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forsakenmis · 3 years

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After the snap

Summary: Wanda was snapped away. You, on the other hand, remained and had moved on. You moved out of the country, started a new job, and had even gone on a few dates. Then everyone came back and suddenly a familiar witch was knocking on your workplace door.

Pairings: Top!Wanda x Reader

Warnings: dark!wanda, oral (r receiving), strap, public sex, posessive wanda, mummy kink

You’d long put away the shield (so to speak) and were at a point that going back to everyone just seemed so jarring. Maybe you didn’t want to believe it wasn’t true. After five years of grieving, of building a new life, and suddenly everyone’s just….back.

Wanda was back.

You knew it was wrong to have not contacted her. For her, it must seem like yesterday that you were whispering your plans about eloping, but that was five years ago. You moved on. Found someone else. She was nice, sweet, normal. She worked as a custom officer but she could spend hours and hours talking about all these topics that fascinated you.

She also was very predictable and normal.

Admittedly, your relationship hadn’t quite been defined. You suspected she was seeing other people, keeping her options open, and you weren’t sure how long you two were going to last but you were enjoying the time that you had together.

On top of that, you had a job at a bookstore that paid your rent. Sure, it wasn’t as flashy as it was back then but you liked being surrounded by all the books, some new and some falling apart. You spent a lot of pride restoring the latter in the back. You never had much of a chance to read before everything happened, your life was mostly spent trying to make sure everyone didn’t die.

Your abilities were healing based and that was more useful than you had initially thought when you first met them all. In fact, you thought you were awfully inadequate compared to people like Steve Rogers, Thor and Wanda Maximoff. But your time was kept filled to the brim.

Your only time to relax was your time with Wanda.

It had started off innocent enough. She used to stay with you after you finished up in the medic bay. She’d have dinner with you. Admittedly, you were pretty sure she didn’t have many other friends in the complex. Then it grew until she was fucking you every chance she could get. How else would either of you relax?

But that was a long time ago. You were done with that life. You weren’t the same person anymore. You ran and started a new life and not even the idea of Wanda could make you go back and maybe she was just that–an idea.

You were confident none of them would find you. Natasha couldn’t. You knew she had been trying to track you down like she had for Clint but no one came knocking on your door. So if they couldn’t, you were pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to find you either.

You’d just closed shop, the sunset streaming through the shutters covering the windows, and were taking stock. It had been a quiet day, but it was always quiet on a Tuesday so you had easily reached the predicted quota. The one downside was your boss, but he was only around once a week.

He was the kid of some millionaire who was trying to be hip and all that. So he opened some urban bookstore but he was too busy partying to actually stay on top of the business. Which is fine-you liked that arrangement. You’ll keep the shop running and he’ll never be up in your business. It worked without a bump in the road.

You were nearly done for the day, all you had to do after was–

The bell attached to the door trinkled. Someone had walked in. It was nearly half past, well past closing, so surely your boss would understand if you told whoever it is to leave. You were behind the shelves, you couldn’t see who had walked in. They weren’t making a lot of noise. Some people just had that soft touch, usually women.

Coming out to the front, your mouth already opening to ask them to leave, your words died in your throat.

Wanda.

Your eyes were frozen on her face, her eyes, those big doe eyes that always drew you in. She was smiling, an expression full of relief, and she was taking you in, grazing your body, before she moved forward to close the distance.

You stepped back.

Frozen with the air changing. Heavier, like you could feel the gravity pulling you down. Her light, happy, expression melted off and confusion replaced it.

“Wanda,” you said, wanting to cut her off, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t listen to her. She’d want you to come back. Five years for you, a few days for her. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You may as well have slapped her.

“Shouldn’t be here?” Wanda repeated and you closed your eyes. For the first time in years, you heard her voice. That voice that whispered to you in your dreams. A voice you thought you could hear every time you were alone. “I think I’m exactly where I need to be.”

When you opened your eyes again, you jumped, she was right there. You didn’t even hear her footsteps. “Wan–” you began but then her lips were on yours, her tongue sliding into your open mouth and you grunted in shock. You didn’t kiss back but you didn’t push her off either. You froze. You let her tongue be pushed down your throat as her hands slid onto your cheeks.

Her thumbs beginning to rub small circles into your skin pushed you back into action, your hands going to hips to shove her off you hard enough that she stumbled back a few steps.

“Wanda, I can’t,” you hissed out. “It’s been five years. I…”

“Why aren’t you happy then?” Wanda asked, bewilderment splashed across her face and almost instantly did guilt wash through you. Like you were betraying her somehow. “I was gone for five years, and now I’m back. Why didn’t you come back? Surely, you didn’t move on that easily?”

With that, the guilt was gone.

“Easily?” You hissed out, your hands balling into fists, “don’t come into my shop and–”

You stopped. It was no use getting angry. Your sentences always fumbled into one elongated word that no one could ever understand. “You have no idea what the five years have been like,” you snapped and she tilted her head, just slightly, but enough that a cold chill went down your spine. “You shouldn’t have looked for me. I’m not interested in going back to the avengers. I moved on.”

With that, you turned on your heel to go behind the desk, tapping away at the register. Maybe if you ignored her, she’d get the hint and leave.

“So you developed an attitude?” Wanda remarked and slid her hands into the woollen cardigan that...you knitted her. You frowned when you made the connection. You spent hours labouring away at it. It wasn’t that good, the colours were awful, but she rarely took it off. “Seems we have to start at square one again.”

You frowned. You seem to be doing that a lot. You could already see the wrinkles beginning to form on your forehead. Why wasn’t she listening to you? “I’m seeing someone,” you blurted out as the cash register popped open loudly and Wanda’s face went blank as she registered what you just said. “A girl. She’s nice.”

You weren’t sure if you just signed this girl’s death certificate.

You kept eye contact with the Sokovian and even when her face morphed into a cold fury you hadn’t seen since the civil war. Her expression was tight and it almost looked like she was trying to hold herself back.

“I see.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a moment, “I...I know this can’t be easy for you either. I know it must seem like last week that...well. You know. I just...that life is over, for me at least. I hope you can understand.”

Wanda was silent. She was being too silent. She didn’t say anything, she stood there watching you, and you were too nervous to say anything else or make the next move. Maybe, hopefully, Wanda wouldn’t even say anything else, just walk out. Resent you for the rest of her life. It was better that way.

Instead she walked around the register and your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Wanda-”

“Shut up,” she hissed, her hand whipping up to grab your jaw. Your hands shot up to her wrists and she dragged you forward, closer to her face. “Do you really think I’d let you give up on us this easily? That I’d let you whore yourself out to some girl off the street?”

You didn’t say anything but your glare said enough.

“I trained you so well. I spent years breaking you in, years loving you, and you treat me like this? Like I’m just some common bitch you can throw onto the street?” Wanda’s tone didn’t match her words. Her tone was soft, almost a coo, sounding more disappointed than angry. You almost wished she was more angry than disappointed.

Her lips were on yours again and her hand moved to the back of your head, her teeth biting down into your lips and you groaned at the sharp pain, giving her entrance back into your mouth.

A hand went down between your legs, rubbing, and you instinctively opened your legs. Your body remembered her. Remembered her scent. Everything.

Wanda hummed in approval and soon you were being pushed onto the counter. She broke the kiss, pulling back to look down at you, her hands beginning to rub the inside of your thighs. “Just one night,” she whispered, her expression already having smoothed out, as if that kiss, your touch, was all she needed. “One night with me and if you still want me to leave by the end of the night...well, I’ll leave you alone. Forever. Even if you change your mind. Even if you come crawling back, begging.”

You doubted her. Something in the back of your mind didn’t believe her. On anything. You were pretty sure she wanted you to beg. Your hands were shaking and you gulped. Everything about this reminded you of when you were last happy. Like you were back in the avengers tower where nothing was going wrong.

Her lips were on yours again and her hands soon began to pull at your skirt, ripping them off you with ease, to find nothing but your bare cunt for anyone to see. You jerked up when her hand slammed against it, slapping it. Once, twice, three times, four. “You dirty little whore,” she whispered, “you let anyone and everyone see this, didn’t you?” She slid a finger into your folds and your bottom lip trembled.

“Wanda…” you whispered, feeling your own walls beginning to crumble. Maybe one night wasn’t so bad. One night. One indulgence.

“It’s mine tonight,” Wanda confirmed before suddenly her hands were on your waist and flipped you around and your stomach slapped onto the desk, taking away your breath, leaving you gasping. “You said I didn’t know what happened. In the past five years. You’re right, I don’t, but you’re going to tell me. Tell me everything I missed. If you leave anything out, and I know when you do sweetheart, I’ll stop. Understand me?”

“Yes,” you breathed out as you felt her mouth in between your legs, her tongue lapping at your clit and your back arched as you tried to push more of yourself into her. Soon, it started spilling out. What you did the first few months, how you struggled to get out of bed, how you travelled the world. Therapy. Everything. Her tongue didn’t stop, in fact the more you spilt, her tongue sped up, making you wetter and wetter by the second. “I couldn’t get you out of my head,” you mumbled by the end of it, “I found her. She was everything you weren’t. Mundane. Boring.”

Your stomach was tightening, that tempting release building and building, so expertly brought on by the way Wanda devoured you, the way she breathed onto your throbbing clit, the way her tongue teased your gaping entrance. When you stopped, she pulled away and you bit down onto your bottom lip to stop yourself from cursing.

“Such a good little whore for me,” Wanda purred, her hand falling in between your slit to rub your clit and the moan that left your mouth sacrificed any and all self respect that you might have been clinging onto. “This is where you belong isn’t it? Bent over for mummy. I treat you so well, don’t I?”

Two fingers dipped into your already gaping entrance pushing them in and out. “I think you deserve a little reward,” Wanda hummed out, “for being so honest with mummy.”

You didn’t have much long to prepare before you felt a strap push into your entrance and you gasped in a sharp breath, your eyes bulging and your body pressed forward. Wanda didn’t push into you completely, only pushed the tip in and out, focussing on the one area.

In truth, that was worse than if she shoved into you completely. You were forced to focus on that one area, not get that relief if she were to push in deeper, and it was as if she was grabbing at every inch of your mind, forcing you to feel nothing but that tip dipping in and out of your body.

“Tell me…” she whispered, her hands coming onto your waist to grip them, nails digging into your skin, “tell me where you belong, baby girl. Who you belong to. Look at you, five years without me and you still get so wet for me. I go in so easily. Don’t worry, baby, I’m not going to leave you again.”

“W-w-” you choked out and you took in a breath, trying to contain the moans slipping out of your mouth, “you said one–”

Her hand slammed down onto your bare ass and you jerked forward. Still, she didn’t go deeper, didn’t give you what you wanted. Still, you didn’t verbalise this. Your skin was stinging and your fingers reached up to hang onto the edge of the desk.

“Answer my question, don’t make me treat you like a common whore,” Wanda hissed, pulling out completely just to thrust back in, shoving more of the shaft inside of you, ripping your walls open, but then she pulled back to just the tip again.

Then the doorbell rang again and it was as if someone poured a bucket of ice cold water all over your body. Your vision was already blurring by this point but you could see her outline, the blonde hair, standing at the door.

Wanda slammed into you, bottoming out, and a scream shot out of your lips, whilst her hands were in your hair, pulling your head back until your neck was straining. She could see your face, see every expression you pulled as Wanda began to fuck you without restraint.

“If I were you,” Wanda’s voice broke through your moans and screams, icy cold and calm despite the way she was beginning to thrust inside of you, “I’d leave and never come back. If you knew what was good for you, you’d wipe my girl from everything. Phone, address, memories.”

You couldn’t hear what she said, you could hear her voice, but unlike Wanda, it was all a garbled mess. Even in this state, Wanda’s words were in absolute clarity. You watched her leave. The door clicked shut and you swore you could see red mist at the door, locking it.

Wanda bent over you, pressing down onto your back, lips pressing against your neck, sucking and nipping, her hips still pushing inside of you, pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm that was tightening at the base of your stomach.

Then her movements slowed until she was completely still, her strap still inside of you, your walls wrapped around it, clinging to it.

“Much better, just us,” Wanda whispered as she nipped at your earlobe and you moaned. “You take my cock so well, don’t you? No, I couldn’t dream of letting you go, not when you’re such a good girl for me. I’ll take you with me and I’ll give you the life you want. A normal life, where no one will ever hurt you. You can read all you want. Forget the world outside. Just us two, together.”

“Mummy,” you whispered and you could feel her body vibrate as she hummed in approval. “Mummy, please.”

“Tell me where you belong,” she whispered back as she began to move her hips again.

“With you, mummy, under you. I missed you so much,” you whispered, “I belong to you. I always have.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know you did,” Wanda whispered before she stretched up and her hands went to your elbows, pulling you up from the table before she began to rail you. Sharp thrusts, slamming into you again and again, and tears began to burn the back of your eyes as pleasure began to roll through you. “You're going to cum for me like a good girl. Then you’re going to lie on this table to wait as I go pack your bags. You live above this, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, mummy,” you choked out as your orgasm was already threatening to flow through you. You could feel your own juices dripping down your thighs and you knew that your boss would be walking in to find an absolute mess.

“And then we’ll leave. Together.”

“Together.”

It wasn’t long until you felt like you were choking on your breath, your stomach twisting and churning, your legs trembling, and it was Wanda keeping you up. Otherwise, you would have collapsed onto the table, even the ground.

Soon, you felt it. Felt that blissful euphoria that often put you to sleep wash over you in intense waves that made your toes curl. Wanda was laughing, quietly, as she felt you come undone around her strap. “That’s it, baby girl, let it all go. Good little whore.”

She slid out of you with a pop and you groaned, the disappearing sensation already sorely missed. “Mummy, please, I still need you…” you mumbled, your words drowsy and reality was folding inwards around you as you felt your body hit the table again.

“I’ll be back, in just a moment,” Wanda whispered into your ear before her warmth disappeared and you could hear her moving through the store and up the creaky stairwell. Then your eyes slid open and you took in a deep breath as you began to move. Pushed off the desk, your legs sore and shaky but stable, and you looked for the skirt, long discarded. You knew you only had a small amount of time before she realised or, god forbid, heard you. Pulling the skirt up you grabbed only your wallet, didn’t even dare grab your phone and risk being tracked. You can get a burner if need be. You knew it’d be difficult, if she found you here, then she’d be able to find you wherever you went but...maybe she’ll give up.

You didn’t go through the front door, not with the bell, but there was a small door leading out to the back. Your footsteps were silent as could be, and your heart was beating in your chest. One wrong step and she could hear you. You could hear the banging doors, even her humming, but she didn’t stop.

Soon, you were in the back alley, with nothing but overflowing bins and a motorbike there. Yours. The only thing you kept from Stark. Faster than anything you could buy in a store. You hated riding with a skirt, let alone with these shoes, but what choice did you have?

You only had so much time to run.

#wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda #wanda x reader #top!wanda #wanda maximov #misfitwrites

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egcdeath · 3 years

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second chances

pairing: softdark!steve rogers x reader

summary: you wake up on the side of the road with no memories, no possessions, and no place to go. luckily, an attractive stranger arrives just in time to help you out.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: there are some soft moments, but this is ultimately a dark fic!!! alluding to kidnapping, deceit, mention of knife, drugging, abuse (mostly mental/emotional, but implied physical), amnesia, brief alcohol mention, nightmares, mention of bodily harm, bed sharing **if i’m missing any warnings, let me know

author’s note: this is my first dark fic without a dark reader, so please be nice! it took me nearly a whole month to get it where i want it to be (i’m a slow writer, i know) but i’m actually pretty proud of this.

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

After what seemed like years of waiting, the opportunity finally lent itself, a small pocket knife sat right in your peripheral view. A dangerous mixture of adrenaline and impulse filled you, not even granting you the time to think before you were clumsily extending your arm, and wielding the knife.

The blade popped out, and you held it with a shaky hand in front of your captor.

“Really?” he scoffed, “you’re gonna kill me.”

There was no attempt on his part to stop you, in fact, he smiled and leaned back slightly.

Your whole body trembled at this point, you could barely form words, let alone move. But this was your chance.

“So do it, Y/N. Kill me,” his voice steadily rose as he approached you, long legs making their way across the room.

Before you knew it, he was standing in front of you, hand approaching your own. He wrapped it around your wrist and gripped down on you like a snake, causing you to emit a tiny yelp.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked, voice steady as your hands trembled around the grip.

“Exactly. You’re still as fucking pathetic as you were the day I met you,” a slap stung your left cheek, a mark that was sure to be there for the days following.

The knife clattered as it hit the linoleum floor, and you followed its path, crumbling on the floor and breaking into tear-less sobs.

“Remember this moment, sweetheart. You’ll never get a chance like this again,” he swooped up the knife before walking away from you, leaving a broken woman in his wake.

——

You went from experiencing nothing to everything all at once. Your brain seemed to be attempting to escape your head as it pressed against your eyes, and you struggled to open them, lashes feeling like they were glued together. Rain poured down on your head, and you concluded that it had been pouring on you for a while, as you were completely soaked to the bone.

As you looked at yourself and your body, a curled up and bruised mess on the side of the road, you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly happened to you, or at all. You weren’t even sure that you had memories apart from the ones that were processing in that exact moment. It was as if you’d exited the womb for a second time, clueless to where you were, who you are, or how you got there.

You shivered as you pulled yourself to your feet, weak ankles shaking in glittery heels and body trembling in a half-torn dress. Wherever you came from couldn’t have been good.

You slipped off the shoes and held them in your hands as you walked down the side of the deserted road, bare feet sloshing in mud as you did so. You didn’t have an idea where you were, or where the nearest sign of life was. You were tempted to walk on the soaked, petrichor scented road, but you knew that that wasn’t your best idea.

You truly had no good options. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go. No one to save you. You wanted to collapse back onto the ground, give into your screaming body that was becoming more and more tired by the moment. Hot tears began to slip down your face, contrasting the cold of the raindrops falling onto your body.

All hope was lost, you’d die any time now, and that would just be it. You looked up at the overcast sky and screamed at it, mentally begging for someone, anyone, to help. That you’d forever be grateful to god, or the universe, or whatever it was that was out there that put you in the situation you were in.

You screamed and sobbed until your throat was raw, and you weren’t sure you’d be able to produce any more sound, sitting down onto the damp ground and wishing for your inevitable death to be a swift and painless one.

Yet, your pity party was crashed just moments later by a beaming red light and the soft hum of a motor coming down the road. This was your one chance. Who knew when the next time you’d see a sign of human life was?

You jumped to your feet and waved your hands like a madwoman, trying to catch the attention of the male behind the driver's seat. He began to come to a stop, pulling over a bit to see you better.

His face was angelic, a strong jaw and soft eyes that looked like they had seen more than the average person. When he spoke, you felt heaven become drowsy with harmony. Or maybe you were just really tired. Regardless, your pleas to a higher power had proved fruitful, as your knight and shining armor had just pulled up beside you to save the day.

He rolled a window down, and you got closer to the door.

“Need a ride, ma’am?” he called.

You simply nodded and approached the vehicle, opening the door hesitantly. You sat down on the seat, and jumped a bit when you felt heat radiating onto the back of your thighs.

“I’m Steve. You?”

You chuckled awkwardly, “that’s a great question that I wish I could answer. It’s actually kind of a long story. Well, I assume it’s long since I can’t remember any of it. But maybe I will later. Nice to meet you anyway, Steve.”

He nodded understandingly, completely unfazed by your lack of name. Maybe he had prior experience with hitchhikers, as he was approaching this situation with a nearly suspicious calmness. “Well… where’re you heading?” the man asked, looking over at you.

“I, uh, I have no idea,” you said raspily, throat still sore from your previous screaming.

The blonde’s lip quirked at this, as if he were holding back a much bigger smile, “that’s fine. I’m heading a few towns away, but I was thinking of stopping and getting some breakfast. You interested in that?”

You shrugged, becoming slightly uncomfortable in the quickly dampening seat. Steve glanced over at you after putting the car in drive, and noticed your discomfort from your prior stay in the rain.

“We can stop by a bathroom first. I’ve got some extra clothes with me in the back,” he suggested. You nodded quietly, looking at the vast, and empty road ahead.

----

You sat in a diner booth dressed in a thick jacket and comfortable sweatpants that oddly enough, seemed to be exactly your size. Steve approached the table with an extra plate of fries, and set it gently in front of you.

“So you don’t remember anything?” he asked, stealing a fry before sitting down across from you.

You shook your head, bringing a salty fry to your mouth, “I swear I just woke up there. No memories, no nothing, no place to go. I mean, I was gonna die out there if you didn’t get me.”

Steve scoffed a bit at this, “that’s not true. I’m sure someone would’ve helped eventually.”

“Maybe. But I’m glad that it was you,” you looked up at him, and the fondness he was looking at you with was nearly suffocating.

Steve paused for a moment, mulling over his next words as if he was looking for the exact right thing to say.

“Would you like to stay with me? I mean, I know we just met each other, but I just have this feeling. Like I was meant to find you. Besides, it doesn’t seem like you have anywhere else to go.”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” you excused after a moment, popping out of the both and heading towards the ladies room.

You handled your business, and stared at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands. Makeup ran down your face, and it almost appeared that you were melting. Who would pick someone up in such a state? You had to question this Steve guy’s character a little bit. You couldn’t remember the exact phrase, but it couldn’t be smart to get into a car with a stranger. Especially a stranger offering to take you to some secret location with them. After all, he could be a murderer, a kidnapper, or a rapist. You would be none the wiser.

But he fed you, clothed you, and offered you a form of shelter. He couldn’t be too ill intentioned if he was willing to go out of his way to help, right? Maybe he just wanted to keep you off the streets, and that was why he was willing to take you to wherever it was that he was going.

Your stomach turned the longer you watched yourself, the longer you thought. Perhaps your intuition found that something was off. But who even knew if you could trust your intuition, after all, you were basically a day old, and you didn’t seem to have any other option.

——

You ended up going back out into the diner and accepting Steve’s offer. You didn’t really have much of a choice, and he wasn’t exactly a bad one.

Steve was quiet for the majority of your trip, only speaking when he noticed that you’d moved your sights from the window over to him. He didn’t seem to be a fan of the way you were studying him, but for some reason your eyes kept finding him.

Hours had passed in the day, and night was quickly approaching. You dozed as you watched the starry night from the passenger window. Your eyes were becoming heavier by the moment, hours worth of watching flat landscape, combined with the complexity of your day finally catching up to you.

——

Cold. You felt cold. The floor was cold. The blood running through your veins was cold. Your brain was cold and freezing, hindering you from properly processing what was going on in front of you.

A searing pain rolled through your body as you tumbled down the stairs, back into a room that was suffocatingly familiar.

“I should’ve never allowed you to leave. Ungrateful,” a faceless man followed you down the stairs and hovered over your now battered body. “I give you a home and you complain. I take care of you, giving you almost anything you could ever ask for. You complain. Do you know how many people would kill to be in your position? With someone like me taking care of them?”

“You told me you loved me, you goddamn liar. I let you come upstairs, and you try to fucking kill me. I should kill you,” he seethed, leaning down over you.

But I won’t.

The words were unspoken, but familiar. A threat uttered to you before, usually followed with an ‘I’ll make your life a living hell instead.’

You were unable to speak, as if someone had ripped out your vocal cords. Suddenly the faceless man was reaching down and holding the bloody organs in his hands. Your blood ran cold once again.

“You can’t even fathom the hell I want to release on you right now,” he continued, chest puffing out with exaggerated, angered breaths. “But I’ll be the bigger man. Because I love you,” he dropped the cords on the ground beside you, and your eyes flicked over to the mutilated part of yourself. “Y/N, I need you to prove to me that you love me.”

You wanted to beg, to plead and tell the man whatever he needed to hear in order to release you, but you were completely powerless.

The man hoisted you up with ease, and you soundlessly whimpered. He carried you into a small, plain room and set you on the flat, stiff mattress on the floor.

“Come on, Sweetheart. You know I’m doing this for us.”

The faceless man kissed your forehead, and the feeling of dread overtook you.

——

You awoke with a gasp, clawing at your own neck to make sure that your vocal cords were still intact.

“You alright?” Steve asked, glancing over at you. “Should I pull over?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” you whispered.

“Take some deep breaths for me, okay?” he advised, setting a reassuring hand on top of yours. “We’ll be at the hotel any minute now.”

——

Your nerves were absolutely fried by the nightmare. Your hands shook like leaves in the wind while you stood next to Steve as he checked you into your hotel room.

“How’re you doing?” he asked in the elevator, setting his large hand on top of yours once again. The gesture was calming, even if you felt a slight undermining feeling of something unsettling.

“A little better. I probably just need to lay down somewhere comfortable.”

Steve nodded and squeezed your hand, “you’ve had a long day. You have first dibs on the shower. Maybe it’ll help you relax.”

The smile that Steve was giving you was comforting. You felt glad that he was the person to have picked you up.

The elevator made a little ding noise before the doors opened, and he guided you to your room.

You made a beeline to the shower, not even taking the time to be impressed with the size of the hotel room, the amenities, or the quality of it. You just wanted to shed your clothes and find at least a moment of peace.

You exited the bathroom after about a half an hour, and walked out into the suite in just a towel.

“Can I borrow some more clothes?” you glanced over at Steve, who was openly checking you out from the comfort of the bed.

Wait, the bed.

There were way too many things going on for you to be focused on the fact that there was just one bed. Maybe Steve would offer to sleep on the sofa.

“Yeah, that’s fine. My teammate left some clothes in that smaller blue suitcase. It’ll probably fit,” Steve paused for a few moments as you found the aforementioned suitcase and looked for something comfortable that you could actually sleep in.

“Who did that to you?” he asked, gesturing at your bruised legs.

“I don’t… I don’t know. It’s all so blurry,” you sighed, settling on a fresh pair of sweatpants and a thin t-shirt. “I’ll be right back.”

You changed quickly in the residually steamy bathroom, and sat down at the foot of the bed.

“Do we need to have a fistfight over who gets to sleep in the bed?” Steve joked and you shook your head.

“I can sleep on the sofa, if you want.”

“No way. You deserve something comfortable,” he got out of bed, and approached the bathroom to take his own shower. “Get nice and cozy, friend. You deserve it.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, and you moved up to the top of the bed, slipping under the covers and sighing aloud from relief. Your body was finally having a chance to relax, and the hotel bed was surprisingly comfortable.

By the time Steve returned from the shower, you were already half asleep, and very unaware of your surroundings.

As you fell out of consciousness, you had blurry visions of confinement, punishments, and pain. You once again woke up with a gasp, but this time Steve was standing over you.

“Deep breaths, okay? I saw you thrashing and mumbling something to yourself. I think you were having a bad dream.”

You nodded and panted, trying to catch your breath and slow down your hummingbird heart rate.

“You’re safe, I promise.”

“Can you stay with me?” you stammered out.

“Yeah, of course,” Steve got into bed beside you, and rubbed your back as you curled into a fetal position, “just try to relax, okay? There isn’t anything to fear when I’m here with you.”

You nodded, clutching onto Steve’s genuine tone. Something about him just made you feel… safe, despite the possible red flags around him.

After Steve got into bed with you, you were finally able to fall into a dreamless and peaceful sleep.

——

You woke up to an empty and cold bed. You blinked a few times and looked around the room, eyes stopping on Steve as he watched you from the couch, eyes quickly flipping between yourself and the book in his hands in an effort to cover up his staring.

The whole ordeal made you feel slightly off, but the realization that you were essentially mooching off a stranger felt worse.

You hopped out of bed and anxiously paced towards the bathroom. “Shit, Steve,” you muttered. “I shouldn’t be taking advantage of you like this. I should probably leave.”

“Where else do you have to go?” Steve almost defensively questioned, frown deep on his face.

You took a deep sigh and shrugged, “I… don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t have to go,” he began, sounding unsure in his words, “stay. With me,” he stood up and walked over to you, grabbing the back of your arm softly. “You’re not taking advantage of me. If anything, you’re helping me. I get pretty lonely on these kinds of missions, so please, stay with me.”

You turned to look at Steve, the deep creases in his face at the thought of losing you. With just a glance, you knew that you couldn’t leave.

——

The next few days of your life had proved your theory. It was almost alarming how quickly Steve became your anchor in the midst of a new, overwhelming world.

The first thing that he did for you was tell you what your name was. As confused as you were to how exactly he figured it out, (he told you that he knew some weird tech guy. You were prepared to go with anything), you were grateful that Steve was able to help you out a piece of your old life back together.

He was oddly patient with you as you learned more and more about your surroundings. You were most impressed by the grocery store, and may or may not have spent hours inside of that food palace, spending much more of Steve’s money than was socially acceptable.

For the next few months, you stayed at a safe house with Steve, spending the majority of your time looking down at your reflection in the lake in the backyard, wondering if your memories could ever come back.

You’d grown closer with Steve in that time as well, he was really the only person that you’d gotten close with since you’d lost your memories. Now that you were thinking about it, you hadn’t said more than three sentences to anyone else. By that measurement, your next closest friend was a gas station cashier.

In fact, you’d started dating Steve. Granted, you couldn’t completely wrap your mind around it all, despite the hours of rom-coms you’d watched while Steve was gone on missions. You just knew that you cared a lot about Steve. When he was around you, your heart fluttered. He was the only person you truly felt comfortable with. He protected you time after time, and voiced to you just how much he adored you.

It made you feel wanted, to know that despite all of the confusion, you still had a place in this world, even if the place was just Steve Rogers’ heart.

——

Steve arrived at the safe house late at night after nearly a week of being off on another mission. The bed creaked as he got into bed with you, and pressed up against your sleeping form.

“Steve, sometimes I have these really awful dreams. Mostly when you’re not with me,” you began out of the blue as his arms snaked around you. “It’s always this faceless man just… abusing me. And I can’t even do anything about it because I’m too weak. And I can’t say anything because he stole my vocal cords. It sounds so silly, because it’s all just a dream, but it all feels so real. I just... I need you to promise me that you’ll protect me no matter what. Especially against him.”

“Of course,” he whispered against the back of your head, “I promise that I’ll protect you from him. He’ll never even get the chance to let the thought cross his mind.”

“I love you, Steve,” you mumbled sleepily, “please never leave me again.”

He’d been waiting to hear those words.

——

Your fingers wrapped around a warm mug while Steve put the finishing touches on your breakfast. He’d decided to go all out that morning, with an impressive spread of food that would put most buffets to shame. For a moment, you questioned if you’d forgotten about some important holiday, or an anniversary.

Steve set a plate down in front of you, then pressed a soft peck to your forehead, “enjoy, sweetheart.”

You grinned softly down at the food, and at the affection, “what’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Just relieved to be back. I don’t like being away from you for too long,” he settled into the seat across from you, and took a sip of his own coffee.

“Mm, you sure? You’re not always this chipper post mission.”

Steve chuckled and shook his head just the slightest bit, “alright. You got me. I wanted to save it as a surprise, but I hate keeping secrets from you,” Steve paused.

“So… what’s the secret?” you pressed, bringing a forkful of food up to your mouth.

“I’m retiring.”

Your eyes widened as you heard the news, and you nearly choked, “are you really?”

Steve simply nodded, “I’m ready for the next chapter of my life with you.”

Your heart fluttered at the sweetness of his gesture, and the slightest hint of nerves. Why was Steve so willing to give up his entire livelihood for someone he knew for less than a year?

You felt bad for questioning his motives, considering that Steve had been nothing but good to you in the time that you knew him. If it wasn’t for him, you probably wouldn’t even be alive. He had proved himself to be an amazing, loving man, who had bent over backwards to keep you safe and comfortable. He trusted you, and it was time for you to do the same.

“I’ve been plotting this for a while, to be honest. You might think this is a little fast, but I even have a permanent place for us to stay.”

You couldn’t find it in you to be skeptical for much longer, your feelings of adoration for Steve overruling your hesitance to jump into something like that with him.

You smiled softly as Steve spoke, getting up and pacing over to where he was seated so you could give him a hug, “I.. yes, that’s fast, but it’s also kinda amazing,” you sighed softly, burying your face into the crook of his neck. “When are we leaving?”

“Tonight, if that’s alright with you. I was thinking that we could spend the day packing up and… celebrating,” he winked down at you, and you looked up to shake your head fondly.

“That sounds like a plan,” you gazed at him with adoration, and leaned up to press a soft peck to his lips that was lovingly reciprocated.

——

Music pounded against your eardrums as you ground against a handsome stranger, one you couldn’t see, but instinctively knew. The smell of sweat, liquor, and sex filled your nose, the rancid combination oddly comforting in a retrospective moment.

“We’re leaving!” A voice you hadn’t heard in what felt like years informed you. Your face broke into a wide grin when you heard her voice. “But it doesn’t look like you care!” she jeered. “Good luck!” your friend laughed, disappearing in the sea of people.

“You’re coming home with me, right?” he asked, a hot breath against your cheek.

You nodded. The words refused to come out.

“Good,” he confirmed, pressing a kiss to your neck.

Out of the blue, you weren’t in the club, but in the small basement room from before, staring at nothing in particular while sat at the edge of your vanity’s seat.

“I’ve tried everything with you,” he commented, leaning against the doorway casually. You felt the need to apologize, to tell your captor that you didn’t mean to do what you did, that you loved him. Plead for him not to punish you. “After months of submission, I thought that we were finally getting somewhere. Why’d you have to throw it all away?”

Glancing up at the vanity, a woman with sunken eyes, a pained expression, and fading bruises looked back at you, just long enough for you to briefly become that messy, drunken woman at the club once again.

“I’ve tried everything with you. The easy way clearly didn’t work,” he continued, “you leave me with no other options, my love,” the man sighed, sitting down next to you casually. “I want you to know that I’m doing this for us. You know that nothing good ever comes easy, right?”

The syringe went into your arm like a hot knife through butter, and your muscles clenched as fire filled your body. You went to scream, but your throat was still out of commission. As you went down, your vision and thoughts began to blur before you couldn’t decipher one thing or another. The final noise you could make out was the distortedly slow rendition of It’s Been a Long, Long Time on the record player.

In an out-of-body moment, you watched as the man pulled your relaxed body down to the floor, cautiously pulling the clothes off of you and making you cringe internally at the sight of yourself in such a state. He left your body alone for a moment as he looked through the negligible amount of clothing in your closet, grabbing the same dress from the night at the club and pulling it on your limp figure.

It was torn and messy, not unlike the state it was in when you found yourself conscious. The faceless man muttered something unintelligible to himself before hoisting you up bridal style and taking your body out to the car.

You watched in terror as this all played out, your slack face looking disturbingly at peace compared to how you’d appeared before. In fact, even in your ghastly state, you felt at peace.

That peace quickly came to an end as you watched yourself get ditched on the side of the road, and as your body slowly began to twitch back to consciousness, your dream began to fade away.

——

You dragged your suitcase up through the garage, grateful to be at your final destination with the man you’d fallen in love with. You hoped that after moving in, the dreams might finally stop. After all, your dream in the car felt somewhat final. You were trying your best to be as positive as you could manage in such a strange situation, and from the outside, you had to admit that the house was gorgeous.

Stepping inside felt like the worst case of deja vu you’d ever experienced, as if your memories were repairing themself with every millisecond you were in the home, gazing at furniture you hadn’t seen in months, and smelling faint scents that you’d forgotten existed. Feature by feature, the puzzle pieces of the faceless man came together.

The longer you observed, the worse the feeling became. Waves of grief, fear, and pain were rolling over you again and again until you were completely drowning on it. The realization hit you with a ton of bricks: this was the house from your dreams.

Steve came up behind you, snapping you out of your panicked trance. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek and squeezed you close to him.

“Ready for the first day of the rest of your life?”

#dark!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #chris evans x reader #dark!steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #avengers fanfiction #dark fanfiction #chris evans x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers angst #captain america x you #soft!dark steve rogers x reader #softdark!steve rogers x reader

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wereallydobevibing · 5 years

Text

Posessive - avengers x reader

Prompt - the reader is new to the team, and the rest of the team become possessive for her very quickly, even going as far as threatening to kill each other to insure their claim on her.

[ This didn't turn out as well as I hoped, I feel like. But feel free to send in asks or requests for other Avenger characters that you'd like to see a darker/yandere version of. ]

Warnings - Yandere avengers, mentions of sex, slightly brutal, obsessive behavior, daddy kink, choking kink, breeding kink, innocence kink, smutty, pretty dark tbh

Being new to the team was an easy adaptation—for, the rest of the team was highly supportive of you. Each and every one of them always seemed extactic to have you in their presence, and you usually thought they were just being nice.

Boy, were you wrong.

Tony, naturally, had been first to show signs of obsessive behavior. But you being young and pure, you hadn't noticed.

He started off by constantly calling you to his lab; a weak attempt to keep you from interacting too much with the rest of the team. Because he knew that the Avengers were made up entirely of broken superhumans—desperate to be in control of at least one thing, even if it couldn't be their ruthless fates.

And who better than you?

You were a reaving beauty walking the compound—your legs exposed by the running shorts you wore, leaving everyone's eyes trailing on you as the muscle in your legs rippled and your waist so god damn grabbable.

So he would find excuses to make sure you were always with him—if not training or relaxing in your room. He'd always have the surveillance cameras surrounding the complex focused entirely on you, always watching. Tony had even gone as far as making sure your room was just across from his.

But you, an avenger, still needed to train with the team—to workout, and go on missions. And with Steve being the Cap, there was no surprise that you also spent some training time with him.

Even if it was purely formal—which it had been, at first—Tony would glare at the computer screens as you and Steve shared laughs. You may not have seen it, but even through the cameras, Tony could—that little glint in Steve's eyes when he looked at you, how unnecessarily close he stood next to you, the way he straddled your waist when he pinned you down on the sparring mat then leant down to whisper something in your ear.

Tony was pissed.

"You did good today, Y/N," Steve breathed, keeping your arms pinned above your head. He eyes trailed your body, and in order to not scare you off, Steve struggled to keep his hands from trailing your waist. "very good."

You blushed, "erm, thanks, Cap."

He lifted you off the ground, still standing strangely close to you.

"I should get going," you smiled, grabbing your water bottle. "Tony needs my help in the lab."

Steve internally scoffed, that selfish bastard.

While Steve may have been from another time, he wasn't mindless. He was well aware of Tony's feelings—aware that the billionare was only constantly requesting your presence in order to keep you to himself.

But Stark was too late—the playboy spent so much time in his lab, he hadn't realized that more than half the team was already spilling blood in your name—for your favor. It took nothing more than a soft smile in their direction, nothing more than the swing of your hips, for them to be hypnotized by you.

Sam and Bucky had already been at it more than once—and instead of stopping it, Thor had joined in, exclaiming, "she is far too divine to be wasted on mere mortals. She is mine."

Steve remained somewhere on the out-field, sitting comfortably as he silently strategized a way to get you away from here—somehwere only he could find you.

Somewhere only he could have you.

Steve was a patient man, afterall. He was a man thousands of civilians looked to and labeled righteous. For as long as he wanted to, he could keep you hidden away and no one would ever suspect your disappearance to be his doing.

"Why don't you come to the kitchen," Steve suggested, inching closer to you—fingers aching to grasp your jaw. "spend some time with a fellow avenger for once? Being cooped up in Tony's lab all the time isn't healthy, you know."

Much to his dismay, you had fulfilled your promise to Tony, and headed toward the lab once your time with Steve was done. And he did nothing but watch—angered, yet amazed—his eyes trailing over your bare legs, adoring the muscle that rippled beneath your baby soft skin.

Steve's pants grew tight, and he grunted in unsatisfaction. You were such a god damn tease.

***

Arriving in Tony's lab, you had expected to find him working on his newest creation. But instead of Tony, you found Bruce, examining a blueprint of some sort. His eyes averted to meet yours; a strange fluttering occuring in his stomach at the sight of you—hair messy, skin slightly sheening under the light due to the sweat lightly layering over your skin.

He'd heard of there being a newer addition to the team, but he hadn't expected you to be so ... perfect.

"You must be Y/N," Bruce breathed, holding out a hand as you approached him. "My name is Bruce, I'm sure you've heard of me."

"I have," you smiled, unaware of the burning sensation he felt when you hand made contact with his. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Banner."

Mr. Banner, your words echoed in his head. Your silky smooth voice gliding over his eardrums and sending shivers down his spine.

He almost asked you to say it again—address him like he was your superior, whisper it in his ear, but was quickly stopped. Both by the shyness in his chest, and Tony's reappearance in the lab.

"Ah, Y/N!" Tony cheered, feeling the boiling of his blood subside now that Rogers was no longer in sight. "Finally back again~"

***

Sam listened from his place at the kitchen table as you spoke softly to your father over the phone—he listened, absorbing the softness of your voice and the light, breathy chuckles escaping your throat as you continued on with your conversation; not minding that he was there.

"Yes, daddy," you responded.

Sam's ears perked up at the sound of your response, and so did his little friend beneath his sweats. His eyes bore through the back of your head, a lustfilled gaze with the intentions of undressing you with his eyes.

Daddy, his concious echoed, but now his mind was remixing the sound of your voice so that it came out more like a pleasure-filled moan, begging for him.

"You okay?"

Sam whipped up his head, you standing over him with a look of concern gracing your features. He wasn't sure when your conversation over the phone ended, but he hadn't been quite ready for it. Now you stared down at him, observing him, he felt naked under your eyes.

"A little nauseous, that's all," he smiled up at you through the lie, but your gaze was still concerned, almost like a mother. The thought of you babying him made him hard—or better yet, the thought if you carrying his child.

His expression was pained—tortured. His member was perked up and ready to go, Sam was tempted to slam you on the table and fuck you so hard you came twice at the same time.

But he didn't get to—not this time. Bucky came waltzing in the room, suited up and ready to lead you into the target room for more gun training. A glare fueled his gaze at the sight of the former winter soldier, who only smirked smuggly.

"Ready, doll?"

Sam grew irritated, but refused to voice it. He and Bucky would get at it later, for now, he could only dream of locking you up in his apartment—having you all night long. Leaving love bites and teeth marks on your skin, fucking a baby into you to make it clear that you were his.

Only his.

***

"Relax your shoulders," Bucky instructed, "don't tilt your head, keep it straight."

"Yes, sir," you muttered, knowing he could hear you but also thinking he would laugh along.

He didn't.

Bucky paused behing you, jaw clenched at the sound of your voice addressing him as 'sir'. His lip went guant between his teeth.

"Sir?" He spoke lowly, "That's a new one."

"Don't like it?" You teased.

I love it. He thought, but instead he shrugged. It slipped passed your lips all sweet and innocent, and that was what got him so riled up—it was so pure, but it sounded so deliciously submissive.

You'd been so focused on reloading your weapon, you hadn't heard his heavy footsteps stride closer to you. What caught your attention was the pressure of his hard chest against your back—his head tilting so that his nose rubbed against your neck.

"Bucky?"

No response—but instead, his hand took the weapon from your palm and set it aside. His groin rubbed pressed against your ass, and you gasped. You gripped the edge of the counter in front of you to remain balanced.

"B-Bucky, what is this?"

"The others—they think you belong to them," he whispered lowly, hot breath tingling your cheek. "Stark, Steve, Sam, Banner, Thor—but you don't, Y/N. You don't belong to them. You belong to me."

Bucky reached around you, placing his flesh hand on your neck, giving it a light squeeze. It wasn't enough to cut off your airway, but it was enough to make you gasp. Bucky hardened at the sight—choking was such a good look on you.

"Bucky, wait—"

"You've been spending so much time with Stark—"

"He's my friend."

"Stark doesn't see it that way," he growled into your neck, nibbling at the soft flesh. "He wants you the way we all do, doll."

Your eyes widened—a feeling in your chest arising. You knew where this was going, and a part of you wanted to let it happen. You mentally scolded yourself for that.

Bucky's metal hand slipped under your shirt, the coldness of it making your skin crawl. His fingertips trailed up your stomach to the fabric of your bra, curling over your perfect breasts and giving a the soft flesh a satisfying squeeze.

Another gasp flew through your lips, trembling.

"I saw you first," Bucky hissed pressing against you more, "you're fucking mine, doll."

But he won't do anything to you—not just yet. If a war between the avengers hasn't started yet, taking you right here in the training room surely would. The team had enough to stress over already, and on top of that, Bucky wasn't a man of force. He wouldn't bed you if you were uncertain of such a decision.

So, gently, he released his hold on you—eyes still trailing on your face as you looked up at him with shock and confusion. Bucky curled a strand of your hair around his thick fingers, then pushed it back—all the while, leaning down to place a possessive kiss on your temple.

He stalked away no later, knowing that through the security cameras, Tony Stark was surely watching. Bucky's face was smug and smirking as he stared up into the camera, strutting down the hall in all his glory.

***

"This is Stormbreaker," Thor introduced, pointing towards the heavy looking hammer in his hands. He didn't need to point it out—needless to say, you knew all about it. "Only I am capable of holding it."

"So I've been told," you muttered, then listened to the breathless chuckles surrounding you. It was on nights like this where the team would finally manage to get together and relax, share a drink or two and talk.

But now you had grown tense around the team—after that particular moment you had shared with Bucky just a couple of days ago.

They all want me, you thought—at least, that's what Bucky had told you. By now, you were limiting your time with Tony and spending a majority of it with Steve or Nat—you could believe Tony was a posessive man, but Steve? That wasn't like him at all.

Tony, blinded, hadn't noticed your sudden change in demeanor. And you kept it that way. You still held a healthy relationship with the Stark man, but distanced yourself from him all the same.

Natasha seized to act strangely around you, which left you thinking she had zero interest in being romantically involved with you. But, boy, were you wrong.

She was good at controlling herself, making herself appear a certain way for her own personal benefit.

Natasha was doing just that with you—gaining your trust, making it so that you feel comfortable going only to her when burdened or in need of comfort. It was working—and while she had you growing more and more attached to her, Nat was content knowing that she was winning. But she'd have to make it clear to the boys.

"Everyone here has attempted to lift my hammer at some point—"Thor grinned, pointing his hammer at everyone, then stopping at you. "—except you, my dear Y/N."

"Oh, no, no, no," you protested, shaking your head, "if Cap couldn't lift it, I definately couldn't."

"Don't be silly, doll," Steve smirked, "give it a try."

You didn't notice them all tense as Thor took your hand and lead you toward his hammer. Chances of you actually lifting were actually pretty thick—you were just like Thor in some ways, but were strong-willed and dependable. If you weren't worthy of lifting Mjolnr, then nobody was.

You sent Nat a look, practically begging her to come to your rescue—but instead she smirked, lifting her glass of whiskey to her lips and challenging you with her eyes.

You sighed, then loosely wrapped your thin fingers around the handle of Thor's hammer. Everyone watched intently, and with that, you decided you wouldn't even try. It was ridiculous, really—the thought of you being worthy of lifting a god's weapon when Captain America himself couldn't even do it.

This is so stupid, you thought.

With a soft, lazy tug, you lifted your hand, slightly wobbling in the air as you struggled to control the weight of the weapon in your hands.

In your hands.

You were lifting Thor's hammer—but of course, not with ease. It was slightly heavy in your palm, you needed two hands to properly grasp it.

Your eyes went wide, mouth fallen agape as the rest of the team watched you in awe. You were worthy—which meant Thor would—

"You're worthy," Thor breathed, Tony began rising from his seat, Steve's jaw clenched. Bucky's glass of whiskey exploded in his tight grip; rage boiling within him. Bruce was prepared to Hulk out.

"What does this mean?" Nat seethed, leaning forward in her seat.

"That means," A selfish, darkening glint appeared in Thor's eyes as everyone glared up at him, and you watched as he snuck an arm around your waist, then took back his hammer with his free hand. "I will take her back to Asgard, make her my queen, and have her rule at my side."

There was a moment of silence, and Steve was suddenly summoning his shield—fuming, "Over my dead fucking body."

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cassnottiel · 6 years

Text

Peter Parker one shot

This is a one shot I wrote about Peter Parker lifting Mjolnir.

Words: 1,081

---

It was no secret that Thor was Peter Parkers favorite Avenger. Peter stated it, multiple times.

Peter thought the god was hot (but would never say that out loud), and funny, and all around great.

But, what really got Peter was Mjolnir, the hammer. He was fascinated. He knew that 'only the worthy can lift the hammer,' and he knew he wasn't worthy, but he still wondered.

Peter would always sneak glances at Mjolnir whenever it was in the room, maybe even scoot towards it a little, but he never touched it. Never openly reached for it.

Peter also kind of hated Mjolnir.

Thor would leave the hammer around in the most inconvenient places. People tripped over it on the floor, people had to work around it when it was on a table, and God forbid if it ever found it's way to the top of a stack of papers.

Peter found it extremely adorable and even more annoying when Thor would place Mjolnir on top of something when he called dibs on it. The TV remote, candy, leftover food; it was all horribly inconvenient for the rest of the team.

"Damnit, Thor." Sam Wilson would mutter angerly when he opened the fridge to reveal Mjolnir on top of a stack of tupperware containers. He'd give a feeble - and unsuccessful -attempt to move the hammer, and then sigh and walk away.

"Come on, man." Bruce Banner would give a tired sigh when Mjolnir was placed on top of something he had set down, and pointedly ignore Thor telling him to take a break and get some sleep.

Steve Rogers would roll his eyes when he saw the hammer on top of his sketch book and just accept defeat.

"This isn't funny!" Tony Stark would yell as he tried to pry open the liquor cabinet, the leather loop on the handle of Mjolnir wound around the handles of the cabinet.

It seemed that it was Peter Parkers turn to be inconvenienced by Thor.

Peter was running to get ready for and not be late to a morning lecture on technical engineering when he saw it; Mjolnir. It was just sitting there, right on top of Peter's backpack strap. The only way to get the backpack was to move Mjolnir, and only Thor could do that.

"Shit." Peter checked the time and sighed. He would be late if he didn't leave in the next negative three minutes. "God-fucking-damnit, you little shit."

"Are you in need of assistance?" The voice of FRIDAY suddenly spoke out.

"Yeah." Peter nodded. "Thor left his hammer on my backpack."

"I'll notify Thor, Mr. Parker." Friday said.

"Thank you, Friday." Peter smiled slightly up at the ceiling.

"Damn." Peter turned to see Natasha Romanoff leaning against a wall and smirking ever so slightly at the predicament.

"I'm late." Peter sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "This is just amazing." He said bitterly.

Natasha's smirk grew. "Frustrating?"

"You have no idea." Peter sat down on the floor next to his backpack. He glared at Mjolnir.

"It's not the hammers fault." Natasha reasoned. Peter scoffed.

"Sure it's not." He said. "That thing is sentient."

Peter didn't know what posessed him to do it, but he did it. Without thinking, he reached out and pushed the hammer. He wasn't expecting it to do anything.

That's why he was so surprised when it fell onto it's side.

"Holy shit!" Peter scrambled to his feet and pointed to Mjolnir. "Did you see-?"

"Oh my God, Parker." Natasha stared in disbelief. "Do it again."

"What? No!" Peter shook his head. "I can't- that wasn't- that's not possible."

"Do it, Parker." Natasha said firmly. The two made eye contact, then Peter hesitantly reached out and gripped the handle.

He took a breath, and then lifted Mjolnir.

"Holy shit." Peter mumbled. He looked up at Natasha and then back down at the hammer. Then he set it down. "I'm late. I'll see you later."

Natasha nodded. "See you."

Peter slung his backpack over his shoulder and started walking. He passed Thor in the hallway.

"Peter!" Thor smiled warmly. "The electronic voice tells me you need my assistance."

"Nope." Peter said quickly, shooting a glance back at Natasha. "False alarm. Sorry for bothering you." He then, promptly, side-stepped Thor and made his way out into the world.

He could make it to the lecture if he ignored all the speed limits, right?

Natasha and Peter never talked about what happened that morning. Only shot each other glances when someone complained about Mjolnir being on top of something.

Peter was in a state of shocked disbelief. I'm not worthy, he thought, I was drugged and that was a hallucination.

But, still . . .

"Parker."

Peter hummed and blinked rapidly, rubbing his eyes with his nuckle. College really kills a sleep schedule. He finally opened his eyes all the way and looked at Natasha. "Yeah?"

Natasha subtly jerked her head towards someone standing at the entrance to the living area. Peter followed her gaze and saw Thor, who started advancing to where everyone else was.

"Peter, you are tired." Thor said and plucked the book out of the college students hands. "You should rest."

"No, no." Peter said through a yawn and made a grab for his textbook. "I have a test tomorrow, I'm fine."

Thor closed the textbook and summoned Mjolnir to his hand. He placed the book on the floor and set the hammer on top of it. "Rest, Peter."

"Come on, Thor." Tony spoke up from the kitchen, where he was mixing himself a drink. "The kid's in college. College means sleepless nights of studying."

"Yeah, let the kid be miserable." Sam smirked. "Give him a taste of how we feel with him here."

Peter sent a rude hand gesture in Sam's direction and was met with laughter from most people present and a reprimand from Steve.

"Thor, give it back to him." Natasha said calmly.

"No, he should not be working like that. It is unhealthy." Thor crossed his arms over his chest.

Peter let out an over dramatic groan. "Fine." He got up and walked over to the textbook. He reached down and pulled the Mjolnir off the ground with one hand and then picked up the textbook in the other. He handed the hammer back to Thor. "I'll study in my room."

Peter left the room, leaving four stunned men and one woman trying her best to keep the laughter off her face.

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