet begin its descent.

“Everyone seems to manage with whatever Clint and Nat have going on just fine.”

Bruce shrugs, “They’re in our face nearly every day; we’ve become desensitized to it. You two though… I don’t know, man.”

Steve offers him a sigh as he looks back at the scientist.

“There’s nothing going on there.”

He laughs instead, “I got the message. I’ll shut up about it.”

With a thankful smile, Steve heads toward the cockpit just as the quinjet settles down into a grove of trees near the shoreline.

The tide has long since receded when they approach the ship. Steve watches on as a crew of men come flying down the embarkment ladder, running like their very lives depended on it.

“Well,” Clint intones, fixing his bow. “That doesn’t look too promising.”

The men stumble on the wet sand, but no one seems keen on sticking around longer than necessary as they make for the beach.

“Let’s get moving,” he commands, headed for the ladder.

Deep within the belly of the vessel, the emergency lights flicker their ominous warning to the group. The ringing sound of raised voices draws them further into the darkness. One voice, above all others, he recognizes almost instantly.

“You will be of use to me yet.”

As they round the corner, weapons drawn and gazes fixed, they come face to face with the bot that had escaped from the tower. But… it’s different. More put together, more metallic, less… friendly peacekeeping Stark drone. The white plastic shell remains, but the haphazard wiring that had been pulled apart during the fight at the tower has been fully repaired; patched.

Klaue nudges at his henchman and they quickly disappear down the opposing gangway, but that’s not where their focus needs to be right now. Klaue will be dealt with another day. Ultron is where their concern lies.

“I’m not seeing a scepter,” Nat whispers in hushed tones.

“So…” Clint calls out, “What’s with the vibranium?”

Nat readies her guns, Thor tightens his grip on his hammer, Steve fixes his posture and braces himself.

The drone tilts his head to the side, almost humanlike in the maneuver.

“Barton, Clinton Francis. Would you like me to tell you my plan? Is that an effective use of my time here? Perhaps it is…” 

“Enough!” Thor rumbles, throwing his hammer out toward the robot.

But, instead of sending the drone flying back into the wall, they all stare in slight horror as the bot grips hold of the straining hammer, turning its visual optics toward the God of Thunder. It blinks. 

“How… interesting.”

The hammer drops to the ground with a deafening clang. 

Steve watches it settle into the metal grates for just a second longer before arrows and bullets begin flying. He rushes forward, shield in hand as he leaps up to strike at its neck.

Mjolnir soars past him as he attempts to make contact, but a rough metallic arm pushes him back at the last second, sending him over the railing into the stack of weapon crates down below. As the world spins on edge, he can almost hear the sound of Natasha’s urgent calls, of electric ripples of lightning. But he pushes it all away as he moves to stand up. He sways on his feet, head heavy, and then something darts out of his peripheral.

Small, impish, the crouched figure slinks along the wall.

He throws his shield up at the last second as Ultron comes surging down toward him, the force of the robot sends him reeling right back into the crates. Electric blue light ignites just next to his prone body, which he quickly twists to avoid as Thor comes soaring down after the drone.

Steve can see Nat wandering down the stairs, slightly dazed, and he wants to call out to her, but then a girl appears in front of him. Short-statured, wide-eyed.

A kid.

A terrified-looking kid, standing in the middle of a deadly fight. He tries to sit up, but her dark eyes begin to glow red and he finds himself frozen in place.

“What…” he tries to say, but the words turn to sludge in his throat.

And then something pricks the side of his temple and his vision begins to swim.

“So, what’s the deal on Blonsky?” Sam asks, fully suited up as you guide him past the police barricade.

While Tony had offered to pull a suit out of storage to help out, you had said he would be better use to the team if anything went wrong with Klaue, or if Ultron showed up. Sam had been harder to push back. So, reluctantly, the two of you transported over to England in a quick jump.

“Uhm… a few years back the American government tried to recreate the supersoldier serum. Bruce got dosed first, things went… well, green. They wanted to take him down but, you know, Hulk. So, Emil Blonsky got another dose, but varied. And… the Abomination was born.”

You can hear the sound of aggravated, animalistic roars up ahead. The two of you pick up your pace.

“I helped get him into custody and he was on ice until someone, or something, broke him out. And he’s pretty much been off the radar ever since. Oh, and… he doesn’t get to come back, like Bruce. He’s just…”

The words you were about to say simmer out in your mouth as you round the corner where several tanks are positioned, armed soldiers at the ready.

“Like that,” you finish lamely.

Sam gawks at the creature in front of you, ripping apart the stairs in front of the Natural History Museum. You were just a stone’s throw away from Buckingham Palace. To your knowledge, the royal family was already being evacuated as a precaution.

Curious place for Blonsky to turn up though. He had to get here somehow; unseen. In a major city too. More puzzle pieces out of order, more questions to be answered.

“Like I said, stay clear. Don’t fly too low. You’re my backup, but you’re no match for this.”

Tony had questioned the idea of bringing Bruce in to help, but you quickly reminded him how that had turned out for Harlem all those years back. No, this was your problem now.

“All right,” you sigh, gripping your sheathed sword’s handle. “Let’s try not to die.”

Sam shoots you a wide-eyed look as you approach the creature.

“HEY. Blonsky!”

He turns, eyes narrowing as all of his attention focuses right on you. He drops a bent lamppost to the ground, which makes the concrete around it break under the weight.

Pulling your sword free, you twirl it around in your hand before dropping into a low stance, with your teeth bared and your eyes burning melted golden hues, you call out:

“Remember me?”

Steve blinks against the blur of red clouding his vision, the metallic taste of blood clings to his lips as he pushes up from the crates, shield in his exhausted grip as he surveys the damage. His movements feel slow; like he’s walking through molasses.

But then someone darts along the right wall.

And he recognizes that silhouette.

But the words in his mouth are deafened by a build-up of imaginary sand, so he stumbles after the person, trying to catch up to them instead.

They’re running now, faster than Steve can keep up with. And as he races down the corridors of the darkened ship, the pants of exalted breath turn to screams. Screams that grow louder, last longer. Torn vocal cords that are filleted open with a knife drench the walls in blood as that person begs for help, for mercy, for the pain to stop. And Steve can’t stop running now, chest aching as he tries to catch that person, that man.

He’s so close now, nearly catching his arm as he rounds one last corner.

And then… he’s on the bow of the ship.

The sliver of moonlight and pure starlight illuminates the terrified figure of Bucky Barnes, hunched near the railing, his hands covering his face as he shouts for Steve.

“God damnit! Why the hell did you just leave me?”

Steve takes a step forward, words desperate to spill out, but nothing falls from his lips. His mouth has been sewn shut.

No, Bucky. I’m sorry, God. I’m so sorry.

“End of the line, pal. That’s what you promised me.”

He’s standing up now, staring at the blonde with such unadulterated hatred, that Steve nearly shrinks against the power of it.

“Useless.”

He turns at the sudden change of voice that drifts from over his shoulder.

“Pathetic, can’t even save his best friend.”

Peggy Carter saunters across the ship, looking just like he last saw her in 1945. Red lips, bouncing curls, a heated look that stems from a place of disgust. She stands next to Bucky, a hand on her hip, another on his shoulder as she breaks him down with a single glare.

“Captain America, everyone.”

Rockets go off overhead. He watches the explosions in the pitch midnight skies, just for blood and guts to rain down on him. He furiously tries to wipe the sensation of sickly liquid from his eyes, crouching down as it hails upon him, obscuring his vision. He’s drowning under it.

But it’s not blood.

As his body begins to burn, his arms reach out - trying to grasp hold of anything, god anything - but his hands slice through the frozen Arctic waters. And he can feel it burning his throat, his lungs. Helpless bubbles escape his lips, but his screams can’t be heard through the silence of an endless void. Dark as the evening sky, endless as a black hole.

His body sinks as all feeling is drawn from his extremities, and he is cold, oh so very cold. So cold that he burns. And he is alone. Completely alone.

And he has failed.

Failed them all.

As his vision swims in and out of focus and he accepts his fate, his body submerging further and further, his failures fill his mind.

The names and the people he had never managed to save.

Their cries.

Their screams.

He deserves this.

This terrible fate.

It is his to grab, his consolation prize.

He sinks to the ocean floor.

“NO! You’re just making him angrier!” You call out, with your hands around Blonsky’s neck as he tries to throw you against the exterior walls of the museum.

“YOU SAID USE MY FLARES.”

“Not while I’m on him!” You roar as he manages to knock you back even harder than the other seven times.

Sam circles around, lining up his sights just in front of the steps.

The tanks had already used up some of their ammo before the soldiers realized that the Abomination was practically indestructible. Which left you to deal with the creature’s renewed anger as he threw a tank directly at Sam.

He had managed to twist out of the way in time, but it definitely landed somewhere near Harrods. Sirens had been going off nonstop since your encounter began and the screams of terrified civilians had mostly faded away as the evacuation of the city took place.

Where the hell was Sersi when you needed her?

“Oh, come on!”

Blonsky shoulders the pillar outside of the museum, making rubble and roofing collapse down upon the two of you.

Using your strength to push it off, you find yourself pulled up by the ankle. His monstrous hand wraps itself around your limb, pulling you high over the steps of the museum’s entrance.

“Puny.”

You manage to pull yourself up enough to look at him, “What did you call me?”

He smirks, fanged teeth gleaming a sickly yellow as he shakes your limp form like a ragdoll before pulling back and tossing you.

Your body soars through the air before a rough set of arms wraps around you.

“Got you!” Sam shouts as he leans right, trying to avoid a ball of concrete thrown at the two of you.

“God, he’s relentless.”

You fix the Falcon with a look that says all that you were unwilling to scream in Sam’s face as he quickly deposits you back on the ground.

“He’s really starting to piss me off.”

You barely manage to veer out of the way of a lamppost.

“What a shame.”

Against the frozen waters, against his own body’s desire to let go, he blinks open his eyes.

“Ma?”

Sarah Rogers, not looking a day over thirty, glances up at him from her rocking chair near the fireplace, her knitting needles in hand. Though she puts them down as she settles him with a tired look.

“I thought I had raised you better than that?”

Steve blinks a second time, then a third.

His hands drop down to his sides as his feet settle onto the solid wood floor of their old tenement apartment. He glances behind him, at the lone window. It’s a sea of darkness outside. The only light permeates from his mother’s glow and the low embers of the flickering flames.

“Did I raise you like that?”

“No, ma’am,” he answers, quick and sure.

“I thought I told you to stand up. Never back down from a fight. Yet… here you are.”

She gestures vaguely at him, at the room.

Storm surge rocks against the old walls, coiling up and slamming the door with renewed force.

“You’re destined for something bigger than this and you’re not going to get your answers at the bottom of the sea, are you?”

He shakes his head, feeling every bit like a young child under his mother’s gaze.

She rises from her chair, darning set aside.

“Come on then. Straight back, chin up, eyes forward.”

He does exactly that, going to perfect attention. And he can almost feel the ghost of her hand on his cheek as she looks up at him with a long-forgotten admiration that only a mother’s eyes can give.

The powerful waves slam into the door once again, causing the wood to creak and the window’s glass to crack.

“Pull yourself up, Steve Rogers.”

The water rushes in, bursting through the windows and extinguishing the fire. His mother and the apartment are sucked up by the glossy darkness of the ocean. But he kicks his feet, strains against the burning in his lungs and his limbs, as he surges for the surface. Giving it everything he can as he rises, higher and higher. And he can almost see the light when a hand appears in front of his face -

“Hey, how many fingers am I holding up?”

He blinks against the sudden change, pulling back slightly and squeezing his eyes hard to fight against it.

“Come on, Cap. I can’t wrangle Nat and Thor by myself.”

And then reality settles back into place.

He lets out a breath.

He is Steve Rogers.

He is Captain America.

And he needs to shove his shit away and be a leader right now.

Pushing off from the crates, he eases himself up, with Clint’s help and a pained groan.

From across the floor of the ship, he can see Nat situated on the bottom of the grated stairs; head in hand. Thor is leaning against the railing up above them all. They both look like they’ve been through the wringer a few times over.

He stares at the archer, pulling his helmet off as he surveys the damage. There’s no sight of Ultron or the girl anywhere. Just four heroes lingering in their defeat.

“What the hell just happened?”

In the distance, he can hear the horrid sound of the Hulk’s screams echoing off of the ship’s walls.

“Let’s recap later?” Clint suggests, shouldering his bow as he moves to help Nat up.

Steve stares up at Thor, who’s already returning his look with one of pure fear. He’s never been so uneased before as he is seeing that haunted look in the god’s eyes. But their situation isn’t changing and standing here won’t even begin to help them, so he picks up his shield and does what he knows how to do; lead.

Sam flew too low, his wing’s been snapped right off the pack, and he is at the mercy of the Abomination.

“Come on, focus! You know you want to take it out of me. I’m the one who locked you away, remember?”

You’ve positioned yourself right in front of the other man, sword at the ready. Verbal threats spitting like fire from the tip of your tongue to distract him, to hold his focus away from the very vulnerable human behind you.

Blonsky brushes you to the side with a swipe of his massive arm, throwing you off balance. Sam backs down the steps of the museum’s entrance, armed and ready to fight. But he must know that mere bullets won’t even deter the creature.

And then, from across the white rooftops of the English city street, a charging whoosh rocks you both back, as fifty Legion bots come soaring to the rescue.

The Abomination does his best to beat them back, but they quickly overpower him, jumping on top of his back until he’s buried under the weight of metallic drones.

There, in the aftermath of destruction, surrounded by crumbling buildings and sirens and armed officers and broken tanks, Blonsky submits to his defeat. Pushing yourself back to your feet, sweat dripping from your brow, you sheath your sword.

“You good?” you call out to Sam.

He taps down his chest and thighs, a little breathless as he answers, “Still intact, still breathin’.”

You give him a nod. It was all you could hope for after that encounter. Moving toward him, you pick up the broken piece of his wing pack. He frowns at it.

“Thank god for Tony, at least.”

He looks over at the pile of drones, still squirming slightly as they try to keep the monster pinned down. Blonsky’s gilled face is peeking out from the bottom of the pile, he blows a raspberry with his tongue - unable to do much more than that.

“Must have fixed the interface or something,” you sigh, brushing at the dirt and grime on your bare arms. Striding over toward the pile, you ask the first bot you see, “Do we have transport ready?”

“Everything is ready to transport the Abomination,” comes the monotone reply.

You give them a nod, lightly tap Blonsky on the cheek - he growls in return, but is completely incapable of moving - before you return to Sam.

“Okay, let’s wrap this up. I’ll talk to the captain in charge and get everything secured.”

He absently rubs at his arm, staring at the pile of robots atop the mutated creature, “Bet Steve’s having a hell of a lot easier time than we just did.”

Giving a smile in return, you say, “We can only hope,” before you walk over to the approaching soldiers to finish off the last-minute details of Blonsky’s transfer. 

A group of journalists and camera-wielding reporters try to push past the barricade to get a good shot of the final moments, all eyes on Blonsky and Tony’s legion bots.

The tower is quietly humming when you and Sam pop back into the lab. Maria startles from behind her laptop. Her suit jacket is removed and she has her hair pulled back tight, with a troubling look on her face as you both laugh.

“Remind me to never team up with you again. No solo missions with the Warrior Queen,” Sam smirks, removing his goggles at last.

“I’ll try not to take that too much to heart,” you smile in return. But then your gaze meets the agent’s, and your joyful mood sinks. “What? What’s happened?”

“Tony. He’s had to call in Veronica.”

Sam’s head tilts to the side.

“Who’s Veronica?”

Maria sighs, “You mean what is Veronica.”

As you both turn to look at each other in confusion, she pulls up a video - a live feed - of a giant Iron Man suit currently pummeling Hulk into the pavement. Eyes widen in horror, you watch on as the cameraperson ducks into a doorway as the Hulk chucks a giant piece of concrete at the suit.

“What the hell happened?” Sam questions, hands poised on his hips.

“Unknown,” she clips. “Something attacked the away team - ”

You feel fear clutch at your throat like a skeletal hand.

“ - only Barton was able to get through to me. He’s got the others now, in the quinjet. But, obviously, Banner’s situation is becoming a concern.”

“I can go.”

Sam pushes at your arm, “You just took on a Hulk. And, no offense, if it wasn’t for the Legion jumping in - ”

“I had him on the ropes. He was getting worn down. Another chokehold and I would have - ”

Maria holds up a hand, silencing you both.

“Sam. What did you just say?”

He opens and closes his mouth for just a moment before he answers, “I get that she’s got the godly powers and all, but if it wasn’t for Stark’s pals coming in to save our asses, I’m not sure how great we’d be walking about from that all right now.”

She blinks.

“What are you talking about?”

“Tony, he sent in the Legion. There were like, what, fifty of them?” you question toward Sam, and he nods at your assessment.

“Stark didn’t - we didn’t. Oh my god.”

She spins away so fast, that you almost feel whiplash from it.

“Are you saying - ”

Maria already has a phone to her ear, “No we didn’t release any of the Legion, are you insane? Why would you think that - Yes, hello? Do you currently have the Abomination in hand?”

You take a step forward, brows furrowing, “I secured handover with Captain Randall myself.”

With a long-suffering sigh, she tucks the speaker into her neck. 

“While you might have done that, those drones clearly had something else in mind. He’s missing. And I can assure you, neither this tower nor the government sent in anyone other than the British military to assist in that operation.”

In an instant, your heart sinks, guilt and terror rising through your chest like hot magma as you question what have I done? Horrified eyes land on Sam, who looks equally startled by the revelation.

Maria listens to the caller for a minute more before she asks you, “Did they identify themselves?”

With delayed horror, you realize that, “No, they didn’t.”

“Okay, yes then. We are dealing with an armed force. Likely all stemming from a central command point. I am aware, yes - ” she trails off, moving out of the lab, but not before flashing her stern eyes at the two of you.

You drop down onto the nearest stool.

“How did I not know? How the hell did I not suspect - ”

Sam kneels down, holding a hand to your forearm, “I didn’t either. I didn’t say one damn word when I saw them.”

“But I should have known! Tony would have never let the Legion out this soon after the AI was corrupted. Cronus, they’re probably connected right to the rogue bot. And now, now, they have Strucker, and the scepter, and the Abomination!”

You scrub your hands down your face, dragging the skin in aggravation at your own pitiful lapse of intelligent thinking. How could you not have known or even suspected just for one second -

“Okay,” Maria sighs, returning to the lab. “One sliver of good news is that we have Banner in transport now. He’s unconscious, but he’s been secured. At least… that threat’s over.”

“But I’ve just made another one,” you surmise, shame drenching your expression.

Before she can even speak, something whips right past her - sending the loose papers from the file boxes flying up in a sudden flurry. They scatter across the room like falling leaves in autumn as you all turn to stare at the new presence in the room.

“You know,” the thick-accented boy with shock white hair gleams, arms crossed as he plucks his fingers against the edge of her laptop. “This place is not nearly as secure as you would expect it to be.”

Bruce is deposited like a heap in the middle of the jet. Tony drapes a thick grey blanket around his shoulders as he gives a cursory glance around at the rest of the battle-worn team.

When Steve had been pulled out of that vision, he didn’t expect to hear the Hulk’s roars. Let alone for Tony to suit up and send one of his strongest armors out against their fellow teammate. Even if it had been entirely necessary, considering the circumstances.

The billionaire’s eyes drift over to Steve, and whatever he sees in the supersoldier’s eyes makes him shudder and press forward with a strange rigidity to his posture.

He’s talking to Maria, that much he knows. But Steve can’t really make out any of the conversation as the images and the words from his vision float around in his mind. The blood and guts, Bucky and Peggy, drowning in an endless abyss of darkness and silence.

Across from him, Natasha is silent, curled in on herself on the bench. Her body silently quakes with violent tremors and her emerald eyes are distant, as though she’s still stuck in her own nightmare. Clint’s speaking to her in low tones, rubbing her back. Steve looks away.

“Blonsky, really?”

His ears perk up as he glances around the corner to see Tony perched at the controls, a phone pressed to his ear.

“And Wilson? Good on them, hope they make it in one piece.”

He gives a hollow laugh at his own joke, but his lips don’t even crack into a smile.

“No, we’re just gonna… keep off the radar and… I don’t know, figure it out.”

Steve looks down at his lap, his fingers are clenched together in a weak fist. There’s tension in his shoulders and he doesn’t know if he wants to exhale a breath or punch a wall. The dichotomy of his own feelings is so scrambled together that he’s not even entirely sure what he is feeling right now.

Only that he aches.

Aches in a way that even the sensation of drowning can’t fully encompass.

It feels like his head isn’t properly screwed on right now; like he took one too many blows. But he knows that isn’t the case. Hell, he was knocked over just like when he was 90 lbs soaking wet. He hadn’t even been a match for that singular robot. Let alone the girl.

Apparently, when he asked Thor and tried to question Natasha, he was the only one who had actually seen her face. Clint had shot at her, from behind, but she had been whisked away by the drone before she was able to force a painful vision upon him.

If that had been the girl that those files from Strucker had been referring to, then, Steve could only wonder, where the hell was the other one? The boy with enhanced speed?

But, as he stares at the broken expressions resting on his team’s faces, he decides that at this moment, he could honestly care less. So, he turns in on himself even further and closes his eyes. Willing the darkness behind his eyelids to not remind him of frozen Arctic waters.

“Where is he, the one with his name on the tower?” The boy aimlessly kicks at a stool. “Bombing another populace perhaps?”

Maria aims her gun at him, hammer cocked.

“You need to step away - ”

Before she can even finish the sentence, he’s standing beside you, holding your sword in hand.

You quickly pluck it from his grasp, staring in slight horror at the fact that you hadn’t even felt him grab it, let alone seen him move across the room.

“Touchy,” he comments playfully as he circles both you and Sam.

“The hell do you want, kid?”

The boy, who’s barely even a foot shorter than Sam, merely shrugs as he continues to move toward Maria, entirely unbothered by the Glock pointed at his face.

And then, like the slow-rising sun, it dawns on you.

“You’re the mutant, from Strucker’s lab.”

He pauses, for just a second to look at you before he rolls his shoulders and smiles, “Guilty.”

“What do you want?” your brows furrow.

“Peace, in our time.”

Sam leans his head toward you, “That sounds familiar.”

Maria huffs, “Been talking to the killer robot, have you?”

“See, he’s a very convincing man.”

“He’s manipulating you,” you say, plain and even.

The boy stops, turning to stare at your face. Something glimmers in his cool eyes, but he blinks it away.

“He said you would say that.”

Sam snorts, “How surprising.”

“Come on kid,” Maria implores. “That thing, whatever it promised you, is not worth it. He’s not going to be the thing that protects you or saves you. Either of you.”

His eyes sharpen at her final words.

“And you will? Friends of Stark? The man who drops bombs on babies and children? How about the man who watches a city crumble to ruins and walks away when he’s done in the spotlight?”

“You think Ultron can do better?”

He shrugs again, leaning against the workbench, “I don’t know. London looks good right now.”

Sam shoots you a look.

“But I digress,” he smiles, bashfully shaking out his hair before he meets your eyes. “For the Goddess of Knowledge, you really are oblivious.”

Your gaze hardens.

“Meaning?”

A shot rings out, blasting through the lab as an explosion rocks the floor - hardware and files shooting up into the air before crashing down upon the three of you, fire breaking out across the electronics, and the glass windows overlooking the lab below shatter.

You hold out your arm, blocking Sam from a falling file cabinet.

The boy’s already at the entrance to the lab, grinning ear to ear.

“What? You didn’t see that coming?”

As he zips away, disappearing in a flash, another face comes into view. A masked face.

“Hey, sweetheart. I was really wondering when we’d get to finish our little fight?”

The flashing red and white lights begin going off overhead as Maria pulls the fire alarm - a sharp wailing joins the chaos - as Rumlow points his gun directly at you and Sam.

You end up donkey-kicking Sam to the side as you roll to avoid his fire. The ex-STRIKE member gives a maniacal laugh as he chases you across the lab with his gun. Bullets ricochet across the workbenches and the walls as you dive and twist to avoid him.

“God, like shooting fish in a fucking barrel,” he gleams. You can’t see the smile behind his mask, but you can hear it in his voice. That sick voice of his.

“Incoming!” Sam hollers from across the room.

And you watch, in horror, as a Legion bot comes soaring past - right through the shattered windows into the secondary lab a floor below. 

Unwilling to have another failure, another moment pass you by, you take a bullet right to the calve as you jump up and go running after the drone. Followed by another to your left flank and shoulder. Through the broken window frame you go, cutting your skin in the process, as you crash onto the metal grated floor.

With thrumming terror in your chest, you can only stare as the robots around you - all that had been offline since the first breakout - now power on. Their blue optical lenses flash red for just the briefest of moments before they turn to look at you. And you see it before it happens, but you’re powerless to stop it as they surge toward you. As the physical force of the drones presses into you, you find yourself pushed further and further down the tunnel, toward the entrance; the exterior door of the tower.

Your body is pushed into the metal and you can feel your lungs burn as the weight settles against them and you can’t even let out a scream of rage before the door caves around you and you begin to freefall - with a hundred Legion members flying after you.

Like a swarm, the white-colored bots zoom past, surrounding you, crushing you, as you fall to the ground like a lead weight. The floors of the tower zoom past on your right, and you’re bracing yourself for impact as the air rushes up past you, and people begin screaming.

Your body lands with a sickening aftershock, caving through the pavement and the dirt, deep past the sewers, into the underground tunnel of the subway system.

For a few, terrifying moments, your head swims - your vision blurred and your heart beating out of your chest. Each and every extremity aches in a way that isn’t even describable. But, as the breath slowly releases from your weary lungs, you blink at the overhead halo of sunlight beaming down upon your prone form on the tracks.

And then, you sit up.

Pain eases from your back as you press up onto your knees, bits of gravel falling off your skin, before moving to your feet.

A roar, feral and animalistic shoots out from your throat as you call forward your weaponry and leap out of the massive hole that had been burrowed into the Earth.

The street is in pure chaos when you land on the sidewalk. Above you, the tower’s circled by a smoke plume. Someone crashes into you, and you try to righten to the woman, but she’s in such a state of panic that she just scrambles to her feet and continues running.

And that’s when, above the screams and the sirens, you hear the sound of creaking metal.

You take a step back, then another, and another.

Stark Tower is ablaze, a massive hole torn from the side of the structure where the bots had escaped. But the broken windows have flames billowing out of them like dragon’s breath. And nothing short of pure horror coats your body as you realize that it is happening again.

With fear powering you forward, you go running for the entrance to the building where hundreds of employees and agents are quickly exiting the doors of. The lobby is in shambles like a gunfight had taken place - where one very likely took place. But you push past the crowds of scared humans and make for the stairs.

But those too are crowded, nearly impassible.

Now, stuck with the realization of what was to come, you do all that you can do.

“Come on, this way! Hurry,” you call out, directing the flow of traffic. As the upper floors begin to creak and whine.

“What the hell?”

Steve, having had a few minutes to pull himself together, glances up from his place next to Natasha, as Tony’s confused voice reaches his ears.

He gives the assassin a reassuring pat on the shoulder before he stands and makes his way over to the billionaire.

The supersoldier doesn’t see it at first, but then they clear another cloud, and Steve’s eyes spot the massive plume of blackened smoke rising high above the Manhattan skyline.

“Can’t get through to Hill,” Tony bites, jamming his finger on button after button.

“Holy shit,” Clint gawks, peering over the console alongside them.

The jet soars past the buildings of the Lower East Side. News helicopters are circling the area, and Steve has a concerning feeling settling in his chest as he realizes what building is currently ablaze.

“I leave for two minutes,” Tony clips, eyes glued on the sight in front of them as the quinjet grows closer. And then he presses further forward, “Was that…? Barton, did I just see - ”

The archer nods, “Yeah, man. That was definitely one of your Legion guys.”

Steve pushes closer, twisting his neck slightly to look out the same direction as Clint. And, sure enough, he spots it in the sky. Two, no - three, bots residing on the roof of a building near the Tower.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Tony intones, disbelief clouding his words. “See if I ever leave Hill in charge again.”

But the humor drops like an enemy shell as they all watch in horror as the smoke begins to emit from the lower levels of the tower, breaking through several floors of windows before the top half starts to sag.

“No, no, no, no,” Tony begins chanting as he pushes the throttle forward, nearly sending Clint and Steve tumbling backward. “THOR,” he roars back. “Do something useful!”

The god in question raises an arched brow before he heads toward the opening ramp of the jet, hammer in hand. But they all know, especially at that moment, that there is nothing even Thor can do to stop the crumbling building from falling.

And so, the three of them stare as the upper levels of the tower begin to sink down upon the lower levels.

The street is little more than brown ash and rubble as you push the pile of concrete from your back. You can hear the screams already ringing out for help, and your chest is in your throat because you remember this exact moment, but you were completely useless to prevent this.

And so, you begin to hobble across the destroyed ruins of the tower, following after the voices of terrified civilians. You had nearly evacuated everyone when the building began to crumble down upon itself. You had even seen a white-haired boy zip past with a masked man before everything went dark; he had stopped briefly to give you a dainty wave before they disappeared in a flash into the crowd.

There were two others with you in the stairwell when everything came down. You had used your shield and your own strength to protect them. And, bless the gods, it had been enough. But the fates of Sam and Maria were still a mystery to you. You could only hope and pray that they had made their way out somehow.

“I got you,” you call out as you locate a woman whose leg has been pinched by a sheet of glass. Blood stains the debris-ridden street around her and you know, that even by human standards, it would be a miracle if she didn’t pass from blood loss in the next minute.

But you lean down and hold her hand in one tight grip as you begin to survey the damage.

“I can assist.”

Your eyes widen as a Legion bot appears. The immediate instinct is the deck the creature in its artificial voicebox. But you resist.

And instead, give a defeated, “Okay.”

The drone holds out its hand, freezing the wound before it successfully pulls the glass from her body. You hold her hand as she lets out a gut-wrenching scream.

An AI voice speaks over the sound of terror, “Coordination with EMS and FDNY in progress. Proceed to Grand Central Station…”

You give a weary nod at the robot as you back up, allowing the woman to be lifted up by the drone who then carries her away. Watching them go, your gaze lingers for just a moment longer, before the screams return to your ears, and your body moves back into motion.

Through the damage and the broken pillars of Stark Tower, you find others. All are being attended to by Legion bots.

“This is madness.”

Thor touches down beside you, a troubling furrow to his brow as he surveys the damage.

“They are not to be trusted.”

You gesture at the one nearest the two of you, one that is applying a tourniquet to a man in a suit, “They’re helping.”

“Are they?”

“What would you have us do here? Fight them?”

Just then, a bot walks directly in front of you, its visual optics are glowing neon red.

“Perhaps, Athena Parthenos, you should.”

It shoots you, point blank, in the chest.

Thor roars, slamming his hammer down upon the bot’s head.

You lift your head from the street where you’ve been shot back, “Thor! Don’t engage them - ”

But he’s already turned to the next available Legion bot, eyes glowing a terrifying blue as he hollers, “I will tear you limb from limb!”

You’re on your feet in a second, sword to his throat.

“And I will knock you into unconsciousness if you even think of laying a hand upon them.”

He turns, eyes blazing with fury as he stares down at you. You drop your sword to your side. 

“What madness has befallen you? Have you not seen what they have done? What they are capable of?”

“All I see is a man set on vengeance.”

“I am no mere man.”

He brushes past you, hammer held aloft.

“Thor, please. Don’t make me - ”

But he just shakes his head, as if disgusted by your very presence, and lifts off from the ground. You can see the flapping red cape that drags behind him as he soars down the street. His hammer clobbers three Legion bots, and a dark cloud looms over him, as he lands - ready to fight.

With a long-suffering sigh, you survey the people around you. Everyone who appears to be injured is being attended to.

Having no other choice, you take off down the street - jumping over every obstacle in your way. While your heart seemed to ache with the position you were being placed in, you knew what you had to do.

They’re unable to land the jet. Instead, they circle the area, watching on as more and more drones flood the cityscape. Tony still can’t get into contact with Hill and is instead trying to get through to someone at SHIELD, which is also proving to be a fruitless endeavor.

Behind him, Bruce is still knocked clean out and Natasha only now seems to be coming back to her senses. Though she’s still in no fit state to do much of anything. And even Steve can feel the hesitation in Barton as his eyes flicker between the chaotic streets and the spy.

“Just one thing after the fucking next,” Tony mutters, dialing another set of numbers into his phone.

And they’re just sitting up here, doing nothing as more robots dive down into the city and people are probably stuck under rubble and injured and Steve can feel that impatience rising like a rocket in his chest and he needs to do something before he jumps out of the damn jet himself and -

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

At that, he glances back over at Tony.

“If the world could just stop falling to pieces for one goddamn second!”

“What is it?”

“Well, ignoring the mass panic happening down below, and the likely high number of casualties, and the possible murder bots running rampant, we currently have two mythical beings trying to rip each other’s heads off down on Fifth Avenue.”

Tony turns in his seat, hands folded in his lap as if presenting this news to Steve brought him only further frustration. Like an exhausted principal faced with his most unruly students.

Steve blinks.

“What?”

But then he sees the storm clouds looming closer and shocks of lightning lighting up across the sky and he just knows, in an instant, that what Tony is referring to is truly a worst-case scenario.

The billionaire stands with a sigh, slapping the back of Steve’s shoulder as he passes.

“Come on, Cap. We’re tapping in.”

He turns, watching as Tony summons his suit. Before the face mask can fall into place, he fixes the supersoldier with a tired look, “Too bad I used up Veronica, huh? Hey, Legolas, take the controls. Try not to shoot any smoldering buildings while you’re at it.”

Clint gives a little salute as he situates himself into the seat Tony had just vacated, appearing slightly pale himself.

He looks on at his shield, an object that seems heavier now than ever as he follows Tony off the ramp - soaring down to the city streets together.

They’re about a block off, but Tony flies past him, leaving Steve to jog after him. He has to ignore the lost-looking civilians, covered in soot and debris, crying out for help - for him to help. Because he’s already faced Ultron and a mutant today and the amount of destruction that caused the five of them was more than enough. The last thing they needed was for you and Thor to eviscerate the damn city in the aftermath.

“Whoa!”

You crash into a row of garbage cans next to him, having been thrown several yards by the shock of violent lightning. He’s bending down in an instant to help you up, but you push past him, blinders on and oblivious to everything else around you.

“Will you just listen to me!” you roar, jumping up high above both him and the lamp posts as you throw your spear at the Asgardian.

Tony takes the hit, blocking the weapon with his arm.

“Okay, time-fucking-out!”

Thor zooms past him, knocking Tony to the side as he collides with you in mid-air. His hand wraps itself into your hair and pulls back hard enough to make you scream as you knock your head right into his.

As if snapping out of a daze, Steve throws his shield up at Thor - knocking into the God’s side and making him release his hold on you. He goes careening to the street, body slamming into the debris-ridden ground multiple times before he slumps into a heap about a block away from the three of you.

You drop down just a few feet from the supersoldier. Doubled over, ragged breaths being pulled violently inward as you summon your dory back to your side.

“Stay out of this,” you warn.

Steve moves forward, tugging on your forearm, forcing you to look at him.

“This isn’t the way.”

Your expression darkens, “He’s trying to destroy the bots, even the ones assisting the injured!”

“And you’re doing what, exactly?”

Tony hovers above you, dropping down a few feet with his thrusters.

“Actively destroying the city over a pissing match? Sound familiar, right?”

God, the forest in Germany. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. And here Tony was, throwing your own words right back at you.

They seem to work, however, as shame clouds your features. Dipping your chin down, you utter, “I wasn’t even… Cronus, I wasn’t even thinking - ”

“Hey,” Steve chides, voice going soft as he draws his hand down your arm just to slip it into your left hand. “We’ve been through a lot, but we need to stop this before someone else gets hurt.”

Your eyes are nearly brimming with tears when you dare to look up at him and his heart fucking aches seeing such blatant emotion on your face. But you nod, quickly looking up to Tony.

“We need to regroup. We’re no good here right now.”

“Yup,” he immediately agrees.

Thor is sauntering closer, looking ready for another bout.

“I know a place, but we need to calm him down before anyone goes anywhere.”

You turn away from the towering blonde then, moving further down the street, toward the ruins of the smoldering tower, leaving Steve and Tony to verbally subdue the God of Thunder.

It takes several minutes, the majority of which Thor looks like he’s ready to stalk off after you, or worse yet, take his anger out on one of the nearby drones. But Steve spots a journalist over Thor’s shoulder and Tony instantly guides them toward the jet - still hovering above the city.

You’re aboard, sitting beside Natasha. Your weapons are gone and your face is ashen. And, as Steve approaches with his helmet in hand, he can only make out the fact that you’re both quietly conversing in Russian to avoid anyone else overhearing - even him.

“Okay,” Tony settles back into the pilot’s seat. 

Thor stays near the back of the quinjet, purposefully avoiding the rest of the team as he paces, anger clear as day on his face.

“Where to, Double-O?”

You pause, looking up, narrowly avoiding Steve’s eyes. But they meet all the same, and god, he just wants to hug you right now. Because you’re locked in your own suffering and he’s still haunted by the visions swimming in his mind. But you gently brush past him to speak to Tony.

“Here,” you say, leaning down to set the coordinates yourself. “We’ll be out of the city, off-grid.”

“Can’t ask for much better right now, can we?” he sighs, flicking the autopilot into gear.

You remain by the controls, watching as the city zooms past. 

As they escape; as they disappear. Leaving a city in ruins, Steve tries to reset his thinking, but even then, he knows they might be making a massive mistake.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

[muddyorbsblr]

all i could give you

See my full list of works here!

Summary: It seems that nearly the entirety of Asgard had forgotten that today was supposed to be a day of celebration. Everyone but you, at least.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: some cuss words; sad Loki hours; mentions of Odin being a douche rocket of a father; Thor and the W4 being shitty friends

Things to be aware of: besties to lovers

Today's training session had gone on incessantly longer than usual, keeping you and your warrior friends in the training fields for hours more than necessary. All because Thor had thought it a grand idea to showcase his superior might by holding a friendly competition amongst yourselves. 

It took him three quarters of an hour just to best Volstagg. And then another half hour each for Fandral and Hogun. And now he and Sif were sparring away as they had been for the past twenty minutes, your leg bouncing from your impatience as you awaited your turn so that you could all finally part ways.

And then you could go find Loki and give him your present. After all, it wasn't every day that one turned a thousand years old. 

"Excited to land on your behind, Lady Y/N?" Fandral jested, motioning toward your bouncing leg. "Worry not. Thor and Sif should be finished in a while." 

"I just wish to conclude our session, that's all," you answered him, offering no explanation. After all, it should be known what today is. Truly, you wondered how come there hadn't been any celebration throughout the castle this entire day. Why everyone had gone on as if this were any regular day.

Surely they hadn't forgotten. Had they? 

"You are usually so patient, my friend," Volstagg commented. "What has you in such a state?" 

You eyed the three warriors in incredulity. "Do you truly not know?" They shook their heads slowly, apprehensively, as if they were cautious of how you would react if they said or did the wrong thing. "Norns help me, you all of you are hopeless. According to the Midgardian calendars, today is the 17th of December." 

"And that date should ring in the significance you showcase because…?" You glared at Fandral, wishing more than anything that you could scar his smug face from that comment alone. "Do not look at me like that, my friend, I only wish to know--"

"Languish in your ignorance," you told the three of them as Sif fell to the ground, Thor bellowing in victory as he pointed his weapon toward you and called you forth. "Finally." 

Your bout with the god of thunder did not take too long. You went into the training field unarmed, deftly evading his swings and avoiding getting knocked down to the ground. When the tender area under his chest was unguarded, you used the momentum behind your evasive maneuvers to bring your elbow in hard at the tender spot, knocking the air out of his lungs and loosening his hold on his training sword.

And then you reached for his weapon, easily disarming him, and pointing the blunt tip to his throat. "Yield, Son of Odin," you bellowed for the benefit of the four warriors watching with their jaws dropped as the crown prince of the realm put his hands up in surrender. "Right. That's that, then. Have we finished? Can we leave?" 

The blond prince chuckled as he undid the fastenings of his leather breastplate. "What has you in such an impatience, my friend? And who taught you that maneuver?" 

"Loki," you answered simply, knowing that he would take that as the answer to the second question. In truth, it was the answer to both. "He accepted long ago that he wouldn't be as strong a warrior as you, so he chose to observe. To evolve into a smarter one instead. And since you and your friends--"

"Our friends," he corrected you. "Do not forget you are one of us too, Lady Y/N." 

Yes, but I do not hold a title, all thanks to your father deciding not to reward those who have aligned themselves more with Loki than yourself, you thought bitterly. "Right, then…our friends…since you and our friends have insisted on not playing with him, he figured that someone should have the privilege of knocking you on your arse, so he taught me the maneuver." 

"Ever the strategic one, my brother," Thor commented, his tone surprisingly holding a touch of fondness rather than contempt. "Anyway, the Warriors Four and myself are going out on the town, fill ourselves with mead to our heart's content. Would you care to join us?" 

"You're going out drinking? Today?" There was more bite to your tone now as he shrugged. "Thor. My friend. Please tell me you know what today is." 

"The end of the week," he answered so casually it made your skin prickle in irritation. "Midgardians would call it…Saturday. Why? Where are you off to?" 

You shook your head, clicking your tongue in disappointment. "When you finally realize what today is, how important today should have been for you, you will feel a fool. For choosing to waste away today in the company of our friends, drinking to your heart's content out on the streets of Asgard." With the people who had also forgotten him. 

With your words of disdain, you marched over to your belongings, picking up the satchel that held your present. "I take it you're off to spend the day with my brother then?" Thor called out toward you. 

You threw your hand in a thumbs up gesture toward him, not once looking back or breaking your stride. "Where else would I go?" you whispered into the empty hall, moving as fast as your feet could carry you toward your dearest friend's chambers. 

When you walked through the golden double doors, it didn't take long to find him; in fact, it took no time at all since he was at the steps of the entryway, sitting with his posture slouched, shoulders slumped, head hung down. Your heart broke for him. It broke at the sight of him. You never could take it whenever he was in such a sullen mood; it was as if someone had taken all the light from your world and snuffed it out with one look at his downcast eyes. 

"What's wrong, dear prince?" You did your best to keep your tone light as you moved to take a seat next to him, a feat in itself as you noted his red-rimmed eyes, his cheeks already wet from the tears shed. "Oh, sweet boy," you choked out, tears of your own beginning to flood your vision as you pulled him into an embrace, stroking the top of his head. "What has gotten you in such a state? On a day as important as today, no less?" 

"What do you know of today?" he mumbled into your shoulder, the sound of his sniffling breaking your heart even more. 

"What do I know of today?" you repeated, an attempt at playful incredulity coloring your tone. "The day of your thousandth birthday? I know that it should be a day of celebration. That there should have been greetings coming your way from all directions. That I should have had a difficult time even getting here, shouldering my way through hordes of adoring well-wishers. That is what I know today should have been. And I know that I am livid at every single soul who forgot." 

Your father being at the top of that list, you finished in the privacy of your mind. I should have his head for forgetting about you. When he had arranged such a grand fortnight of festivities when it was Thor's turn a few years back. 

You let out a broken exhale as you felt him wrap his arms around you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he breathed out, "Where were you?" 

"Training ran late," you explained, your voice strained from holding back your own tears. "I used that maneuver you taught me. Put your brother on his arse." 

"I feared you'd forgotten, too." His voice came out so uncharacteristically muted, so faint that that alone could have broken you. But his words were ultimately what had the tears finally falling from your eyes. "The rest of Asgard could forget for all I damn well care, but you? I would not bear it if you--"

"Never," you cut him off. "I would never forget." You pressed a kiss to his temple as you made a motion to move away. "In fact, that's why I came here. To give you your present." 

Once he'd pulled away, breaking your embrace, he immediately placed his hands on the sides of your face, a mixture of concern and pain in his eyes as he eyed the little nicks on your face from your training with the warriors. "You're hurt…" You held your breath as he proceeded to heal each wound with his seiðr, the way he had done so for the last half millennium, pressing his lips to the injured skin. 

Your heart pounded in your chest as he pressed kisses to your temples, your cheeks, and finally to your chin. All places where one of your friends' weapons had struck you today. Long gone were the times where you would protest this particular act of care from him, since he would insist and it would be this lengthy bout of bickering between you two that ultimately ended in him healing you anyway.

Besides, it was laughable for you to protest, seeing as this would be the only manner in which Loki would kiss you. You'd be a fool to turn down even the fleeting attention of the man you loved. 

"There you are," he breathed out, a small smile breaking through as he looked upon your healed face. You reached into your satchel and pulled out the wrapped parcel, placing it in his hands. "Y/N…"

You'd once again found yourself holding your breath as he unwrapped your present: a blank grimoire you had custom made by one of the bookbinders in the kingdom, the leather set in his signature green, the hardware a brilliant, shining gold. 

"I thought merchants only made these in--"

"In your brother's colors, the imbeciles," you finished for him. "I may have persuaded one of them to make this one special. One of a kind. Just like you." He turned his gaze towards you, your chest tightening with unspoken emotions as he looked at you with an expression you could not fathom in his eyes. "Granted, I had to be the one to provide them their supplies since they couldn't be bothered. Again. Imbeciles." 

He took your hands in his, gently running his thumbs along each of your fingertips. "That day when you arrived at training with cuts on your hands? You were plucking leaves?" 

You simply nodded. "Did you know that it takes ten thousand leaves to make a dye that potent? And that Midgardians guard their gold in foolish little boxes so easily infiltrated?" you informed him with a proud smile. 

"You did all this--"

"I did," you answered his unfinished question. "And before you even ask me the why, because I know  you will ask me why, it is because you will be a master sorcerer one day. And you will need a place to store all the rituals and spells and potions that that brilliant mind will concoct." You finished your point by lightly touching your fingertips to his temple. 

When he removed the cover of the gold plated label, your heart ached at the sound of his slow intake of breath as he took in the engraving that said property of Prince Loki. "Darling is this in--"

"My hand, yes. It took a considerable learning curve but I got to make one that didn't have my blood etched in it eventually." 

"Those days you had cuts that smelled like metal shavings?" You nodded. 

"You remember those? Those were trivial wounds…I'd barely even call them--"

"I remember every one of them." He tucked his fingers under your chin, urging you to look up at him. "Y/N I cannot fathom--"

"It's not much, but I do still hope you--" 

He silenced you by pulling you into a tight embrace, once again nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, his fingers weaving into your hair. The sound of him sniffling tore at your heart once more. "It's perfect, Y/N. Just like you." 

You did not get to spend the rest of Loki's birthday with him. Not an hour after you'd given him his present, his mother arrived at his chambers, having prepared something herself to celebrate his first millennium. And much as he did try to bring you with him, almost resembling yourselves in your childhood years as he held on to your hand, you got him to relent to the sentiment that this  should simply be a moment shared between mother and son.

So the sound of knocking at your bedchamber door right as you were about to sleep was most definitely not something that you were expecting to hear. Let alone having it be Loki on the other side, looking at you as if there was a newfound knowledge in his eyes that he couldn't wait to share. 

"Shouldn't you be asleep, Your Highness?" 

"We are well past such formalities, Y/N. You know this," he evaded your question with a chuckle, bringing his hand up to cup the side of your face. You resisted the ridiculous urge to lean in to his touch. And the even more ridiculous thought of kissing his palm. 

"Not at this hour," you shot back. "The implications--"

"Fuck  the implications." He let out a low chuckle as your eyes widened  from his choice of words. "You are one of the people in this realm I hold most dear, I will not have you addressing me so formally." 

"Fine," you huffed, doing your damnedest to mask the thrill that ran through you. "What are you doing here, Loki?" 

"One of my mother's ladies in waiting informed me of a tradition on Midgard. About how a birthday celebrant is entitled to…kisses?" Your stomach dropped at the information, your mind immediately conjuring up a visual of him with his lips pressed to one of the queen's staff. "One for every year," he finished with a chuckle.

You forced a smile onto your face. "Well I'm sure that between all her ladies in waiting, each of which I'm positive are more than willing participants in this Midgardian tradition, you'd already reached your quota." The smile on his face faded as he eyed your face. 

"I turned them down," he said so simply, as if he was surprised it even needed to be pointed out. 

"Never known you as the type to turn down a perfectly willing woman. Why the change of heart?" 

He stepped toward you, placing his free hand at the curve of your waist, his other hand moving to cradle the back of your head, fingers weaving through your hair. "There has only been one woman I have wanted to kiss for the last few centuries. And the only times that I would get the chance to is when I heal her wounds." 

Your heart began to pound in your chest, so much so that you could swear that your pulse was in your ears. "Loki--"

"If I could choose who I would receive a thousand kisses from, I choose you." Tears began to flood your eyes at his words, a squeak getting caught at the back of your throat as you felt him softly press his lips to yours. "The woman I love." 

He pressed another quick kiss to your lips before you stupidly blurted out. "You love me?" 

"I do, my darling girl. And it would make not just my birthday, but my life, complete…if you would be mine. If I could court you." 

His words had you wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. "I love you, too. I'm yours. I'm all yours." 

"I would wish for more than a thousand kisses, though, my love." 

"How many then?" 

"All of them." He wrapped his arm around you and lifted you until your feet left the ground and he walked you both further into your bedchamber. 

"I think that can be arranged," you answered coyly, smiling into the next kiss. 

He set you back on your feet and pulled away, placing his hands at your waist. You eyed him as you felt a tinge of desperation make itself known within you, your body overcome with wanting more. 

"Though tonight I must probably go," he said, a mischievous smirk gracing his annoyingly perfect face. "The palace is rife with gossips. They could see me enter your bedchambers and start to think lurid thoughts if I do not leave in a timely fashion." The tone coloring his words was obviously teasing, and yet somehow it just stirred the desperation in you even more. "The implications--"

"Fuck the implications," you blurted out, repeating his own words from earlier, standing on the tips of your toes, your hands braced on his shoulders. You shamelessly let out a whimper as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours once more, bending down and lifting you into his arms in one fluid motion. "Stay," you murmured against his lips.

A thrill ran through your body once more as he flashed you a wicked grin, laying you down on your bed. "As you wish, my love." 

A/N: Ngl, I didn't think I was gonna be able to finish this before Loki's birthday ended considering how late I started. This story was based off of this request that @ijustloveloki sent over to @sarahscribbles which she passed on to the SAS, so I hope that I did good by your request! 🥺💖

Everything tag list: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @creationsbyme @coldnique

[phenomenal1500]

~Princess Of England~

Masterlist

A/N: This was requested by an anon on tumblr. Don't be too tough on me since I'm still experimenting with writing for Harald and I hope you loved it! ♥️

Summary: Harald meets the hidden princess of England as he visits Wessex, the woman clearly exceeding his expectations in more ways than one~

Timeline: Unimportant.

Pairing: Harald Sigurdsson x Princess!Reader Warning: Mentions of smut, none detailed smut.

For days Harald did not rest, nor did he take even a small break from rowing at sea with his men.

The waves were as big and dangerous as Jormungandr sharp teeth, the sky was as black as the dark and gloomy Helheim, but thankfully Thor's lighting crashed into the deep waters right in time to fight of Jormungandr and to make sure the Vikings could safely seek their way to England.

Not that any of it would matter to Harald, none of it could ever bring the man to a halt. The viking was far too enthusiastic to finally continue his search for a beautiful wife who he could have a son with to even think about stopping his journey.

Harald could still remember the sudden heartwarming feeling he felt in his heart when he arrived in Northern England after just 10 rough days at sea.

The feeling of hope.

Hope he could find himself another wife who he could share a son with.

It was always his dream to find a woman who was sweet, caring, but also bad ass, not to be messed with. Though it became harder and harder to do so. Most of the women in Norway who Harald had grown a liking towards had already been taken or preferred to be by themselves and so Harald's search continued. He wasn't a man to ever force a woman into marriage without her consent and so he decided to look further in other places such as England.

He and his men traveled around England and its beautiful kingdoms for two weeks in a row before finally coming to a stop in Winchester where Harald was offered a place to stay by a nobleman and his only daughter.

He had accepted it not knowing about the woman yet until he saw her come home that one night....

She was wearing a beautiful white gown that hugged her curves beautifully, her long glowing hair was pulled up into a braided bun with a few wavy strings framing her friendly face and her neck was wearing a necklace made out of pearls and silver.

She looked like royalty for sure.

"What is your name, Ketta?" [Female cat, kitten.] He had asked with a pretty thick accent, his body automatically standing up to approach and greet the gorgeous woman.

"Y/N Y/L/N." She looked him up and down for a second and looked at her father with secret admiration. "We're giving shelter to a Viking?"

"A Christian Norseman." He sternly replied to correct her and her lovely gaze returned to Harald who was smiling at her.  He couldn't help it. She looked too cute.

"A Viking." He whispered back as he bowed his head, winking at her secretly so her father wouldn't notice it and it made her respond by giving him the sweetest smile he had ever seen anyone give him.

"What is your name?" She returned the question, but he was already too lost in his wandering thoughts.

Thoughts he would never say out loud.

Thoughts that were too sinful for a Christian to even hear about, but he wished they would come true nonetheless.

~~~

"Harald~." Y/N moaned the man's name softly into his ear, her face nuzzling his neck while riding his cock at the speed she desired.

He could only imagine himself meeting her slow pace with delicious and perfect rolls of his hips deep inside of her. Give her everything she wanted and needed. Her hips already widened and her belly showing a small bump where their son was growing in, caressing it as they made love.

It would be a sight he so badly wished to see.

~~~

"Sir?" She tried to get his attention.

"Harald Sigurdsson~." He answered as he tried to push the thoughts aside not to let it affect him too much and get him hard in front of her. He didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable and scare her away. "King Harald Sigurdsson." He corrected himself. "But keep that a secret for me, yes?"

"It's a pretty name, am I allowed to call you just Harald?" She played along, acting like she hadn't heard anything about the king part.

"Of course, Ketta." He smirked a bit, his mind thinking back to what his name would sound like if she moaned it to him.

"Let me show you around Winchester before dinner, Harald." She offered and held out her hand, feeling a warm comforting feeling in her body as he took and caressed it.

It was as if she already knew him and it made her feel safe.

"King Harald, are you still listening?" She pulled him out of his thoughts from the past few weeks as she gently tugged at his shirt.

"I am, Sæta." [Sweetie, cutie] Harald gave her a friendly bow, still holding onto her hand even after hours of the woman leading him around the quiet and pretty parts of Winchester.

"It gives me a warm feeling when you call me that." She blushed a little and watched her feet as they walked.

"You understand what I'm saying to you?" He gave her hand a soft squeeze and she looked up at him, nodding while staring into those handsome eyes. "How?"

"I'm not fully English." She explained, bringing the viking back to her home so they could sit in the fantasy-like garden her father owned and have some alone time together. The garden was a private place where no one was allowed to come but the owners so she felt like it was a perfect place to continue their conversation.

"You're a Viking?" He watched her closely and it suddenly clicked in his mind.

Her interest in him and his people.... her rare beauty.... the way she spoke and even understood certain Norse words....

She clearly wasn't a Christian free willingly.

"Partly, yes." She smiled proudly before it changed into a sad glare, staring into the horizon that was turning darker as the time passed. "But I was raised here because my mother, the queen, didn't allow me to go home with my father."

"You're a princess? Then why are you living with a nobleman in Wessex?"

"She was ashamed she was with child by an affair with a Viking at the time, so she hid me away and gave me to one of her personal guards to raise. Together he and I moved to Wessex to start a new life away from the throne."

"I'm sorry, princess." He rubbed the palm of her hand with his thumb, sighing.

He really felt strong feelings for her already, and he'd love to show her his life someday, but it was truly all up to her.

"It's okay, it's not as bad as it sounds. My 'father' doesn't forbid me from learning your language or about your gods, he prefers me to stay quiet about it however.... so no one suspects anything and will take me away from treason."

"You'd like to come with me back to Norway?" He closed the distance between them and stroked a piece of her hair out of her face, deciding to go for it and show her how he felt before it was too late.

"You.... You would take me with you?" She blushed and leaned into him, her arms wrapping around his neck slowly.

"If that's what you wish for, Ketta~." He licked his lips and she stared at him with sudden lust until she suddenly heard children laughing and running through the garden which made her back off.

"Children, what did I say about running through the garden like this?" She chuckled as they ran up to her with huge smiles and pouts.

"No running or we'll accidentally hurt ourselves." They replied in unison and she smiled, getting on her knees to be at their height.

"Good, so don't do it again, okay?" She ruffled a young boy's hair and handed them all an apple one by one. She knew it wasn't 'allowed' to take care of the orphans of the city when you had a high title, but she couldn't care less. They were children. They were hungry and they needed help. If she had her own home she would've probably taken them all in, but she sadly couldn't so this was the least thing she could do for them. Besides, there were enough apples growing on their trees anyway. A few missing wouldn't hurt. "Now go before the city guards see you children here. I don't want them hurting you."

"Yes, Y/N. Thank you!" The oldest girl hugged Y/N and brought the children safely back to the streets.

"You'd prefer to come with me as queen of Norway instead~?" He smiled, trying to keep his needs from taking over as he held her body close to his.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Candy Girl 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

Your alarm startles you from a heavy slumber. All those carbs have your stomach roaring. Magni too. You can hear his rumbling snoring coming from his bedroom. You sit up and try to shake off the cobwebs. Ugh, you should know better by now that you should have that brownie cake. 

You roll your shoulders as a crick tweaks in your neck. You groan and look down at yourself. Oh yeah. You stand, sifting through consciousness as it slowly blooms, eyes squinting as your head remains foggy. You pull of the borrowed shirt and search for your own, holding it across your front to hid your chest. 

As you reach for your bra, you hear a yawn that settles to a ‘morning.’ 

You gasp, thinking you were the only one awake, and glance over at Mr. Odinson as he reaches to grip the doorframe, leaning inside it. His own eyes go wide as he sees you and you hug his shirt close across your chest, only pushing your cleavage higher in your effort to hide. 

“I’m sorry,” you spin your back to him and snatch up your bra and shirt, “did my alarm wake you?” 

You hurry across the room, bouncing too much for comfort. You try not to notice that he's still shirtless himself. He's your boyfriend's father! Neither of you should be looking at each other. 

“Uh... no, no, I was making coffee and thought to offer some...” he takes a breath, “it’s a Norwegian blend.” 

“Sorry, I...” you scramble down the hall and quickly hide in the bathroom. 

Oh god. You can’t believe you did that. You should’ve known better than to just strip down out in the front room. You just assumed you would hear a man that big prowling around. Prowling? It is his home. 

You glance at yourself in the mirror. Oh, you really hope he didn’t see all that. Surely the shirt must have shifted in your flight. You cringe and toss the shirt, quickly hooking your bra in place and squeezing back into your uniform. 

You rinse out your mouth and splash water over your face, preparing to face your shame. You fold Mr. Odinson’s shirt and emerge quietly. Maybe he’ll be kind enough to have retreated somewhere else with his coffee. He’s standing by the couch, looking at your phone as it lights up on the arm of the couch. 

“Oh, shoot,” you rush over, “that better not be Karl.” 

“Mom,” Mr. Odinson reads and backs away. 

“Uh, oh, okay,” you frown and hold out his shirt, “here, I should answer.” 

“Thank you,” he accepts the shirt and bows his head, backing away as he shows his palm.  

He turns and marches into the kitchen as you untether the phone from the charging cord and answer it tentatively. As you put the speaker to your ear, your father’s holler sounds in the background of your mother’s clucking. 

“I’ve been calling all night!” She chirps, “where are you?” 

“Mom, I told you...” 

“You told me nothing,” she accuses, as always. “Your father is livid.” 

“What? Why?” 

“Don’t act so innocent,” she snaps then the phone jostles and she squawks again before a snarlish snort sounds into it. 

“Listen here, you little whore,” your father barks, “I won’t have this under my roof. I won’t.” 

“I don’t understand, dad,” you squeak, “I didn’t do anything. I left money on the fridge. Didn’t you get it?” 

“SheVibe,” he sneers and you hear something clatter. No. He opened your package. It said discreet packaging but that doesn’t matter with them. “Fucking slut.” 

“Dad, I--” your voice piques and catches in your throat. 

You were only curious. Magni’s been so eager and you still feel so unready so you thought if you figure yourself out first, it might not be so bad. You sniffle, barely holding back tears as your father descends into a tirade, working in every slur he can think of. 

You listen silently, your eyes fixated on the wall paint. Not like that at home, no holes or scuffs, and the air doesn’t smell of cigarettes and garbage. Your father’s hateful ramble turns to a dull drone in your ears as you just stare, fighting back the hot gloss in your eyes. 

Finally, he finishes. He’s breathless from his anger. You don’t have a chance to apologise again before you hear the phone fly and the call ends. He must have thrown it. You lower your arm and just stand there. 

You move cautiously and look over the tidy room. You put your phone on the small table and go to the couch to tidy up the pillows and blanket. You live in a mess but you don’t want to leave one in someone else’s home. Especially one as nice as this.

It always hurts a little to see how nicely Magni lives. It fills you with doubt. Would he be with you if he saw your home? 

“Everything okay? Bit early to be calling?” Mr. Odinson surprises you as the scent of coffee wafts in with him. 

You flinch, stung by the snap back to reality. You nod and sniff, forcing a smile. You’ve honed the mask since childhood. And when the teachers noticed the way you winced at the grazing of a bruise, you just shrugged it off and kept your smile beaming. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you assure him with a rocky chuckle. You won’t mention your parents are on a bender. “My mom couldn’t find something. Turns out I borrowed it and left it in my locker at work.” 

“Ah,” he nods though there is a hint of cynicism in the single syllable, “I’m sure it’s nothing. So, coffee before you go?” 

“Oh, thanks, Mr. Odinson--” 

“Thor,” he corrects you. 

“Thor,” you echo, “but I should go. I’ve stayed too long as it is. I’m just going to go say goodbye to Magni.” 

“Right, yes, well, you know you’ll never overstay your welcome, not after brownie cake,” he grins. 

Your smile is a bit more genuine as his cheeks dimple back at you. You nod and shrug and grab your purse and reach behind the table awkwardly to unplug your charger. You tuck everything into your bag and head down the hall to Magni’s room. 

You tap on the door but all you hear from within is his constant rumble. You’ll just kiss his forehead and be on your way. You can text him to let him know what’s up later. He probably won’t wake up until noon at earliest. 

You near his bed as he sleeps with no shirt, one long leg hanging over the edge. You ignore the lotion and kleenex close by. It makes you feel bad. You knew what he’d planned but it’s not your fault the night was spoiled. Who are you kidding? You would’ve just chickened out again. 

You sit on the side of the bed and steady yourself on his bicep, leaning over him as you whisper, “hey, Mag, I’m just heading out.” You bend and kiss his forehead and feel him squirm, “love y--” 

“Ugh! You know I hate being woke up!” He throws his arm out and his elbow hits your boob, nothing too painful but it hurts all the same, “Get out!” 

His holler has you on your feet. Your heart is once more pounding as you hear the echo of your father’s voice in his. You blink as your eyes tingle again.  

“Sorry, Mag, I was just saying goodbye,” you squeak. 

He doesn’t respond as he pulls his pillow over his head and rolls back over. You can’t help the spring of tears that bursts forth. You didn’t do anything, you just wanted to give him a kiss. 

You squeal in surprise as someone nudges your shoulder and Thor moves you from behind. Gently as he guides you out of his way before barreling towards the bed. He rips the pillow from Magni’s arm and brings it back down to give him a fluffy blow. 

“Oi, I didn’t raise you to yell at a lady like that so you get up and apologise right now, Magni,” he demands and smacks him again with the pillow. It can hardly be much of a punishment.  

“Dad, I’m sleep--” 

“I do not care. You have all day to lay around. Like every day. So you sit up and say sorry.” 

Magni grumbles and pushes himself onto his back. He sits up and scowls between you and his dad. He shows his teeth and huffs, “I’m sorry, okay? I was sleeping and you scared me.” 

Thor sighs, “really? I’ve a mind to tell her not to come back. She shouldn’t waste her time.” 

“Mr. Odinson, really, I snuck up on him," you say. 

“No more excuses. Not for him,” he growls and turns to you, his snarl softening in an instant, “I’ve made you a cup to go. You’ll take it with you and drive safe, won’t you?” 

“Uh,” you peer between him and his son. “Sure?” 

“A good coffee to get your head straight,” he waves you to the door, “and think about if my son is worth your energy, eh? I often ask myself the same.” 

You nod and keep silent. You just need to get out of there, go somewhere you can be alone. Just a few minutes before you face the inevitable. You go ahead of Thor and he follows, slamming the door at his back in a final reprimand to Magni. 

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hello! I hope my request won’t bother you but can i ask for a funny scenario where Hades, Poseidon, Hercules, and Thor, falling in love with goddess reader who is the child of Nyx and Erebus? Like the reader is the goddess of stars and her hair would kinda flow in the air with stardust and her eyes sparkles like twinkling stars? She’s also very kind and beautiful and that’s why her powerful parents adore her and refuses to let her get married? If you can, can you add Zeus, Aphrodite, and Odin’s reaction to the gods proposing to reader but reader’s parents won’t allow it. Thank you ^~^

-You were the light of your parents, Nyx and Erebus’ eyes, quite literally, being the goddess of stars, you were so bright, so cheerful, and so beautiful.

-Long flowing dark hair that looked to have stars interwoven, sparkling and shimmering in the light, and your eyes twinkled as if you had diamonds in them.

-Your kindness and gentle heart matched your beauty, making you truly a beautiful goddess, inside and out.

-However, with pretty daughters come big responsibilities and your parents had their hands full with the number of suitors coming for your hand since you became of age.

-They had refused all offers, refusing to let you be taken away by any of these other gods whom they deemed not worthy of someone so wonderful as you.

-Still, despite their efforts, a few managed to get by them to you while you were out and about, to approach you with marriage in mind.

-Hades- Knew he couldn’t ask you to marry him outright, as you didn’t know each other, but when he approached you, kneeling down and handing you a red rose, asking for the dance to court you, to take you out on a date. You were surprised that the king of the underworld was vying for your affections but before you could answer you heard, “NO!!!” and instantly you were in your father’s arms, “Nobody’s dating my baby!!” before running off with you. Hades did realize shortly afterward, that you had accepted his rose.

-Poseidon- You were perfect, beautiful, kind, and extremely powerful, no other would do as his queen, and he immediately approached when he saw you were alone for one, “Will you marry me?” you were going to refuse, having heard that numerous times, but your eyes widened, seeing Poseidon there of all gods, stunned that he was asking you. His eyes were soft and kind looking, unlike his normal iciness, and you smiled gently up at him but before you could saw anything your father immediately ran over, throwing you over his shoulder, “Not today!!” Poseidon’s eyelid twitched in annoyance, staring after you.

-Hercules- He approached you with the intentions of asking you to marry him, but as you turned to face him, hearing his footsteps, his voice failed him as his face turned bright red. He held up a simple daisy to you, making you smile softly as his approach had surprised you, but to see the simple gift, it made you so happy. Hercules managed to stutter out a question, asking you on a date, as he wimped out asking you to marry him and you were surprised, as none had asked you on a date before, just jumping straight to marriage. You took his hand which stunned him before you heard your parents, “How dare you hold my baby’s hand?!” your mother hugged you close while your father was yelling at Hercules, who looked a bit defeated by their declination.

-Thor- It was shocking to look up at Thor after he had cleared his throat, wanting to speak with you, but you smiled softly up at him, greeting him warmly. Your kind smile and warm glow made his brain flat line, he couldn’t remember what he was supposed to say as he handed you a red rose. Your eyes lit up with surprise before you took it, “Thank you for this! You’re so sweet!!” He instantly kneeled, spooking you as he took your hand, “Will you marry me, Y/N?” your mother instantly ran over, roundhouse kicking Thor away from you, “No she will not!!” Thor was okay, a bit stunned, as your mother picked you up over her shoulder and dashed off with you.

-Zeus- Approached your parents later that same day after seeing his brother/son try to propose, “May I inquire why you are so against your daughter marrying Hades/Poseidon/Hercules?” your father scowled, “Nobody is good enough for my baby!” Zeus chuckled warmly, stroking his beard, but his aura was threatening, “Are you calling my brother/son not good enough? Who is good enough then?” you ignored the shouting adults as you managed to sneak out, going out to the garden where you saw Hades/Poseidon/Hercules waiting for you with a smile.

-Aphrodite- Your mother was suspicious of her arrival, “Why are you here Aphrodite?” the goddess of love just smiled, “I’ve come to inquire why you won’t let Y/N get married. I saw the proposal of Hades/Poseidon/Hercules and I thought it was cute!” Father crossed his arms, pouting, “Nobody is good enough for her!” Aphrodite, having dealt with situations like this before, smiling, “Then if nobody is good enough, will your daughter be forever alone then? The love of a parent and the love of a partner are very different.” her words made them freeze, realizing this before she tried prying again, seeing you sneaking out behind them, which made her smile, as you went out to meet up with Hades/Poseidon/Hercules.

-Odin- If your parents were intimidated, they tried not to show it, “Why is my son not allowed to marry your daughter?” your father glared harshly, “Nobody is marrying my precious baby!” Odin was annoyed at their words, trying to keep calm, to reason with them, “Then will your daughter be alone for the rest of her life?” Mother flinched lightly, not liking that as your father tried to defend their actions, not wanting you to be with anyone unworthy of you. Odin’s powerful aura shook your whole house, “Are you calling my son unworthy?” the two men glared at each other, the three of them unaware you had snuck out, leaping down from your balcony from your bedroom into Thor’s waiting arms, smiling brightly at him, which made him smile as you snuck off.

[bigfan-fanfic]

Nurture (Male Reader x Thor)

Requested by @jayfeather965 for  Thor meets a shy human who has the power to talk to animals and control plants. He met him on a rescue mission from some hydra facility. Can you do a short fic on them forming a relationship as human begins to trust again and get over his trauma?

It had been decided that protective custody would be the best thing for you, and Thor had offered to bring you to Asgard.

SHIELD obviously hadn't liked that, but it wasn't up to them.

Hydra had determined that harkening back to the Auld Ways was the way forward, and their deep dives into mysticism and the occult had not only revealed the existence of Chaos magic, but also the natural magic of the world.

What better weapon than life itself?

What better equipped assassin than one who could take advantage of the most abundant form of complex life?

What better spy than one who can talk to animals?

However, Asgard is pretty much the perfect place for you to feel comfortable.

Magic is not just accepted and known here, but a way of life. Odin and Frigga are both highly accomplished mages, and their son Loki has learned from them both.

So, really, no one is shocked at your abilities, which is actually really helpful in you coming to accept them yourself. In fact, quite a few share similar abilities.

It's still hard to trust anyone, though.

Thor appoints himself your bodyguard and accompanies you wherever you would like to go.

He treats you cautiously, carefully. He never prods you to start talking, nor directs you to go anywhere unless it's for a reason that he explains, like dinner is starting, or there's a very nice secluded garden that you might like to check out.

Eventually, you start to open up to him. It's easy to talk when there's no pressure to it.

You don't talk about what you've been through. Not yet, although there has been a healer you've been obliged to speak with once a week to process what has happened to you.

With Thor you ask about his memories. His childhood, his thoughts. Simple things like his favorite color. You're still pretty shy, so these questions take great effort to ask, and Thor recognizes that.

He takes his time, pondering each question and giving an honest answer, full of introspection. Sometimes a joke.

Thor slowly becomes easy to talk to. He smiles more frequently, and starts to engage you, and now you don't flinch when he asks you something by surprise.

He too opens up, the more personal questions you ask him getting honest answers, sometimes pulling deep emotion from him.

You talk to him about your treatment, about your past. He holds you while you cry, and you take him in your arms when he does.

And one morning, he takes you to a garden you haven't seen yet, and you lean forward to kiss him.

He freezes. Gently stops you.

"I would be lying if I said I did not care for you. But it would be selfish of me to allow this without inquiring... my friendship, my care for you. It does not come with the expectation of anything else."

He blushes. "Though I would love the opportunity to court you, I will not hold it against you if you decide not to - what I'm trying to say is that... you have my respect, my friendship, and my protection, and you do not need to feel the need to repay me in this way. I just need to make sure you know this."

You nod. "I.. this is because I like you, Thor. I like being around you. I like seeing you every day. I like listening to you. Talking to you. I love you."

He smiles softly, eyes prickling with unshed tears. "This... it overjoys me. I fear that if we embrace, I shall never wish to let you go. I promise you now that I will do whatever I can to help you. Even if that means giving you space. Just command me, and it shall be done, my prince."

You blush. "I... I can't promise that I'll ever be fully okay. That I'll stop being afraid of everything. All I know is that I want to try. And I'll keep trying."

He's so close to you right now.

And somehow, when you move slowly, deliberately, your eyes open, to kiss him - it means all the more than rushing into it blindly and impulsively.

Your eyelids flutter shut as your lips meet his, and he's right.

You may never wish to let go.

[trashywormeateroffics]

The right universe.

Summary: After Y/N's life turns upside down, she's full of grief. Somehow, one day, she manages to travel to the MCU, where she meets her favorite characters, including a certain god who seems willing to establish a friendship with her. Suddenly she's enwrapped in this new world, where everything she loved in a screen is now reality. How will she react? Will she be able to deal with the ghosts that haunt her? Or will she let them consume her? Will she be open to accept the love she is offered? Read to find out!

Read this on AO3!

Category: F/M.

Relationships: Loki/reader.

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Sam Wilson (Marvel), James “Bucky” Barnes, Vision (Marvel), Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Stephen Strange, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel), Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Peter Parker, other minor appearances of other characters but these are the main ones, Pepper Potts, Loki (Marvel).

Additional tags: Loki/reader - Freeform, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Loki & Tony Stark Friendship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Fluffyfest, Slow Burn, Friends to lovers, Mutual Pining, Pining a lot because we love to suffer, Domestic Avengers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark is a parental figure, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Everyone is a good bro, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, y/n, After Infinity War but no one died and the purple bitch was defeated, Missions, Y/N is a universe traveler, Grief, Therapy, Protective Loki (Marvel), Loki in love.

MASTERLIST OF THE STORY

Chapter 57: Endgame.

“Alright, it's time. Bring them back.” Steve told Bruce. It had been two minutes and a half since they killed Loki and Y/N and they were getting impatient.

Bruce nodded and signaled for Natasha to grab the defibrillator to shock Y/N as he prepared himself to shock Loki.

“Alright, on three Nat.” He said and the redhead nodded and looked at her friends limp body, frowning in concentration. “One, two, three!”

Suddenly, a gasping Y/N and Loki jumped quickly into a sitting position.

“Are you guys okay?!” Bruce asked them both, frantic, as he was trying to check both their vitals at the same time.

They both looked at each other and nodded.

“We are okay.” She told him, calming her breathing.

That's when she felt something materializing in her hand. She looked down and found the dagger of death, with some runes carved into it that weren't there before.

“You got it.” Loki told her.

“I did.” She laughed incredulously. Then she remembered how she got it and frowned unnoticed by the team, except for Loki, who noticed it and looked at her with question in his eyes. A second later, she sobered up. “Alright guys, the whole dying thing has me quite tired. Could we go to get some rest?”

“Y-yeah.” Steve answered her. “Of course.”

“Are you sure you're okay?” Natasha asked her again, unsure.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Just really tired.”

“Alright, go rest guys. We will take care of the dagger.”

They both nodded and got up from the beds to head to their room.

“Y/N,” Loki began as soon as she closed the door to their shared quarters.

“Yeah?” She wasn't looking at him and that's what made him sure that something was wrong.

“What was her condition?” He asked knowingly.

Y/N took in a sharp breath.

“Sigyn's soul.” He lifted his chin and nodded.

She went to the end of the bed and sat down, looking at the floor.

“Am I a terrible person Loki?”

“You are not, my love.”

“But I… I agreed because in a way I want her to suffer. How can you justify that?”

“Y/N,” he grabbed her hand, “she killed your family. She then proceeded to lie to you and infiltrate this new family that you found with the intention of killing you and eventually ruling over the universe with a position that is yours to have.” She chuckled breathily.

“When you put it like that…”

“Y/N…”

“It just hurts, you know? When I stop to think about it, it hurts. And I don't want to hurt her, not really, past my rage, I'm just hurt… But I… I need to hurt her to end this.”

“I know, darling. I know.” He said as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. “You are the last person who should go through this.”

“Yet here we are.”

“Here we are.” He agreed.

“I love you Loki. And I'm really scared.”

“I love you too.” He told her and then breathed in deeply. “And everything will be alright. I promise you.”

--------------------------

“Y/N, wake up!”

“Loki? What-” She was cut off by a loud explosion echoing a few floors down.

“She's here.” She widened her eyes.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y where is the team?”

“The garden miss.”

She got up from the bed and began running with him towards the rest of the team.

When they both reached them she saw the scene that was unfolding with a knot in her stomach. Sigyn was there with her whole army of enhanced soldiers, smiling wickedly as she looked at Y/N.

“Steve! The dagger!” She told him.

Captain America looked at her and shook his head.

“What?” She whispered.

“You mean this dagger?” Sigyn's voice answered for him. She looked at her and found the dagger in her hands. “You were really going to kill me, little sister? That is harsh.”

Y/N clenched her teeth and put herself in a defensive stance, prepared for a fight. The goddess laughed loudly.

“You really think you stand a chance without this?”

“I guess we'll have to find out.”

“Very well, whatever you wish.” She signaled for her army to prepare themselves and soon enough, the garden was a battlefield.

“We can't win this fight! We need a plan, Cap.” Clint said in his earpiece.

“I'm thinking!” He responded as he was trying to catch his breath in between throwing his shield around and knocking out a few of them, only for them to get back up again.

“This is like fighting an army of Y/Ns and Wandas, how the hell are we going to do this?” Sam asked, worried.

Meanwhile, Y/N was looking at Sigyn, flying over them and smiling maliciously, knowing that she was winning.

“The mind flayer.” Y/N whispered with wide eyes.

“What?” Clint asked.

“They all have…” She grunted.

“Y/N!” Steve shouted. “Y/N!”

“I'm… fine.” She said as she got up from the floor after getting hit as Loki helped her. “They all have a part of her power. It's like a hive mind. We need to kill the mind that has control.”

“How are we gonna do that when she has the only weapon that can kill her?”

“Make sure you're distracting her army… and let me handle her.”

“Y/N, no!”

“Please Tony, this is my fight.”

“No, it's ours.” He told her. “Go, we'll keep them occupied.”

She smiled softly.

“Darling,” she looked at him expecting resistance but was met with a soft look. “Be careful. I love you.”

“I will. I love you too.”

And just like that, she was flying over every one of them, heading towards her sister.

“I thought you were smarter than this.”

“Yeah well, you overestimated me.” Sigyn smirked. Then she prepared her hands for combat and Y/N did the same.

Blasting her magic towards the goddess, she grunted when she missed and was in return hit with Sigyns magic.

“You stand no chance against me.”

“You keep saying that.” She blasted her magic and this time she didn't miss. Sigyn almost fell to the floor. “Are you trying to convince yourself?”

“Ha!” She laughed. “I know you are trying to distract me. You are not good at this, Y/N.”

“Oh, but I am.” She told her as she disappeared into thin air and appeared behind her, kicking her back and making her fall to the floor this time.

“An illusion? That is cheap, even for you.”

“You've always been a sore loser.” Y/N shook her head and landed on her feet gracefully.

Sigyn got up and faced her, but couldn't stand for much longer as another blast of magic hit her. And another, and another.

When she managed to get up, she strutted towards Y/N with an expression so livid it made her question what person she had let into her life for these past two years.

Sigyn kicked her in the ribs and she fell on her back, wheezing. When she approached her again, Y/N kicked the back of her legs and made her fall on her back.

For a bit, they kept throwing punches and blasting magic at the other.

“Alright, time to distract her.” She said into her earpiece.

“On it.” Sam said and began shooting at her from the sky.

“These mindless mortals!” Sigyn groaned, more annoyed than anything else.

Perfect, Y/N thought.

“Sam, keep her occupied, I need to get the dagger.” She looked at Loki. “Loki, love, could I borrow your favorite dagger?”

“I- yes, darling.” He said, narrowing his eyes at her, confused.

“Thanks.” She said and then she closed her eyes and concentrated on conjuring the dagger she had given Loki a few years back, when they had not confessed their love yet.

Meanwhile, Sigyn was trying to blast Sam with her magic and he was dodging her attempts. Until he wasn't anymore.

“Sam!” Y/N yelled as her friend fell from the sky. “Someone get him!” She cried.

“Another one on the list of dead loved ones?”

Y/N clenched her teeth and looked at her. That's when she heard Wanda speak on the earpiece.

“He's okay, just hurt.” Relieve flooded her in waves and she looked at Sigyn with so much rage she could've killed her right then and there.

“You are not going to win this Sigyn.”

“Oh, but I already have.” She said, gesturing around her, at the avengers fighting and getting more tired by the second.

Y/N looked at them, they wouldn't be able to hold on for much longer. She closed her eyes and concentrated in summoning her magic. Then she opened them and looked at her sister.

“I swear to you, you are going to regret this.” She said strutting towards her with a set jaw.

Y/N hit her again and again, while Sigyn did the same. The ones around them couldn't tell who was winning, which worried them. Sigyn, on the other hand, was sure that she was.

“Keep hitting me all you want, you know that it won't kill me. I on the other hand-” Y/N hit her on her stomach. “I can kill you.”

“I dare you to try.”

“Oh, I will.” Sigyn pulled out the dagger and began throwing jabs at Y/N. She dodged most of them, except for a few scratches here and there.

Y/N kicked the goddess onto the floor and the dagger went flying in the air, falling a few meters away.

Rolling on the ground and grunting, they were both trying to fight off the other and grab the knife.

Suddenly, an explosion rang out behind her, where everyone else was, and she turned briefly, ignoring the screams from her teammates. Then, everything turned into a slow motion movie. Screams could be heard, but only as echoes.

“Look down, sister.” Sigyn's voice sounded distant but she did as told.

“Y/N!” Loki's voice rang out as she found the dagger dunked in her stomach. “Y/N!” He kept screaming, trying to get to her, but the soldiers wouldn't let him.

She turned around slowly and looked at him. At her love, her everything. She looked around, the broken and tired faces of her family, the reason she was alive. Her life flashed before her eyes, every moment that led her to where she was now. She then looked up and begged for a miracle to happen. Turning to him, she whispered:

“I love you, Loki. Forever.” And then she fell to the ground, limp.

“No!” He wailed, his voice shattered.

“I told you she did not stand a chance against me.” Sigyn said, standing up.

“I'm going to kill you.” Natasha said, full of rage and grief.

“Ha!” The goddess laughed. “I don't think any of you understand what just happened. Y/N was your only chance, and she's dead. So now, kneel before your new queen!”

When no one did as told, still standing and prepared for a fight, she groaned and looked up at the sky in annoyance.

“I said, kn-” She choked on her own words as blood began pouring out of her mouth. She looked down to see a red stain on her stomach, growing bigger by the second.

“I told you… I'd win.” Y/N told her between small gasps as Sigyn fell to the floor.

“How did you…” She tried to ask.

“I switched the daggers. You stabbed me with Loki's dagger and I… stabbed you with the dagger of death.” Sigyn began coughing. “I want you to know…” She looked at the goddess, her sister, the one she had spent every day with ever since she appeared on the compound claiming that she was not who she thought she was. In many ways, Sigyn changed her for the better, in other many, many ways, she did not. She looked at her sister and remembered every night spent reading together, singing silly songs, watching scary movies just to see her terrified face when a jumpscare happened. She looked at her sister and couldnt find it in herself to care. So her next words, she said them very slowly. “I want you to know… that this is for my family.” And she stabbed her again, in her heart.

“I-Im sorry.” Sigyn said slowly, in a hushed whisper, as she was dying.

“I don't forgive you.”

And after coughing a few times, her body laid limp on the grass. When it did, the soldiers began slowly falling too. Then, Y/N's vision began to blur, the adrenaline wearing out and her wound beginning to cause its effects.

Before she fell to the ground, someone caught her.

[cake-writes]

A Dutiful Disaster (Part Seven)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Story Tags/Warnings: Arranged Marriage, Enemies to Lovers, Royalty, Pre-Thor (2011), Smut, Angst, Drama, Slow Burn, Odin’s A+ Parenting, Cis Female Reader (she/her), No Y/N Usage, Second Person POV, POC-inclusive descriptors, Toxic Relationship (lil bit of abuse from both parties - mostly screaming matches with the occasional physical thing but he never like slaps her or anything), Smut, Slut-Shaming, Mommy Issues, Reader has anxiety, 18+

Chapter Warnings: anxiety, reader is super bitchy in this chapter, and so is her letter, oh my gosh you guys they actually talk shit out like MATURE ADULTS

Word Count: 3.8k

Snippet: “I do not wish to be kissed. It’s too great an intimacy for our,” you pause to consider the word, tapping your finger to your chin, “unique situation, wouldn’t you say? We are the furthest thing from lovers.”

“Oh?” Loki sounds amused by your answer – and then he drops his feet back to the floor with purpose, taking advantage of your startled jump to pull you further into his lap where you can feel the hardening length of him against your clothed core. “If not lovers, then what are we?”

“Married,” you gasp, arms clutching around his neck for fear of being dropped – or so you tell yourself.

Master List / Spotify Playlist / Part Six

A/N: And we’re back! This chapter finally ties us in to the prequel one-shot, as well as the argument between Loki and his father in part two. You may need to read them again for a refresher because it’s been a fair few months (in real life) since those were posted. Enjoy :)

You study your husband from above the gold rim of your teacup. It’s suspicious, the certain ease to his demeanour as he discusses today’s breakfast offerings with his servant.

Loki is manipulating you. He must be. It's the only conclusion you can come to.

You haven’t forgotten the nasty things he said about you to his father the day after your wedding. Loki made it crystal clear that he can't stand you, that he finds this sham of a marriage as torturous as you do, to the point that he'd even referred to it as a life sentence – much like your own thoughts on the matter. Yet, it bothers you in a way you can’t quite explain.

What’s worse is that the Allfather thinks you disloyal to the Crown, and you still haven’t been able to figure out why. You’ve been nothing but loyal, the events of last night notwithstanding. It makes you feel uneasy, knowing that the King has tasked Loki with ensuring your loyalty to Asgard, like he actually expects you could ever be a traitor—a proper one, that is.

Even so, you find yourself begrudgingly admiring the way your husband’s dark, glossy hair perfectly accentuates his sharp cheekbones – during which he turns his attention to you. 

“Is that acceptable?” Loki questions, just as you take another sip of chrysanthemum tea—your favourite, and all you can think is that it can't be just a coincidence.

You hate how infuriatingly attractive he is. Even now. Especially now, with his pretty green eyes so focused on you, like he actually cares what you have to say. 

“That would be lovely,” you answer amicably as you set down your teacup, even though you have no idea what you’ve just agreed to. Something about smoked salmon and capers.

Loki seems to accept your answer, and when he engages once more with his servant, you lose yourself in your thoughts. Two ragged, albeit manicured fingernails tap an anxious rhythm against the side of the porcelain cup in its saucer, each fingertip sounding its own melody.

Tink, tink. Tink, tink.

It worries you how easily Loki plays the part the perfect husband. Sitting here in his chambers is unnerving; you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop, but he seems perfectly content, like he isn’t at all bothered by the contents of your letter. Nor does he seem to hold any opinion of the events that transpired last night. 

For now.

Tink, tink. Tink, tink.

The daylight streaming in through the open windows offers a glimpse of the fine lines near his eyes and the dark circles just beneath. While he always appears as though he’s never been able to get enough sleep, courtesy of his fair skin, you’re starting to think that Loki might have slept about as well as you did last night—in other words, scarcely at all.

Tink, tink. Tink, tink.

You conceal a yawn with your free hand as the servant bows and makes his way to the exit, and then you’re alone with your husband again. That knowledge should set you on edge, but you’re more focused on the rich accoutrements of his sitting room. It’s the first time you’ve been here since that awful argument following the attack; no sign of shattered glass in sight, but then, it has been a week since then.

Tink, tink. Tink, tink.

A vase full of fresh flowers sits upon the entry table. You’d bruised your hip against it that self-same night. How suspicious that the blooms are the colour of plum wine, a deep reddish-purple that makes your heart sing: your colour.

Tink, tink—

You stop tapping the instant you notice him watching you, and snatch up your teacup as if you meant to do so all along. Then you take a larger sip than you intend. The hot tea scalds your tongue, and his lips twitch in silent laughter as you try and fail to pretend it doesn’t.

“What?” you snap irritably.

“How did you sleep?”

“Why act as though you care?”

Visibly amused by your bristly demeanour, Loki retrieves his own tea, his slim fingers pinching the gilded handle with more finesse than you could ever hope to achieve. “I cannot help but wonder, petal, if you haven’t slept a wink. Were you worrying about how this conversation would go?”

You set your teacup down in its saucer with force, the loud clink of fine china resounding through the room. “Considering the events that transpired during our previous one, I’d be a fool not to worry. I expect that you will have me imprisoned the very moment you manage to lull me into a false sense of security.”

He doesn’t bat an eyelash at your vitriol, instead opting to take a sip of his tea. You can scarcely tell what kind of tea it is anymore, what with how he's drowned it in cream and sugar. Some things never change. It’s comforting, in a way.

Your husband savours the too-sweet taste for a moment before he speaks. “I will not have you imprisoned. You have my word.”

You scoff. “I threatened you.”

“Indeed.”

“With a knife.”

“A dagger, actually,” Loki corrects, and when you cut him a withering look, he gives you a shit-eating grin. You hate how stupidly reassuring it is that he’s just as insufferable as ever. Then his expression shifts to something a little more serious, his eyes softening at the corners. “You felt that I posed a threat to your safety, and you acted in self-defence. A sleepless night is punishment enough.”

You don’t buy it. “And my letter?”

“I suspect that you would never have sent it, had your fear not driven you to do so. No one in their right mind would call me—what was it, an animal?—among so many other insults that I cannot even begin to fathom them all, in a letter signed with one’s personal seal. That alone could have landed you in the dungeons, yet you did so with little regard for the consequences.” A puff of laughter escapes him. “You have always had an impulsive streak, darling, but never to that extent.”

He sees right through you. You despise it. “Yes, well—”

“If you truly think me an animal, then I can only imagine that you would indeed feel safer in another part of the palace.” He mentions the request you’d made in your letter so nonchalantly, like the two of you are merely discussing the weather. “Where did you have in mind?”

That does it.

“How—How can you be so calm about all of this?” you sputter. “Forgive me, husband, but I do not trust how willingly you would turn a blind eye to my transgressions!”

The precise manner in how Loki returns his teacup to its saucer betrays him. “Don’t you?”

You glare at him. Something is simmering beneath the surface of his suspiciously mellow exterior, but you can’t quite discern what it is. Not yet.

“If you think that I am calm, darling, then you couldn’t be more wrong—unless, of course, you honestly believe that I have any penchant for forgiveness.” His tone may be cordial, but every single one of his movements is calculated to the nth degree. The tactician.

No, he isn’t calm at all. He’s plotting. You should have known.

“Or is there another reason that you would arm me with more than enough ammunition to have you imprisoned?”

With that single question, the conversation becomes an interrogation. Your palms turn cold and clammy at the knowledge that he very well still could, and when you start to fidget with the white napkin in your lap, the cloth sticks unpleasantly to your skin.

“Is that what you want me to do? Arrest you for a rash, impulsive decision? A crime of passion?”

You can feel your blood pressure rise under his rapid fire, your anxiety and sleep deprivation giving way to anger. “No,” you bite out. 

While part of you feels that a life in the dungeons would be infinitely better than one bound to him, your more reckless side likes to push boundaries – to your own detriment. And Loki knows it as well as you do. His mouth sets in a firm line, his expression unreadable.

“Then you do trust me,” he says, tone neutral. “And that, dear girl, is the worst transgression of all.”

You stare at him, disbelieving, before you let out a loud peal of laughter – like he’s just told the funniest joke you’ve ever heard. It just might be. “I trust you, do I? No, husband,” you spit the word like it’s a curse. “I loathe you. If you have mistaken that for trust, then I pity you.”

If your venomous tirade affects him at all, Loki does well to hide it. A prolonged silence falls over the room as he rests his elbows on the table and laces his fingers before him, no less patient with you than he has been for the rest of the morning. He studies you – studies your reaction – studies every single flaw you try so hard to hide, and he says nothing.

You look away first. You always do, when your temper gets the better of you.

Only then does he finally grace you with a response. “I am amenable to your request. Choose whichever chambers you’d like.”

Your eyes snap back to him in shock, only to watch as he procures a small envelope from beneath his place setting. Your letter.

Casually, he extends it out to you between two slim fingers. “I wish to return this to you as well. I refuse to hold something so incriminating over your head. It is neither fair to you, nor to our marriage.”

You stare at it, then at him, stunned into silence by his magnanimity. The Loki you know would never do such a thing. He’d hold onto it for leverage.

Your husband rolls his eyes, almost like he knows what you’re thinking. “If you do not take it, then I will destroy it in a similar manner to the gift you so graciously decided to bestow upon me, after…” he shifts uncomfortably in his chair, then, “after what I did to you that morning.”

He means his own letter – the one you’d returned to him, torn to shreds after he’d all but thrown you into the entry table. The very same entry table upon which those lovely flowers now rest.

You sit up straighter at the memory. It sets you on edge, and though you’re tempted to cower, instead you overcompensate. “Oh? Go on, then.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“It is incredibly cathartic, you know,” you drawl, delicately picking up a biscuit between your thumb and forefinger to examine its intricate design. The sugar granules glimmer in the light. “To destroy one’s heartfelt letter in a fit of anger. Though I must confess,” you hold your head high, smug as can be, “I did not read what you’d written before doing so.”

That doesn’t seem to faze him either. “You say that as if you expect it to surprise me.”

You scrunch your nose at him in annoyance. “Well? Go on. Or will you not follow through on your promises?”

His promise not to harm you. His promise not to touch you. His promise not to lock you away.

Maintaining eye contact, you use your teeth to break off a piece of the biscuit with a crunch.

Your challenge isn't lost on him. “Very well,” Loki sighs. He swiftly opens the letter to pull out the fine stationery upon which you’d so hastily scrawled all manner of insults, after which he makes a point to show it to you, front and back, to prove its authenticity. “I’ll not have you thinking I’ve stowed it away to use against you later on.”

You bat your eyelashes at him. “I see you’ve turned over a new leaf.”

“Charming,” Loki comments dryly, but you don’t miss the humour in his tone – nor in his eyes as he skims them down the page. “I must say, darling, you have quite the talent for castigation. It would be a waste not to read such a heartfelt letter aloud.” His eyes flick back up to yours, then, and you know for a fact that he’s taunting you. “For posterity. You understand.”

Posterity. There is no doubt in your mind that he knows you only wrote it yesterday. You’d even sealed the envelope with the ink still wet, as evidenced by the dark smudges littering the page.

“Stars above,” you grouse. “Get on with it, then, seeing as you are positively chomping at the bit to humiliate me.”

“Humiliate you? No.” Loki holds your gaze, resolute, and for once, you’re inclined to believe him. “I want you to acknowledge exactly what you’ve said of me before we put all of this to rest.”

Of course he does. Gracelessly, you wave a hand at him as if to say go ahead.

Loki clears his throat before he begins to read your letter verbatim, surprisingly in a manner that befits its serious nature. His voice holds not a single shred of mockery.

“To my dear, despicable husband,” he arches an eyebrow at you, “I fear I cannot stand this any longer. My chambers are in such close proximity to yours that I’d sooner return home than sleep here for another night, knowing that a wolf in sheep’s clothing rests his weary head so near to mine.”

Whether he intends it to be or not, it is humiliating to hear what you’ve written become spoken word. All too soon, you feel your face start to flush.

“I find myself ill with the knowledge that the Einherjar would allow such a predator to prowl these halls while I remain entirely defenceless. Nay, it is hardly reassuring to know that not a single soul shall protect me from the animal who would bring me harm, either in his own chambers or in our marital bed.”

When Loki pauses, you immediately recognise the real reason behind this exercise. Though you’d written the letter to be purposefully harsh in order to invoke a reaction, in the light of day, your spiteful words seem to imply something else.

You haven’t just told him of your fears in a general sense, using your marital bed as an example. You’ve alluded to a significantly more heinous act.

“You will not see me become your prey, thrilling though the chase may be to a brutish man with little regard for others. I refuse to become the spoils of a war you’ve so savagely waged upon me and my body for no other reason than your own entertainment.”

No wonder he’d been so angry with you last night. The implication that he would assault you in such a way is bad enough on its own, but there is another layer.

For centuries, the two of you have harboured a forever unspoken secret. Neither of you have acknowledged it outright, but it’s there. You’ve seen each other at the den – the covert, invitation-only club which caters to the niche sexual preferences that both you and Loki seem to share. Namely those that are, and have always been, less than socially acceptable.

“One cannot expect an animal to behave in any way but his basest nature. As a scholar of grey morals, you have always preferred books to people, but a snake, however erudite, is still a snake.”

There, on multiple occasions, your rooms have been next door to each other—through no fault of your own, though you suspect Loki has done it intentionally. After all, what he’s seen of you through the window in between are things that you’d never tell another soul, and you’re sure he relishes in holding that over your head, if not your letter.

But then, you’ve also seen similar of him. His proclivity for consensual non-consent is just one of the great many things you’ve witnessed, time and time again, and you realise, now, that Loki thinks you’ve used that forbidden knowledge against him. He thinks you’ve used it to hurt him in a way that most others could never.

“No ruffian should ever be permitted to walk freely as you do. Until such a time that you do not, for my continued health and wellbeing I have made arrangements to return to my family’s manor.”

Of course he’s bothered by what you’ve implied – albeit unintentionally. And he has every right to be.

“I will only be persuaded to stay if you grant me a new set of chambers as far from yours as possible, for I have no desire to encounter any manner of beast in the wild.” Loki snorts derisively and drops the letter down onto the table between the two of you. “Disrespectfully yours, your dutiful wife.”

There is no laughter to be elicited, now, nor anger, but something else entirely. Loki hides it well, but the implication has clearly gotten under his skin. You can see it in his eyes, and in his posture, how guarded he is as he looks to you for a response.

Thoroughly humbled, you swallow the lump in your throat and focus upon your lap. “I… I did not mean what you’ve understood my words to mean.” 

When you glance back up at him, you immediately have to look away again in shame when you find him watching you, jaw set, waiting for a proper apology. 

“Of course, that does not matter when they have made such an impact,” you rush to add. “I sincerely apologise for my thoughtlessness. I did not mean to imply that you would do something terrible.”

Silence stretches uncomfortably between the two of you as you begin to pick at the skin around your nails. At the very least, you should have reread your own letter before you sent it. Perhaps then you wouldn’t feel so guilty.

After a prolonged few moments, he asks quietly, “What else could you have possibly meant?”

“I meant to paint a picture of my fears.” You accidentally draw blood from a hangnail, and it stings. “My intent in mentioning our marital bed was to offer an example of one such fear—not that sort of fear, mind, but I fully understand how it could have sounded like an accusation.”

“I see.”

Finally, you muster the courage to look at him again, impassioned because you would never, ever use what you know against him. “You’ve been nothing but a gentleman in that regard, Loki. You respected my wishes on our wedding night. You have asked for my consent during every one of our trysts. Please know that I would never accuse you of anything untoward.”

His eyes search yours for a long time, trying to discern the lie, but there isn’t one. Then he exhales a long, weary sigh and leans back in his chair, the tension visibly lifting from his shoulders. “Norns,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face. “Yes, I suppose not even you would stoop so low.”

A jab.

You respond with the opposite: a jest. “Ah, but how could you know for certain? What with our—” you clear your throat, nearing ever closer to openly acknowledging the forbidden secret that you both share, “our history?”

It’s the closest either of you have come to doing so. You and Loki have been playing this game for centuries, trying to see who will cave first, but you continue to tiptoe around it.

Just as you predicted, the layered meaning instantly captures his attention. “Our history?” he repeats, as if he doesn't quite believe he's heard you properly, before his lips curl up into that same insufferable grin you so adore. “Oh, do go on, sweet. I’m all ears. What about our history?”

You try to give him a deadpan look, but find it impossible to keep the smile off of your face. “Only that we have never enjoyed each other’s company, you and I. You know that as well as I do.”

It isn't at all the history you’d originally mentioned, and you’re well-aware he recognises that when his voice takes on a note of smooth, persuasive silk. “In what way do you intend for me to take that, darling? Because I suspect that there are many things for a husband and wife to... enjoy.”

His insinuation is absolutely not what you meant, and he knows it, but your heartbeat quickens all the same.

Just in the knick of time, two rapid knocks resound on the door. 

“Enter,” Loki calls out, never taking his eyes off of you. Something about the heat within them, however slight, makes you think he isn’t done with you just yet.

You find yourself silently thanking whoever has chosen to interrupt.

The door opens, and another servant pushes a small gold cart into the room, two shelves stacked high with breakfast delights. The spread is much more elaborate than your typical morning meal, and your mouth waters.

“Now, I believe you said I would find this cathartic?”

You glance back over at your husband, only to watch him deftly pluck your letter up from the table. Before you can get a word in edgewise, however, you watch as your stationery sets aflame in the palm of his hand.

It’s an impossible sort of fire, for it doesn't seem to burn his skin. 

Magic.

You’ve always loved his magic, even now, loathe as you’d ever be to admit that you find Loki’s mastery of it in any way appealing. He wields his seidr like one might a paintbrush, creating masterful works of art from intricate spells and enchantments.

As the flames burn away your spiteful letter, your eyes follow the curling wisps of smoke as it drifts up, up, up towards the intricately-painted ceiling. Instead of the colourful collection of wildflowers you expect to see upon it, however, you find a field of white daffodils in their place.

A symbol of forgiveness.

In that moment, as you stare at the illusion he’s cast, you realise that your husband will forever be an enigma to you. Perhaps he’s changed in the great many years you've known him, or maybe you've never really known him at all.

Then Loki lazily waves his hand, and the illusion dissipates—as do the singed remains of your letter.

He’s manipulating you. He must be. It’s the only conclusion you can come to, but when you meet his eyes once more – when you see the mischief shining within them, and the softness hidden just beneath – you desperately wish that he wasn’t.

Part Eight

And because I’m a clown, here’s my ko-fi / patreon if you’ve got a buck or two to spare so I can buy a new laptop! Otherwise reblogs and keysmashing in my ask box are more than welcome 🤡🤡🤡 Thanks so much for reading!!!

[lillywillow]

Blessed by a Goddess

Summary: You had never felt secure about your body but when you meet a renowned artist, you suddenly start to feel more beautiful than ever

 Word Count: 1633

 Pairings: Artist!Loki x Chubby!Female Reader

 Warnings: Body insecurities, mild nudity

 Being a plus-sized woman in the modern world could be cruel. Everyone seemed to have certain ideas on how you should look or dress or make ‘helpful’ comments. That’s why you took solace in the art world. Looking at all those fuller figured women from days gone by… it sometimes made you feel like you were born into the wrong era. You would see people admire the works of Ruben but when they turn to look at you, it was completely different. Oh, how you wished you could be one of those paintings.

…

 Recently, you had heard about an art exhibit that was being put on at a nearby gallery. You had heard many wonderful things about the artist so you decided to go. As you walked around the gallery, you were in awe of the many wonderful things on display. Most of the works were Nordic inspired. There were intricately braided chains to make exquisite necklaces. Clay models of long boats with finely crafted designs on the sails. Tapestries depicting various Viking tales. The thing that struck you most about them the most is that every woman in the works, whether they be painted or clay, were all plump. You were admiring one of the pieces when you heard a voice behind you speak.

 “Breathtaking…”

 You turned to see the artist himself smiling at you. Loki was every bit as handsome as he was in his pictures. He circled you, looking at you with the same level of reverence you were looking at the artwork with.

 “Yes, I do believe I have found my next masterpiece,” he softly smiled with a thoughtful tone.

 “E-excuse me?” you stammered.

 “Forgive my musings, my dear. It isn’t very often I see such beauty in real life…”

 “You must say that to all the girls,” you muttered, feeling your face heat up.

 “No, not all of them. I seldom find true beauty such as yours… I would love to use your likeness in one of my next pieces, if I may. There is no pressure if you decline,” he explained, handing you a business card.

 You took it and barely had a chance to introduce yourself when Loki was called away by an art blogger who wanted to speak to him about his current exhibition. He kissed your hand and bowed to you before walking away. As you looked at the card in your hands, you wondered if you should go through with being a model for him. It was obvious from both his works and the way he looked at you he had a certain healthy respect for plus sized women… and the people here saw the beauty of his pieces… but could your really do it? Could you put your likeness out there for the world to see and to be admired like they were? You decided, you would have to get to know Loki a little more before you committed to anything.

…

 A few days after the exhibition, you decided to stop by Loki’s studio. You felt butterflies in the pit of your stomach as you waited for the door to open. Once again you felt nervous as a handsome, golden-haired man answered.

 “He-hello, I’m Y/N. I met Loki a few days ago at his show,” you explained, wringing your hands.

 The man smiled warmly and welcomed you in.

 “You must be the goddess my brother met!” he exclaimed.

 “G-goddess? I’m sure he must say that to a lot of women…”

 “Not at all! My brother respects all women of course but when it comes to putting them in his art… he can be very selective… Forgive me, I have yet to introduce myself. I’m Loki’s older brother, Thor.”

 Thor led you inside to where Loki was sitting at his desk working on his sketches. When Thor announced your arrival, he looked up and smiled at you.

 “Welcome,” he beamed. “I’m so glad you decided to come. Please, take a seat.”

 Loki offered you a comfortable looking chair to sit in.

 “Can I offer you some tea?”

 You accepted and Loki busied himself making a pot for the pair of you.

 “Thank you for inviting me,” you stated, taking the cup he handed you.

 “My pleasure,” he smiled, sitting in the seat near you.

 “I… I’m not quite sure if I feel ready to pose for a man I just met,” you stated.

 “I completely understand. I’m still happy to see you again,” he softly smiled.

 Loki seemed so kind and genuine.

 “I… I wanted to ask you… What made you decide on me?” you voiced after a while.

 “Growing up in Asgard, there was a goddess by the name of Freya. I always thought she was so beautiful with her soft curves… to be perfectly honest, I felt a little intimidated by her and I could never work up the courage to ask her to dance…”

 “When I first came to Midgard, I would see women with similar figures to her and I had often wondered if Freya had blessed them with her beauty… I could see it everywhere. In the Italian Renaissance paintings, in that actress Marilyn Munroe… I find it sad that in modern times, that beauty was lost and rejected so I try to keep it alive in my art…”

 You couldn’t help but smile as you listened to Loki speak. His words made your heart beat faster like no man has ever done before.

 “Wow, Loki… you certainly have an amazing view of women…” he breathed.

 “I meant every word I said,” he softly smiled. “I also meant what I said before; I truly do believe you would make a stunning work of art but if you do not feel comfortable, there is no pressure to pose.”

 “Thank you for being so understanding… I think… I think I would like to but… I’m just not ready yet. I would like to get to know you a little more first.”

 Loki nodded and agreed this would be the best idea. He was pleased you were considering posing for him but also wanted to respect your boundaries.

…

 Over the next few weeks, you spent a lot of time with Loki, spending hours talking about various subjects. Through so much conversation, it began to feel like you had known him your entire life. When you came to the decision to pose for Loki’s art, he went out of his way to make you feel comfortable. He gave you a robe to wear in between sketching, kept his studio warm enough so you wouldn’t be chilled and gave strict instructions that anyone who wished to speak with him while he was working had to knock and wait until he answered the door.

 Loki spent hours sketching you from every angle. Not once did you feel uneasy under his intense gaze; in fact, it was quite the opposite. He made you feel more beautiful than any of your past boyfriends ever made you feel. Once Loki had finished creating all the sketches he needed, he promised to contact you for the grand unveiling of his next masterpiece.

…

 A few weeks had passed since Loki had sent you away to work on his sculpture. You understood he was busy working so you didn’t take it to heart when you didn’t hear from him in a while but he did send Thor to keep you updated on how he was going.

 One day, you received a personal invitation from Loki to his next exhibition. You were both nervous and excited to see what he had done with all the sketches he had created.

 On the day of the unveiling, you were more nervous than anyone. In just a few moments, the whole gallery would see what you try to hide from the world. Every stretch mark, every dimple, every roll and curve everything that made you feel insecure would be on full display. Behind you, you could hear some nasty whispered comments about you but that all went away when Loki found you.

 “There you are, darling,” he smiled, taking your hand to kiss. “Come along. I want you to be by my side as I show the world how beautiful you are.”

 You had to admit, seeing the looks of shock and jealousy on the faces of the ones making the horrid comments made you feel great. Loki walked you to the front of the room in front of the covered sculpture.

 “Everyone… there is someone very special I would like you to meet,” Loki announced, calling the people to attention.

 “This is Y/N. My muse, my goddess and the inspiration behind my latest work…”

 Without further notice, Loki pulled the sheet off the sculpture. As you gazed upon the piece for the first time, you couldn’t help but tear up a little in joy. The figure was as gorgeous as the works of yore. You felt as beautiful as Venus herself. People started talking animatedly about the sculpture and cameras started flashing.

 “Of course, this is incomparable to the real thing,” Loki smiled at you.

 Before you could stop yourself, you kissed him. Loki was a little caught off guard but slowly kissed back, holding you close once the shock wore off.

 “So… will you continue to be my muse,” he breathed once he pulled away.

 “Of course, I will,” you smiled.

 Loki was a truly masterful artist. He could make you feel beautiful in a room full of people. With him, all those insecurities melted away. You were his goddess.