#mightiest also in voice obviously | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

makoodles · 1 year ago

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ミ the mightiest

part 1 | part 2

🍓 pairing: neteyam x human fem reader 🍓tags: nsfw, aged up neteyam (obviously), jealousy, alien cultural misunderstandings, oral sex (f receiving) vaginal sex, size kink, voyeurism, brief na'vi oc x reader, mentions of reader sleeping with other na'vi men

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

notes: okay i had to split this into two parts because it surpassed the tumblr word limit 🙃 here’s part 1, and I’ll post part 2 in a day or two!

adult neteyam art created by the incredibly talented @cinetrix, whose work motivated me to write for adult neteyam in the first place!!

The tsahìk’s hut is cool and dark, offering a much needed reprieve from the hot balmy air of the day outside. It’s been a quiet day for you, though you can’t complain about that; it’s a pleasant change of pace from the usual hectic rush of people that usually pass through.

It’s one of the rare days that Mo’at has left you to tend to the duties of the healing hut alone; it had taken years to reach this level of trust with her, and you find yourself almost deliriously proud to be able to help out. Na’vi medicinal practices are very different to human ones, but your training in first-aid has given you enough knowledge and experience to hold your own when it comes to helping out with the smaller day-to-day ailments that tend to pass through the healing hut.

Besides, you’re always happy to give Mo’at a break. She had claimed that she needed time to commune with Eywa, though secretly you suspect that she just likes to take some time to herself in her old age. But that’s fine – you’ve always found helping out in the healing hut soothing, and your heart swells at the fact that Mo’at trusts you enough to leave you in charge, even if it’s only for a few hours.

It also helps when your patient is a big, hunky alien warrior with more muscles than brains, who sits in front of you as you smear a herbal paste over the scratches he had gotten in training earlier that day.

Txeyto is not an easy patient; he flinches when you prod his wounds, whines when you clean them, and complains as you smear the paste on his scrapes. It’s a little irritating, but the sight of his big broad shoulders and chiselled abdomen is enough to soothe the worst of your aggravation.

“Are you nearly finished?” Txeyto complains, flinching away from your fingers once more.

You bite your tongue and force a smile. Patience has never been your strong suit, and Txeyto is certainly testing the short reserves you have left. But he’s very handsome, and very skilled at archery, and you feel that his physical attractiveness outweighs the minor personality flaws.

“Yes, just another few moments.” You murmur, keeping your voice low and soothing as though speaking to a child.

Txeyto settles a little when you use the baby voice on him, and you struggle to keep your face blank at the ridiculousness of it all. Men are such children, even the big strong Na’vi warriors that should be above such behaviour. He’s lucky he’s handsome.

“How did you get these injuries, hm?” You ask, using a light touch to dab some of Mo’at’s specially formulated healing paste onto his scrapes. You keep your fingers as gentle as possible, but Txetyo still winces dramatically.

He perks up at your question, his tails swaying low over the floor where you’re both sat cross-legged. “I have been training very hard. I am one of the best archers in the village now.”

“No doubt.” You murmur distractedly as you work.

“But it is important for a tsamsiyu to be competent in many forms of combat, so I must practice my hand-to-hand combat also,” Txetyo continues, apparently forgetting to wince now that he’s talking. “Neteyam has been helping me train.”

Ah. You can’t help the face you make at that, and you’re thankful that Txeyto’s back is facing you so that he can’t see your expression. You also can’t help the way you cast a quick glance towards the entrance to the hut, as though worried that simply speaking the name aloud will summon Toruk Makto’s eldest son.

“Is that right?” You say, keeping your tone carefully neutral. “So, he’s the one that got you all scraped up like this?”

Txetyo’s shoulders flex under your hands, and you realise without looking at his face that you’ve stung his pride.

“I scraped him up also.” He grumbles, shifting to try and peer over his shoulder. “They are wounds to be proud of, as I got them in combat.”

You don’t think that a couple of minor scratches from wrestling around in the mud with one of the village’s biggest dickheads count as combat wounds, but you don’t argue. You just hum non-committedly, paying more attention to his bruises than is entirely necessary.

“You should be careful,” You say instead, running your fingers carefully over one of the bruises discolouring the pretty blue skin of his defined bicep. “It’s a shame to see these lovely muscles all bruised up.”

There’s a long moment’s pause. It seems as though the cogs in Txetyo’s head are working slowly, because he seems to be struggling to understand your flirty tone of voice. But when it finally seems to click, he turns his head to peer at you with wide, curious eyes.

“Ah,” He says, his shoulders squaring as he seems to preen. “You like them?”

God, he really is a little dumb. But that’s okay. You don’t necessarily need a man with brains.

“Mhmm,” You hum, allowing your hand to rest on the bulge of his bicep. “I like strong men.”

That’s true, if a little bit of an oversimplification. You’ve lived as a human on Pandora your whole life, but it was only in recent years since you’ve reached adulthood that you’ve started really paying attention to the people around you. And good lord, you had some impressive specimens to look at.

You find yourself drawn to their athletic and toned bodies, their radiant blue skin, their cat-like grace and agility. Maybe it’s because you had grown up on Pandora with no humans your age other than Spider, but you find yourself especially drawn to your size. The sheer size of their hands alone are enough to fluster you, especially when your brain is flooded with images of those big hands in other contexts.

And luckily for you, there’s no shortage of Na’vi that are interested in experimenting with humans, too.

Txetyo visibly perks up, his ears twitching forward as he finally seems to notice the way your much smaller hands are lingering on his body as you patch him up.

“I am very strong.” He says, tail thumping against the ground.

You fight the urge to sigh. He’ll never make a great conversationalist, but that’s alright. He’s big and strong and handsome, and you just want to relieve some tension.

“I know.” You murmur, your lips quirking a little as you shuffle around so that you’re kneeling in front of him, your knees pressed close to his thighs. “But I could still kiss your scratches better, if you’d like.”

Kissing wounds better is definitely a human colloquialism that Txetyo doesn’t understand, judging by the furrow of his brow, but he doesn’t seem to care. He reaches out and wraps a big hand around your waist, and you feel a pulse of arousal low in your belly in response.

“You like my muscles so much that treating my wounds has aroused you?” He asks, the smugness in his voice impossible to miss.

His pompousness is a little irritating, but you can ignore that because his hands are big and warm and it’s exciting to feel his palm start to push its way under your cotton tank top. The few Na’vi men you’ve been with before had been absolutely fascinated with the soft squishiness of your human breasts, so your breath hitches in anticipation as his hand reaches up to grope at your tits over your bra.

Okay, you can probably admit that you’re a little pent up. It’s probably a terrible idea to allow Txetyo to feel you up like this in the middle of the healing hut, but you’re horny.

If you’re telling the truth, you’ve been hoping for a chance like this all week – but there’s one thing, one irritation, that has been preventing you by interrupting every damn chance you’ve gotten alone with any man.

In fact, you’ve been interrupted so often and so many times that you’re almost expecting it, even as Txetyo’s big hands squeeze at your tits. He’s a little rough with it, but he’s so much bigger than you that you suppose that’s unavoidable – besides, his strength only adds to the thrill.

Then, just like clockwork, as though there’s some kind of sensor that goes off whenever you’re about to get some, there’s a rustling sound by the entrance of the hut before the little woven drape covering the doorway is pulled back.

And then, who else would be standing there, but Neteyam. One of the few people on the whole planet that can actually ruin your whole day just by showing his stupid face.

His eyes find you, but his expression doesn’t change as he glances over your flustered expression and the hand that Txetyo still has shoved up your top. He tilts his head, and it feels as though he’s examining every damn detail all at once; the ointment smeared all over Txetyo’s bruises from training, the way you’ve shuffled so close to Txetyo that you’re practically straddling his thigh, your unsteady breathing behind your mask.

“Ah. Am I interrupting?” He asks with a hint of wry humour to his voice, as though he hasn’t interrupted every attempt at getting laid you’ve made this month.

It has to be on purpose. That, or he has some sort of nearly supernatural sense for when you’re horny, because he always seems to show up every goddamned time. Somehow it’s gotten worse in the last few weeks, too. You’ve barely been able to get a moment alone with whoever you’ve been chatting up before Neteyam has appeared, snapping at them to get back to training or duties or whatever lousy excuse he’s been able to come up with in the moment.

“What do you want?” You snap, impatient and too strung tight to waste your energy on pretending at politeness.

A very delayed reaction finally hits Txetyo, and he scrambles to remove his hand from the inside of your top. His hand alone is so large that the outline of it is painfully obvious even through your shirt, and you close your eyes with a sigh as he clumsily pushes himself away from you in a rather ungainly attempt at pretending nothing was going on.

“Neteyam!” He blurts, his ears flattening against his skull. He’s clearly mortified at being caught in such a position by Toruk Makto’s son, and he overcompensates by attempting to scoot away as though he hadn’t even been touching you.

You try not to roll your eyes – you’re used to this, after all. You’ve been with several Na’vi men, but they all seem to have the same sort of embarrassment about actually being open with the fact that they’ve hooked up with you. You can’t be all that annoyed about it, you suppose. You understand where it’s coming from. You’ve been around the Omaticaya your whole life, and while the taboo of having Sky People around has faded somewhat, that doesn’t mean that anyone is actually willing to admit that they’ve been with you.

You’re used to it. It’s fine. You’re just a little mortified that Neteyam is currently witnessing the scramble for Txetyo to get away from you.

He’s watching the other man with his head still tilted to the side, his big golden eyes dark in the cool shade of the hut. A muscle in his jaw is flexing, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“I will- I will see you later?” Txetyo whispers to you as he stands. He probably intended for his voice to be low enough that it stayed between just you and him, but the hut is quiet enough that there’s no doubt Neteyam can hear him just fine.

“Mhm. Yeah.” You murmur back, watching Txetyo’s big broad back as he steps away from you, all hasty and flustered.

Txetyo gets as far as Neteyam, who’s still standing with his arms crossed in the doorway. Neteyam doesn’t so much as shift, his eyes dragging with lazy satisfaction over the myriad of scrapes and bruises that he had left on Txetyo during their sparring earlier.

Txetyo shifts on his feet, visibly nervous in the face of his future chief’s judgement. “Ah… Will we train again tomorrow, Neteyam?”

Neteyam hums non-committedly, before finally stepping away from the doorway. He brushes past Txetyo, and you wonder if he’s always so dismissive of his fellow warriors or if he’s just being an even bigger dickhead today for some reason.

“We will see.” Neteyam says shortly, though he’s not even looking Txetyo’s way.

Taking that as the dismissal it so clearly is, Txetyo nods awkwardly before disappearing out of the hut, leaving you and Neteyam alone.

For a long moment, you do your best to avoid looking up. You’re beyond irritated right now, made so much worse by the fact that your panties are kind of wet and you’re so fucking desperate for attention right now. The little wooden bowls knock together clumsily as you try to arrange them without looking up, but it becomes difficult when Neteyam lowers himself down to sit opposite you.

“The tsahìk’s hut is a bold place for such activities.” He says, and you don’t have to look up to know that there’s a stupid smug look on his face. “What would my grandmother think?”

As he sits down, he places a woven bag by your knee. You don’t need to look at it to know what it is; he’s always bringing stuff to the healing hut for his grandmother. Herbs or medicinal plants, fibres for weaving bandages, even animal bones that he had whittled down for needles for suturing.

Even you can grudgingly admit it’s thoughtful; but he only ever seems to bring it when you’re around. It’s like he just wants to rub it in your face that he excels at everything he does – it’s extremely annoying.

You finally look up, your face already scrunched in a scowl. “What do you want?”

He raises his hairless brows at you, an expression he no doubt learned from his father. “I would like my cuts from training treated. What else would I be here for?”

And now you know that he’s just messing with you, because while Txetyo was covered in bruises and abrasions from his tough training session earlier, Neteyam doesn’t have a single visible scratch.

“What exactly am I supposed to treat?” You ask, voice tight.

Neteyam shifts, proffering you his shoulder, and you see a single scrape along his otherwise flawless striped blue skin. You purse your lips, staring at it in mild disbelief.

“You can’t be serious.” You say, deadpan.

But it’s clear that Neteyam is serious, because he’s already stretching out on the comfy woven rugs of his grandmother’s hut as if he belongs there. It’s obvious that he has no intention of moving – he must have come here just to torture you.

You blow out a frustrated breath, the inside of your respirator mask fogging up briefly before rapidly clearing. Neteyam is infuriating. He gets under your skin in a way that no one else does, as though he knows every goddamn little button to press just to aggravate you.

Maybe it’s just a by-product of having been raised as next in line to lead the Omaticaya, or of being Toruk Makto’s oldest son, but you’ve always found Neteyam closed off and distant.

Truthfully, you can’t say for certain if he’s always been this way. When you were young teenagers, you hadn’t had much contact with him; he was always busy with his own training, and then the whole Sully family had left for Awa’atlu. When they had returned, several years later, Neteyam had been more reserved, and yet somehow even cockier and more confident than ever.

“I don’t understand you. There’s no need for you to get this scrape seen to, and you know it. You just like wasting my time.”

He just watches you as you complain, his eyes hooded and dark in a way that honestly leaves you a little heated. He doesn’t deny it, which only irritates you further. You knew he was just trying to annoy you!

“It’s your job to treat wounds when you’re here, isn’t it?” He asks, and you can see the way his tail is lazily undulating behind him, skimming across the woven carpet. He’s enjoying arguing with you.

You huff out a put-upon sigh, before grabbing two of the jars. The ointment is naturally antiseptic but it goes on with quite a sting; you try not to feel satisfied about that as you coat your fingers in it before dabbing it onto the scrape on Neteyam’s shoulder. You’re not as gentle as you’d usually be either, your patience is too thin for you to be considerate with him right now.

But this is not Txetyo. This is Neteyam, and he doesn’t so much as flinch as you rub the paste over his still sluggishly bleeding scratch, even though you know it must sting. You try not to feel irked by his stoicism.

As you work, Neteyam’s head rolls back. In a move that’s almost imperceptible, his nostrils flare and he scents the air. You assume it’s the fairly astringent scent of the herbal paste you’ve just pulled out that’s bothering him, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Problem?”

His lips quirk, though he manages to keep his expression neutral. “No. I am simply enjoying being under your tender care.”

You narrow your eyes at him. He’s mocking you now.

The fact that he had walked in on Txetyo’s hand up your top as he groped at your tits feels like a heavy unspoken weight in between you as you dab at his minor wound. You keep waiting for him to bring it up, to laugh at you for it, but he remains stubbornly quiet as you work, his golden eyes watching you in quiet contemplation.

In fact, he’s never brought up any of the times he’s interrupted you right before you got with someone. He’s caught you in varying levels of undress, with Na’vi men over you, under you, holding you, touching you, kissing you, but somehow just before anything good actually happened. Every time the men had scrambled away from you as though you were something diseased, mortified at being caught with a tawtute by Neteyam, a man that (for some reason you can’t comprehend) they seem to have an awful lot of respect for.

In the beginning, you were inclined to come up with excuses for him; he was Jake Sully’s oldest son, and was inevitably going to keep track of his peers and where they disappeared off to when they had duties that they should be attending to. But now, you think he’s doing it to spite you specifically. It might be a bit of a self-centred thing to believe, but you’re almost certain of it.

You shift on your knees beside him, raising yourself up a little to ensure that you’ve covered all parts of his scrape. You don’t want him returning tomorrow to complain that you didn’t do a good job.

You have to bite back another sigh as you do so, your thighs rubbing together in a way that sends a sharp jolt up your spine. You’re horny and needy and so, so resentful of the fact that you’re now treating the same man that’s the direct cause of your state right now.

Neteyam’s attitude wasn’t the only thing that changed in his time away, however. You have to keep your eyes fixed carefully on his bruising shoulder, because if you didn’t you know that your gaze would wander, and that’s a dangerous game to be playing in the presence of someone as perceptive as Neteyam.

But it’s difficult not to look. Time and ocean air has been kind to him; he’s grown as tall as his father, and whatever sort of training or work he had been doing with the Metkayina has resulted in broader shoulders and a more sturdy build than is typical of the Omaticaya. It’s galling to admit, and makes you feel as though you’ve eaten something sour and unpleasant, but Neteyam is hot as hell.

He might be aggravating and smug and too cocky, but no one in their right mind could deny that he’s attractive. Not even you. Especially you, if you’re being honest with yourself, considering your penchant for enormous blue alien men that could snap you in two with a pinkie if they felt so inclined.

God, you really have to think about something else. You’re so wet that your panties are starting to get uncomfortable, so you focus determinedly on the resentment that’s still simmering over the fact that Neteyam had interrupted what was promising to be a very productive encounter with Txetyo.

Neteyam shuffles a little where he’s sitting in front of you, and your eyes track the way his muscles bunch and shift under his vibrant blue skin. Damn, but seeing Na’vi musculature up close never gets old, even if it’s Neteyam.

You’re almost finished with dabbing paste on the tiny scrape (and you hate to admit that it had taken you longer than it should have due to your distraction), when Neteyam half-turns his head towards you.

“My back is sore, also.” He murmurs, though his eyes remain downcast.

You pause, staring at him. “Okay. And?”

There’s a moment where the two of you just look expectantly at each other. When nothing comes of that, Neteyam speaks again.

“You are playing healer today, are you not?” He asks, and his left ear twitches oddly. “Or is your attention all reserved for Txetyo, hm?”

Your cheeks heat in humiliation and your jaw clenches. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself from making some sort of stupid comment.

“Lay down.” You snap, prickly and embarrassed.

“Yes ma’am.” Neteyam purrs, probably all satisfied that he’s gotten under your skin. He reclines, all of those lithe muscles flexing and bunching as he rolls over onto his stomach.

You grab another pot of ointment, and then take a moment to steady yourself.

You know that he’s winding you up on purpose, just like always, but you can never figure out why. He doesn’t treat you like any of the other men in the village do – they might enjoy fucking you, but they’re rarely caught dead in public with you, worried about what it might mean for their own reputations.

Neteyam is bolder, more confident; though the burden of responsibility that he carries is unmistakable, he never seems to get caught up with the petty whispering and musings of the village people. It’s just unfortunate that he seems so set on bothering you.

Your mouth goes dry as your eyes drop mindlessly over the expanse of his long, pretty back. His skin is stretched tight over lithe muscle, little luminescent white freckles glinting like little stars. He looks so smooth, though the flawlessness of his body is marred by thick pale scars that litter his skin, courtesy of the near legendary battle with the RDA that you hear happened off the coast of Awa’atlu.

You glance down, flustered. Fuck. It would be so much easier to hate him if he wasn’t physically perfect.

“Problem?” Neteyam’s voice is a little lower in register than it was before, perhaps because he’s lying on his stomach with his head pillowed under his crossed arms.

You twitch. Shit. You had gotten distracted, and had lost yourself staring at him.

“No. Shut up.” You blurt reflexively, dipping your fingers into the oily ointment used for easing sore muscles.

Neteyam huffs quietly, a sound that could be a grunt or a laugh, but doesn’t bother responding. It makes you feel as though you’ve lost a game you didn’t know you were playing.

Antsy and on edge, you lean forward and survey his strong back properly. When he's laying out in front of you like this you can see the way his back is knotted with tension and his shoulders are hiked up around his ears. It doesn't look too bad, but it can't be comfortable either.

You take one more moment to admire the musculature of his shoulders, before gathering yourself and dipping your fingers into the ointment. It's balmy against your fingers and smells a little bit like blueberries, and begins to tingle when your hand is entirely coated.

"Where does it hurt most?" You ask, your voice quiet.

In the silence, you can hear Neteyam’s throat click when he swallows.

"My neck and shoulders." When he speaks, his voice is a little deeper than expected.

The very first touch to Neteyam’s back pulls a quiet sigh out of him; it sounds like relief.

Considering his size, it takes surprisingly little to have him melting under your hands. Your fingers spread under his scapula, finding a knot in the muscle and pressing in hard. It takes a bit of finagling, but after some firm pressure you feel the muscle begin to soften beneath your touch.

Gaining confidence, you return your kneading fingers to his neck. He really is terribly tense, and shivering spasms flit up and down the muscles of his back in regular intervals as you drag the warm palms of your hands over him. As your fingers work into his tense muscles, he lets out quiet little grunts that are muffled by the cradle of his arms.

“Why were you so hard on Txetyo during training?” You ask as your fingers dig into the tense tissue of his back. Your voice is unintentionally loud in the quiet of the hut. “He looked as though he had been attacked by a thanator when he was here earlier.”

Neteyam just grunts. “Txetyo is an overconfident skxawng. He is not nearly as skilled as he thinks he is.”

You click your tongue, dissatisfied with that answer. “I could say the same about you.”

Just like all your attempts to insult him, your words seem to bounce right off him. Stupid thick-skinned bastard. His pretty mouth tilts up in a smile.

“I have the skills to back it up, paskalin.”

Your lips purse at the name, your cheeks hot. God, he’s such an asshole.

When you exert pressure as you run your fingers down his spine, Neteyam grunts softly into his arms. The sound is startling in the quiet, interrupting the steady rhythm of your quiet breathing.

"Does that hurt?" You ask. Your voice comes out a little shakier than you’d like.

"No." Neteyam’s voice comes out in a low, gravelly rumble. The sound of it almost startles you into snatching your hands away, but you manage to refrain yourself. "Keep going."

You just swallow thickly, and try to keep yourself on task. “He just wants to be better. He was excited to train with you–”

“Lower.” Neteyam groans, shifting under your hands.

You clench your teeth. Really, you should probably just walk away from him. There’s no real need for you to be doing any of this. He’s not even injured, and who knows whether he’s telling the truth about his back being tense.

But you’re stupid, and you’ve never been good at walking away, from either fighting or fucking. This strange encounter feels as though it lies somewhere in the middle of those two things. Your palms drag down to his lower back, and he flinches briefly before melting under your touch.

His body is so big that it’s difficult to get a good angle to knead properly at his tense muscles, and before you can think too hard about it you swing your leg over his hips. You settle back, perching your weight cautiously at the base of his spine.

It's a braver move than you would usually make, but you try not to second-guess yourself — like this, you have so much more leverage to rub at the rigid sinews of his back. You drag your knuckles down the length of his spine and he groans into the cradle of his arms.

You try to ignore the excited flutter in your belly. It’s just Neteyam. You’re not actually getting turned on from this; the only reason you’re so affected is because you had been horny with Txetyo. You shift where you’re sitting on his back, but you have to force yourself still almost immediately, because the friction nearly makes your lungs seize.

“Comfortable?” Neteyam murmurs, and you can hear amusement in his voice.

“Shut up.” You say reflexively, before scowling. “I can’t believe you interrupted me and Txetyo just for this. You have, like, one bruise–”

“It’s a very sore bruise.” He murmurs lazily, sounding unbothered. “Do you think squeezing your tits might help? That seemed to help Txetyo feel better.”

You pause, jaw dropping in indignation. “I– shut up!”

Neteyam makes a noise that sounds like a snicker, and you dig your fingers down the planes of his back vengefully. His waist narrows into an elegant taper, and when you reach the part of his back where his ass begins to swell, you exert firm pressure against the base of his tail.

If you had done it to a human, you know it would have hurt. But instead the tightness of the muscle unfurls under your fingers, and Neteyam gives a long, low groan. The sound is delightfully gravelly, and you take a breath as you feel molten heat ooze down into your belly and settle between your legs. It’s not a reaction you had been expecting.

You sit back onto his lower back, avoiding his tail. From here, you have a truly captivating view of how slick his back looks from the ointment, and how his skin glows in the dim light of the hut. His body really is perfect, and your eyes track over the taut shiny scars that litter his skin.

“Mmm. May I get up? Or do you want to sit on me a little while longer?” Neteyam’s low voice breaks you out of your stupor, and you’re horrified to find that you’ve just been sitting there with your wet panties pressed against his back beneath your thin shorts.

You scramble off him quickly, flustered and clumsy. It had been a bold move to straddle him in the first place, and now you feel very stupid about it.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You blurt, just to say something into the silence.

“Why are we still talking about Txetyo?” Neteyam has always been a relatively tolerant and even-keeled man, but you can hear irritation beginning to bubble up in his voice.

“Because–” You start to say, but then Neteyam rolls over so that he’s laying on his back.

Now that he's lying on his back, stretched out all long and lithe, your eyes rove over his face and then down his throat, his chest, his stomach, his hips. Your eyes catch on the protrusion between his legs and stick there, your mouth dropping open in surprise when you see that his loincloth is tented.

“Because- he… you were too–” You try valiantly to finish your sentence, but your thoughts have scattered to the wind.

He’s hard. Why the fuck is he hard? Is that just from you rubbing his back? Oh my god, what are you supposed to say? It feels like his hard-on is staring at you.

Neteyam pushes himself up into a sitting position, his hands planted on the woven rug behind him as he pushes himself up so that he’s sitting looming over you. Once he’s upright, Neteyam flexes his shoulders and groans slightly as he goes. It doesn't sound like a pained groan, thankfully.

The movement brings him closer to you than you had been expecting, and you end up freezing. Like this, you can see the way his expression has smoothed into one of relief. His shoulders are looser too, no longer held bunched up around his neck.

Neteyam doesn't seem to notice your close proximity, nor the way you have tensed at the lack of space between them. You’re not touching, but you’re so close that you swear you can physically feel the air between you.

“If Txetyo is so upset about being beaten by me in training, then he should focus on getting better instead of slinking away with his tail between his legs and trying to screw you in a corner of my grandmother’s hut.”

You gape at him like an absolute idiot, floored by the acerbity in his tone. You’ve always thought Neteyam was a bit of a dickhead, but that was mostly because of his nearly insufferable need to always be the best. Always the best warrior, the best son, the best brother, the best future Olo’eyktan. The best role model to his peers.

“So that’s what this is about.” You say, your voice coming out distinctly accusatory. “You don’t like that your friends are fucking a human, is that it?”

Neteyam doesn’t even bother answering. He just rolls his now loosened shoulders and watches you carefully. He doesn't tell you to back off, or wrinkle his nose at you, or act as though he's repulsed by you. He just stares at you across the miniscule space between you, and that only angers you further.

“Is that why you keep interrupting whenever I’m with any of the other tsamsiyu?” You demand, fists clenching. “What, you don’t like that your friends find a tawtute attractive? Is that why you keep cockblocking me?”

Neteyam huffs a quiet snort, as though he thinks you’re being stupid.

“I hear what some of the Na’vi in the village say, about how it’s shameful to be with a tawtute.” You hiss. “I just didn’t think you’d be one of them.”

And if you’re honest with yourself, it sort of hurts. Neteyam has always gotten on your nerves with his confusing mix of overconfidence and jagged insecurities, and he had really infuriated you when he had started to interrupt all of those illicit little meetups you had planned with some of the boys in the village, but you hadn’t actually thought that he had any disdain for you like some of the other Na’vi.

And then you do something so stupid that it shocks even you.

Your eyes drop back down to the tent in his tewng, eyeing it thoughtfully, before reaching out and running your fingers over the hardened outline of his cock through the fabric with purpose.

Neteyam hisses, and his hips actually lift off the floor in an attempt to follow your touch.

“God, you’re a hypocrite, aren’t you?” You breathe, fighting to keep your voice casual. “How can you judge your friends for fucking around with me when you’re this hard after just a backrub?”

“They’re not my friends.” Neteyam grunts, his jaw clenching as his head tilts back. His hips rock into your hand.

Your touch goes firmer, and then your hand slips under his loincloth. You’ve had plenty of sexual encounters with Na’vi men, but this is different.

This is Neteyam. This encounter feels like proving a point. A very sexually charged point.

His cock is silky smooth and hot to the touch, and you feel a little drunk as your fingers close around it. And damn, it feels big. All Na’vi cocks are big compared to your hands, but this… feels different. You were aroused anyway, you’ve been feeling pent up all damn week, but now that your hand is on his dick your nerves are fizzing up.

It’s a surprise when Neteyam’s big hand settles on your waist to tug you closer, and you feel your stomach swoop when he pulls you forward. You don’t release his cock even as he pulls you to settle over one of his thighs, your legs slotted in between his, and you can feel him harden even further beneath you.

You wonder absently if it's really you that's causing his very obvious arousal or if it's just a natural consequence of the massage; either way, when his hips flex up towards you, they press right in between your legs.

You shiver almost violently, the sensation of him pressing hot and hard against your core frying your nerves and wiping your thoughts clean. The part of your brain that had been screaming about what a bad idea this whole thing is has become muffled now, and your own hips jerk against his.

“You’re such an asshole,” You say, though your voice comes out reedy and breathless. “You of all people don’t have a right to talk shit about those guys just cause they’re into humans, especially when your cock is this hard, and especially considering where your dad came from–”

He lets out a soft, quiet noise as you move against him, and uses his grip on the back of your top to pull you tighter against him yet again. “Don’t talk about my father when you have my cock in your hand.”

It takes what feels like a monumental effort to wrench your hand away from him, and he lets out a wordless grunt of dissatisfaction as his hips twitch in an effort to follow your hand. It’s delightfully pathetic, and you feel your ego swell at the sheer sense of power that washes over you; it’s a rare feeling, especially when you’re faced with a big blue alien almost twice your size.

“You should apologise to Txetyo.” You sound like an out of breath idiot. “It’s not like you can judge him for being with a tawtute when you’re that hard from me just touching you.”

Neteyam just stares at you, his jaw clenching and his honey eyes dark as he takes several breaths through his nose. You’ve never seen him like this before; you’ve never seen any of the men you’ve been with like this before. It looks as though he’s holding onto a thin veneer of control, and you wonder if he’s angry with you, if you’ve perhaps pushed him too far.

“That was never the issue.” He says and fuck, his voice has gone so gravelly. “And don’t pretend that you’re not wet beneath those clothes of yours. I can smell it.”

Your thighs squeeze together as you swallow hard, struggling to maintain your aura of indifference and no doubt failing.

“That’s because of Txetyo.” You say, and it tastes like a lie on your tongue. “You interrupted us.”

Neteyam laughs quietly and humourlessly. His expression suggests that he doesn’t find anything about this conversation funny, and his hand is still splayed across your back. You’re so damn conscious of how big his palm is as it spreads across your spine. Why the hell hasn’t he let go of you yet?

“Ah, I see.” Neteyam murmurs. “You would have fucked him in my grandmother’s hut?”

Your mouth is so damn dry, and you swallow compulsively. “It’s not any of your business who I fuck.”

Neteyam’s smile is grim. “Txetyo would fuck his own shadow if he were nimble enough to catch it. You have terrible taste in men.”

You rear back. You’re surprised by how much that hurts. Living as a human on Pandora is lonely, and it’s not like you have people lining up outside the human outpost looking to spend time with you. If you want any sort of companionship or intimacy, you have to accept any attention that you can get. And sure, most of that attention comes from men that only want to get their dicks wet, or the experience of being with a tawtute, but it’s better than nothing at all.

“Well, we can’t all be the Olo’eyktan’s son.” You say, your voice stiff and cold. “We don’t all have countless suitors throwing themselves at our feet. Some of us have to accept attention from whoever’s interested.”

Neteyam’s expression shifts, an odd look appearing in his eyes, and your stomach swoops. You don’t think you could bear to see pity in his eyes, so you pull away from him, shaking his hands off.

“Your scratch is fine.” You say, your voice thin and a little thready. “You’re all treated.

“Hey–”

As you stumble to your feet, Neteyam reaches out as if to stop you. You dodge his hands, unable to look him in the eye.

Panic is starting to set in now; what had you been thinking, touching him like that just after he had chided you for flirting with Txetyo in the tsahìk’s hut? God, you feel like such an idiot. He must think you’re so pathetic.

Like a coward, you turn on your heel and flee out of the hut. You need air, you need to be out of the cool darkness of the hut, you need to be away from the overwhelming weight of Neteyam’s presence. Through the blood rushing in your ears you can distantly hear Neteyam call to you, but you’re too desperate to escape from the whole humiliating interaction to stop and listen.

You stagger out of the hut, squinting at the evening light; it seems blinding after spending all day in the dim musty air of Mo’at’s healing hut. You pat at your rumpled shirt and creased denim shorts, flustered and frenzied as you try to straighten yourself out.

“Tawtute?”

You jerk, gasping, and whirl to find that Txetyo is sitting on a log a few feet away from the hut, apparently waiting for you to finish up with Neteyam. You feel like you’re burning up from a mixture of mortification and confused arousal and you’re certain that Neteyam is about to follow you out.

“I– I have to go!” You blurt, already stepping back towards the forest.

Txetyo frowns, obviously bewildered, but he doesn’t stand. “Don’t you want to–”

You don’t wait for him to finish. You’re already fleeing, disappearing into the trees as you run the whole way home.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

It might be a little cowardly, but you avoid the village for days after that.

You stick to the outpost, watching Norm and Max and the other scientists work. You try not to die of boredom, and you try not to overthink and overthink and overthink.

But you have too much time on your hands as you slink around the outpost, and you can’t stop feeling guilty about abandoning your attempts to help Mo’at out in her healing hut.

You also can’t stop thinking about the shift of Neteyam’s muscles in the low dim light, or the silky hot feel of his cock in your hand, or the soft breathy grunts he had let out as his hips rocked. It feels like the experience has actually rewired your brain, as though you’ll never recover from it.

Growing up on Pandora as a human has been lonely. The only other human your age is Spider, who had become the closest thing you have to a brother – and you love him even when you feel like throttling him, but sometimes you just yearn for more.

You want companionship, you want understanding, you want romance, you want sexual intimacy. You don’t think it’s too much to ask for, and if you have to turn to big nine-feet-tall Na’vi warriors who just want to say they’ve had the experience of sleeping with a tawtute, then that’s… fine. Even if it’s only temporary.

Part of you is honestly relieved when Spider finally manages to force you out of the outpost and back to the village. It’s a relief to get back into the forest, to the village, to the life you’re used to. The outpost has nothing on the vibrancy of the village life, and you feel as though you can breathe for the first time in days upon stepping back into the village, even if it’s through your respirator mask.

There’s been a big hunt today, and the village is buzzing with excitement. You pass by several willowy Na’vi covered in celebratory paint, and follow the sound of the heavy thumping of drums.

The evening after a hunt is always a joyful affair, and you gradually start to relax throughout the night. You feast on collected fruit, hum along to some of the music, and sit comfortably with Spider all evening. At some point you’re joined by Lo’ak, which you don’t mind either; Lo’ak has always been the kind of outcast that fits comfortably between the edges of you and Spider. Those edges have smoothed out as he got older, but he’s always been a cool guy to hang out with.

When he’s not joining Spider in ganging up on you, that is.

“So– so wait, wait, let me get this straight,” Lo’ak is waving his hands as though trying to settle down a group of rowdy children, even though it’s just the three of you present. “Neteyam walked in on you fucking again, but this time it was in grandmother’s hut–”

You’re sat around the large campfire in the middle of the village, tucked away from the main celebrations. Part of you is flourishing being in this environment again, but another part is withering at this damn conversation. You glance around nervously, hoping that no casual observers can hear you guys talking.

“Txetyo only had his hand up my top!” You hiss hastily. “We weren’t actually– and we would have gone somewhere else when it came down to it!”

“Txetyo is a dickhead.” Spider complains, leaning heavily on your side. He’s so frequently dwarfed by the Na’vi that it’s easy to forget that he’s over six-feet-tall and corded with muscle, and his bulk is heavy.

Irritatingly, Lo’ak leans into you the same way on the other side, though he’s more careful about leaning his full weight, and you end up crushed in between the two idiots.

“He isn’t.” You protest, pushing back against their weight. “He’s–”

“Nah, he is.” Lo’ak interrupts before you can defend him. “Total skxawng. You know he keeps telling people he’s the best archer in the clan? And yet he didn’t manage to catch anything in today’s hunt–”

You try not to wince at that. It’s impossible to miss that while Txetyo may not have been successful in the hunt today, someone else is being lauded for their skill and success.

Neteyam has been given a place of honour by the fire next to his parents, and the careful swirls of paint all over his body can’t hide the proud glow on his face. Under the smooth veneer of Neteyam’s smiles and cheer was the jagged edge of his inferiority complex, his need to always be better and to be liked. Funnily enough, his insecurity has always been your favourite part of him. It felt real in a way his cockiness didn’t.

You can’t stop yourself from glancing over. Night has already fallen and there are many couples dancing, the flickering firelight sending wild shadows across the gathering. But even in the unsteady light, you catch the intense golden stare of Neteyam watching you from across the circle.

You hastily turn your face away, pressing your lips together tight as you try to pretend like you hadn’t been looking in the first place.

“–He’s better than Art’alak, at least.” Spider says, continuing on the conversation that you had checked out of for a few moments. “That guy was awful. I mean, what did you even see in him?”

You roll your eyes, sinking further back into the stupidly heavy weight of Spider and Lo’ak in a silly attempt to hide yourself from view. It almost definitely doesn’t work, and you can still feel the weight of Neteyam’s stare on you, even as you fixedly ignore him.

“Pretty sure we don’t want the answer to that one, man.” Lo’ak says, snickering.

His eyes glance around, before flashing across the gathering as though he can also feel Neteyam’s attention. You frown as Lo’ak hastily removes his arm from around your shoulders, even leaning away from you a little.

“I’m allowed to want company.” You say loftily, though you’re certain that your voice is a little shaky.

It feels like your skin is heating up under Neteyam’s eyes, and you feel yourself getting shifty. Why won’t he just look away?

Lo’ak obviously notices his brother’s attention, because he leans a little closer so he can speak quietly in your ear.

“My brother can be unbearable,” Lo’ak murmurs, “But he’s not a bad guy.”

“Gross.” You wrinkle your nose playfully at Lo’ak’s rare display of sincerity about his brother and he hisses at you, swiping at your head.

It’s all in jest, which is obvious given how gentle his hands are with you, and you laugh and lean away.

“I just– I don’t understand him.” You sigh once your laughter has tapered off. “I mean, I get that he doesn’t approve of the whole interspecies thing, but it’s like he goes out of his way to catch me in embarrassing situations. If he finds it gross, why seek it out?”

Lo’ak purses his lips and avoids your eyes. “Uh…”

“Anytime he shows up, the guys I’m with go running.” You continue, your brows knitting into a frown. “I mean, it’s getting ridiculous. Why can’t he just mind his own business?”

Lo’ak’s eyes dart over your head, and you just know that he and Spider are sharing a look together.

“He doesn’t– I wouldn’t say he disapproves of interspecies relationships–” Lo’ak says, but he fumbles a little in his attempt to get his words out and darts another panicked glance across the fire towards where Neteyam is sitting with their father.

You just scoff, crossing your arms defensively across your chest. You feel a little vulnerable talking about this; usually, you’re content to suffer through the embarrassment of having your sex partners pretending they don’t know you in public alone, but since Neteyam had started walking in on you, now he knows that they’re doing it too.

“He scolds them like they’re children whenever he walks in on us, talking about how they’re neglecting their duties and all that,” You mutter, scowling. “But it’s obviously because he’s annoyed that his friends are messing around with a Sky Person.”

Spider shifts at your side, making an odd sound beneath his breath. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring rather fixedly at a tree branch overhead. Lo’ak clears his throat, similarly looking off to the side to avoid your eyes.

You frown. It feels as though they’re hiding something from you, and the thought is unsettling.

“What?” You demand, sitting forward and staring intently at them.

“Nothing,” Lo’ak protests, but his voice is a little too high-pitched to be believable. “Uh… It’s just… well, I really don’t think that Neteyam has a problem with interspecies relationships. Our dad came from the Sky, too!”

You think that Lo’ak probably intended for that to be reassuring, but instead you find your stomach sinking miserably.

“Oh.” You say, pursing your lips. “So it’s me that he has a problem with.”

“No!” Lo’ak protests, but then he pauses. His mouth opens and closes as he struggles to form a response under the weight of your narrowed eyes.

When no explanation comes, you end up just averting your gaze and looking towards the fire. It’s stupid, but you’re not sure what you were even expecting. Neteyam has always been perfect in his personal life, his duties, his relationships within the clan, his looks. It’s hardly a surprise that he’s developed a distaste for you – you know what Sky People represent to the Na’vi, after all.

Across the gathering, two Na’vi girls are shooting looks at Spider. You almost think they’re looking at him in disgust, but when Spider catches their eye and smiles back they both look away giggling.

You click your tongue and roll your eyes. You wonder when exactly it was that the Na’vi your age stopped seeing you as human nuisances that haunt the village, and started instead seeing you as people with possible sexual appeal.

“That is just unfair.” You intone dully. “You get Na’vi girls flirting with you from across the campfire, and I get Na’vi boys fucking me in corners and then pretending they don’t know me. And that’s only if I don’t get rudely interrupted by Lo’ak’s asshole brother.”

“Men.” Lo’ak says in a disparaging tone that sounds as though it’s meant to be sympathetic, but it falls short as he’s biting his tongue to keep from laughing. “Maybe you just have bad taste.”

Spider laughs too, though he’s still looking in the Na’vi girls’ direction. There’s a pink flush in his cheeks, and his smile looks distinctly pleased.

“Yeah,” You grumble, sinking down where you’re sitting. “I’m hearing that a lot.”

The conversation moves on then, Lo’ak nudging at Spider over your head and grinning as he recounts the highlights from the hunt earlier that day, but you’re distracted. You hardly even hear a word they say, too busy staring broodingly into the fire.

Luckily, neither Lo’ak nor Spider mind your silence. They’re perfectly content to fill the quiet themselves, chatting and babbling and joking over your head.

You’re drifting, lost in your own thoughts until you hear Lo’ak and Spider go quiet. You glance over to them, only to realise why they’ve stopped talking – Neteyam is walking your way.

You stiffen, eyes narrowing behind your respirator mask as he comes to a stop before you all. He greets his brother and Spider briefly, distractedly, before his big amber eyes settle on you.

All you can do is wait, tensed. You have no idea what he’s going to do or say, but if he says something about that day in the healing hut you might actually scream.

But Neteyam doesn’t immediately say anything. He crouches in front of you, his gaze as measured and even as ever, and proffers a wrapped utumauti leaf to you. For a moment, you just stare at it as though it’s something venomous.

“A portion of yerik meat,” Neteyam clarifies, not even blinking as he watches your face. “From the hunt earlier.”

Oh. Now you see. He’s just showing off, like he always does. He’s always doing things like this, just to show off his skills, his prowess, how strong he is. It’s irritating; everyone already knows how great he is, and he’s already practically revered throughout the village. You don’t know why he keeps trying to flaunt his greatness in front of you, other than the fact that he must love to annoy you.

Spider nudges you in the side, and you reach out to take the wrapped meat from Neteyam’s outstretched hand.

“Thank you.” You say, a little tersely.

Neteyam just nods, his tail coiling. He watches your face for another moment, and all the unspoken tension between you from the other day seems to swell to unbearable heights. His ears twitch, and then he glances over his shoulder to where his parents are sitting by the fire. They’re watching, which makes you feel itchy and embarrassed.

“I should return.” He says simply, before standing and nodding at you, then Spider and Lo’ak, before straightening up and walking back to his place by Jake, his tail swaying low.

There’s a long moment of silence, where you can feel Lo’ak and Spider staring at you.

“Don’t.” You say sharply when you see Lo’ak’s mouth open, and he closes it with a click.

This feels embarrassing, as though Neteyam is mocking you somehow. It’s not the first time he’s given you food, always making sure to let you know he caught it himself. It’s like he has a damn pathological need to show off his skills, to try and prove himself, to prove that he’s better than anyone else. It’s aggravating, even more so now that Lo’ak has made it clear that it’s you that Neteyam has a problem with.

Eventually, Spider and Lo’ak return to their conversation and you pull back, sitting silently between them. You pull your mask off for a brief moment to nibble at the meat. You’re a little irritated to admit that it’s delicious, and you sit back to lean into Spider’s side as you chew at it sullenly.

You’ve just begun to wonder if this night is a total bust altogether when you catch movement out of the corner of your eye. You raise your head, surprised to see the sight of Txetyo stepping towards you.

At your side, Spider and Lo’ak share a look before sitting up straighter.

“Tawtute,” Txetyo greets, nodding his head at you. He casts a single cautious look towards Lo’ak, before focusing on you properly.

He is keeping his voice purposely low so that no one else can hear, but you can’t bring yourself to care. This is the most public setting that any man has ever actually approached you in, and you can feel your expression brightening already.

“Hello.” You murmur, smiling sweetly at him. The last time you had seen him had been right after you had fled the tsahik’s hut, right after you had touched Neteyam– and no, you are not thinking about that right now.

“I would like to speak with you.” Txetyo murmurs, his voice low as he darts one more quick look between Lo’ak and Spider before settling on you again.

You brighten. You’re under no illusions about what Txetyo wants to ‘speak’ about, and you can safely assume that there will be little to no talking involved at all.

Yes. A distraction. This is exactly what you need.

“Sure.” You say, your lips curving up in a coy smile as you unfold yourself from where you’ve been sitting between Spider and Lo’ak.

“Uh–” Lo’ak starts to say, but you’re already beginning to step away with Txetyo, who’s beginning to lead you away from the gathering.

Maybe it’s a little impulsive, but you’re feeling reckless tonight. You can still feel Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back as you follow Txetyo towards the treeline, but you determinedly refuse to look. The celebration should be enough of a distraction to keep him busy and away from you for a while so you can finally get laid.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ

You resist the urge to check the time on your battered old wristwatch as Txetyo slides down your body and repositions himself between your legs.

It feels like such a long time since you’ve hooked up successfully with anyone, with no interruptions, which is probably why you’ve been so affected by all-things-Neteyam recently. You were hoping that this encounter with Txetyo would restore you back to normal, to get rid of all the thoughts of Neteyam’s intense golden stare and pretty face and silken hot cock that are absolutely haunting you.

Yet, so far, the night’s been less than stellar. Txetyo had led you away from the celebrations, and you had to try hard to pretend like you don’t see him looking around compulsively to make sure that no one else has seen him leave with you. You had followed him into the trees, and had brightened up when he took your hand as soon as you were out of sight of the gathering.

Before you knew it, you were on your back on the forest floor with your panties around your ankles and your dress rucked up around your waist as Txetyo loomed over you on his hands and knees.

Txetyo is handsome, and he’s big and strong and he’s not opposed to hooking up with a Sky Person, but he’s not much for conversation and it seems like he’s only really got one thing on his mind. Apparently, your list of criteria might be a little lacking, because Txetyo’s also proving to be woefully bad at sex.

He spreads your legs and buries his face there. You blink at the canopy of glowing foliage overhead, grimacing. Honestly, you’d think that anything tongue-adjacent would feel good against a clit, but that’s just not true. Txetyo seems to have an affinity for moving his tongue rapidly and aimlessly against you, resulting in nothing better than the occasional teasing — definitely by accident.

You shift a little, try to angle your hips so that Txetyo’s mouth is over your clit, but he doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’re attempting to do at all. He just moves his mouth away, jabbing his tongue sort of aimlessly at your left labia.

“Could you– a bit higher–” You say, trying to shift again.

Txetyo’s mouth is rather sloppy against your pussy, but you’re not actually sure what he’s doing down there. He seems to be missing every possible nerve ending that might feel good, which is actually a little bit impressive.

You sigh, and just resign yourself to getting bad head. You let your head thunk back against the mossy forest floor, your legs hanging off of Txetyo’s big shoulders as he hunches between your thighs.

It’s almost imperceptible, but the quiet ‘crack’ of a twig breaking underfoot has your head snapping around in a panic.

Though night has fallen, it’s never truly dark on Pandora. The moss beneath you glows faintly, illuminating the outline of your body as you lay there with Txetyo getting busy between your legs. The trees and foliage around you are similarly phosphorescent, your surroundings all lit up in luminous vibrance.

Pandora’s bioluminescence is beautiful; it also means that you can see Neteyam’s figure all dimly lit up as he leans against the trunk of a tree about fifteen feet away.

Neteyam’s head is cocked to the side as he very obviously takes in the scene before him, his head turning to scan up and down your body. His little luminous freckles are lit up and glowing, and it’s impossible to miss the fact that his golden eyes are fixed on you, so intense that it’s almost breathtaking.

You almost scream. You mean to, but instead you moan, completely by accident, and Txetyo groans between your legs.

You don’t know what to do. You’re gaping at Neteyam, who seems all too content to just watch you, meanwhile Txetyo is totally oblivious. He’s still doing nothing right, but something deep inside you pulses.

Moments later, much to your horror, Neteyam takes a small, tentative step forward. He stands only a few feet away, behind Txetyo and in plain view of you.

Go away! You mouth, staring at him in disbelief.

Neteyam scratches his head, feigning confusion, and then he takes another step forward.

He doesn’t say anything. Why isn’t he saying anything? It’s not the first time he’s walked in on you in a situation like this, but usually by this point he’s started making snarky comments, which in turn makes the men you’re with scramble away from you like you’re diseased.

Your dress is pushed up clumsily around your stomach, exposing your pussy. There’s a man between your legs. You’re in the process of getting fucked and Neteyam is watching, goddammit.

It definitely, absolutely is not hot. And yet… your hips twitch, and your breath hitches.

“That feel good?” Txetyo asks, peering up to grin at you. Your attention is dragged back to him and you blink, dazed.

“Yeah,” You lie. “So good.”

“Mm,” Txetyo hums in satisfaction, slipping two fingers into you. “Good.”

You grunt at the stretch of his thick fingers, breathing deep. His mouth returns, his fingers jabbing kind of aimlessly, but it hardly matters. Your attention is locked on Neteyam, and it’s somehow making Txetyo’s useless attempts feel somewhat invigorating.

“Oh god,” You gasp. You’re so confused. Part of you is still waiting for Neteyam to speak up, to make a sound or to clear his throat. Something. But he just watches on, his pretty eyes dark.

“Mm, so pretty,” Txetyo murmurs from between your legs, still blissfully unaware of your onlooker. “Can I fuck you now, tawtute?”

Despite yourself, you find your eyes darting over to Neteyam. The stupid fucker is still looking, and when he sees that you’ve looked at him his lips quirk. Your whole body flushes deep with heat, and you try to pretend like you aren’t taking direction from him; usually, his appearance would have stopped this entire encounter dead in its tracks. But you’re continuing, and the fact is, you feel as though you need his permission or something.

“Y-yes.” You say.

Neteyam purses his lips, and raises his non-existent brows. Fuck, what does that mean?

“How would you like me to–”

“Just like this.” You blurt. It feels, for some reason, as though you can’t risk Txetyo noticing Neteyam. This is the only way you can see Neteyam without Txetyo noticing him, anyway.

Txetyo shuffles up your body, his bulk dwarfing you. There’s a moment’s struggle as he’s lining himself up against your pussy, groaning low as he pushes into you. The stretch is intense, and a little painful, as always; you never quite get used to the bone-deep satisfaction of that achey biting stretch in your cunt.

The stretch is satisfying, like it always is, but it’s not necessarily special. Txetyo is not as evenly proportioned as he looks, and his cock is smaller than other Na’vi you’ve been with. That is, mostly, a good thing; it means he can fuck you without lube, which you usually have to use to accommodate the shocking stretch of taking a Na’vi cock. It also means that you adjust to having him inside you a little quicker, your muscles easing gradually around the intrusion of his dick.

What is special (or at least unusual) is the fact that Neteyam is still watching. You stare back, maintaining a bewilderingly intense sort of eye contact. Txetyo groans as your cunt clenches down on him, and he lowers his face to bury it in your shoulder; like this, your view of Neteyam is completely unimpeded.

“Ah! You’re so tight,” Txetyo hisses. “This is okay?”

“Yes,” You gasp. “You can move.”

And by God, does Txetyo move. He jerks in and out of you with a complete lack of coordination. You bounce and flop against the luminescent bed of moss beneath you, occasionally throwing a hand over your head to try and anchor yourself to a tree root behind you, just to stay put for a second or two.

Neteyam is undoubtedly amused. He has a hand pressed to his mouth, and the skin around his eyes is scrunched up with mirth. At one point, when Txetyo starts humping into you so desperately that you grunt, wincing, Neteyam doubles over himself completely, laughing silently.

“Oh, oh,” Txetyo groans. “Tawtute, I am going to– you are so tight, so hot inside–"

You smack one of Txetyo’s hands away from where he’d been rubbing determinedly at the side of your vulva. You rub at your clit instead in fast, harsh circles, staring at Neteyam desperately. You don’t actually know what you’re looking for, or what you want him to do… but you want him to do something.

Neteyam reaches down to palm the bulge at the front of his tewng that you hadn’t even noticed until now, and you moan. You rub yourself even faster, attempting to angle your hips in any way that could increase your pleasure from Txetyo. It seems impossible, but you manage to catch one or two good strokes.

“Please, please—!” You gasp, eyes wide as you maintain eye contact with Neteyam over the wide bulk of Txetyo’s shoulders.

Neyeyam moans. It’s low, barely noticeable under Txetyo’s own strangled sounds, but you hear it clearly. Your body seizes up and then you’re coming, gasping high and quick as you drink Neteyam in with your eyes, frozen under Neteyam’s gaze in turn.

“Unnng,” Txetyo grunts as he comes too, thrusting into you through the last shocks of his orgasm.

You barely even blink, your eyes fixed wide open as you tremble, your breaths shaky. Neteyam doesn’t break eye contact either, watching you so damn closely that it feels bizarrely as though he’s watching a show you’re putting on, as though all of this is for him. The worst part is you feel as though you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t.

Neteyam silently turns and slips away through the foliage, and Txetyo flops onto the mossy ground beside you moments later, breathing heavily.

“That was good.” Txetyo sighs, his voice thick with satisfaction.

You don’t reply, still staring at the place Neteyam had disappeared into the trees. You’re partly unable to believe what just happened and partly turned on beyond belief, just knowing it did.

What the fuck?

#on holidays atm and I’ve been stressing about how to post this 😭 I’ll have part 2 posted in a day or two!#neteyam #neteyam x human #neteyam x reader #avatar x reader #na'vi x human #na’vi x reader #awow #avatar way of water #neteyam fic #fics

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lovewithmary · 1 year ago

Text

(not) moving on — a max verstappen x stark!oc x charles leclerc series

★ fc: madison beer ☆ summary: evangeline "evie" stark is in love with her best friend, max verstappen, but he tries his best to keep her at arm's length. but what happens when she starts to get close to his fellow drivers in the paddock? ★ notes: THE REASON WHY MAX NEVER ENDED UP DATING EVIE GETS REVEALED!!! OHHHH

previous next series masterlist

"So which one of them is it?"

Max nearly has a heart attack at the sound of Natasha's voice, not expecting to hear her when he could've sworn he saw her from across the room. He had grown up knowing the woman, but no matter how many years had passed, he could never figure out Natasha Romanoff.

It was to be expected, considering she had made it so you couldn't figure her out. But even then, it was unnerving to Max to be facing her, when she looked like she could see right through him and knew every secret he was hiding.

Natasha probably did know his secrets. And that's what he was afraid of.

Max had been invited to a little get-together that was only Avengers, Pepper, Morgan, and the Drivers and their WAGs. It was surprising when Max received the text from Tony, thinking that Tony would've sided with his daughter in their fight. However, Max was promised there was no bad blood between him and Tony and he was invited to the get together.

It was weird for him to see his two worlds collide. He had tried his hardest to separate his two worlds, even if it wasn't even technically his world, it was Evie's. He orbited around Evie long enough for him to consider himself as a constant for her, someone Evie could rely on.

He just had to fuck things up in that regard. In this butterfly effect, caused Evie to meet Charles, and now he was sat with the Earth's Mightiest Heroes with his fellow F1 Drivers.

Maybe he needed to evaluate everything he had done in his life up until this point.

"I don't know what you're talking about," was what Max was able to come up with after being shocked by Natasha.

Natasha looked unimpressed with his answer as if she expected him to say that. "So it's both?" Natasha concluded, and Max had never been so confused in his life than he was right at that moment.

"Both?"

"You know, Verstappen, you're pretty easy to read all things considered. So I knew when you started having a crush on Evie, then those feelings became real. What was difficult to understand was the fact that Evie was reciprocating these feelings, yet you never seemed to take the chance, despite your feelings," Natasha started, making Max nervous.

"I had to look at things in a bigger picture. Try to see where your feelings changed about Evie," she continued.

"Only your feelings didn't change. You also have feelings for another. So tell me, Max, what are you going to do with your feelings for both Evie and Charles?"

"How did you know?" Max asked, feeling panicked all of a sudden.

"I didn't, it was a shot in the dark. But you just confirmed it for me," Natasha shrugged, taking a sip of her drink, which was just vodka.

"I thought I was hiding it well, considering it just so happened that the two people I love have gotten together," Max sighed, not even realizing that he admitted he loved them.

"Oh, you are hiding it well. Well, maybe not to me but Evie and Charles have no clue. Whether it's denial or they're just clueless, they don't know,"

What Natasha said finally caught up to Max, not even realizing she had said it until now. "What do you mean what am I going to do with my feelings? I'm obviously not going to act on them," Max told her.

"Why not?"

"Why— why would I try to break them up?! Also, that'd be ruining their relationship and whatever friendship I have left with the both of them," Max exclaimed quietly, shocked at the fact she'd think he'd want to ruin Evie and Max's relationship.

Natasha rolled her eyes and said, "I obviously don't mean you break them up,"

"What did you mean then?" Max asked, his interest piqued since if Natasha didn't mean breaking them up, what did she mean?

"Do I have to spell it out for you Max? Date the both of them," she explained slowly, like he was a small child.

"Wha—"

"You like Charles and Evie, Charles likes Evie and you, and Evie likes you and Charles. Everyone loves everyone and you don't have to keep on sulking," she casually said, as if she didn't say something so shocking to Max.

"I don't sulk," Max was quick to deny.

"Funny how that's the first thing you pay attention to and ignore the fact I said Charles likes you,"

"Charles doesn't like me in that way. But even if he did, I highly doubt a relationship with the both of them is possible,"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Evie barely looks at me because of the shit things I said about her. I'd probably end up fucking it up again if we were all ever together. Charles has only ever talked to me amicably, and I'm pretty sure that's because Evie told him not to let our fight get in the way of our friendship,"

"Max, if Evie was willing to tell Charles that, doesn't that give you even the tiniest bit of hope she'll be willing to forgive you?"

"Even if she was willing, where would I start?"

"How about saying you're sorry?"

#f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 ig au #f1 x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #max verstappen smau #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc x oc

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sacharinee · 1 year ago

Note

hey! so i’ve noticed all your office references and it’s one of my favourite shows ever <3 i was wondering if you’d write something where the reader and bf!peter are both obsessed with the show and quote it at any given moment, confusing (and probably annoying) everyone around them. i love your fics by the way!!

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 800 ish

a/n: dinnertime with the avengers edition! peter and reader being an annoying power duo. a crap ton of office references obviously. this is so weird and all over the place BUT it was so much fun writing. i tweaked ur request a teeny bit to them simply saying lines from the show, but everyone is just as confused and annoyed lmao i hope ur okay w that!! this is also my first time writing with the avengers so i tried my best on getting them right. thank u so much for requesting this!! i had an entire office marathon playing in the background while writing this

“the food looks great, nat,” you take your seat at the dining table.

“yea, it’s amazing, thanks for cooking tonight,” peter chimes in.

you both are sat at the dinner table in the lavish dining room among the earth’s mightiest heroes, who also happen to be your colleagues.

“wait, where did you learn to make all of this? i never pegged you as a cook,” tony questions.

“i’m not,” the redhead answers, “my fake mother used to make this dish all the time when i was younger,”

“awe, that’s adorable,” thor replies.

“right before she and my fake father sold me and had me brainwashed.”

the others freeze midchew and stare as scott drops his fork against his plate.

nat clears her throat, “so anyways, enjoy,” and takes her seat.

the rest of you begin placing heaps of food onto each other’s plates and digging into the meal in front of you.

“well, um,” tony sips his water, “how ‘bout you kids, get any good action tonight?”

peter raises his eyebrows at him, “us? oh yea, we got a good chase during patrol tonight,”

“it was super fun,” you add.

“well what’d he have on him?” wanda asks.

“he was, uhh,” you purse your lips as you hesitate, playing with the food on your plate and quieted your voice, “a-uh, a wanted animal rapist.”

wanda shakes her head at you in repulsion, regretting having asked you.

“that is so disgusting!” the god announces, food spilling out of his mouth.

“thor, close your mouth, you look like a trout.” steve reprimands.

he dismisses his comment and goes to steal the mashed potatoes, eating straight out of the bowl with no shame.

“did he put up a good fight against you guys?” bucky questions.

“well he wasn’t exactly intimidated by me, i usually let y/n play bad cop while i just web them up,” peter admits.

you’re chewing your food while you watch bucky and your boyfriend converse, “see what i told you? you gotta take control, pete. ask yourself this: would you rather be feared or loved by your enemies?”

“easy,” he answers, “both. i want people to be afraid of how much they love me.”

nat pokes her tongue to her cheek and tilts her head in confusion.

“oh, that reminds me,” you nervously chuckle and pull out the slip tucked into your back pocket, “i need you to pay for my speeding ticket, tony.”

“again?! y/n that’s the second time this month!”

“that criminal guy was a surprisingly fast driver. besides, life is short. drive fast and leave a sexy corpse. it’s one of my mottos.”

“goddamnit, y/n” tony mutters and shakes his head in disappointment.

steve interrupts, “you should listen to him, young lady. seriously, what would happen if you were in a speeding car crash? why do you think those laws are enforced? it’s to keep everyone safe. so you better straighten up the attitude before you get yourself k-”

“cap, you ignorant slut.” you’re tired of everyone treating you and peter like little kids, “you want to talk about being safe? are we forgetting about banner’s little experiment that went wrong the other day? he almost blew up the tower!-”

“wait, what did you just call me?” the soldier looks at you dumbfounded.

“what did i- … what’d i say?”

“you just called me a-”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. i talk a lot so i learn to just tune myself out.”

“you and me both,” strange clips.

“wow,” you respond, feigning hurt, “sorry i annoyed you with my friendship.”

tony, having enough, intrudes, “you know, i think i have to put you and peter through some training again.”

the boy skeptically squints towards the man and chews his food slowly, “...what type of training?”

“sensitivity training. all this trash talk is-”

“oh my god, not again,” your head falls back as you groan, “i’ve changed, tony. i’ve learned to keep my unmannerly thoughts to myself every time i see someone wearing black socks with white shoes.”

“uh that’s definitely not true,” bucky cuts in, “just yesterday you called me out for wearing sandals.”

“exactly! sandals! who the hell still wears sandals, you look like you just got off the boat. i don't need to see your hairy toes,” you shudder in disgust.

“yea, mr. stark,” peter reverts his attention back to tony, “we don’t talk trash,” he shrugs.

“we talk smack,” you finish.

“okay… and how are those two any different,” the man challenges.

“well,” peter clears his throat, “trash talk is hypothetical. like, ‘your mom is so fat she can eat the internet.’”

“totally,” you eagerly nod your head in agreement, “but smack talk is happening, like, right now. like, ‘you’re ugly and i know it for a fact ’cause i got the evidence right there,” your hand motions in a circle to the person in front of you.

“are you calling me ugly?” thor sniffles.

“i don’t know what the hell you just said, and i don’t even wanna know,” tony wipes his mouth with a napkin, “but it’s happening. nine am sharp, do not be late. it’ll be quick and easy, not that hard. you’ll be in and out without the attitude.”

you pout as you and peter give each other a dismay look.

“that’s what she said.”

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kafus · 1 year ago

Text

OK my feelings on the pokemon presents

excited for BOTH animated side series they announced!! i love all the side animated content pokemon has been putting out recently i'm really excited for both the TCG thing and the paldea series i hope it's as good as twilight wings

i really need to play detective pikachu on 3ds before the new one comes out oopsies its like the only pokemon game i've never played but the sequel on switch looks charming even though it was very obviously meant to be a 3ds game that got stuck in dev hell and looks the part

as per usual don't give a single shit about all the mobile gacha garbage but it was nice to see nemona even though her english voice jumpscared me (used to her jp one in horizons)

in speaking of horizons very funny to be like pokemon horizons coming soon... as if i didn't already watch it in japanese. god the pokemon anime being on netflix sucks ass

disappointed about no announcement of a battle tower in the SV DLC... at this point im probably giving up hope. HOWEVER im very excited for the DLCs!!

unironically super excited for the fucking Selfie Stick and Room Customization and being able to change how i throw my pokeballs like YES GIVE ME MORE CUSTOMIZATION PELASE FOR THE LOVE OF G

the minigames with koraidon/miraidon look cute i hope they run okay

DIPPLIN AND WHATEVER THE NAME OF THE DURALADON EVOLUTION ARE SO GOOD HDSJKSFD

LONG RAIKOU (ALSO THE MECHA COBALION IS AWESOME)

hearing them refer to a pokemon as just. an ogre. like not an ogre pokemon. An Ogre. was really funny to me. ogres are canon to pokemon now

I WANT TO KNOW WHAT THE FUCKING DISC POKEMON IS AHHHHHHHH

i love all the new character designs in the second DLC especially!! the BB league looks cool

oh yeah and the mewtwo raids were leaked but im really excited about the mew event stuff because my ribbon master mew can get the mightiest mark!! i enjoyed the CG animation they played to announce it as well. cool theyre giving you something to do with ur mew instead of just taking it and putting it in a box forever

everything about worlds makes me jealous im not there but my friend is buying me the lapras/pikachu plush cause hes in japan rn xoxo yay

that about summarizes all of my feelings. i think

#pokemon presents #pokemon presents spoilers #pokemon spoilers #kiki was here #kiki.txt

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alex-is-vibing · 1 year ago

Note

Hey can you try mimicking each clone?

ME IS TRY. (OOC: It only knows to mimic those it's met.)

ME MIMIC VIBINGS.

Vibings is just a nice guy who sounds like this.

[The voice sounds like Vibings', though obviously somewhat off coming from vocal chords that are usually talking rather loudly. This is similar for all of the voices.]

ME MIMIC JUSTS. Justs is also a pretty nice guy... I guessss... Not that that matters anymore... But he's also pretty excited when he's complimenting his friends! [:

ME MIMIC UNJUST.

Unjust on the other hand is truly the mightiest and most incredibly clone there is besides maybe my incredible self! His power and sheer coolness of Ghostbusters merch is unrivaled! Perchance.

ME IS NOT MIMIC.

ME IS SORRY ME SAID WORD STARTS WITH P AGAIN. IT IS PART OF ME MIMIC UNJUST.

ME MIMIC NOSPACE.

nospaceisalsoprettynice.alsolikescatswhichisprettycool

ME MIMIC XELA.

..peels fo ytnelp steg ..gi looc …yako si )srotalsnart rof alex( xela

ME MIMIC VIBING-J.

:) nbd it's but hard quite works and nice pretty also is vibing-j ME MIMIC VILING. If you really wanted to help you'd be wanting this power to be used much more productively. Why aren't you helping people instead? ME MIMIC AL3X. .. / -.. --- -. .----. - / … . . / .-- …. -.-- / .-- . .----. .-. . / -.. --- .. -. --. / - …. .. … / -… ..- - / … ..- .-. . .-.-.- ME MIMIC VINING. □︎🙵♋︎⍓︎📬︎ [munches on popcorn] ME MIMIC NOT. ah shit this isn't enough time to do anything fun. ME MIMIC MEOWLEX. meow. [The differences in human vocal chords vs cats makes it impossible to translate.] (OOC: I'm not confident I know the rest of the clones well enough to have it mimic them. And sorry if I got one of the ones I was confident about wrong.)

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traveler-at-heart · 2 years ago

Text

Hey, Romanoff!

Requested by @nooneno - Avengers are heroes, but also celebrities. Natasha hates this, especially the paparazzi that follow the team around. Then, she meets you. Enemies to lovers.

Her day got off to a wrong start.

“Hey, Romanoff”

Natasha knows that voice.

She hates that voice.

“You’re looking good” you insist, snapping a couple of pictures as the redhead keeps walking away from you. “Come on, turn around, show off your new hairstyle”

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” she speaks, still not facing you.

“This is kind of my job, Natasha” you chuckle and she fights the urge to take your camera and throw it across the street.

Unfortunately, ever since Bucky broke one with his hands, all of the Avengers are on the spotlight.

Stupid paparazzi.

“Hey, these are good images. Ugh, except this one, you look like Ronald McDonald here”

“Excuse me?” the Russian stops, finally turning around.

“Gotcha” you say, finally getting an image of her face. You cackle when Natasha realizes what you’ve done.

Pleased with your pictures, you stop chasing after her. Your eyes linger on that last shot.

Natasha Romanoff may be a stuck up bitch, but she’s a very beautiful one.

“Have a nice day” you say and are met with the somewhat familiar view of her middle finger raised at you. “Beautiful! My editor’s gonna love this”

It’s just like every other day at the office. The rest of the team is sitting around at what your boss calls “the pit”.

“Morning, Tom-Tom” you greet, placing a latte in front of your coworker and friend. He smiles up at you and you ruffle his hair.

“Someone’s in a good mood. Did you spot your favorite celebrity?”

“Yeah, she got a haircut. It’s ridiculous how good she looks with anything” you take a seat next to him, sipping your hot cocoa.

“I’ll tell you what’s ridiculous; you won’t admit you have a crush on her, Flash”

“Shut it. I can’t believe that stupid nickname stuck around”

“You like that too” he teases and turns back to Eddie, making his typical entrance wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt.

“Morning, my despicable minions. Did you do your morning rounds? Who got the finger today?”

“I did!” you shout, proudly. “Romanoff”

“Holy shit, Flash! You win!”

“I know! It was awesome”

Eddie high fives you, because he loves to piss off Earth’s mightiest heroes. Something about his penthouse being destroyed during the battle of New York.

The rest of the meeting goes by as usual, commenting on the pictures and articles that will be going up in the following days. You’re the only girl in the team, but it’s actually nice and comfortable.

The guys go out of their way to take care of you, but it’s not like you need it. You’ve been out on your own since you can remember.

“Don’t forget that the Stark gala is two days from now. Tom and Andrew, you will be on duty”

“Actually…” Tom begins to speak but you interrupt him.

“I wanted to see if we can swap. You know, with Romanoff hating me and everything, I might get you some good pictures”

“Yeah, awesome. Whatever” Eddie says.

“What was that for? You know it’s my wife’s birthday” Tom nudges your side.

“Yeah and you know how weird he gets when people remind him you have lives outside of this shitty job. That way he won’t snap at you”

“Aw, it’s so nice you don’t have a life to piss him off”

“Don’t make me take back my offer, jerk”

Out of all the Avengers, Tony’s the nicest one to your lot. He always sticks around for a couple of pictures, making a cheeky comment and saying something silly as he walks away.

Steve is the nicest, obviously, but you can tell the attention makes him fidget. A polite smile is all you get before he goes inside Stark Tower.

Colonel Rhodes seems very pleased with the attention, but you roll your eyes. After taking pictures of some random people that insist they’re tabloid worthy -no, they’re not- Natasha finally arrives.

As usual, she ignores everyone.

“Hey, Romanoff” you wolf-whistle and she turns to you, a murder glare in her eyes. It’s all you need to get a decent photo, the rest of the people scrambling to get her attention.

“Nice” Andrew comments, looking over your shoulder. He’s the most experienced member of the team, and basically acts like your paparazzi-dad.

Less and less people walk through the main door and at this time, most photographers leave the place.

“You gonna stick around, kiddo?” Andrew checks as you sit by the back door.

“Yeah, maybe catch them smoking something crazy” you smile and he fist bumps you.

“Don’t stay too late, ok?”

“Yes, sir”

Your patience is rewarded fifteen minutes later, as Natasha walks out, a blonde woman following her.

“Romanoff” you shout again. The blonde turns around, smiling. You notice she’s younger than Natasha and when she speaks she has a thick Russian accent.

“Hi, there” she waves at you.

“Yelena, what the hell are you doing?” Natasha hisses, trying to drag the woman away from you.

“Greeting your friend, she called your name” the blonde explains, walking back to you.

“She’s not my friend, she’s with the tabloids”

“Like the paparazzi? That’s so cool. I want to pose” Yelena shows around her outfit and you go along, snapping a couple of pictures.

“Yeah, the camera loves you! You’re so much better than Natasha” the redhead growls at your words. “Hey, come on. I’m just complimenting your date, don’t get jealous”

“Oh, no” Yelena laughs. “She’s my sister, not my date”

“Stop telling her stuff, she’s gonna post it everywhere and people will know who you are”

“Wow, hey” you put the camera down, changing your demeanor. “I don’t want to risk her life. Here, I’ll delete the pictures. And I promise I won’t tell people you have a sister, ok?”

“No, I want to see the picturesss!” Yelena pleads, giving her sister some serious puppy eyes.

“Well, you could give me your number and I’ll send them to you?” you offer with a sly smile. You flirt your way out of every situation and to get exclusive information about the people you follow.

Why should this be any different now?

The blonde turns to her sister and speaks in Russian. Natasha rolls her eyes, but nods.

“Here” Yelena pulls a pen out of her coat, taking your arm and scribbling her number. “See you around…”

“Y/N or Flash, whatever you like”

“Flash” Yelena nods and winks at you.

For the first time since you’ve met her, Natasha looks back at you and she doesn’t seem annoyed at all.

That’s definitely new.

Days like these are your favorite. You’re sitting by your desk, next to the open window. It’s hard to explain, but the smell of the air reminds you of the rain; judging by the cloudy sky, it’s going to be pouring in a few hours.

You sip your cup of cocoa and sigh at the sweet taste of the drink.

“Ha, this one definitely goes to the folder” you drag an image, pleased with yourself.

The meme contest is coming up and you’re determined to win; you’ll give yourself an extra pat on the back if it’s with an image of Natasha doing a weird face or something.

So far, you have pictures from Barton, Tony Stark and some other celebrities that you find everytime you walk around the exclusive sites in New York City.

“One of Barnes, just for the fun of it” you mutter, browsing through your hard drive. Unfortunately, Bucky always looks the same -his face sporting a combination of a frown and a glare- so there’s not much you can do there.

Something else quickly catches your eye, though. You have pictures from Barnes in five different locations and every time, there’s a man following him. It’s hard to see his face, but he’s almost always taking pictures with a cheap camera.

“Huh” you sigh, saving all the pictures you can find of the mystery man in a separate folder. Then you go through every Avengers picture you have and the same thing happens.

Someone seems to be following them, acting as paparazzi to go unnoticed.

Or maybe you’re just paranoid.

Either way, you’d rather be safe than sorry. You grab the drive, knowing there’s a good chance Natasha won’t want to speak to you.

There’s even a better chance she’ll kick your ass.

It’s been two hours since you arrived at the SHIELD building. Apparently, you’re not even allowed to wait in the lobby without clearance so you’re forced to stand outside, your back to the wall and the front of your shirt soaked by the rain.

The rain is so dense you almost miss the two figures that leave a black car and run to one of the doors.

“Hey, wait” you run to them. Natasha stops so abruptly, you end up crashing against her back. “Go away”

“I need to speak to you”

“Flash! What’s wrong?” Yelena says, pushing you to the lobby. “You’re all wet, come in, before you get sick”

“What do you want?” Natasha eyes you curiously, noticing your soaked clothes.

“There’s something you need to see. Someone’s been following the Avengers”

“Yeah, right” she rolls her eyes.

“Please” you hand over the drive, not interested in arguing with her. The only thing you can do is warn her.

“Fine” she takes it and you nod, eager to go back to your place and take a shower.

“Wait! We’ll give you some dry clothes while we check this out. Then you’ll tell us everything you know”

“Ok” you sigh, relieved at the idea of getting warm again.

“Do you think she’s telling the truth?” Steve says, looking at the security camera as you wait around the interrogation room.

“I’m not sure. She doesn’t have any reason to lie about this. But she’s also extremely annoying”

“I’ve rarely seen you this annoyed at someone” Steve comments. “Why does she bother you so much?”

“Because she likes her” Yelena says behind them and Steve smiles, while Natasha turns to glare at her sister. “Oops, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. But come on, sestra, don’t be mad. You know it’s true”

“Let’s go, Rogers” Natasha rolls her eyes. As soon as she enters the room, your eyes meet hers and she quickly avoids your stare.

You take it as a sign that she’s still unhappy with your presence.

“Hi, Y/N” Steve greets you, sitting in front of you.

“Cap. Did you check the pictures? Am I crazy? Under arrest for wasting your time?”

“No, we think you’re right” Steve says. “You’re sure you’ve never seen any of the men in the pictures before?”

“Yes. I know everyone that works for the tabloids, even freelancers. The cameras they’re using seem super cheap; I doubt they’re getting decent images. It’s like… they’re props to play the part, if it makes sense?”

“We can’t do anything about it, though. It’s not illegal to be in the streets pretending to be photographing someone” Natasha speaks to no one in particular.

“Let’s run some of the images through facial recognition”

“I can keep an eye out. If I see them again, I’ll try to get better pictures and send them to you” you offer.

“No” Natasha interjects. Right, of course she’d never work with you. “If you see them again, call me”

“Oh, is that how you’re finally asking for my number?” you wiggle your eyebrows and she grumbles.

“I just don’t want you to do anything stupid. We have the upper hand and I’d like to keep it that way”

“Whatever you say, Romanoff”

Steve is trying to hide his smile at the exchange but you can see the amusement in his eyes.

By the time you get back to your apartment, all you want to do is sleep.

“Do not disturb” you complain when your phone pings.

Natasha: Remember to call me when you see them

Y/N: Who’s this?

Natasha: You’re not funny. And you left your drive here.

Y/N: Don’t open the meme folder.

Natasha: I’ll give you 20 dollars if you submit that last picture of Clint

Y/N: Deal

You smile at the screen of your phone. Who knew that Romanoff had it in her to be a joker.

You keep an eye out, but the team seems to be limiting their public outings while they figure out who’s watching them. Instead of going after the Avengers, you spend a couple of afternoons at the set of an upcoming show to “leak” the pictures and make the fans curious about the show.

Then, a quick tour around 30 Rock to photograph the stars arriving at the various talk shows hosted in the building.

When you finally get home, you heat some leftovers and wait for the microwave to ping while you stare out the window.

“Holy shit!” you launch yourself to the floor, crawling to your room. Without missing a beat, you pull out the camera and start taking pictures of a group of men, carrying something in a warehouse that’s been abandoned since you moved here.

They are the same men that have been following the Avengers.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up” you mutter with urgency as you try to reach Natasha.

“Where are you?”

“My place”

“Then why are you calling me?”

“Oh, I just wanted to hear your voice, Romanoff. Come on! I can see them from my window, they’re carrying something inside a warehouse”

“Send me the coordinates”

“Do I look like Google Maps, Natasha?”

“You know what I mean”

“Then ask for the address like a normal person”

“Shut up”

She hangs up and you keep peering out the window. You knew this place was a shithole but if it’s being used to hide criminals you really gotta move.

“Where are they?” Natasha walks past you, looking out the window. Most of the men are gone now, but there’s still a black USV outside. “License plates”

“Yeah” you grab your camera, trying to adjust the settings in the dark. You barely manage to take a picture before they drive away.

“I’m gonna need to use your computer to send this to Steve” she looks around and for the first time, you’re aware that Natasha Romanoff, the woman you antagonize almost on a daily basis, is standing in the middle of your apartment.

She looks a little out of place, but it’s not an unpleasant sight.

“What?” she snaps when you stare but the moment is gone, so you roll your eyes and point at her shoes.

“Mud. All over my floor”

“Sorry, I wasn’t aware you live in Buckingham Palace, princess”

“Just take the memory card and go”

“I’m not leaving” Natasha shakes her head, walking back to the kitchen.

“Excuse me?” you follow her around, whisper yelling, scared that the bad guys have super hearing.

“They could be back at any minute” she explains and you roll your eyes.

“Then I’ll send you pictures”

“You’re a civilian”

“And you’re a pain in the ass”

“It’s not up for discussion, Y/N'' she says and you know there’s really no point in arguing with her. So you cross your arms in front of you, anxious at the idea of spending hours alone with a woman that hates your guts.

“Here’s the computer. I’m taking a shower” you finally concede, walking away.

“Good, you stink” Natasha says, opening your laptop and only God knows how she manages to get your password on the first try.

“You’re such an ass”

By the time you’re done with your very long, very cold shower, you’ve lost your appetite, so you get a twinkie and walk back to your room. Natasha is sitting by the window, at an angle where she can see everything that happens on the street without getting caught.

“Nothing?” you say, your mouth full of bread.

“You’re going to rot your insides if you keep eating that”

“Come on, don’t knock it till you try it” you lean forward, offering the last bite of the twinkie. Natasha actually opens her mouth and lets you feed her. There’s something hypnotic about the way she holds your stare.

“It’s gross” she protests.

“Spitters are quitters”

You can allow a lot of things, but she absolutely will not waste the last bite of a twinkie, which is arguably the best.

“You’re even more gross”

“Sing it” you agree, leaning back in your bed. “You’re gonna sit there all night?”

“That’s what one does in a stake out”

“Ok, I’ll take the next shift. Wake me up when it’s my turn” you rest on your side. Natasha is amazed at how quickly you fall asleep, completely unfazed by her presence.

You’re either incredibly stupid, or you trust her completely.

She kinda wishes it’s the latter.

But a second later, you laugh in your sleep and mutter.

“I’m the Twin-Kween”

So, maybe you’re just really dumb.

It’s 4 AM when you stirr awake. Miss I-can-do-this-all-night is all but snoring in her chair by the window.

“Hey, get some sleep” you guide her to the bed and to your surprise, Natasha barely resists.

“Your coffee sucks”

“It’s decaf. Now, rest. I’ll let you know if anything happens”

Of course, it’s all quiet and as the sun rises, it’s even less likely that the criminals across the street will do anything too suspicious.

The view from the kitchen window is decent enough, so you start cooking breakfast for two. Pancakes and bacon will have to do for today.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” you grimace as Natasha walks out of the room, her nose scrunching up adorably as she yawns.

Wait, no. It’s just a yawn. Nothing cute about it. Stop.

“It’s ok. I’m a light sleeper”

“Well, then. Breakfast will be ready soon” you promise.

“I don’t suppose you have a very strong cup of coffee”

“Sorry, it makes me all jittery. I can go get you some. Or offer you orange juice”

“Juice is fine, thanks” she looks around. “This smells great”

“What, no fancy chef at your fancy tower?” you flip a pancake and serve two in a plate. After setting some bacon on the side, you stretch your arm towards her. She looks like she’s about to say something else, but an incoming facetime call interrupts her.

“Ana Banana” you greet, leaning your phone against the sink. A child screams on the other side, and you quickly realize Ana’s phone is held hostage by her children. “Hey, bug, put mama on the line, will ya?”

“Children, stop it” she says, finally snatching the phone. “Hey, sis”

“Another manic day?”

“Yeah, you could say that. You ok? How’s your shitty job?”

“Same as usual” you shrug your shoulders, aware that Natasha is listening to everything.

“Well, I guess it’s not so bad if you get to see your celebrity crush, right?”

Well, shit.

You almost knock the pan as you try to hide your blush.

“Ana, you can’t say stuff like that. They’re super paranoid and probably listening to this. I mean, my phone is probably bugged or some shit”

Natasha is smirking.

“Is your boss still a jerk, though?”

“Is the Pope Catholic?”

“Fair enough”

“Listen, I got like a million errands. But is Jack ok? You need anything?”

“He’s getting better. Doctor Ray is a lot more optimistic after the last surgery. That check you sent really helped get the insurance off our backs. Thank you”

“Thank the hot redhead that gives me the finger every other day. That’s why I still have a job” you say, uncomfortable with Ana’s emotional speech. Natasha chuckles.

“Well, if I ever meet her, I’ll tell her she better be nice to my sister” a crash and some loud cry interrupt her.

“Go” you wave goodbye and the call ends.

Now you regret it, because there’s a silence hanging in the air as you finish with your pancakes.

“Sisters can be a pain” Natasha spares you the embarrassment and you nod.

“Yeah. I mean, we’re not sisters. We grew up together in a foster home, but still. She’s the closest thing I have to family, I guess”

“I’m sorry” you shrug your shoulders and keep eating, hoping she won’t ask anything else. But of course, it’s in her nature to know more. “Is your boss really an asshole?”

“Depends on the day. Most times he’s chill. And he likes my work, so I’m rarely in his path. But I do hate how he’s with the rest of the team. They’re nice people, even when you all hate our kind”

“That’s not exactly fair” her voice softens and your defenses immediately drop.

“Listen, I do it for the money. I was working as a freelance for a magazine, but then Ana’s kid got sick and I felt like I could do more, help her out and her husband. If I get to piss you off, that’s just a bonus”

“Jerk” Natasha says, but her tone lacks any malice.

It’s nice to talk to someone. You’ve never told anyone all of this. There’s a certain peace, knowing someone can understand your life hasn’t always been easy.

Eddie calls a minute later, ruining your mood.

“Where are they?” he barks and you don’t need to put him on speaker for Natasha to hear.

“Who?”

“Who, who? What are you? A fucking owl? The fucking Avengers, Flash! We haven’t posted anything about them in almost a week”

“They might be on a mission, you know that, Eddie”

“I only keep you around because you give me good content. Get off your fucking ass and find me something, hot stuff”

“Lovely” you say as he hangs up and Natasha stands up, kicking the chair. “What?”

“I’m gonna kill him”

“Hey, wow, slow down. He’s all talk and definitely not worth it”

“I’d still like to kill him”

“If it makes you feel better, you kind of destroyed his penthouse in the battle of New York”

Natasha ponders for a second, clearly unsatisfied.

“Let me make a call. I think I can get him off your back”

“Are you calling to have him killed?” you say nervously, but she walks away with a mischievous glint in her green eyes.

The girl’s got some serious power, because an hour later you meet with the Winter Soldier and snap some “candid” pictures of him working out.

It’s a bit scary and he looks bored most of the time but when you tell him that’s enough and he can go, he actually smiles.

“Oh, tell Romanoff that if she’s done playing house, we might have a lead”

“I will” you blush as he gives you a once over and walks away.

Eddie is giddy like a schoolgirl the minute you step into his office.

“What do you think it’s a good headline?”

“How about Winter just got hot - Barnes shows off his muscles in outdoor workout”

“You’re a genius!”

His moodswing practically gives you whiplash. This morning he was ready to kick your ass to the curb. But, since Natasha gave you enough to keep him off your back, you leave the office early and stop by the grocery store.

“I’m home” you announce.

That’s weird. You’ve never lived with anyone, so you never speak when you get to your apartment.

But there she is. Smiling.

“Uh… hi. I thought we could have some pasta tonight” you busy yourself with the things you need, keeping those weird thoughts away.

“Did Barnes behave?” she asks in a tone that makes it very clear the Winter Soldier will get his ass kicked if Natasha doesn’t like the answer.

“He was really nice. Insisted I call him Bucky and all”

“Well, he’s single, in case you’re interested”

Natasha seems actually… disappointed with the idea? You gotta eat something fast, because at this point you’re delusional.

“Cheer up” you get close to her, your fingers tilting her head up. “You’re about to have the best meal of your life”

“Am I?” she holds your stare and all you can do is nod. The redhead is nice enough to offer to help, but you honestly don’t know how to cook with someone all over your kitchen, so she goes back to spying on the criminals.

“Food’s ready!”

“Smells good”

“Told ya” you pour two glasses of wine and mentally pat yourself in the back, because the pasta tastes delicious.

“Where did you learn to cook like that?”

“Before I was a professional stalker, I worked at a family restaurant. The Nonna taught me how to cook. Why? Want some lessons?”

“I can hold my own”

“I’ll have to find out sometime, won’t I?” you snort as you remember Bucky’s words. “Oh, by the way, Barnes said you’re playing house and that they have a lead”

“He’s an ass and I already spoke to Steve. Seems like a group with biochemical weapons” she says it so casually while you almost choke on your fork full of pasta.

There are criminals with biohazard material across from your place.

“I really gotta move out” you mumble, annoyed. Stupid gentrification and crime.

“What’s with all the dog pictures?” she interrupts the silence after a beat.

“What’s with snooping around in my files?” you snark back and she actually looks embarrassed.

“Maybe you should password protect them”

“Would that have stopped you?”

“No”

You both laugh at that. After taking a sip of wine, you answer her. Why not? If she wants to know, you’ll tell her. Setting your fork down, you look at Natasha and speak.

“I’d love to be a pet photographer. Like, professional, holy crap, that dog is the cutest shit you’ve ever seen kind of thing”

“Ok. What’s with the stare?”

“Waiting for you to laugh at me”

“I won’t. It’s kind of cute”

“Thanks”

Thanks? What are you, twelve?

“I would have liked to be a ballet teacher” Natasha blurts out and you beam. Yeah, you could totally see it, especially with how graceful and beautiful she is.

“So, if you saw all those dog pics you also saw that picture, right?”

It’s probably the best picture you’ve ever taken and it happened by complete accident. During an afternoon walk, you spotted Natasha. Her hair was down, except for a small braid to the side. She was wearing a yellow cardigan and black pants.

As she approached the cafe, a little girl pointed excitedly at her. Next thing you knew, the redhead kneeled to speak to the child, who was wearing a Black Widow shirt. That’s why she was so happy, she was meeting her hero.

“Why didn’t you publish it?”

“I’d like the world to see it. See how important you are to little girls that want to save the world. But not from some tabloid that posts clickbait. You know?”

Natasha stares at you, but doesn’t speak, and neither do you. There’s something she’s trying to understand, and she’s the only one that can get there. So you let her be.

Until her phone rings and she excuses herself.

Barnes is right, you’re playing house with an Avenger and it’s ridiculous. Once Natasha leaves and goes back to hating you, the fall is gonna hurt like a motherfucker.

“I’ll be right back” Natasha walks out in a rush, going for the door.

“Wow, hey, where are you going?”

“Stark disabled their cameras and they’re distracting them. I have a couple of minutes to break in”

“I’m coming with you”

“Absolutely not” she halts and you almost crash against her.

“You’re not going alone, Natasha” you sprint past her, going down the steps at full speed.

“How are you so fast?” she says, going after you.

“I have to chase super soldiers for a living, remember?”

“Here” Natasha pushes you to the side, picking the lock and opening the door to the warehouse. “I’ll look around. Take some pictures and make sure no one’s coming”

You nod, pulling out your phone. There are vials with some red liquid and a lot of guns. Your hand trembles as you browse through some folders and manage to photograph the files. There’s one with Natasha’s name on it, so you scan through the words, trying to remember as much as you can.

“We gotta go” the redhead drags you away, going through a side door.

“Wait, Nat, we have to go back. There’s a file with your name on it”

“It’s ok, they’ll be here any minute”

You cross the street and as you’re reaching the entrance of your building, the black SUV pulls up.

“Shit” Natasha hisses, holding on tighter to your hand. It’s clear you won’t make it inside without being spotted.

“Do you trust me?” you ask, pulling Natasha back to you. She doesn’t have time to answer, as you press your lips against hers. You make sure her back is to the street, so the men only see your face.

They linger for a minute or two, so Natasha’s mouth stays on yours and at some time, one of you deepens the kiss. Your hands rake through her hair and she sighs against your lips.

“I…” you stutter when she pulls apart, certain that you’re about to pass out.

“Come on, let’s get inside”

To your surprise, Iron Man and Captain America are waiting in your kitchen.

“Do you people ever knock?” you feel irritated at the intrusion, secretly hoping it would be just you and Natasha, to talk about whatever the hell that was.

Unless there’s nothing to talk about.

“Here” Natasha hands Stark one of the vials. “I think I know what it is. Chemical subjugation”

“But mass produced” Steve completes.

“We think they were following us to see who would be more vulnerable” Tony completes. “They’ll probably want to control us to hurt people”

“Turn the public against you” it finally clicks, and you look at Natasha. She reaches for your hand, a comforting touch. “Are they going after you?”

“Maybe. It is something out of the Red Room, after all” you shudder, looking down. “Hey, it’s fine. I’ll be fine”

“We have an idea. But we’ll need your help” Steve looks at you.

“Like hell” Natasha stands in front of you.

“Let him speak at least” you nudge her and she sighs. Tony and Steve share an amused look before going to you.

“We have enough to go seize the place, but we’d like to set up a little trap in case one of them escapes. Romanoff is the bait” Tony explains.

“Bait? Seriously? And you’re ok with this?” you turn to Natasha and she shrugs her shoulders.

“That’s the job. If we don’t stop them now, they’ll hurt a lot of people”

“So, what am I supposed to do?” you cross your arms, anxious.

“Natasha will be out on the street, nothing too big because we don’t want people getting hurt. You can be there and be her eyes; if you see someone suspicious, she’ll take care of it”

“Ok” you say.

“You don’t have to” Natasha steps forward.

“Yes, I do” you squeeze her hand and smile.

“Well, unless you want to gaze into each other’s eyes all night, we have some planning to do” Stark interrupts.

“I’ll see you tomorrow” Natasha hangs by the door a second later and you nod.

As she leaves your apartment, you’re scared about how lonely it feels without her.

“You’re being too obvious” a raspy voice says to your ear. It’s like she’s standing right next to you.

“I’m not” you grumble, fidgeting with the comm stuck to your ear.

“It’s ok. It will be over soon” Natasha promises through the ear piece.

And then what? You’ll go back to chasing her on the streets, saying dumb shit just to piss her off?

God, that’s so depressing.

“I’m on my way to the door” Natasha’s warning snaps you back to the present, so you walk to the entrance of the building and act as if it’s just another day following an Avenger.

“Hey, Romanoff!” you shout, but this time she turns around, smiling at you.

Fuck, she’s beautiful.

Double fuck, you’re in love with her.

“Did you do anything fun these past few days? The public missed you” you say, snapping a couple of pictures. More people join, calling for her and she looks around, trying to figure out if they pose a threat.

“They’re all good” you say in a low voice, confirming you recognise them. Natasha nods almost imperceptibly and keeps walking.

“Take some pictures, Y/N” she reminds you, so you lift the camera and look through the viewfinder. Just as she’s about to reach the crosswalk, you see the black SUV driving down the road.

“Shit. Everyone down, come on, walk away!” you warn the crowd, only a handful of them reacting in time. Natasha is focused on pushing them off the street, her back to the criminals racing to get her.

“Natasha!” you run to her, pushing her to the side as a man opens the passenger door, a gun in hand.

The only thing you remember is pushing her, then a blast and screams.

“Shit, Steve, Sam! I need back up here” Natasha requests, kneeling next to you. As you turn around, you find a pool of blood, coming out of your stomach.

“Well, that’s gonna leave a stain”

“Shit” Natasha drags you to the alley. Sam Wilson flies and lands in front of you, shielding you with his suit. “You idiot, why did you do that?”

“Come on Tasha, it’s not like anybody is going to miss me. You save the world every day” you land on your back, vaguely aware that you’re dying.

“Your sister…”

“Ana has like fifty kids. She’ll be fine” you laugh, but then start coughing, feeling the taste of blood in your mouth. “Shit, that can’t be good, huh?”

“Shh, try to stay calm, help is coming” she pleads, one of her hands applying pressure to your wound and the other caressing your cheek.

“It’s ok, I’m not scared. You’re right here with me”

“I’m not leaving. And hey, don’t tell anyone, but I think I’d really miss you too” she tries to smile and you chuckle.

“Liar”

Your eyes are closing.

“You can be annoying and all, but I really think I would. So please, please stay with me?” her voice is breaking. You don’t want to make Natasha sad.

She deserves to be happy.

“I always thought your eyes were so beautiful. I’m really glad they’re the last thing…”

“No, no, please, stay awake”

But you can’t do as she asks.

If this is heaven, then the whole idea is a rip off. As you open your eyes, there’s an IV stuck to your arm, a blinding light and a pressure on your side.

“Hey, Romanoff” you say as your eyes adjust to the light. The woman is asleep next to your bed, her hand resting on yours.

“You’re up” she smiles and you nod.

“I’m awake. I wouldn’t say I’m up just yet” you try to take a deep breath but it hurts. “Ouch. How long was I out?”

“20 hours, give or take. You’re on a lot of painkillers right now”

“Got anything stronger? Like death?” you mumble.

“Don’t joke with that” she asks, helping you up.

“Are you ok, though?” your thumb runs across her temple, where she’s sporting a little bruise.

“Just scared that you’d die on me” she leans against your touch.

“Yeah, but if you think about it, no paparazzi would ever follow you again. They’d be too scared to go next”

“I don’t want us to go back to that”

“Good thing I’m quitting, then” you smile and her eyes widen.

“Really?”

“I thought about it before, but this is all the proof I need that I want to do something I actually like”

“I support that one hundred percent” Natasha leans her forehead against yours.

“You’re gonna miss me, Romanoff?”

“Not one bit” she doesn’t give you time to feel hurt, as she leans forward and captures your lips in a tender kiss. “Because I plan on taking you out and being around for a long time. If you’ll have me”

“Yes, I’ll have all of you, Nat” you smile against her lips.

“Hey, Romanoff”

Natasha knows that voice. It’s from the person she loves most.

The redhead turns around, and sees you carrying two cones of ice cream. You hand over one and she kisses your cheek.

“Picture time” you announce, pulling out your phone to get a selfie. “Looking good”

You lean forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that tastes like chocolate.

Now she likes it when you take pictures of her, because they’re moments she wants to keep forever.

#Natasha Romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff x you

872 notes · View notes

oreosmilkshakes · 3 years ago

Text

Only Love Can Hurt Like This

Summary: Relive your last moments with Stephen Pairing: Supreme!Stephen Strange x fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,496

Warnings: (Slight, I think) Spoilers for DSMoM! Sadness, Angst, no happy ending

A/N: Well, whew. This was another ride to write. Hope y'all enjoy! Comments/feedback well appreciated! (also, I had this idea listening to Vegas (I wanna ride) and not the song title-) Tho I kinda feel like the ending was rushed?? Idk ;-;

Taglist: NIL

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(Gif credited to TikTok user: @ randomlangme)

Only love can hurt like this

[Name] sobbed into her pillow, the feeling of a broken heart plagued her chest. Her never-ending tears stained her cheeks as she cried every single day and night. What did she do to deserve this? All of this? All she felt was pain, misery and sadness every day. Even forcing herself to eat just to keep her and her baby alive. She tried telling herself to be strong everyday but nothing worse. Not even the words of Charles Xavier could save her from this torment.

She felt the ground shake and she knew exactly who was causing the problem. Her husband and resident Sorcerer Supreme, Doctor Stephen Strange. There was a war between Earth’s Mightiest Heroes and Thanos’s army. Even if the battle was far away, she could hear the aftermath of the fight. Everyone could.

[Name] gave one final sob into her pillow before wiping her tears with a handkerchief that once belonged to Stephen. The beeping of the heart monitor was the only thing that was capable of calming her. An irony, right?

The door swung open and Christine stepped in. She wore a soft but sad smile upon seeing the visible tears decorating prettily on [Name]’s cheeks. In her hand was a pad.

“How are you doing, [Name]?” Her voice soft, careful to not cause any agitation to the pregnant woman.

[Name] sniffled, dapping her cheeks. She forced a sad smile and it broke Christine’s heart.

“I’m alright, Chris..Tired but alright,”

Christine obviously didn’t believe her. How could see when the cause of all her misery was her former lover. She set her pad down on the table, moving over to take [Name]’s hand. She took it and the grip was enough to tell Christine that nothing about her friend was ‘alright’. The doctor stayed still as the soon-to-be mother sought comfort in her touch.

“Doctor Palmer to ward 23,” Came a voice over the PA and [Name] let go of Christine’s hand. It broke her even more.

“I’m sorry, [Name]..I have to go,”

She smiled, shaking her head.

“You’re needed, Christine. Go, I’ll be alright,”

Christine pursed her lips in a thin line, fetching her pad from the table and nodded.

“I’ll be back,” She turned, leaving [Name] alone once more.

[Name]’s eyes fluttered close as a wave of exhaustion took over her body. As she fell asleep, she found herself reminiscing about the good times she had spent with Stephen. Before it all went down.

[Name] met Stephen Strange seven years ago when she was a trainee nurse at the hospital he worked at. Occasionally, she was paired up with Stephen to watch as he did procedures, watching and learning his technique and style. Eventually, her feelings for the Doctor grew past trainer-trainee and the explosive happiness she felt when Stephen reciprocated the feeling was something she could not forget. Shortly after that, Stephen had brought her out for dinner and a calming walk in the park.

Even after his accident, [Name] stayed with Stephen. He pushed her away, yes but she was not going to give up on him just as he had given up on himself. She watched him meet this supposed being called The Ancient One. He trained himself, fought hard to become the man he wanted to be- a Sorcerer to protect the world and existing realms.

Stephen proposed to [Name] atop the Empire State, where it overlooked the gorgeous city they called home. Of course, she said yes. She loved Stephen and Stephen loved her very much. Their wedding was a small one with close friends and family invited, Wong and members of the Illuminati too.

Since then, [Name] couldn't stop staring at her wedding ring.

"Vibranium. I had to call T'Challa in for a favour," Stephen said, taking her hand in his. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her hand.

“It’s beautiful, Stephen. I can’t stop staring at it,” [Name] giggled, moving her hands to cup Stephen’s smooth jaw. Her thumb gently caress his cheek. His hands found her hips, pulling her as close as he impossibly could.

“I love you so much,”

“I love you too, in this universe and every,”

Their next step in their journey was their honeymoon. Stephen had planned everything out much to [Name]’s delight. Of course he was worried about leaving Manhattan unprotected but Charles was there to assure him. “The world can live one month without the Sorcerer Supreme, Stephen. Go spend some time with your wife,” Charles said and that was enough for Stephen

Whatever problem [Name] in her life seemingly had disappeared during their honeymoon and Stephen never stopped pampering her, even spending each night in the throes of pleasure. She was finally feeling all of Stephen, mind, soul and body and that made her fall for him even more.

She found herself to be sick on the fourth and last week of their honeymoon and Stephen knew it was good news. She did at least seven tests and when the last one finalised her pregnancy, the couple shared a tight hug with tears in their eyes.

All was going well. [Name] had finally found the man she loved and her life was the best she ever had.

Until Stephen started having nightmares shortly after their return from their honeymoon. He would wake up screaming and covered in cold sweat, going on and on about a Mad Titan who was coming to invade the world.

“It’s just a nightmare, Stephen. Go back to sleep,”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand, [Name]! It’s real. He’s coming!” Stephen ran a hand through his hair, bare chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“Who’s coming, Stephen?”

Stephen turned to her, looking right at her dead in the eyes and with an expression she has never seen before.

“Thanos,”

--------------------------------------------

Stephen’s well being deteriorated every single day. He was becoming mad and driven to find ways to stop his supposed nightmare from happening. He spent sleepless nights for months going through books within the Sanctorum.

He grew further from [Name], pushing her away as if she didn’t exist to him.

As months passed, her belly was growing bigger and by the fifth month of her pregnancy, she had had enough.

“Stephen!” She screamed, her voice travelled through the vast halls of the Sanctorum. It was quiet, almost too quiet. She swallowed, a hand on her belly and another on the railing as she made her way up the flight of stairs.

“Stephen!” She screamed out again and once again, silence responded.

[Name] made her way to an intersection within the Sanctorum, bright red light emitted through the door from the room at the end of the hall. She felt a trickle of sweat on her temple and wiped it off, creeping towards it.

“Stephen? Baby? Come on..,” She licked her lips, touching the door. She felt a soft heat coming from the door. Her hand moved down to the knob, opening it slowly. It creaked quietly and as the scene revealed before her, she felt her heart break.

Stephen was afloat, red orbs with strings looking akin to veins surrounded her husband. Before him was a book, one she has never seen before but she recognised the corrupted magic. [Name] covered her mouth, tears pricked her eyes as she watched her husband succumb himself to such darkness.

Stephen opened his eyes, to find his wife in horror staring at him. He waved his hand, the magic disappearing and he brought himself back down on his two feet.

“Honey..Hey..come here..,” He held his arms out.

[Name] was frozen.

“S-Stephen..are you using…Chaos Magic? Stephen, please..stop this. Stop all of this! It’s just a nightmare, Stephen! Everyday, I don’t see you! Everynight, the bed is cold! All you do is..is..,” Her voice cracked, a hand moved to her belly again as her legs gave way. She was just so tired of everything.

“[Name]!” Stephen ran to her, dropping to his knees and held his crying wife.

“Oh, baby..Shh..Shh..,” He had his arms tightly around her, bringing her head to his chest as she cried.

[Name] felt her husband on her again and she couldn’t help but melt into his touch, gripping Stephen’s blue robes tightly as she sobbed. She pulled away first, wiping her tears with the back of her sleeves. Her hands cupped his cheeks, the same way she would always do.

“Stephen..please..stop all this..Please, I’m begging you..I need you, Stephen. I need you..Our baby needs you..Stop doing this magic, Stephen..The consequences..God, I can’t even think about it,” She sobbed out. Stephen swallowed, holding his gaze into [Name]’s brown eyes. He was doing all of this for her. To save her from this impending doom. He wanted what’s best for his wife and their baby and he would do anything to get it.

Stephen’s lips spread into a small smile, leaning in to rest his forehead against [Name]’s.

“I’ll do it..I’ll stop for you..I love you so much, in this universe and every,”

“I love you too,”

The couple shared a deep kiss, one filled with so much love yet sadness and pain lingered.

Must have been a deadly kiss

Humans are natural born liars and [Name] knew Stephen wouldn’t be able to keep true to his words. Sure, sweet kisses were shared and he was finally being the husband he was supposed to be five months ago but the longer he kept this up, the more lies she saw.

“I’m going for a walk, [Name]. Be right back!”

“There’s an emergency and the others need me. I’m sorry, I love you,” became very common excuses for the next three months. [Name] was surprised no one questioned Stephen’s usage of gloves when he has never worn them. Eventually, she has had enough. [Name] told the truth to the members of the Illuminati, Mordo included and Mordo confirmed her words, claiming there was a drastic shift in Stephen in general. He had to be stopped. He was becoming a slave to the Darkhold.

So, when they went to confront Stephen in the Sanctorum, he felt betrayed knowing his wife was the one who confided in his own team. But he loved her too much to feel completely betrayed. A part of him thought it was a good idea she did it but his darker part objected.

Christine kept [Name] safe with the Ultron bots as her guards. They didn’t hear word from Professor X for hours and [Name] had to see for herself.

Imagine the horror she felt upon returning home. Black Bolt, Richard, Maria, Peggy and Charles were all incapacitated and Stephen was no where to be found. Karl Mordo was the first to recover, a hand to his hurting abdomen. [Name] felt tears flow as she approached Karl.

“What happened?”

He coughed.

“He’s succumbed to the book, [Name]. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,”

[Name] heard several heavy footsteps approaching, Christine and the bots had arrived on time to assist with the members of the Illuminati.

“Where is he? Karl, where is he?”

Mordo straightened up, a gentle hand on [Name]’s shoulder.

“I don’t know, I’m sor-,”

The ground shook violently and almost sent [Name] tumbling to the floor.

Charles and the others slowly came to be, all seemingly unharmed.

“Charles? Are you okay?” [Name] rushed over to the professor, a hand on his chair as she examined the cut on his forehead. He raised a hand up, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m alright, dear. He is more powerful that I had expected,”

“Where is he, Charles? Please, I need to know where-,”

Another violent shake, [Name] braced herself on Charles’s chair.

“What's going on?” Peggy asked and Christine was furiously scrolling through her pad.

“It’s as we feared. Remember our theory about Incursions? I think it’s not just a theory. It’s very much true and it’s happening,”

[Name] was confused, turning to Christine.

“What’s an Incursion?”

Mordo stepped forward, healing himself with a simple wave of his hand.

“An Incursion is when two realities are in a collision race. Stephen has been using the Darkhold for so long, using them to Dreamwalk between realities. He told you about the Mad Titan Thanos’ arrival, yes? It’s all true, [Name]. Strange used the Darkhold to Dreamwalk through multiple realities just to see if there was a possible way to kill Thanos. It’s only a matter of time until he arrives with his army,”

It was a lot to take in. [Name] was approaching her ninth month. She stumbled forward, Peggy caught her just in time. Her breathing was shortening, head growing more and more dizzy the more she forced herself to stay awake. She passed out in Peggy’s arms.

She couldn’t process everything. The world was at war, along with the Incursion happening. She felt so sick and shaken to the core.

It was never supposed to be this way.

Their love was never supposed to be this way.

But it’s the sweetest pain

Burning hot through my veins

Love is torture

Makes me more sure

[Name]’s eyes fluttered open, back to her painful reality. She held her abdomen, squeezing her eyes shut at the sharp pain. Water ran down her legs and she knew it was time.

She screamed in pain as another wave of pain washed over her. Nurses ran into her room, doing immediate checks on the woman.

Christine ran in shortly after.

“It’s time, Doctor Palmer,”

“Alright, people. Let’s prep the room!”

[Name] screamed again. It hurts everywhere. She wished Stephen was here for her, to be there for her while she brought their beautiful baby into this messed up world.

It felt like forever but when the wailings of a baby filled the room, [Name] felt more tears running down her cheeks, both of happiness and of sorrow. The doctor held up her crying baby, giving her a good clean before wrapping her up with a soft, white blanket. [Name] sniffled, reaching out for her baby and when she felt her little girl in her arms, more and more tears flowed. She looked up, Christine’s eyes were glossy as well.

“What’s her name?” Christine asked.

“Stefanie…Stefanie Faye Strange,” [Name] smiled, leaning down to plant a kiss on Stefanie's head. Her mind drifted to a distant memory.

“If we had a boy, we would name him after you. Vincent Alexander Strange. If we had a girl, Stefanie Faye Strange,”

Stephan laughed, leaning in. His lips brushed [Name]’s forehead in a light kiss.

“I like it. Anything for my dear, pregnant wife,”

She gave him a playful shove on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her torso, resting his forehead on her head as they watched the distant sun set from the roof of the Santorum.

Hours turned to days and days turned into a month and [Name] felt happiness with Stefanie. She reminded her so much of Stephan. From her eyes to her nose, everything.

The war was over.. The Incursion had killed billions now and it took a lot of strength and power to just bring it to a stop. When it did, trillions had died and their deaths were on Stephan’s shoulders.

Christine burst into [Name]’s room, panting.

“It’s over..It’s over,”

[Name] gasped, eyes wide as she felt hope. Hope in which she could see Stephen again.

“I want to see him,”

Christine frowned.

“[Name], I’m not sure-,”

“Christine..please.. I want to see him,”

The Doctor inhaled deeply, sighing before nodding. She could not do this to her friend.

After all, it would be the last time she would see Stephen.

Christine had brought Karl in as fast as she could..

[Name] held Stefanie in her arms, the baby was soundly asleep. She turned to Karl, swallowing.

“[Name], I strongly go against your decision-,”

Christine gave him a look and he closed his mouth. He sighed heavily, swallowing. With both hands raised in, he moved a hand in a circular motion to open a portal.

As it widened, [Name] could see the aftermath of everything. Bodies of alien beings strewn around, lifeless along with heroes that had died in the middle of battle. She stepped through, looking back to see Karl and Christine with saddened looks on their faces.

Why were they sad? [Name] didn’t understand why. The war had stopped, the Incursion had stopped and Stephen was hopefully out of the Book’s hold. Shouldn’t it be a happy occasion despite their losses?

[Name] turned ahead, seeing four figures and Charles in the distance. There was a figure on his knees and she knew who it was.

[Name] gasped, tears pooled in the corner of her eyes again as she rushed over to the group.

“Stephen!” She yelled.

Four heads turned in her direction and Stephen was staring at her.

“[Name]..[Name]!” He stood, running towards her. Maria stepped forward to try and stop Stephen but was stopped by Charles.

Stephen stopped short of her, his expression broken and face bloodied. That’s when he noticed a little wrapped bundle in her arms. His eyes heated up, tears flowed as he fell to his knees. [Name] kneeled in front of him, careful of little Stefanie as she pulled Stephen in for a hug. She cried on his shoulder and so did he, pain and sorrow released as they cried together.

When Stephen pulled away, his shaking hands gently cradled Stefanie’s head.

“I’m sorry..I’m so, so sorry..I cannot take back what I did, [Name]. I’m so, so sorry,” Stephen’s voice cracked as he looked back up, capturing [Name]’s lips in a deep kiss. She returned in and it felt like home once again.

“Meet our baby girl, Stephen. Meet Stefanie Faye Strange,”

[Name] tilted her arms slightly, showing the baby to her husband and she heard him audibly gasp.

“She looks so much like you, Stephen..I-I..God, I miss you so much,”

Stephen cracked a small smile.

“I miss you too, honey. So, so much,”

Stefanie wriggled lightly, opening her eyes to reveal the exact same blue as his own. He felt his heart crack as the baby studied her father.

“Stefanie, say hi to daddy,” [Name] cooed softly. Stephen brought a black finger to the baby, she grabbed it almost immediately. He let out a soft sob, leaning into plant a soft kiss to Stefanie’s forehead.

“I love you two so much.. What I did, I thought it was the right thing to do. I wanted to save you, to save our baby from danger. I went too far and the deaths of many rest on my shoulders. I have to pay the price, baby,” Stephen swallowed the lump in his throat. [Name] shook her head.

“You’ve already paid it. Just come home to me, to Stefanie. Please.. I can’t live without you. Stephen, please..,” [Name] pleaded, cupping Stephen’s cheek with a hand. He leaned into it, turning his head to kiss her palm.

“I love you so much. I love you and Stefanie so much. I love you and Stefanie in this universe and every..I’m sorry,”

Stephen pulled away, standing up. She stood as well, a hand held her elbow.

“Take care of her, Mordo. Watch over her and Stefanie. Please, old friend?”

Karl pursed his lips, nodding slowly as he too was filled with sadness.

“Take her back..She doesn’t need to see this,” Stephen smiled, taking [Name]’s hand in his.

“Wait, wait, no. Where are you- What are you going to do to him? No! Wait! Wait!!” [Name] wailed. Stefanie sensed her mother’s distress and cried aloud as Karl slowly tugged her struggling form back. Stephen slowly let go of her hand, turning away and returning to the group.

He kneeled down before the five, breath shaking and heart heavy as the sound of his wife and baby’s wailing slowly disappeared. Everyone sympathised with the family but Stephen had to pay. Even if it meant killing him so no one would know what he had done.

“I shall miss you, old friend,” Charles spoke with a heavy heart. He didn’t want to do any of this. None of them did.

Stephen lifted his head to see his wife trying to get away from Karl as Christine held his baby. She dropped to her knees just short of the portal, screaming for Stephen’s name and begging for him.

Stephen squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.

This was it.

This was the end.

“I’m ready,”

The last thing [Name] saw just before the portal closed was Blackagar’s soundwave striking her husband and she felt so very numb, endless tears flowed till no end.

Her heart could never be mended.

Tears will always fall.

For she will never see her husband ever again.

Only love can hurt like this

#doctor strange #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange one shot #doctor strange imagine #doctor strange x you #Stephen strange #Stephen strange x reader #Stephen strange one shot #Stephen strange imagine #Stephen strange x you #marvel x reader #supreme!strange x reader #benedict cumberbatch

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oswildin · 3 years ago

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Into The Chaos ~ Peter Parker x F!Reader (Part 3 in the ‘Bittersweet’ Series)

Summary: With the fabric your universe on the brink of falling apart, you visit an old friend and teammate to ask for her help…

Warnings: Spoilers for NWH!!! Uses elements of WandaVision, Loki & Multiverse of Madness trailer.

Pairing: Andrew Garfield Peter Parker x F!Reader

Characters: Wanda Maximoff, Dr Strange, Peter Parker

Chapter Index: https://oswildin.tumblr.com/post/671144112696754176/bittersweet-series-masterlist

a/n: Part 3 is here!!! I may be ill and struggling to stay awake (hence why it’s a shorter part) but I managed to write little bits at a time. If there’s any mistakes, I apologise! I’m trying to piece things together as I go and with a migraine it’s difficult 💀 Thank you for all the support on this fic! ALSO, obviously we don’t quite know the plot of MOM so I’m kinda just using the trailer for ideas and I imagine Strange & Wanda would probably remember Peter cause of their abilities. Anyway, on with the story!

“Contain it?”

You raised a brow, laughing slightly in disbelief. Strange’s hard stare bored into you as Peter watched from the sidelines.

“I don’t mean to laugh, but how do you plan to do that?” You folded your arms. “As far I was concerned earths mightiest heroes have scattered.” You paused. “We can’t deal with another threat like Thanos.” Peter noticed the slight change of tone in your voice. It was panic. Fear.

“I know it sounds impossible-“ Strange began. “But I think I may know someone who can help.” He told you, pacing round, almost stalking you. You narrowed your eyes, before shaking your head.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried.” You told him. Peter furrowed his brows, lost at who you were referring to.

“Er-“ Peter interjected, causing you both to turn to him. “Sorry, who are you talking about?” He questioned, curiosity lacing his words. You shared a look with Strange before returning to face Peter once again.

“Wanda Maximoff.” You told him. “She has these powers, she’s stronger than most supers.” You paused. “But she’s been through a lot.”

“She’s the only way we can do this.” Strange told you sternly. “We need her help.”

You were stood by the hologram, inspecting the image that was before you. There was so many questions you had, as thoughts raced through your mind. Everything suddenly seemed bleak.

God it was a mess.

“Hey-“

You were pulled out of your thoughts by Peter, standing beside you. You hadn’t noticed him approach you, too busy in your head to realise. You turned your head to face him as he gave you a small smile, almost as if he was trying to offer comfort.

“Hey.” You responded quietly. You both stood in silence for a moment before you both went to speak at the same time, causing you both to apologise.

“No you-“ “You go-“

Both of you laughed lightly.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Peter finally asked, raising a brow.

“You’re gonna need a lot of pennies.” You joked. Peter started patting his sides, groaning as he clicked his fingers together.

“Damn-“ He sighed. “No pockets.” He threw his head back. “I knew that was something I should’ve included in the suit.” He joked as you shook your head at his antics.

“Yeah-“ You smiled tightly, scrunching your nose slightly. “Maybe stick to swinging and don’t take up a career in fashion design.” He mocked a fake hurt look as you pursed your lips, trying to fight your smile at the man. It was weird. You didn’t know him, but he felt… Familiar?

“This Wanda you mentioned…” He began. “Was she apart of the Avengers?” He asked, curious. You nodded.

“It’s a long story, but yeah, she was. Or is.” You corrected yourself. “I don’t really know anymore.” You mumbled to yourself. “We were like a family.” You told him honestly. “A weird, messed up superhero family.” You smirked. “But it worked. And like every family we had our fights.” You looked at him. “It was the only stable thing I had. What does that say about me?” You joked, he gave a small smile as he stayed quiet, listening to you. He was looking at you like you were the only person in the universe. “I worked for a man, called Tony Stark, he was the one who kinda led the Avengers, with another guy called Steve Rogers. But they had a disagreement, and for a while the Avengers fate was up in the air… Until Thanos.” Your features hardened at the name as Peter noticed the way your body tensed. “And then after that… Half of them were gone…” You looked down, as Peter instinctively reached out his hand, placing it gently on your shoulder, letting you know he was there.

“I’m sorry.” He told you softly as you shrugged.

“That’s life when you save the world.” You turned to peer into his eyes. “You would know.” His eyes stared into your own, almost as if he was searching for a sign of… Something… Recognition? He swallowed the lump in his throat as he pulled his gaze away, bringing his hand back to his side.

“Yeah…” Peter gave you a sad smile. “I know how it goes.” You could feel the sorrow radiate from him, and you for some reason wanted to reach out and hug the man next to you. “For a long time I didn’t think there was hope.” He paused. “Not for people like us.” You tilted your head slightly at his words. “I mean-“ He looked down at his feet for a second. “The world can seem so bleak through our eyes. We often come face to face with the bad and rarely with the good. But when we do have a brush with the good, it reminds us why we do this.”

You remind me why I do this. He thought.

You stared at him in silence before hearing a familiar noise, you turned to see Strange had opened a portal. On the other side was a sunny field, as you furrowed your brows. Putting two and two together, you realised Strange must’ve summoned a portal to Wanda’s location. You knew she wanted to stay hidden, but at this point, it felt like there was no other option.

“We have no other choice.” Strange told you, his eyes almost sympathetic, but his tone still authoritarian. You bit your lip before nodding at his words. Turning to Peter to give him a ‘let’s do this’ look, you both headed towards the portal, following Strange through it. Around you was silent, the only sounds were those of nature. It was beautiful. You could see why Wanda hid away there. In the distance was a house, as you all headed towards it. The closer you got, the clearer things became, and you could see a figure, seemingly tending to the surrounding garden.

You couldn’t help but smile slightly as you realised it was Wanda. Someone who you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Wanda.”

Strange spoke, as she paused what she was doing, her back to you all. She slowly turned, an unsure stare at first.

“I knew sooner or later you’d show up.” She told the man, as he gave her a small smile. Her eyes eventually trailed over to see you, as she raised a brow, before looking ashamed. “I made mistakes.” She began, talking to you. “And people were hurt.” She paused, seemingly regretful of her actions. You couldn’t help but feel for the woman, you stepped forwards away from Peter as you gave her a sympathetic stare.

“Wanda… We aren’t here about that.” You told her softly.

“Then what are you here for?” She asked, her features softening, turning into confusion as she looked between you three.

“We need your help.” Strange told her as she eyed him up and down, turning away as she began to walk back towards her home. You shared a look with Strange as you all began to follow.

All three of you were sat in Wandas kitchen, as she began making you all drinks. You and Peter sat opposite each other, as Strange sat at the head of the table. There was a slightly awkward silence between you all as you didn’t quite know what to say to Wanda. She’d been through a lot, more than the average person.

“How are you?”

You blurted out, eyes trained on her. She paused, almost tensing for a moment, before forcing a smile.

“Better.” She nodded at you, bringing the drinks to the table. “And you?”

“Same old, same old.” You shrugged, thanking her for the drink as you pulled it towards you. “Oh, this is Peter by the way.” You gestured to the man in question. He gave her a small awkward wave. Wanda turned to look at Strange, giving him a confused look.

This wasn’t Peter. At least not the Peter Parker she knew.

“Nice to meet you, Peter.” She went with, slight caution in her tone.

“Er, yeah, um, likewise.” He awkwardly replied, as you noticed the look between Strange and Wanda.

“So, what brings you here?” Wanda asked Strange, sitting at the other end of the table so she was opposite the sorcerer.

“What do you know about the multiverse?” He asked her as she tilted her head slightly at his question. She sighed before looking down at her own drink, playing with the handle.

“I know that it is infinite.” She said. “And dangerous. It isn’t just as simple as what it appears. There are many layers, and each one correlates to another.” She told you all, peering back up. “But that’s all I know.” She shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “I can feel there’s been a shift. This world is vulnerable.”

“That’s why we’re here.” You leant forwards, eyes on the woman. “Long story short, Stephen did a spell a few months back but it went wrong, and our Peter Parker was wiped from everyone’s minds. It was the only way to stop the destruction is this world.” You told her.

“But in the process-“ Peter chimed in. “It appears to have caused the fabric of reality, i-in every universe, to become weak. Tears are forming in time and space, allowing things and people to bleed into one another.” He explained as Wanda listened intently.

“It wasn’t just my spell that caused it.” Strange spoke. “There are other events, the biggest traced back to 9 years ago…” He paused. “And the latest to a year ago.” He told her as she realised what he was hinting at. She tensed her jaw, pulling her gaze away from you all. Silence fell between you all as Wanda began to think about her actions from that time. She knew what he was implying.

“We need your help to fix it.” You told her softly. “We can’t do it without you, Wanda.” She looked up at you at the mention of her name. She pursed her lips.

“So, what is the plan?”

Strange and Wanda carried on their discussion, trying to come up with a way to fix the mess that was unfolding. You were outside, stood on the porch of the house as you took in the view. It was stunning. You hadn’t been in such a quiet place in years. Your life had been consumed by noise and chaos since meeting Tony Stark. Unbeknownst to you, Peter was watching you from the door, his mask in his hand as he fiddled with it. It still hurt that you weren’t his (Y/N), and that you had no memory of him at all from his last visit into your universe.

“Staring again Parker?” You called back, sensing someone was behind you. He felt heat rise to his cheeks as he cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Just admiring the view.” He breathed out as you turned, raising a brow at him. He instantly realised what he had said, spluttering: “I mean- The er, the view of the land, it’s- It’s um, pretty.” He settled on as you smirked at him.

Nice one Peter, real smooth.

He walked towards you to join you on the porch.

“What if we can’t stop it?” You thought aloud. “What if this is it?”

“We’ll find a way.” He told you calmly. “That’s what we do.” He wore a small smile as you hummed in thought.

“There’s only so many times that luck is on our side.” You conquered, pursing your lips. Before he could say anything, his expression hardened. Something was wrong. You turned to look at him, seeing him staring out, eyes narrowed as he looked concerned. “What is it?” You asked. Suddenly, the ground shook, a low rumble travelling through the mountains. You snapped your head back to the landscape before you as you instantly became alert.

“Get inside.” He told you, putting on his mask as you furrowed your brows. Before you knew it, Strange and Wanda had appeared beside you, as they also stared out. “(Y/N), go inside.” Peter urged you, trying to usher you in as you frowned.

“Stop Peter!” You fought as you pulled back from his grip that he had on your wrist, trying to lead you back inside the house.

“I’m trying to keep you safe!” He exclaimed, exasperatedly.

“I don’t need you to!” You argued back, but before he could respond, a large crack could be heard as you all hastily turned to see a large tear forming in the ground, as it quickly began splitting the ground in two. “Shit.” You almost gasped. It was similar to the one you’d witnessed in New York, except this one was larger.

“We need to get out of here!” Wanda cried, turning to Strange as he began to form a portal. The ground was shaking violently now, as you held onto Peter for support. Without hesitation, you all ran through the portal, landing on the other side as Strange quickly closed it behind you all. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your heartbeat as your adrenaline was pumping. After you all got over the shock of what you’d just witnessed, Peter turned to you.

“You ok?” He asked, mask still on as you nodded, scanning the other three you were with to make sure they were also ok. It took a moment for you to notice that you were back at Strange’s residence, but the room was darker, greyer. It felt wrong. Looking up, you saw a swirling grey cloud vortex in the large round window. Strange obviously noticed, as he furrowed his brows, taking a step towards it.

“It’s never done that before.” He muttered, Wanda also looking at it, before she spoke:

“It’s happening.”

Taglist: (CLOSED!)

@hellothereobi @twinsunkithies @stylesann @woodyandbuzz20-01 @beecastle @jessyballet @sheridans-dynamos @timelesstay @degeathesaviour @vx-vexedvixen @nova-blackangel @tamascarian @fromis0 @justsom3onesworld @unknown-dreams @willowpains @shawnyboi75 @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @greysviolets @redgetawaycar @nova-blackangel @wordacadabra @eveieforeve02 @lizey-thornberry @urthereasonimleaving @shawnyboi75 @lazysheepperfection @loveonthecosmicbrain @tubble-wubble @uwiuwi @onlyangel-444 @alainabooks143 @hehehehannahthings @mi-amoree1111 @blooo0ooop @weirddominatrixpop @amber-arsenault @no-mercy-bby

(I couldn’t tag everyone so if your name is missing I’m very sorry! :( )

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plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms · 3 years ago

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Plot Twist (Ep. 1)

Summary: Life was full of plot twists. You start off with a dream of making a difference in the world, becoming an Avenger. You turn away within arm's reach of your lifelong dream, spurred by the disappointing truth you discovered and deciding to choose a different path. Fate brings you back unexpectedly when the Avengers take a special interest in a powered unsub the BAU is chasing.

Fandoms: Avengers, Marvel, Criminal Minds

Pairings: Steve Rogers x BAU!Reader (primary), Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader (previous, secondary)

Word Count: 1.1K

Warnings: 18+ EVENTUAL SMUT. MATURE THEMES. slow burn, enemies to lovers, canon level violence, explicit descriptions of violence and murder, serial killers, strong language

A/N: I told myself I wasn't gonna post this yet until I finished the whole thing, but fuck it. Let me know what you think. Special thanks to @sagechanoafterdark and @gogolucky13 for talking me through when I got stuck on this one.

No permission is granted to repost, steal, or translate my work. Not even a credit makes it okay. Tumblr is the only place I post my writing. If you see it anywhere else please report it.

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Episode 1:

-----------------

It would be wonderful to think that the future is unknown and sort of surprising. - Alan Rickman

-----------------

"Why does that last name sound familiar?"

Steve Rogers had both his hands on his hips and a deep furrow on his brow as he watched the jet land on the private tarmac in the Compound. Bucky, Sam, and Natasha stood beside him, relaxed but at the same time wary of their approaching visitors.

"At your age, Cap, I'd think every last name would be familiar," Tony snickered as he joined the group, typing rapidly on his phone.

"I thought you weren't going to be part of this mission, Tony," Steve frowned.

"Oh, I'm not. I'm just here to graciously welcome our guests to our humble home."

Natasha snorted, raising an eyebrow at the obviously fake innocent expression on the genius' face. "You're curious about the FBI Team coming."

"Haven't you worked with the FBI before?" Sam asked, keeping his eyes on the small plane that was slowly getting settled.

"Not with the BAU," Tony shrugged. "I find it fascinating. It's a special unit that specializes in analyzing human behaviour to catch insane criminals. Aren't you curious?"

"I'm more curious about the lead agent," Bucky said as he scratched the stubble on his chin. "I've heard about SSA Y/L/N before. He's apparently one of the best in the history of the Bureau. His skills in combat raised the training requirements and I hear he's ruthless in the field."

"Also highly intelligent, calculating, and praised as having incredible people skills by local authorities they’ve worked with and the families they help," Tony added, a twinkle clearly visible in his eyes.

"You're practically salivating, Tony," Nat chuckled. "You wanna try to recruit him, don't you?"

"I already sent him the offer," Tony smirked.

"We didn't discuss this, Tony," Steve scowled at him, his arms bulging as he crossed them tightly across his broad chest. "We haven't even met the guy."

"They also say he has a temper," Bucky added, slight amusement in his voice.

"We manage fine with Bruce," Tony shrugged. He straightened up as he saw the passengers start to disembark. "Heads up."

One by one the BAU Team disembarked and Earth’s Mightiest watched them carefully with great curiosity. The four passengers had begun their scrutiny of the other team the moment the plane touched down through what they could see out the small windows.

The first one out the plane was Derek Morgan, jogging down the steps with his usual confident swagger. Tony’s eyebrows shot up, clearly pleased with Derek who looked every bit as impressive as he expected. The rumors were clearly founded on truth and Tony was glad he made the offer.

The next one off was Penelope Garcia, bouncing down the steps in an explosion of patterns, color, and what Nat noted were feathers in her hair. She clutched Derek’s outstretched hand as she made the last steps, smiling brightly up at him. The FBI apparently had more personality than they thought.

Next off was Dr. Spencer Reid, squinting at the bright sun and huffing as the wind blew around his already unruly curls. Bucky noted how deceivingly lanky he was with his height and lean build, but he knew that there was muscle beneath the professorial look he had going on. Sam clocked the way his eyes were darting around, carefully taking stock of everything around him.

Last one off was who captured Steve’s attention the most. Professional and looking every bit like a seasoned agent, you moved with an unnatural grace down the steps. He noticed how the rest of the team looked to you and waited, only moving to walk alongside you in a loose formation after you nodded in confirmation. Tony was wrong. They were all wrong.

You were the lead agent.

It became more apparent the closer you got, the confidence in your steps and your steely gaze never wavering. You looked like an alpha among alphas and Steve couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. Your chin was lifted slightly and your expression was carefully kept blank, but the fire in your eyes was unmistakable. He didn’t just find you attractive, that was too tame of a word. You were arresting, the type of beauty that warranted a second look and for one to linger.

“Shit,” Steve muttered under his breath as his whole body suddenly froze at a realization.

Bucky threw a confused look his way, alerted at his unusual use of expletives. “What’s up, pal?”

“I do know her.”

“How?” Sam frowned.

“I may have attempted to date her.”

“What do you mean attempted?” Nat asked, frowning because she has also been attempting to set him up on dates for years now.

“We kissed and were supposed to go out for coffee. We never did,” he gulped, his throat getting tighter from the nervousness he felt.

“That’s not so bad, pal,” Bucky said, trying to comfort his friend.

“That was right before I failed her on her final SHIELD agent assessment.”

“You did what?” Tony shrieked. He threw his hands in the air in tired resignation. He couldn’t believe how proactive Steve was at screwing him over.

“I’m flattered you still remember me even after 7 years,” you said with a smirk as you and your team came to stand in front of them. Awkward introductions were made before your cheeky smile returned to Steve who was trying his best not to meet your eye. “Nice to see you again, Captain.”

You were clearly enjoying watching them squirm. It wasn’t just that you were a rejected SHIELD agent, but it also rubbed you the wrong way how they requested for this case to be handed over to them. That their reasoning was that the FBI couldn’t possibly handle a case like this. You didn’t like that.

You really didn’t like that.

It was fortunate though that BAU Section Chief Mateo Cruz had the same sentiments. The man had strong-armed his way into turning this into a joint task force and allowed you to take half the team with you. Your Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner’s parting words to you brought a cocky smirk to curl on your lips.

“Prove them wrong.”

“Uh, about that email I sent you - ”

“I have to respectfully decline, Mr. Stark.”

“Right. Of course. Awesome,” he said quickly as he began to back up out of the room. “Suites are ready for you. I hope you take full advantage of our amenities. I think you’ll particularly enjoy the several olympic sized pools and the interactive gun range. Enjoy your stay!”

You shook your head as the billionaire rushed out of the room. You turned to Natasha who looked to be the only stable person on their side at the moment. “Where can we set up?”

“Don’t you wanna get settled in first?”

“That can wait,” you said as you looked at each member of your team for confirmation. “We’re ready to deliver the profile.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x bau!reader #steve rogers #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid #bau!reader #criminal minds #avengers #marvel #mcu

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tanoraqui · 2 years ago

Note

Your mothers swap AU has lived rent free in my head since I read it, I can’t stop thinking about it, and your additional thoughts are so delicious! I admit, I assumed Feanor wouldn’t instantly collapse - and if the Valar would still ask him to break the gems, even if it’s much more obvious that this would kill him, and Fingolfins reaction to THAT. And protagonist!Fingolfin in Beleriand - given the way you’ve set him up, my thinking leans towards him being very much “we must all - noldor, sindar, everyone - work extremely closely together to defeat Morgoth. Under me. Clearly. I’m objectively the best person for this job.” Highly proactive, paternalistic, High King of Beleriand.

[dreamily] That would go over so well with Thingol, pre-established paternalistic High King of Beleriand...who has never heard of proactivity in his life...

[original post | AO3 link, btw]

Yes, I, too, am still thinking with slightly feral fondness about Arakáno son of Miriel, undisputed Prince of Tirion, calm and mature and at all times 2 seconds away from throwing a temper tantrum about how his terrible unwanted half-siblings are touching his stuff!*

*Finwë

I do think Curufinwë collapses immediately - not into comatoseness, but the shock of the passing Unlight hits him hard, as does the (they don't realize it yet but) loss of Finwë, as does the fact that the Silmarils have passed out of his possession. That matters, because, well, fairy tale logic.

So Fëanor is sitting on the ground, pale and leaning against Nerdanel, when Yavanna returns from her inspection of the broken Trees to declare, "The Light of the Trees has passed away, and lives now only in the Silmarils of Curufinwë. Foresighted was he! Even for those who are mightiest under Iluvatar there is some work that they may accomplish once, and once only. The Light of the Trees I brought into being, and within Ea I can do so never again. Yet had I but a little of that light I could recall life to the Trees, ere their roots decay; and then our hurt should be healed, and the malice of Melkor be confounded."

Nerdanel: Now wait a m— Arakáno, stalking forward to stand between them and the Valar, reaching for a sword he didn't bring: [Hamilton "Cabinet Battle 2" voice] You must be out of your Eru-damned mind—

After that...the Oath, differently worded to be a little less Silmaril-centric, maybe mentioned justice for Finwë or claiming a right to independence from the Valar, would be a very politically savvy move, as well as genuinely impassioned. Make Curufinwë a martyr for Arakáno's own movement! I think the children of both join it, though Arafinwë's don't. I don't think there's as much argument in the Great Square. Curufinwë wants the Silmarils back, too.

Possibly Curufinwë himself is convinced to stay behind? (He's not going to make it long no matter what, the question is when most impactful to remove him from the story.) If so, perhaps Ambarussa don't swear the Oath, and instead stay with him and Nerdanel.

But I also like...

I think we could get Arakáno killed if, in addition to Finwë's bloody death and Curufinwë's approaching Miriel-style death... He's going to send the ships back for the rest of them, he is. But he's going to establish a solid position first, which means killing these orcs, making contact with the locals, the Dagor-nuin-Giliath (Battle-under-Stars)...

...in which Argon falls.

Then Morgoth sends an invitation to parley, and Arakáno nearly dismisses it out of hand - but Findekáno convinces him that someone should go to hear what lies the enemy offers. With more warriors than promised, obviously, to wait in hiding in case they're needed...

…and Findekáno doesn't return.

Except, they can see him hanging on the mountain peak, when now and then the smoke around Thangorodrim clears.

That, I think, would combine to reach the famous Nolofinwë Suicidal-But-Taking-You-With-Me Despair-Rage Breaking Point.

Turukáno doesn't send the ships back. Turukáno is now barely holding his people, barely holding himself together, even with Elenwë ably overseeing the building of a sturdy camp and Irissë running patrols. The world is dark, the land is full of monsters, and the best thing Turukáno, Regent-King, can do is keep everyone he can where he can see them. (It's probably better that the others don't come to this cursed place anyway. They'll turn back, surely; Arafinwë already did it - even for his cousins, the Doom pounding in one ear must negate the Oath pounding in the other.)

#ficlet #my fic #the silmarillion #katekatharos #fingolfin #feanor and feanor's kin

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wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years ago

Text

Moment In Time

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Just when you've gotten out, you’re given a reason to come back.

Warnings: Might be some mild language.

Chapter 2

* * * * * * *

“Oh no one is judging you ya big doofus.” You trail a finger along the shiny metal surface, looking at your tinted and distorted reflection.“ Just think it’s a little unnecessary.” Looking up at Tony, you smile.

His brown eyes roll, a hand grabbing onto the roof of the sports car to assist in pulling himself out.“ There’s nothing unnecessary about having options.”

A snort of a laugh falls from your lips as you walk to the next car.“ Yeah sure. If that’s what you want to call this.”

“Half of these aren’t even mine.” He defends himself, hanging the keys up along with the other sets.

Pursing your lips you point to the car you’re in front of,“ who does this belong to then?”

“Natasha.” He answers, taking far too much delight in the way your challengingly cocky attitude drops.

So you decided to hang out for a while, see a couple floors and let Tony explain some things to you as he liked to do, then head home. But you’d found a reason to stick around. Or, better put, Tony found reasons for you to stick around.

You’d go to a floor, take in the sights, the tech, and listen to the man ramble on about the functionality of the floor. Around floor five you were ready to head out but Tony claimed you couldn’t see the medical floor and not go to the labs. And you couldn’t see the labs without seeing his workshop.

This reasoning went on and on until you found yourself in the garage. The sun had set a few hours ago, lights automatically flicked on inside the tower and the seemingly day to day sounds of the tower went away.

It’s quiet now, save for you and Tony talking and him occasionally starting up the cars.

You can’t lie and say you don’t enjoy hanging out with Tony. You’d always enjoyed your time with him, his actions and ideas unpredictable and so genius from the moment he learned to talk. But you also can’t lie and say you weren’t getting tired. A low, dull, rumbling started in your stomach not too long ago from the lack of food since this morning.

Making a bit of a show of looking at the last car, a sleep silver Audi that you know belongs to Tony, you check out the interior and make comments on the exterior. Then over exaggeratedly, you yawn and stretch your arms out.

“Alright T. It’s gettin late. Think it’s about time I head home.” You tell him, walking over and gently dropping your hand onto his shoulder.

He chuckles softly,“ Y/n, what kind of friend would I be if I let you go all the way back to Brooklyn while you’re tired and clearly hungry?” He pats your hand on his shoulder,“ you know Maria didn’t raise me that way.”

It takes every ounce of willpower to not toss him somewhere so you could leave. But you know it’s been some time since you and Tony actually hung out and while he definitely has some ulterior motive to this, his persistence gave it away, you oblige him. Your reasoning is that you know the food will be good.

What you aren’t expecting, however, is to find the entirety of the Avengers sitting around the living room on the main floor. Unlike the other floors that were quiet, a low chatter fills the space and a clanking of cutlery to ceramic plates.

With Tony’s arm around your shoulders, you’re guided to the tables lined with food that looks delicious. Tony obviously has some private chefs around here.

“Um, am I crashing some type of party or bonding time?” You ask him as he starts to pile food onto his plate.

“No,” he smacks his lips and waves you off,“ not really. We just eat together. Cap says it strengthens the team and all and I pay for the food so everyone comes. I’m sure they’ll be glad to have you.” With an almost devilish smile, he puts a bread roll on his plate and turns away.

Your narrowed eyes follow his retreating form. Sighing and shaking your head, you grab a plate, put a little of everything on it, then head over to the unoccupied bar.

Before you sit down to eat, you grab one of Tony’s expensive bottles of liquor off the top shelf. Pouring yourself a glass, you walk around the bar, catching the eyes of a couple members of the team before you sit down.

As you eat and drink, the laughter and banter of the team behind you erasing the silence of the room, you can’t help but remember the numerous times you’d had the privilege of being around your friends like that.

* * * * Flashback * * * *

With a friendly smile you push your chair out and stand up, walking over to the kitchen doorway. Reaching forward you grab the glass dish from the woman’s hands.

“Careful it’s-”

You nod and smile,“ I know. I’m fine.”

Marie’s eyes squint at you and she nods in understanding as she remembers. Patting your arm she turns back to the kitchen right before Jarvis comes out and follows you to the table.

Whispering a quiet ‘excuse me’ to Ana, you reach around her to place the dish on the table, then refind your seat across from her. The second your butt touches the seat two sets of eyes are on you.

“Y/n please tell this buffoon how ludicrous his invention sounds.” The angelically accented voice of your close friends says. You swear you can feel her gaze burning into your temple.

You look over at her, opening your mouth to speak when Howard cuts in.

“No Y/nn, tell Margaret that this is genius. It’s revolutionary!” He exclaims and your eyes widen a little.

Face morphing into an expression of offense, Peggy turns to look at Howard and they start bickering again.

Smiling amusedly, you lean back into the chair, making eye contact with Jarvis’ wife An from across the table.

Both of you shake your heads, An chuckling softly just before Jarvis comes to sit beside her.

“Howard,” the man looks up at the stern but sweet tone of his wife.“ That’s enough honey.” She gives a smile that matches the sweetness of her tone.

The Brit beside you snickers and you lightly smack the side of her leg with the bag of your hand, muttering a quiet,“ relax.” Which results in her huffing and crossing her arms, sending a glare at Howard that she fixes just as Marie sits down across from her.

Despite having been bickering since long before now, the Agent and Philanthropist waste no time in playing nice over dinner. Alongside them, Marie, An, Jarvis, and yourself have one of many very entertaining dinners. Laughs exchanged between all of you.

* * * * Flashback End * * * *

You’re yanked from the memory when a heavy weight lands on your shoulder.

Tensing up, you prepare yourself to fight whoever it is but you quickly remember that you’re in the Avengers tower with earth’s mightiest heroes. The chances of this being an attack are slim.

Still slightly tense, you look over your shoulder at the owner of the hand on your body. To find America’s golden boy looking down at you.

“Everything alright?” He asks, seemingly concerned. .

You give him a small smile and chuckle softly,“ all good Captain.” You give a playfully mocking salute and he sighs instantly afterwards.

Walking around the bar, he leans on top of it with his fingers laced in front of him.“ Listen I- I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did on the jet earlier.”

“That’s one way to put it.” You take a bite of your food, staying silent until you swallow, then sipping your drink.“ We’re good. I know my unexpected bombing was, well, unexpected.” He chuckles lightly at your words and shakes his head.

When he reaches up to almost nervously rub the back of his neck, you know he isn’t completely sure that everything is good.

“Have a drink with me Cap.” You tell him, nodding to the shelf of alcohol behind him.

Looking from you to the drinks, he nods.“ You can call me Steve.” He tells you, putting some ice in his glass then pouring his drink.

“Well Steve,” you raise your glass to him and he gently taps his against yours.“ Feel free to call me Y/n.” You tell him, sipping your drink.

He smiles softly at you, your invitation seemingly having done the job of calming his nerves slightly. Light conversation flows between the two of you, a back and forth of questions that answers don’t hold much consequence but still shed some light on the types of people yourself and Steve are.

By the time the sun has disappeared beyond the horizon and the sky is littered with stars and the lights of every skyscraper you and Steve are well through one of Tony’s more expensive bottles of liquor. Loud laughs sound from the two of you as you joke with one another.

While the alcohol doesn’t affect either of your systems as it would someone else, the other occupants of the living space would assume you were drunk.

It intrigued more than a few of them how loose and easy going Steve is. It wasn’t as if he never had fun with them or drank, but there seemed to be something about you that brought an even lighter aura to the older man.

“It was incredible. I’m telling you,” you shake your head with a small smile of excitement.“ I wasn’t inclined to be excited about it since I was there to see the Yankees kick ass, but the Dodgers played exceptionally well.”

Steve has a small smirk on his face, nodding approvingly as he sips his drink.“ Well I can’t say I’m surprised.”

Once again you laugh, finishing your drink and leaning off of the bar top.“ Ever proud, Mister America.” You say teasingly, bringing yet another laugh from the tall blonde.

He finishes off his drink and you take a deep breath and release it.“ Welp Cap,” pushing up out of your chair, you smile at him,“ it was a pleasure chatting with you. Ever want to talk about the good ole days-”

“I’ll give you a ring.” He holds his hand out to you and you shake it firmly.

As you take up the glasses and your plate you nod a goodbye to Steve and go your separate ways, you to the kitchen and Steve to the elevators.

Setting the dishes in the sink, you turn the water on and lean against the counter as you wait for it to get hot. Just before your mind can begin to wander you catch sight of movement in your peripherals.

A smirk almost instantly pulls onto your face at the sight of the red head walking in. Her green eyes are already trained on you with a look in them that you can’t describe.

“Agent Romanoff,” you nod to her, smirk still in place.

She takes small purposeful steps closer, stopping a few feet away from you,“ you lied to us. Member of SHIELD for a while?” She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head with an overly sweet smirk,“ you founded SHIELD.”

You hiss in a breath of air through your teeth, turning to face away from her as you chuckle.“ I didn’t lie, actually. Withholding all of the truth is a different thing.” Drying the plates off, you set them on the rack to dry, the forks and cups following afterwards.“ And let’s make something very clear, I am not a founder of SHIELD.” You dry your hands and turn to her.

“Really? Cause SHIELD records say otherwise” She reasons, stepping closer.

Eyebrows raising at her further approach, you do the same. You smile softly at her and close the distance between you two, leaving just under a foot of space.“ I understand you aren’t happy with the redacted details of my history Agent Romanoff so let me clear it up for you.”

Natasha tilts her head at your words and listens intently as you continue.“ I didn’t found SHIELD. I was the first ever agent. Agent Carter and Howard Stark saved me and administered me an enhanced version of the same serum Steve took. I owed them my life and I made sure to protect them,” you falter at that, jaw clenching as a horrible memory flashes through your mind.

“That’s how you met Tony?” She asks. It wasn’t missed by Natasha. The ex-assassin could read anyone. The second she noticed the distant look in your eyes she knew something was wrong and while she was curious, something told her not to ask about that.

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and look at her.“ Was in the hospital the night he was born. Watched him grow up.” You smile fondly,“ he’s family.”

For a moment it’s quiet. Still you watch Natasha, unsure if she’s finished or not. Just when you think she’s done, you nod and head towards the door, only to stop when she speaks.

“Why did you come for us?”

Turning from the door, you look over your shoulder at her,“ I owed Nick a favor.”

Her eyes narrow at you and you give a small nod before leaving out.

Neither you or Natasha would’ve guessed that would be your last conversation for the span of the next week. While you were at the tower a few times, to drop off something you’d talked about with Steve or pick up Tony before the two of you went and hung out somewhere, you hadn’t gone inside.

She wouldn’t admit it to you but Natasha had started to wonder when you’d come back. Not only does your reputation precede itself, something about your personality intrigues her more than she’d ever been before. She wanted to see you again, talk to you again.

Green eyes look through the clear blue glass, brows slightly pinched together at the sight of you and Tony hugging. Natasha debated with herself whether or not she was going to go speak to you as Steve jogged out of the front doors and over to you, sharing a handshake and a hug.

The last thing the ex-assassin expects to feel is the little flutter in her stomach when you smile brightly.

She tears her gaze away from you, frown deeper than before. Her thoughts running a mile a minute.

When a weight drops onto her shoulder she almost flinches. Grabbing the hand on her, she twists it and forces the person to stand in front of her, slamming them into the window.

“Well damn.” You curse, using your hand on the window to push yourself off the window. A chuckle falls from your lips as Natasha let’s you go.“ Guess it wasn’t a good idea to approach a trained agent without speaking.” You say jokingly, green eyes snapping down to the smile on your lips and back up.

There’s an incredibly short pause from Natasha before she channels her usually straight expression.“ What’d you want Y/Ln?”

“How bout a smile Romanoff.” When a beat passes without her expression changing you sigh.“ I want a cup of coffee. And I want you to come get one with me.”

“Come again?” Her expression cracks slightly as her eyebrows raise slightly.

You tilt your head and smile softly at her.“ You were practically shooting lasers at me through the window. Figured either you wanted to get out of the tower or you were jealous Tony and Steve were taking up all my time.” A teasing tone wraps around all your words and Natasha instantly scoffs.

“I have no reason to be jealous of Stark or Rogers.” She says and you nod.

“I figured as much. Which means you want to get out of the tower.” You nod for her to follow you.“ Cup of coffee does everyone some good.”

Natasha watches the confident stride you make towards the door, not once looking back as you just know she’s going to follow. And she does, despite her pride telling her not to.

The coffee shop isn’t too far away from the tower so you walk. Unlike your walks with Steve, it’s silent. The redhead stays two steps behind you, not saying a word as she follows.

A burst of cool air rushes past the two of you with your first step into the coffee shop to the sound of the bell jingling above you. Smiling softly at the familiar building you walk further in.

Natasha takes into account that there are no more than ten customers inside. For a New York coffee shop it was incredibly quiet and quaint.

“Love it here,” she hears you mumble as you step up to the counter.“ Hi, can I get one medium black coffee and a large iced coffee with two creams and two sugars.” The woman rings you up and you pay. Pocketing your wallet as you turn to face Natasha.

You smile at her lack of emotion. There is no reason for you to be as grumpy and blank as she is.“ I’ve been to a lot of places but here, they have the best coffee.” You tell her.

Her head tilts slightly and you purse your lips and nod. Once again it’s silent as you wait, then you grab the coffees when your name is called, turning to hand the black coffee to Natasha.

With things going the way they are, you have an internal battle on staying here or just going back to the tower. Taking one last chance, you nod to an empty table and sit down. Natasha coming over and sitting as well.

“Look, Natasha, you can’t hate me so much that we can’t even have a coffee together.” Your tone of voice is one of confusion and slight sadness.

Frowning once again at the emotions in your voice, Natasha watches you. Green, calculating eyes and a blank expression are the only signs of how hard she’s thinking right now.

With a huff of a sigh she says,“ I don’t hate you.” She admits, face finally giving way to emotion.“ I- I barely know you.”

“Well maybe we should change that.” Holding up your cup of coffee you take a sip and tell her,“ I think if you give me a chance, I might not be as bad as you think.”

Her eyes narrow and for the first time ever, you see her crack the smallest of smiles.“ We’ll see about that.”

* * * * * * *

Taglist: @owloftheshadows @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife @yumusak-yastik

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x you #moment in time #reader insert

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lenissa · 3 years ago

Text

You always meet twice (Wanda Maximoff x Romanoff!Reader)

(not my GIF)

Masterlist

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Pietro Maximoff x Reader (Past), Natasha Romanoff x Reader (Siblings)

Warnings: cursing, i think that‘s it?

Summary: When your sister Natasha asked you to be her representative at the Avengers, you immediately agreed. But then you meet Wanda Maximoff again and it seems like your shared past comes up as well as the then developed feelings.

Word Count: 3.1K

In bold are flashbacks.

A/N: This story is based on my POV i started some months ago, but the plot varies most of the time. Keep in mind that this is my first story and please be nice hahaha

Good reading!

——————————————————————————

You are walking through the halls of the Avenger‘s compound. Although your sister always talks about them, “her new family“, you have never met them before. At least not all of them. Some agents throw judgy glances at you, but you decide to ignore them - you are (Y/N) Romanoff, you’re not in need of being popular, being friendly, you’re a damn skilled agent, always ready to kick asses. That’s also why it didn‘t bother you when Natasha, your older sister, called and asked you for a favour - rather, you have always been curious what it is like to be an Avenger, so you didn‘t even think twice about accepting her offer of being her stand-in for some months.

Are you confident? Yes. Well... you try to be? Maybe- no definitely: it became a coping mechanism. But nobody could blame you… being Natasha Romanoff‘s sister sucks. Don‘t get it wrong, you love your sister with your whole heart, she is your one and only, your tower of strength. But constantly being overshadowed by her? Once people hear about your famous relative you were only seen as her sister, your own persona and personality weren‘t interesting anymore. As a result, you were working for S.H.I.E.L.D in an outpost in Europe, distant enough to start your own life, own career and only hearing about one Romanoff, (Y/N) Romanoff.

You stand before the door of the meeting room, aware of as soon as you go in there, there‘ll be no going back. Surprisingly calm you take one final breath before you knock and get invited in. There they are. The Avengers. Some of them you already know: Clint aka Hawkeye, your sister‘s best friend, Steve aka Captain America, your sister‘s ex-lover, Tony Stark aka Iron Man, sarcasm in person, and… the Maximoff Twins? Seeing them, seeing her, it literally took your breath away. You freeze, not able to breathe, to react nor to say anything.

„(Y/N),my god, have you grown?!“, Clint breaks the silence while coming near to hug you. In his arms you finally release the breath you unconsciously were holding in, and when you pull back you take a closer look at him.

„You‘re becoming grey, Legolas, are the kids that bad?“, you tease, matching his tone and patting his arm lightly.

„Oh dear, it just makes me nervous to see you again“, he jokes as he motions you to sit down.

„Speaking about that, it‘s nice to see you again, (Y/N).“ Steve nods at you and you force a smile - you think Steve is a nice guy, you really do, but you don‘t know the exact circumstances of his break-up with Nat, so you decide to keep distance in a friendly manner.

The remaining time of the meeting nothing special happens, though every time you look around the table you can‘t help but rest your eyes on a certain brunette. And it seems like she notices your gaze, meeting your eyes on and off. You try to ignore the uncomfortable feeling that sets in your stomach whenever her green eyes meet yours, and obviously you are not able to hold the eye contact, so you always look at the floor quickly.

After the meeting the heroes all pop off, only you stay to put away the new equipment and gear you got. But then suddenly a well-known voice speaks up and you startle.

„Already forgot me, (Y/N)?“ You turn around, your heart racing.

„How could I forget the Wanda Maximoff?“, you nervously chuckle.

„I must say I‘m disappointed, I at least expected a greeting.“

„Wanda I-„

„(Y/N)! How long has it been? I…“, Pietro speeds in the room and rubs his neck tense, „I missed you.“

Wanda wheezes and rolls her eyes. „I‘m gonna leave you lovebirds alone“. She walks out of the room before you can say anything more.

„Well that was… weird.“ you say as you turn completely to Pietro.

„She‘s going through a hard time, she will be gentler soon.“

„You think so?“, you laugh, „define soon.“

Pietro chuckles and doesn‘t answer, not even he sees through Wanda‘s feelings, especially when it‘s about you. „Come on, I will introduce you to the others.“

——————————————————————————

Pietro took you to the living room and you have to say, you never thought the Avengers, the world‘s mightiest heroes, would be so endearing. You can finally understand why Nat sees them as her family, even after only spending some hours with them you start to let them in your heart immediately. Until Bucky decided to bring up a sensitive topic.

„From where do you know the twins, (Y/N)?“

You choke on the soda you are drinking, completely caught off-guard with that question. But after clearing your throat your coping mechanism once again appears. „They didn‘t tell you, huh? Well, we had a past.“, you chuckle.

Tony rolls his eyes, annoyed by the childish behaviour, but it makes you smile even bigger. Pietro blushes at the sudden mention of him and tries to distract. „(Y/n), why don‘t you tell them about your powers?“.

„Ok, ok… I'm pretty good at Teleportation, mind manipulation and shape shifting objects.“

Bruce, who you learnt was the human version of the Hulk, was stunned. „Wow, that sounds like a nice substitute for Natasha.“ You smile at him appreciating.

„So Romanoff, since the only other mind stuffy person in this house seems to be pissed, you’ll start training with Rogers.“ Tony announced bugged.

„Can‘t wait.“ You and Steve get up to go to the gym and the rest starts talking about their new member.

„She seems like a faithful person. A true Romanoff.“, Bucky states.

„Ironically, she‘s really good at betrayal and hurting people.“, Wanda says snippy as she walks in to get a snack.

Pietro sighs, „Wanda, what the hell?“

„She‘s not as perfect as you think, Romeo.“

Tony claps to get their attention, „Concentration, guys! You better clear up, Wanda, I just got Information from Fury, you and y/n will be a team in tomorrow‘s mission.“ Wanda rolls her eyes in annoyance, but she knows that it‘s unnecessary to protest.

——————————————————————————

During training, all you thought of was Wanda. Then you tried to read, sleep, watch tv, but nothing could distract you from thinking about the Sokovian. It felt like all the feelings you tried to suppress this past year flood you now at the same time. You barely perceived that you got up, your feet carrying you to the kitchen. Standing in front of the kitchen door you finally wake up from your trance. Your hands are sweaty and shaky, your heart pounding. “What the hell am I doing here?“ You think and just before you turn around the door opens, hitting your shoulder lightly.

„Oh my god, I didn't see you, are you ok?“

„Don‘t worry, I‘m fine. I- I was about to leave anyway.“

„But you haven’t even been in there yet, (Y/N).“ The way she says your name releases a cluster of butterflies in your stomach, green eyes watching you amused. „I‘m sorry.“

„Really, it‘s fine. Wanda, list-“

„Don‘t, (Y/N). We don‘t have to do this.“, Wanda sighs.

You take a deep breath and continue, „No, I have to. I am sorry. For everything. I-...I miss you.“

„(Y/N), please, sto-“, she says almost whispering.

„As a friend. I miss my best friend.“

You notice slightly tears forming in her eyes. „You did this to me-“

„(Y/n)! We need you to show us your powers!“ Bucky shouts excitedly as he approaches you both.

„Bucky, now is really not the time to-“

„We need it. For the plan. You know, tomorrow‘s mission?“

You clench your fists and sigh, you know the private moment you just had was ruined. With one apologetic look to Wanda you follow Bucky to the meeting room.

This job will be your end.

——————————————————————————

You weren‘t wrong about this job being your end. Well at least the circumstances. Last night’s events were just... crazy.

After showing the team your powers you went straight to bed, exhausted from all the physical training and psychological stress. When you heard the knocking on the door, you‘re surprised to see Pietro standing there after opening it.

„(Y/N), I think we should talk.“

„Pietro, i-...“, you sigh, „today‘s really not my day. Can we wait until tomorrow?“

„I can‘t wait. Please. I need to get this out.“

„Oookay, go on then, i guess.“, you say, kinda annoyed by the pushiness of the Sokovian.

„I‘m glad that you are here and ok.“

„So am I...“ you laugh humorlessly, „it certainly feels nice to know someone here that doesn‘t completely hate me“ Pietro looks you in the eyes and slowly comes closer. Your breath hitches and you gulp hard when he takes your hand.

„Pietro, what are you doi-“ Before you can finish the sentence, lips are pressed on yours. You are shocked by the action, and you hesitate to kiss back. Yet you can’t resist the familiar feeling of his lips caressing your own, so you kiss back.

„(Y/N), we need to...“, Wanda says approaching your floor but when she sees you both, she immediately freezes„...talk.“

The second you hear her talking you pull back and step away from Pietro. The brunette looks at you incredulously and then walks away.

„Wanda. Wanda!“ you shout while running after her. „Wanda, would you please stop eloping!“ She stops and turns around, eyes burning red. She‘s furious, dangerous, not in control of herself.

„Wanda, use your words. Calm do-“

——————————————————————————

She did not calm down. In fact, she threw you against the closest wall. Even though you don’t have any serious injuries, you are mad. If you were trying to find the courage to talk to her, she could use her words too, right? The morning was quiet, too quiet if you are honest. Each time the door to the gym opened you startled, expecting to get yelled at. But it never happened. Once the twins walked in, they ignored you. Both of them, though Pietro occasionally glanced confused at you. After debating whether you should talk to her or not, you decided to walk up to her and confront her. „What the hell was that yesterday, Wanda?!“

She just huffs and continues to hit the punching bag, but you are determined to talk about it before going on a mission with her, you couldn‘t risk being distracted.

„You‘re acting like a bitch, I don‘t even recognize you anymore“, you say incredulously.

She aggressively turns around. „I am the bitch? You‘re the one that throws herself at anyone, not being here for even a whole day!“

„He“, you point at Pietro, „ he fucking kissed me! I never wanted it to happen. He caught me off-guard!“

„Oh and of course you couldn‘t defend yourself, poor (Y/N).“ Wanda ironically retorts, pushing you against your shoulder.

„Guys-“

„You literally came in one second after he kissed me-“

„GUYS!“ Pietro shouts and both of you turn to him, not noticing that he’s still in the same room. „What the hell is going on with you two?“

„You know what? What the hell Pietro, too! You can‘t just kiss me after not seeing me for a year! What if I don‘t like you anymore?“

„You don‘t like me anymore?“

„You don‘t like him anymore?“

You sigh. „Yes. No. I mean…. I don't like you anymore like that. I- I like you as a friend, Pietro. After you flew from Hydra-“

„-alone-“, Wanda interjects.

„After you flew from Hydra alone, it broke my heart! You freaking left us there!“

Wanda scowls. „And then you did the same to me some time later.“

„Wanda I-... You think it was easy for me to just leave you behind? Fuck, Wanda, do you really think that low of me? When Nat rescued me I tried to convince her to take you with us but she… we… you...“

„Say it, (Y/N). I was the enemy. You were the poor agent, kidnapped by Hydra and experimented on and I was the maniac that volunteered for a dangerous organization.“

„I tried to come back and get you!“

„Don't lie to me, (Y/N).“

„Oh my god“, you huff, „believe me for once!“

„Why should i?!“

„Because I love you!“

O oh.

You both tense, green eyes filled with rage, jealousy, confusion, probably every emotion there is, staring wide at you. You all stand there in silence, all shocked by your outburst, and the only thing that can be heard is your shaky breathing. „Shit. I- I need to go“, you mumble as you storm out of the room embarrassed.

——————————————————————————

This was not going well. Your relationship with Wanda was already complicated enough and your dumb, unplanned love confession didn’t really help. However, you needed to suck it up, ignore all the overthinking in your mind. You are here for a reason. A job. Not a witch.

You are here for the missions. For Nat.

That’s what you tell yourself all the time. But your brain and your heart don‘t really agree, especially while being on a mission with Wanda. You have never been more thankful for your powers that were blocking her out from reading your mind, you were sure your thoughts were literally screaming at her. And gee, you know her too well, she was trying to read your mind - Wanda always has that certain concentrated cute gaze and slight wrinkles between her eyebrows when she does it. Studying her so precisely was a mistake, it made the whole thing even more uncomfortable.

She didn’t react to what you said earlier (not that you gave her that much chance), she acted like you never said anything important like that. But when she caught you staring at her she raised her eyebrows challengingly and broke the silence.

“Are you nervous?”

“Hmm? Oh well, no. I- I guess we had more difficult missions.”, you give her a shy smile and start playing with your fingers nervously.

“Sure.. That’s why you’re currently doing one of your habits when you’re nervous.`` Wanda teases.

You blushed, your cheeks turning faint red. “Let’s just do this'', you say, stepping out of the jet and putting in the comm - earpiece.

Your task wasn’t hard. Go in, kill the enemies, destroy the data, walk out. It was going well until you saw Wanda getting attacked from behind. But before the agent could point his gun at her and hurt her you shut your eyes close and focused on turning his gun into a flower.

“Romantic!”

“You’re welcome”, you playfully roll your eyes. You curse yourself for having no other - less with love connected - idea to use. You scream just before a grenade goes up next to you, throwing you through a glass door. You can’t use your teleportation in time and the impact is pretty hard, causing you to pass out.

Wanda turns after hearing your scream. “Shit, shit, shit Romanoff!”, she activates her comms, “Guys, pick us up, (Y/N) is down!” She stands protectively next to your unconscious body, defending you from getting attacked or worse.

— — —

You wake up in the medical wing of the Avengers. The first thing you notice is that you’re still wearing your suit, so the injury couldn‘t be that bad. At least you thought. Only seconds later you feel the banging in your head, ringing sounds in your ears. You bury your face in the pillow, frustrated of being new and your first mission already gone wrong. You could hear them teasing you for being the “weaker” Romanoff and start rethinking the choice to even get on this team.

And then Wanda walks in and all thoughts are gone. No more noises, no hammering - all senses preoccupied with her. She seems tired, still wearing her suit as well, and exhausted.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” You look at her curious. “You look tired.”

She chuckles lightly. “You pass out and the first thing you comment is how I look? Wow.”

“What can I say, you really make me concentrate on other things than my condition.” She looks confused at your statement, though an amused smile on her lips. “Because you’re a known face- family- and that reminds me of my sister and gives me comfort.”, you stutter complete nonsense.

Did i really just say that?!

You wished she wasn’t standing there, then you would have been able to facepalm yourself as hard as you could.

“Oh, eh, sure. I’m tired, you were right. You were unconscious the whole night. I stayed, I thought it would be nice for you to not wake up alone.” She tries to overplay your weird comment.

“The whole night? Holy shit. I was unconscious for that long i-”, you feel your whole body tingling as you just now realize her purpose, “that’s very nice of you. Thank you.”

“No, no (Y/N). I owed you that. You saved me...thank you.”

“Wanda Maximoff, you do have manners after all.“ She playfully rolls her eyes on your comment and glances at the floor in embarrassment. „You’re welcome. You would have done the same - I hope?”

She giggles and you can’t help but smile like an idiot at that adorable sound. Then you just stare at each other, both too shy to break the comfortable silence. But then Wanda speaks up again.

“You know I’m-”, she starts fidgeting with her rings, “I’m sorry. For being such a bitch. I.. appreciate what you said… earlier. I guess I was just hurt and frustrated.“

“I know Wanda. Don’t be sorry. You have every right to be mad. It was wrong to expect that we could pretend like nothing happened back there in Sokovia.”

After a short silence Wanda asks, almost in a whisper: “Do- do you regret it?”

“What?! No! Loving you is the best thing that has ever happened to me. As a friend. But also more.”, you shake your head as if to underline your sentence and the last part of the sentence coming out almost inaudible, but she still hears it.

Wanda says nothing, she just nodds. But then she slowly moves her hand to your own and takes it. Ignoring the butterflies spreading all over your body, you squeeze her hand, happy you both stopped fighting. You shuffle to the edge of the sickbed and pat to the free place next to you. The Sokovian hesitantly moves next to you, but as soon as she feels your warm body next to her, she gives in and relaxes. You both lie there, just enjoying each other’s presence, until Wanda’s eyes start to get heavier and heavier and she eventually drives off to sleep. And seeing her, the girl you love, in this peaceful state relaxes you as well and you can’t fight falling asleep with the calming sound of her steady breathing next to you.

——————————————————————————

Part 2

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #wanda maximoff x you #elizabeth olsen x you #wanda #wanda marvel #wanda x y/n #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fic

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mygodyouredivine · 3 years ago

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The Hell in Your Eyes - 1

Summary: Loki doesn't meet her until two weeks after his initial imprisonment, but he knows he hates her. He has to hate her. Because the way she talks to him and helps him and saves him meals can't mean anything. She is too soft to deal with Loki, who is hardened with pain, pain, and more pain. And Loki hates soft things.

Have you ever seen the hell in someone’s eyes and loved it anyway?

Characters: Loki Laufeyson/(f)Reader

Warnings: mild mentions of violence, mild blood

Word Count: 3122

Next Chapter

Loki doesn’t meet her until two weeks after moving into his new prison.

In fact, he’s slightly confused as to how this mortal has escaped his notice — not that she is even remotely worthy of his scrutiny, but he distinctly remembered conducting a mental count of the tower’s inhabitants, one she is obviously missing from. Loki was quite confident he knew of every single person’s existence within his prison walls, yet here he is, staring at a mortal whom he’s never laid eyes upon, and it unnerves him.

Loki is not scared of anything, but he prefers to be aware of his enemies.

His gaze is wary as he stares down the unfamiliar face, memorizing the way her hair frames her face, the way her eyebrows are slightly raised, and her eyes, which are meeting his own with a mix of surprise, defiance, and a tint of fear. He grins.

Ah, never quite without the fear.

But then her attention moves past him and focuses on his brother — typical — and Loki’s grin falls. Thor is standing besides Loki, just recently interrupted from his enthusiastic explanation of what a ‘smoothie’ is. He now sports a ridiculously wide grin and surges forward towards the unknown woman. His shoulder rams into Loki’s, pushing him out of the way in his haste to greet her.

Loki decides he despises her.

“Angel!” comes Thor’s booming shout, his voice altogether too happy, too enthusiastic, too loud . He sweeps the woman — Angel — into a warm embrace. Loki snorts derisively, noting the girl’s chipped nails, painted a crude shade of black, the oversized, undignified shirt she sports, and the atrocious mop of hair sitting atop her head. He is utterly unimpressed.

“Ow Thor, you’re crushing my ribs.”

Her voice is bothersome, altogether too scratchy and too rough and too hoarse. She sounds like she just woke up. Every word she says grates upon his nerves, fueling his dislike. Loki wishes she would drink some water, if only to soothe his growing irritation.

His brother releases her, and she takes a couple of steps back, smoothing down her hair. Her fingers are entangled in the ends, and she pulls on them with the impatience of a child. Still grinning at Thor, she continues.

“What are you doing up so early?” she inquires. “I know for a fact you don’t have to train in the mornings to maintain your stupid godly body.”

As Thor’s booming laughter once again echoes throughout the room, Loki cannot help but roll his eyes. Pathetic . Just another airheaded girl infatuated with his oh-so-righteous golden brother. At this point, Loki doesn’t even feel disappointment. This is to be expected, after all. Thor is the one who is a hero. Thor is part of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. Thor helped save humanity — against Loki no less. Thor never tried to subjugate New York, nevermind that Loki’s mind hadn’t been his own, that his body was hastily reconstructed, that —

“Good morning to you too my lady! I was just here with Loki, teaching him how to make smoothies. With — what do you call this? Ah, a blendifier.”

Thor’s voice is softer than Loki is used to, and in this moment he decides that he hates his brother’s voice much more than he hates this useless mortal’s. He drowns out the rest of their conversation, idly wondering if he can slip away while his brother is distracted. Perhaps he could get back to his reading; Midgard’s literature is undoubtedly inferior to Asgard’s but also infinitely more engaging than concocting whatever a ‘smoothie’ is supposed to be.

His train of thought is interrupted by Thor calling out his name.

“Oh, but you haven’t met!” Thor turns towards Loki — seemingly just remembering that Loki is in the room — and motions towards the girl.

“Loki, this is [Y/n], and my lady, this is Loki, my brother, the one I’ve told you about.”

Loki wonders what Thor has told her about him. Surely, if his previous activities on Midgard haven't spoken clearly enough, whatever narration of their childhood tainted with Thor’s tongue should have sufficiently warned her of himself.

But the mortal woman surprises him. She sticks out her hand and offers him a handshake. Hesitantly, he takes her hand and shakes once, firmly, then quickly releases her. Her hands are warm and soft — much unlike his. He wonders if they too can become as calloused as his own. Perhaps if she was forced to endure what he had. He doubts she has ever even felt a flicker of pain. No, pain hardens. She cannot have felt pain because pain is relentless and beautiful and pain is cruel and glorious and because with pain either you embrace it or you break and she is too soft to have felt pain.

Loki doesn’t like soft things.

“Hey Loki. I’m [Y/n] but everyone just calls me Angel. Or Angie if you prefer. It’s nice to finally meet you. ” Her voice doesn’t waver, but Loki can detect the underlying unease present. He doesn't, however, detect a lie. How interesting.

“Pleasure,” he deadpans, lip curing into a sneer. Thor frowns, his brother quickly moving between them, shielding her from Loki. Loki scoffs. As if he could do anything to her. Loki could not so much as breathe without permission. Here, Loki was at the complete mercy of his brother, the pitiful Avengers, and now this drowsy looking, disheveled Midgardian.

Loki almost laughs. Oh how far he’s fallen.

Thankfully, his interaction with the girl — Angel — seems to be over. She turns away from him, once again addressing his brother.

“Just remember when using the blender — not blendifier — to be careful. Make sure your hand is nowhere near the blades when you turn it on, and clean it with a sponge. Or just rinse it out and put it in the dishwasher. You know how the dishwasher works, yeah?” Her eyes are filled with sincerity and adoration and Loki hates it. For a brief moment, he entertains the thought of shoving Thor’s head into the blender. He doubts it would fit.

His brother beams at her. “Do not worry my lady. I know how to use the blendifier. Even if the blades were to attack my fingers, I assure you my Asgardian strength would protect me.” Loki is fairly sure the blades could take out a sizable chunk of Thor’s hands. The temptation to test out his theory rises again, and he stomps it down.

Thor is just as boastful as ever, never ignoring a chance to show off in front of others. Thor hasn’t changed a bit. Thor is still the completed, whole reflection of himself while Loki is just broken fragments. It isn’t fair. Oh but when has life — the cursed thing — ever been fair to Loki? His irritation grows and his hands clench, his fingernails digging into his palms. Pain. Pain is comforting to Loki. Loki knows pain and he likes it.

“Sure, sure. I know your stupid godly genes will protect you or whatever, but just be careful. I’m pretty sure you still bleed, and blood smoothies really aren’t all that appetizing.” She looks at Loki then, her eyes glinting mischievously, and winks. “Unless, of course, you volunteer to clean up as well, because I sure as hell know we don’t want to scrub your bloodstains off these counters.”

Loki isn’t quite sure how to react, but his fists loosen.

She’s soft and weak and mortal but she’s also snarky and sarcastic. And Angel is the first person to use ‘we’ and include Loki in a long time. He decides he hates it. He doesn’t wish to be included with these Midgardians under any context. He doesn’t need their pity, their false sympathy. In fact, Loki prefers the venomous looks of the other Avengers much more than whatever trick this woman is spinning. His fingernails once again dig into his palms and he feels the familiar trickle of blood sprouting from his palms.

Angel looks away and turns back to Thor, who offers her a bit of the ‘smoothie’ he has been attempting to make for the past hour. She giggles, a sickly sweet sound that makes Loki’s stomach churn, and pats Thor’s arm.

The blood running from Loki’s fingers drips onto Stark’s expensive, pristine floor.

“Thor, the last time you made smoothies they worked more as laxatives. I’ll pass.” She grins again, and Loki wants nothing more than to wipe that expression off her face. He wonders how she’ll look without the seemingly ever present light on her face. Perhaps her eyes will resemble the dull marbles that stare at Loki every time he looks into a mirror. Her gaze falls upon Loki again, but she refrains from addressing him.

With that, Angel turns and saunters away, her sock covered feet softly padding across the floor. Her socks are mismatched and worn and frayed at the edges.

______________________________

The woman is right. Thor’s smoothie is nothing short of poison and Loki tells him as much.

“This is absolutely atrocious.”

Thor’s eyebrows connect in a comical frown as he takes a sip. His lips pucker and he forces himself to swallow. “I completely disagree, brother! This is just what the Midgardians drink. It’s a part of their culture, something you should get to know well.”

Thor hasn’t changed a bit. He is as stubborn as he ever was. Thor would rather drink the entirety of the brown mush he has made than admit to Loki he was wrong. He wonders how Thor would react to Angel’s criticism.

Thor pats Loki on the back as he motions towards the mess he has made out of the kitchen. Loki knows Thor cannot feel the scar tissue hidden underneath Loki’s clothes, the raised edges and criss-crossed lines. He knows this because he hides it. He doesn’t need anyone, much less Thor, to know of the scars his body carries, and he doubts his brother would care. But Loki wishes Thor wouldn’t use so much force. He disguises a wince under a scowl and steps away.

“Brother, would you mind tidying up? I have a training appointment with the Captain, and I would rather not be late.”

Loki doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t have to. Thor is already walking away from Loki, his steps heavy and confident, so unlike Angel’s. Thor is leaving Loki to clean up his mess, another mess Loki had no part in making, and Loki is once again responsible. For he knows, he doesn’t have a choice. If any of the tower’s inhabitants were to come down and see Loki in the midst of this disaster, he knows they will blame him. Not that it particularly makes a difference, but Loki would prefer less hostility than needed.

With a wave of his hand, his seidr sweeps across the room, erasing any evidence of Thor’s ill-fated attempt at creating something. Loki does a once-over of the room, ensuring everything is returned to its original position, and as he moves to return to his quarters, a flash of red catches his eye.

Ah. His blood on the floor. The blood of a god — frost giant — cannot be as easily removed as the stains left behind in the blender.

Looking around, Loki grasps a sponge and, after again ensuring no one can see him, bends down to begin scrubbing his own blood off the floor. Loki doesn’t like blood. It’s too red and too warm and he knows its rusted smell will follow him throughout the day. He especially despises his own blood. It stains.

In the midst of his undignified scrubbing, Loki detects footsteps. He moves to stand up — quickly, but he is too late. Angel walks back into the kitchen, this time with her hair slightly more tamed and in a ponytail. She looks to have changed from her sleepwear to loungewear, sporting the ridiculously comfortable pants Loki has learned are called sweatpants and a shorter, cropped top. Her socks are still mismatched.

She looks at Loki, and with a start he realizes he is still on the ground. Loki Laufeyson is on his knees before a mortal, in the midst of wiping away his own blood from the floor.

Damn.

His throat tightens as he feels his anger rising, pulsating throughout his entire body. He scorches her with a glare, daring her to comment on his situation. He swears, Norns be damned, he will kill her. Regardless of the consequences, he will kill her if she says anything. Loki doesn’t care if he is condemned to spend another century on Midgard as penance, he will silence her. He opens his mouth, about to make his threat clear, but she speaks first.

“Well. I told Thor he would bleed. Did the big idiot leave you to clean up his mess?” She tilts her head at Loki, and he hates the way she is still looking down at him, hates the way one of her hands are on her hips, hates the way he can see a sliver of skin peeking out from between her clothes. “I specifically told him we wouldn’t clean up his blood.”

Loki bites down his retort. Angel doesn’t sound mocking, but rather sympathetic. He doesn’t need sympathy from a mortal. He finally rises and approaches her, looming over her smaller frame. “Get out,” he says, voice halfway between a whisper and a rasp. “There is no ‘we’ with you and I, and you will do well to remember that.”

Angel holds his glare for a second, but then turns away, and Loki waits for her to flee. Instead, she grabs the soap sitting next to the sink and holds it out to Loki. “Alright then, Your Highness. Have fun.”

Loki’s hand reaches towards the soap and his fingers brush hers. Her fingers are soft, just like her hands, and Loki wonders if her soul is as fragile as her physical body. Loki hates soft things.

With that, Angel leaves the kitchen a second time, and Loki is left to wipe his own blood off the floor, alone.

______________________________

He can’t get her out of his head.

The woman who was so damnably soft occupies Loki’s thoughts and he hates it. He hates how he can perfectly recall the color of her eyes, her scent, the way her skin felt against his own. He hates how she saw him kneeling on the floor.

Loki is sitting on his bed, just after rejecting Thor’s persistent invitations to go down to dinner. Thor insists it’s ‘bonding time,’ that ‘all are welcome,’ and ‘everyone would love to see him there!’ Loki isn’t an idiot. He knows what the others say about him. They don’t realize that Loki can hear their hostile whispers from across the room — and even if they did, Loki doubts they would stop.

His mind wanders back to the girl. Would she join in on their gossip? Do they trust her? Who is she?

Thor had seemed familiar and friendly with Angel, but Loki knew nothing of her. He could detect no magical presence surrounding her, and she did not look as toned or threatening as the Widow. From all he could gather, she had no place here. Yet, she was obviously a welcome occupant of the tower. Loki was intrigued, and he felt a begrudging curiosity surrounding her grow.

What was her history? Why wasn’t she here when he arrived?

Loki is distracted from his thoughts by his stomach, which alerts him of its discomfort. Loki has not eaten anything since the half sip of Thor’s smoothie, and hunger has begun to fester within himself. But Loki cannot get food yet. No, he must wait until dinner is over until he can go downstairs and snoop through the refrigerator for anything suitable. He has learned that this made everyone more comfortable. The Avengers could pretend he did not live with them, and Loki could avoid the hateful and tense environment that accompanied him wherever he went. Really, the hunger he feels is insignificant. He has dealt with much more, and he knows from experience he can go many moons without sustenance.

It’s past midnight when Loki finally ventures downstairs. He enters the kitchen without a sound and doesn’t bother turning on the lights. Loki had no need for light — he much preferred the darkness anyway. He walks towards the refrigerator, hoping that perhaps he could find some of the takeout left over from last week’s movie night. Ah, but Stark had thrown out the takeout yesterday. Loki just hoped that he could find something fresh then — but not too fresh, in case the others still desired it.

But as Loki opens the refrigerator door, he is surprised. On the top shelf, placed on the left edge, is a plate covered carefully with plastic wrap, a bright green sticky note plastered on top. He isn’t unfamiliar with the practice: reserving leftover dishes as one’s own. He found it childish, really, but he never took anything that was claimed — no unnecessary hostility was needed, and he was familiar with the screaming matches that often took place when claimed items disappeared. What he is unfamiliar with is the name on the sticky note.

Loki , it says, with a crudely drawn illustration of what is unmistakably his horns, followed by a smiley face.

Loki looks around, waiting for whoever had placed this cruel joke to pop out of the darkness and laugh at him, but there is no movement. Eyes narrowed, he scrutinizes the note. It’s not a script he recognizes, and he deduces it must belong to the woman — to Angel.

Carefully, he takes the plate and uncovers it, the smell of the food wafting through the air. Loki recognizes the scent as the dish the Captain made earlier that day. His mouth waters, unwillingly, and Loki cannot recall the last time he consumed food so freshly prepared. His fingers toy with the edges of the plate, debating whether or not to permit himself this pleasure.

He decides that yes, since the woman had clearly set aside food for him, it would be an insult to ignore it. Not that Loki particularly minded insulting his roommates, but again — the less hostility, the better. And if it ends up as part of an elaborate trap, well then Loki can say that he expected it.

He takes the food back to his quarters, and Loki truly enjoys a meal for the first time since he was still a Prince of Asgard.

He hates that he enjoys it.

He hates soft things.

And most of all, he hates Angel.

______________________________

Just because you are soft doesn't mean you are not a force. Honey and wildfire are both the color gold.

- Victoria Erickson

______________________________

Next Chapter

#loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x reader #loki series #the hell in your eyes #thiye #loki x you #friends to enemies to lovers #reader insert #loki fic

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fangirling-is-my-passion · 3 years ago

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*Salted Caramel*(Steve Rogers x Platonic!Reader)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and a very, very complicated parents-child relationship (I don’t know how to write warnings, I’m so sorry).

Summary: You have an anxiety attack one day and the First Avenger comes to the rescue. In a fatherly way, just to clarify, hehe.

A/N: Eeehh, I have no clue if any of this makes any sense, haha, but I’m not gonna lie, I wrote the fic I desperately needed, so anyways I hope you enjoy it, my lovelies. Also, know that if you ever need anyone to talk to, my dms are always open. :)

You were the newest member of the Avengers and, although you’d only been part of the team for a couple of months, everybody had welcomed you with open arms. Nonetheless, you didn’t have as much opportunity to interact with them as you would’ve wished to, since you, not only being the newest member but also the youngest, still lived with your parents. Everybody had agreed that that was fine as long as you attended training sessions at the compound three times a week, which your parents agreed to. And now, even though you’d celebrated your 18th birthday a week ago, your living situation hadn’t changed much. At least not so far.

In spite of it all, the team had quickly embraced your presence in their lives and you felt more comfortable and at home with them than you’d ever felt with any of your relatives, including your parents. As a matter of fact, you didn’t really feel at home with your parents at all. Due to some issues from the past that had had its peak only a few months ago, the effect in the present was that your trust in them had broken completely and, even though you’d tried to fix the relationship several times along the years, the truth was that your parents kept letting you down constantly, making the damage irreparable by now.

This had taken a toll on your mental health and your anxiety had worsened a lot lately, nevertheless, telling your parents about it was obviously out of the question, and you didn’t want to bother the group of superheroes with such insignificant problems like yours. The world was in their hands, and in yours now too, you couldn’t make so much fuss about something like that.

Until the day you reached your breaking point.

Which sounds very dramatic, yet if you thought about it too much, you’d been through a lot worse before.

The circumstances and its specific details are irrelevant, the point is that, while you and your mother were having lunch, you had quite an intense anxiety attack. The kind you hadn’t had in a considerable amount of time.

Your hands started sweating, your heart began pounding inside your chest, making you feel like it could burst out of your ribcage at any given moment. Your breathing became shallow and quick, your lungs always asking for more air to breathe in, and a weird sensation that felt very much like losing ground and any sort of control over your life and yourself invaded you. At one point you even thought you’d pass out, but fortunately you didn’t.

You had to get out of there, fast.

So you told your mother that oh, crap, you’d just now remembered that you had a training session with the Avengers that afternoon, so you really had to get going. And without another word, not even waiting for a response from her, you took your phone and nothing more, and exited the house.

Once outside you walked aimlessly, trying to get as much air into your lungs as you could in an attempt to calm down. A million thoughts were rushing through your head, making you feel slightly dizzy, but you tried with all your might to concentrate on your inhalations and exhalations. After several minutes, you started feeling the tension in your whole body loosen up a bit, your breathing becoming steadier and your train of thoughts no longer on the verge of crashing. However, you still felt the urgent need to talk to somebody. Yes, the last thing you wanted to do was bother any of the earth's mightiest heroes with your problems, but this really seemed to be the last straw for you.

Therefore, you unlocked your phone and called the first person you could think of.

“(Y/N)?” Steve Rogers’ voice called from the other side of the line.

“Uh… Hi.” you said hesitantly, with a remaining shakiness in your voice that certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Steve.

��Are you okay? What’s wrong?” he asked preoccupied, and you could almost picture the expression on his face: the furrowed brows, the worry reflecting in his blue eyes.

“I, um, I’m… I’m fine, I just… I just needed to talk to someone. I’m sorry, I shouldn't be bothering you with this.”

“No, no, you’re not bothering at all. What happened? Where are you, at your house?”

“Umm, no, not exactly, I’m… I’m a couple of blocks away, but…”

“Oh, okay. Do you want me to go there, or maybe meet somewhere, so we can talk?”

“I-,” tears started gathering in your eyes, making everything around you blurry, but you weren’t exactly crying out of sadness, “I don’t want to be a burden, really, I’m so sorry, I just wanted to hear your voice…” you mumbled, your voice cracking.

“(Y/N), you’re not a burden. Whatever happened, if it’s important to you then it’s important to me, okay? We can talk. Just tell me where and I’ll be on my way.”

“Why are you being so nice to me? You barely know me…,” you sniffled, tears rolling down your cheeks now, a sign of how moved you were by Steve’s kindness. He didn’t have to do all that, leave the compound to go meet with you somewhere, to listen to a problem that had nothing to do with him, but he was willing to do it nonetheless.

“Because I care for you. Even if you haven’t been part of the team for as long as the rest of us, you are family now. And families are always there for each other,” he stated softly but with determination.

“Thank you…,” you whispered, feeling like not all the thank you’s in the world could express how grateful you were to the man. “Um, well, there’s�� There’s a small coffee shop relatively near here, I guess we could… we could meet there… if it isn’t much trouble,” you added.

“Sounds good. Can you send me the address?”

“Sure.”

“And text me when you get there, all right?”

“Yeah, I… I will. Thank you, Steve. Really.”

“Don’t worry about it, kiddo.” You smiled to yourself, feeling another wave of tears coming up. “And, hey,” he added, “it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

_________________________

Minutes later, you were at the coffee shop, sitting at a small table for two by the window. It was a lovely place you’d discovered at the beginning of the year, one day you were wandering aimlessly around your neighbourhood. The food was quite tasty in general, and both the place and the people who worked there gave off a very warm and cosy vibe, the type you only feel during Christmas, sitting in front of the fireplace with a cup of hot cocoa in your hands.

You’d already texted Steve to let him know you’d arrived, and now all you had to do was wait for him to get there. According to him, he was just about to.

And it was true, because a moment later you saw the tall, blond-haired man enter the establishment and search for you with his eyes. He finally spotted you, and you were able to notice, even from a distance, how his expression softened, while he made his way towards you.

“Hey,” you muttered standing up, still ashamed that you’d made the superhero travel all the way there for such a mundane reason.

“Hey,” he greeted you back with a soft smile, before sitting down on his chair, prompting you to do the same, “so… What happened, kiddo?”

You sighed. “Well, I just… I, um… may or may not have had… um, an anxiety attack…,” you could feel your face heating up due to the embarrassment you felt by admitting it to somebody else. An anxiety attack. Pfff. It felt so absurd now, making such a big deal out of it when there were clearly more important things…

“An anxiety attack?” Steve asked, tilting his head to one side in that particular way of his. His ocean eyes were overflowing with kindness, and that single-handedly was more than enough to make you want to cry again. Your heart was definitely not used to such a level of sympathy.

“Yeah…,” you breathed, your eyes starting to water up once more.

“Does it happen to you very often?”

“Umm, not exactly, I don’t know… It’s… It’s been happening with more frequency lately, but… I-I don’t know, it’s… it’s complicated. I mean,” you sighed again, “I’ve… I’ve lived my whole life... with anxiety and, well, I know there isn’t an actual cure for it, but I’ve… I’ve learnt to handle it, more or less, it’s just…”

At that moment, a waiter walked up to your table and asked if you wanted to order anything. You wiped the few tears that had escaped your eyes as discreetly as you could, hoping the waiter wouldn’t notice anything. As a matter of fact, you were embarrassed by letting yourself cry in front of Steve too, but at this point you couldn’t really help it. The superhero looked at you inquiringly.

“Have you eaten already? Do you want anything?”

“Um, yeah... yeah, I have… Uh… no, I don’t know... if you want anything… I can tell you that the salted caramel frappe is really good,” you offered him a small smile.

“Is that so?” He smiled too. “Well… I’ll have one if you have one. If that’s okay.”

You chuckled lightly. “Okay. It’s a deal.”

“All right then, two... salted caramel frappes? Please.”

“Sure,” the waiter wrote it down on his notepad and gave you both a warm smile, “I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you,” you and Steve said in unison.

“So,” he began, “you said your anxiety attacks have been happening more frequently lately. What do you mean lately? Is there a specific reason? Is it because of the Avengers?”

“What? No, no, not at all, you’re actually kind of my escape from everything… Umm, it’s complicated…,” you let out another sigh and proceeded to explain the situation to Steve, at first hesitantly, but after a while you were capable of talking a bit more freely.

You told him about your parents, about how you no longer felt at home in your own house and how the trust you ever had on your mother and father had been broken. How the comfort they were supposed to provide you was long gone and, in spite of your past efforts, it always ended unfavourably. It wasn’t easy, not in the slightest, nevertheless, as you kept talking, you could feel a heaviness being lifted from your shoulders, one that you didn’t even know was there in the first place. And, yes, the possibility of things ending badly even now was still there, but Steve’s expression, his whole energy made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t felt for way too long. So you might as well give it a try and get this off your chest once and for all.

Not long after you started talking did your beverages arrive and you both thanked the waiter before you continued.

He listened to you attentively. Never interrupted you, waited patiently for you to go on every single time you paused to take a breath or sigh or calm yourself down, never pushing you to keep talking. His furrowed brow reflected his worry for you, but it was in an understanding and serene way. He was glad you were finally telling all this to somebody and felt honoured that from all people you’d trusted him. He was perfectly aware that you were opening up to him and the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel like your emotions were invalid or unimportant. So he kept listening until you finished, and then waited a few seconds more, letting you sip on your frappe, before he spoke.

“I gotta ask, is that the reason why you go to the compound more than the necessary three times a week?”

Touché. You’d been constantly lying to your parents, telling them you had training sessions almost daily, or making random yet believable excuses so you could get out of your house and spend more time with the people who actually made you feel good.

You simply nodded to confirm Steve’s suspicions.

“It’s okay, (Y/N), I understand, I really do. Families can be tough sometimes, and people may disagree with what I’m about to say, but you don’t really owe your parents anything, especially after the way they’ve made you feel. It might sound like a bold stance, particularly for someone as old-fashioned as me, but as the saying goes “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb”. You’re not obliged to like your parents, let alone if they have had abusive conducts towards you. Now, in addition to that, it doesn’t have to be a greek tragedy for it to be valid. If something makes you feel bad or uncomfortable in any way, if it hurts you, then it does and that’s it. Other’s don’t get to say whether they hurt you or not, only you do,” he made a pause, pondering what to say next, ”Maybe someday your relationship with your parents can be rescued, or maybe not. Both things are fine, as long as it’s what makes you feel better. For now, however, I think we should find a quick and satisfactory solution to the problem, so why don’t you come live in the compound with all of us? You’re an adult now, you don’t need your parents’ permission,” the blue-eyed man offered you a sweet lopsided smile full of warmth, a tiny hint of fear that went unnoticed by you sparkling in his eyes, since he wasn’t sure of what impact his words had had on you. He was hoping he’d said the right thing, but he was terrified of the possibility that he’d screwed up.

Nevertheless, his fear couldn’t be further from the truth. Steve’s speech had reassured you profoundly, reinforcing that sense of safety of yours that had already started to develop around him and the rest of the Avengers. You lacked words to express how grateful you were towards him, but this man would always have your eternal gratitude. Needless to say, tears were streaming down your cheeks as quietly as you could keep them, your heart overwhelmed by the tenderness and the understanding he was offering you.

“I-,” you began, but your sobs became too much for you to contain and you broke down crying. Still, you tried to articulate your thoughts as best you could,” I’m sorry, it’s just… nobody had ever been so understanding with me and… and had ever comforted me so much in my life… you’re being so kind to me I… I honestly can’t thank you enough… I don’t even know what to say, I’m so sorry, I’m so lame...”

“You’re not,” Steve assured you softly, placing his hand over the one you had on the table. How were you supposed to stop crying if everything he did filled you with a sensation of comfort you’d lost a long time ago?

“Thank you,” you sniffled, wiping your tears clumsily with your free hand, “Thank you. And… yeah, I’d… I’d absolutely love to live with all of you at the compound. But will it be okay for everybody?”

“Of course! I told you, you’re part of the family now. We would all love to have you there with us, kiddo. We simply have to tell Tony, he’s the one in charge of that sort of stuff. And, of course, let your parents know. If you want, we can go to the compound right now and tell him. I’ll be there with you if you need me to. Both with Tony and with your parents.” Steve gave you a loving smile. His heart felt so relieved now knowing that his words hadn’t been a mistake.

“Okay, yeah… That… That would be nice. I told my mother I had a training session, so she won’t expect me to be back until later.”

“All right then, perfect,” he said, before taking another sip of his frappe, which had been reduced by half by now. Yours was almost untouched, but only because you’d been too busy speaking. Or crying. Or both. “By the way,” he added, “you were right, this thing is really good.”

You giggled. “I’m glad you liked it.”

Steve motioned the waiter to ask for the bill and once it was paid (he of course didn’t let you pay for your drink no matter how much you insisted), you both stood up from your seats, grabbing the remains of your frappes.

“Steve,” you called, making him turn back to look at you attentively once again, “thank you. So, so much. For everything,” you expressed with as much sentiment and gratitude as you were capable of. He was definitely the best man you’d ever met in your life. And that was saying something, having in mind that you’d met all the Avengers.

“Come here,” Steve said with a smile, his arms open, asking for a hug. You did as you were told, a wide smile now plastered on your lovely face. Yeah, it was a bit swollen from the crying, but it was still lovely.

To be honest, all you wanted to do at that moment was to keep hugging him and never ever let go; nonetheless, you knew that wasn't possible and eventually you'd have to break the hug. So for now, you breathed deeply, inhaling Steve’s scent (he smelled like bar soap and clean laundry, with a small touch of cinnamon), and you let yourself enjoy every second of that warm and strong embrace, and its newly found feeling of home.

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anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

WINSoD - Pt.5

If One Should Fall...

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2, part 3)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 3120

Summary: In which distribution of forces on the stones-retrieving mission changes. Because— reasons.The reason being a special visit someone pays you.

Warnings!: skip to post-Infinity War and the summary of it - you can imagine; deaths, violence....briefly tho, + language, mention of the inability to bear children, brief suicidal thoughts, kinda religious motives because SPN

A/N: Enormous time skip, because obviously CA:CW didn’t happen and the timeline is changed from canon already. Also, the title (What I’d Never Say or Do had I been in my right mind) is reeeeeally applicable in this one and somehow… it felt right to connect the chapters like this. Do not murder me…?

Part 4

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Forever was a funny word. A funny concept, perhaps. People always said they wished for some moments to last forever and what they meant was for them to last as long as possible, with no change in sight. Or they said that something unpleasant felt like it lasted forever, their souls craving an end of the misery, a fundamental change as the polar opposite to the first case.

You lived through both in the past years.

Sitting on your ass in a Wakandian palace, watching a battle unfold in front of you, an ensemble of great warriors fighting yet another army from space, that felt like forever, a never-ending nightmare and you only got to watch.

It set a pattern for you for several more years to come. To only watch.

You watched an alien creature steal the sceptre that the Avengers had decided to store in the palace and it did so while killing everything in its way. Princess Shuri had the great idea of hiding you and cuffing you so you wouldn’t stand in the creature’s path while she tried to stop it with the others. She ended up in shattered glass, only unconscious, as if thanks to a miracle.

You watched as… as she fell apart to ashes only minutes later; just like many, oh so many others.

Half of the population, they said.

Thanos, The Mad Titan, had wiped half of all living creatures.

The moment was carved into your brain forever. And the eternal time you waited for anyone to come back from the battle, to see Steve alive, because God, please, let him live – yes, that sure as hell felt like forever too.

Lives were lost. Bucky, Sam, Ryan, Wanda, Pietro, Peter, Shuri, T’Challa, Strange, Fury… the list went on and on. All of them, gone. Forever.

The world changed. Avengers ow officially didn’t exist and yet recruited new members all over the freakin’ space, which was the only way of finding out Tony Stark, who had disappeared on a spaceship, in fact, survived.

The missions of the greatest defenders of Earth changed as well. Some members took off to start a family, lucky enough to still have a partner to do so. Or to have the ability to pass their genes.

You couldn’t. Or maybe Steve couldn’t, it didn’t matter. You never pried after the source of your inability to have children; you two were one, a unity. You didn’t want to know so you could point fingers. You could tell Steve blamed himself, as well as he knew that your irregular period was definitely not helping. You made your peace. In fact, you admired Tony for finding the courage to create an environment for a child in this mad world; your lack of faith in being able to do the same had the opportunity rose ironically helped you to come to terms with the fact of your body was not functioning right.

In a way, it only drew you and Steve closer. You had valued each other before, yes, but now… you truly were like one. You backed him up in how he decided to honour Sam’s memory by starting a support group and he was the one to sense that in a search for reassurance, strangely materialistic, you craved an official bond with him, despite never saying a word.

You were Steve’s wife now – and you were each other’s rock, even during the poor attempt at defeating Thanos again.

Five years was a long time, a forever, one might say, but when Scott Lang, one of the people believed to been dusted, reappeared, forever and never became relative again.

Which led you to now; what was left of the Earth’s mightiest heroes was planning on retrieving the infinity stones.

Because they figured out how to time-travel.

Observing your reflection in the mirror, the circles under your eyes, you couldn’t but run your hand down your face and sigh.

You were still struggling with accepting the incredible fact of the possibility of coming back in time, yet you had to shush the hope inside you. Hope was a dangerous thing; certainly on such big scale as everything could being as it had been, hope that all the people who had lost their lives during the Snap could be resurrected.

As for a person who in fact had died once, it was easier for you to believe it was possible and you weren’t sure that it was a good thing. The fear of losing what you still had – read Steve, mainly – in the process, was paralyzing. It would mean your end, one you might deliver by yourself if it came to it, because you weren’t as strong as your husband. You wouldn’t make it through. Not after everything that happened.

You sighed again and tried to shake off the darkest thoughts.

When your eyes fell on the reflection again, a man stood behind your shoulder.

You spun on your heels and jerked away, your bottom bumping into the sink with a startled yelp escaping your lips.

In a fraction of second, several ways of defending yourself flashed through you mind; but the man was already three feet away; in a blink of an eye, before you could even move further.

Chest heaving with frantic breaths, hand over your heart, you stared at the intruder dressed in a three-piece suit and a red cravat. Of average height and maybe few pounds over healthy weight, smoothly shaven so his smirk could stand out, he looked… peculiar, especially given the fact he had found himself in the ladies’ room.

It shouldn’t have surprised you he spoke up with some kind of an accent on top of everything, but it did.

“Saving the world is exhausting, isn’t it?”

You stared at him, speechless. Your brain kicked into an overdrive, analysing how much of a threat he was, if he was like Pietro, too fast for Friday to catch him, or what was he-

“Who the-“

“I’m Crowley, darling. And you don’t need look so scared. If I wanted you dead, you’d be already lying here in a puddle of blood,” he reassured you like a sleazy businessman, all pretence at kindness.

You winced at the visual and narrowed your eyes.

“Alright, Crowley, what do you want? And what exactly are you?” you demanded, uncertain why you felt calm despite the man appearing out of thin air and speaking of you dying in the bloodiest way. Were you truly so numb these days?

He smiled, as if he was old friend. “I am a friend of Moose and Squirrel-“ What. “-or Sam and Dean, as you know them. I have no doubt they mentioned me. After all, my mother is assisting them more than she would like. You met her, incidentally.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure it out – you hadn’t met many people during your time with the Winchesters. This man… was probably a warlock. A witch. Rowena apparently had a son.

Well. Shit.

“Okay. So… you’re a witch or something. Means I shouldn’t trust you fully. Noted. Now what do you want?”

His face twisted in a theatrical insulted grimace, his palm laid on his chest as if you just shot him through the heart – which, by the way, would probably do nothing to him.

“First of all, I am here to help, so I don’t think you have other option than trusting me. Second of all, I am not a witch, I am the King of Hell, thank you very much-“

Somewhere in the back of your mind, Sam Winchester’s voice whispered something about the King of Hell having been Dean’s bestie for a while, which did not make you feel any better, only more confused.

“And thirdly… I’m here to tell you what you, my darling, need to do for this mission to be successful.”

You stared at him incredulously, his casual stance and animated speech bewildering, and had no clue what to make of it.

Yet, you let him speak. You let him give you the advice no one ever wanted to receive. Ever. But this sleazy man had told you about how he had saved the world before, side by side with the Winchesters and everything suddenly made sense.

Crowley, the King of Hell, answered the most burning question you had been asking yourself ever since coming back from the death, doing so more and more often these days.

Why.

Why were you given the second chance at life? Why you of all people? What was the purpose?

And now you knew.

Rowena was the greatest witch the supernatural world had ever created and she supposedly looked through all the possible futures she could. Tony had once told you, drunk and hurting, that Strange had done the same right before the battle and he only saw one way of how it could end with Thanos’ loss. Now Crowley told you the ‘one’ future was still in play, that everything was actually still on the way to the world’s victory.

The price of victory was high. History had taught you that.

But the price people paid for losing was higher.

And as much as you hated what you apparently had to do…

“Okay,” you rasped, guilt already gnawing at your chest, tears strolling down your face, fear eating you up from the inside, fear of unknown and yet known, instincts fighting the urge to do the right thing and finally actually help to the heroes you found yourself among while still useless.

You were only watching too long. Forever, one might say.

“Okay?” he echoed, clearly surprised by your antics.

You only nodded, wiping away your tears and forcing your breathing to calm and steady. There was no way you could go back to the base of operating in the living room like this. You needed to be a fucking grown-up. Grown-ups had to be okay with not being okay. You must finally become worthy of being Captain Amer- Steve’s wife.

“Yes, Crowley. I’ll do it. Though I still have no idea why you came here to tell me. Aren’t you supposed to be the bad guy?” you teased him lightly, your mouth speaking its will without permission, the question only half-expecting an answer.

“Well, my darling. It’s the end of the world as we know it. It doesn’t matter now if you’re good or bad. Not if you want the world not to end.”

༻༺༻༺༻ღ༺༻༺༻༺

You were a terrible actress; a Razzies-nominee kind of actress. You couldn’t lie to save your life (the irony of such statement was not lost on you, yet it wasn’t properly appreciated either) and you were aware of the fact that Steve liked that about you. You could never lie to him. So you never tried.

You knew you couldn’t break that streak now, because he would see right through you. So you stooped lower than ever. Omitting the truth. Lying by not sharing the whole story. Whether you could make that work, only time would tell.

When you finally managed to compose yourself – at least more or less – and exited the bathroom, you found out that not much had changed. The team was still debating the details of best approach, uncertain but determined expressions on their faces.

Steve spared once glace at you and instantly was able to tell something was wrong. He hid you from the view of the others by his broad figure, concerned eyes scanning your face, observing and searching for any clue; for the source of your distress. As if the fact that they were – you all were, even if they didn’t know yet – about to time travel wasn’t enough to give one palpitations and serious stress-induced headache.

His tender fingers tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear as if it would help the mess your hairstyle must have been. A small encouraging smile graced his lips despite his own mind no doubt weighted down by numerous worries.

He didn’t have to ask for you to start talking, the brilliant colour of his eyes sweet and inviting enough.

“What if something goes wrong?” you questioned in a hushed whisper, not having to pretend to have such haunting thought. “What if… I don’t even want to think about what could it be. You’re going to need someone capable to pull you out. I am… I am not that capable. Definitely not when it comes to science of time-travel.”

Despite Steve acting like a human shield, your concerns were acknowledged by everyone, their heads snapping your direction. Steve, feeling all the curious eyes, cleared his throat and gently took your arm, leading you away from the prying ears.

“….excuse us for a second,” he hummed absently, waiting until he was out of earshot to speak with you again. “Doll… what- what is this really about?”

“What do you mean-“ you bluffed lamely in an instant, but the look Steve gave you shut you up.

“I know you, sweetheart. You can’t lie to me.”

If you weren’t dreading what you were about to do, you might throw a ‘watch me’ back at him. Instead, you aimed for an irritated tone – one that would be justified in case he would truly be questioning the claim you were about to point out.

“So you think I’m not afraid for you?”

A frown crossed over his face, his palm on your bicep tightening before he eased his hold to brush his thumb over the very same spot. “No! That’s not- I just know there’s something more. What is it?”

Gulping and averting his gaze, because the intense burn of genuine concern was unbearable, your mind raced with the effort to find the right words.

Your stomach was tied in tight knots, turning at the idea of playing Steve, more so for such nefarious purpose. But how else you could have convinced him that it couldn’t in fact be him and Natasha going to Vormir to retrieve the soul stone?

“I… I want to help. I need to help, Steve. You’re— you're so strong, always the hero and I’m not even close, I-“

“-need to prove my worth?” he finished easily, a knowing look in his eyes, and fuck him, how did he know—

He might not understand fully, he had no way of knowing what Crowley told you to do, but still, Steve was still able to recognize what fuelled your determination, what were your motives.

You opened your mouth uselessly, a shaky exhale brushing Steve’s face as he lowered his head to you, his eyes wide and genuinely troubled. God, you couldn’t bare the intensity of his gaze.

“Christ, doll. Where’s this coming from? Don’t be rid-“ From the corner of your eye, you saw him lick his lips as he swiftly cut himself off before calling you ridiculous. His large warm palms framed your face, forcing you to lock your gaze with his, passionate words accented by the burning fire of his irises. “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. Not to them, certainly not to me. You are my everything and you are the most amazing person I have ever met-“

You closed your eyes, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite your better judgement. You never doubted Steve’s feelings, yet he was always quick to reassure you, having the patience of a saint whenever he noticed a hint of insecurity.

“I know. I swear I know that, I know how you feel, but- let me do this. What if… what if you don’t come back? What if you don’t come back and I’d be just sitting here, knowing I could have done something, but I didn’t. You’re too familiar with that feeling, Steve. Please. Let me come with you,” you pleaded in a hushed voice, hating you reminded him of losing you, but knowing it might be effective. “You know you can protect me when it comes to it.”

Brows drawn together, Steve observed you, baffled and yet understanding at the same time, torn between the instinct to have you protected at the compound and the responsibility he felt towards this mission. This was the fight of your lives; deep down, he must have known he couldn’t afford to jeopardize that even if it came to you. Which, naturally, didn’t mean he had to like it.

A clearing of one’s throat that sounded a bit like a clap of thunder interrupted your staring contest and you both glanced towards Bruce’s huge green form in the doorway, sheepish expression comical on his massive face.

“…sorry to interrupt, but… we kinda all think she has a point so-“

Steve’s sucked in air between his teeth, letting his hands drop from you face, only for one of them to run through his hair, the other balling in a fist.

You shrugged, the battle of emotions – victory and defeat at the same time, because God, why – no doubt visible on your face as Steve turned his attention solely to you once more.

“I’ll give you guys another sec…” Bruce hummed, backing out of the door, leaving you to deal with clearly irritated and reluctant Steve.

Thanks, buddy.

Wordlessly, Steve’s fingers slipped beneath your jaw, pulling you in for one of the strangest kisses of your life. H poured all his emotions into one simple gesture, hungry and intense, intimate wet sound of a dirty encounter of mouths echoing in the otherwise silent room. You allowed yourself to get lost in the sensation of Steve’s lips on yours, in his arm grabbing you and pressing flush against his hard chest; it was all too harsh for anyone to believe it was not a display of affection of a half-desperate man.

Breathless and with vertigo nearly overcoming you, you rested your forehead against Steve’s, mirroring his action once you parted. His eyes were closed shut, as if too heavy to kept open, but you could see that something in his expression shifted; you and Bruce won.

Peripherally, you noticed Crowley’s faint figure, the shortest of appearances as he nodded in approval and goodbye. You suspected he did something so Steve gave in; you didn’t care what and how, hoping it didn’t harm your soulmate.

Tears stung in your eyes when you realized what was to come and you forced them to be kept at bay, shutting your eyes close again.

“Fine, have it your way,” Steve rasped, his voice clearly irked, yet resigned. “But if you get one scratch on you, doll, just one, I’ll hold you responsible.”

No, you won’t.

You charmed a guilty smile, a lame tiny thing, and he inhaled sharply, only for huffing the air out.

“How could I, having my chivalrous man by my side?”

It earned you a kiss on your forehead, Steve’s fingers interlacing with yours when you made your way back to the other room where everyone waited.

Oh, how much it now hurt, the amount of faith Steve could put into you, charmed by your teary smile, that little thing puling on his heartstrings.

Oh, just how much it would hurt…

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Part 6

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This chapter might seem a bit strange, but hopefully it fits the atmosphere of Infinity War and Endgame…

Thanks for being here. I love you for your encouragement :-*

P.S. Here, have the last part of a SPN guide - visuals and references for Amara (God’s sister who gave back ‘reader’s’ memories) and Crowley (from this chapter).

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