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#thor/bruce au
literaryavenger · 2 months
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Can I be him?
Summary: When Bucky finds something of yours, he hopes against hope that you feel the same way about him.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language cause it's me. Fluff. A lot of angst. Idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts, both reader and Bucky. No use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.
Word Count: 4.8K
A/N: It’s 3am where I live, so… Happy 107th Birthday to my favorite Supersoldier! Today I’m posting 2 Bucky fics because my baby deserves it, this one and another one sometime around the afternoon. Hope someone likes it! Thank you to my angels @ordelixx and @mrsbuckybarnes1917 that gave me so many ideas that helped me finish this. I love you🖤
Masterlist
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Being an Avenger is not easy.
The long missions, the intense training, the weight of the world on your shoulders…
Everybody on the team has a different way to unwind after a mission: Steve draws, Clint and Natasha compete doing target practice, Thor sleeps, Sam plays video games, Bucky takes motorcycle rides, Tony and Bruce work on side projects in their lab, Loki reads, Peter does his homework and Wanda cooks with Vision.
For you, it’s going to the rose garden behind the Compound.
It’s a bit of a sanctuary for you, Tony allowed you to put tall hedges of roses with a gazebo-like structure in the middle of them facing the lake, only it’s entirely made of vines.
You made it yourself, that’s your power: you can manipulate anything plant-related. 
Everytime you finish a mission the team splits up as soon as the debriefing is over and you walk straight here.
You sit on the bench, also made of vines, take out your diary and start writing.
You write about everything, from details of missions to your feelings about the team. From things you did that you don’t want to forget to things that you want to do after you’re not so tired anymore.
The hedges hide you from view and the only thing you can see when you’re here is the lake.
Sometimes, after a particular difficult mission, you don’t even write. You just sit there and look out into the water, the sunshine or moonlight shining down on you, and you feel at peace.
It helps that nobody else ever comes here. The team understands it’s your safe space, and the agents are mostly scared of your powers ever since you grew a giant carnivorous plant and it bit an agent that squeezed your ass during training. 
The agent got both taken to the medbay and suspended on the same day, and you got the thanks of about a dozen girls that had the same problem with the same asshole.
You walk out of the conference room, the debriefing of the team’s latest mission just wrapped up, and like usual everyone scatters to their own after-mission ritual.
Today, though, you can’t concentrate on anything.
Your feet take you to the rose garden by reflex, but your brain doesn’t even register you’re there until you sit on the bench.
Today’s mission took a lot out of you, not just because of the amount of magic you had to use to get everyone out safely, but also because it was your fault the team was in so much danger in the first place.
You fucked up your task, Natasha had to step in and save your ass, moving away from her post and making her late for her own task and that derailed the entire mission.
At the end, you had to use your powers to take out the hundreds of Hydra agents at the same time, which is no small feat and made you almost pass out.
Everybody told you on the way home not to worry, the mission was successfully accomplished and everyone made it out safely, but you know that if it wasn’t for your screw up the team would’ve gotten in and out of base without so much as a scratch. 
Nobody had fatal injuries, thank God, but Sam got shot in the leg, Clint got stabbed and everyone else had various degrees of injuries because Hydra got the jump on the team.
Because of me.
That was all you kept thinking about. Your brain had a field day making up all kinds of scenarios where your mistake cost someone’s life, a few of them even had the entire team dying because of your stupidity. 
You were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice someone following you to the rose garden.
Not that you ever do. 
If there’s one thing Bucky Barnes knows how to do, is move around undetected. He’s a master assassin, he was trained for this for over 50 years, he knows how to be a shadow.
Except now he uses his skills for good during missions and, occasionally, to follow you.
Not in a creepy way, of course, just to check on you. At least that’s the excuse he always uses so he won’t have to admit to himself that what he does is, indeed, a little creepy.
But he can’t help himself, Bucky knew from the moment he saw you that he was fucked. 
The moment you walked into the room to meet the team his heart was yours. You stole it with one simple smile, with one look of your beautiful eyes.
You introduced yourself and shook hands with everyone, but when you looked at Bucky he felt like a light came on and it was just you two.
You shook his hand and he felt like he had to take it off and give it to you, it was yours now. His hand, his arm, his leg, his head, his heart, his soul. Everything he is was now yours, he just knew it.
Then you said his name and he could’ve died right there and then. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and it was barely two syllables. Every word you said, every laugh and sound that came out of your pretty mouth, Bucky felt like it was all for him. Nobody else mattered.
Bucky knew then he was in love.
But he didn’t know how to approach you. You were like a fairy, like a princess. Growing flowers, always smiling, baking, growing everyone’s favorite flowers and always willing to help, like growing Aloe when Wanda burned herself cooking, or Chamomile to help with Tony’s anxiety, or Valerian roots whenever someone was feeling down. 
You were like sunshine and he was terrified he’d kill your light. But he’d be damned if he’d let the world kill it either, he’d protect you with his life.
So he took to following you, making sure you were safe from a distance.
But it’s not like he never talked to you, the more time you spent with the team the more comfortable Bucky got around you and eventually you became friends.
Bucky knew you could take care of yourself, you were one of the strongest members of the team, but he didn’t like it when you were in your rose garden by yourself. The tall hedges made it impossible to see incoming danger, so he kept an eye on you just to be sure.
For his own piece of mind. And you never saw him.
That was Bucky’s actual way to unwind after a mission.
He’d tell everybody he was going for a ride on his bike, but he’d drive it through the woods around the compound and to the other side of the lake where he’d have a perfect view of you without you knowing. 
Deep down he knew it was a little creepy, he could just ask you if he could join you, but he felt like you needed your time alone without anyone else around, and he knew if he asked you, you’d say yes no matter what you were feeling, because that’s just the kind of person you are.
So Bucky watched you from afar, always careful not to be seen. He watched you write for hours, it relaxed him to see your beautiful face so concentrated.
Sometimes you’d laugh quietly at what you were writing and those were the only times Bucky was grateful for the supersoldier serum that allowed him to hear such a beautiful sound even with so much distance between you.
But it was torture for him when he knew you had a bad day. Sometimes you’d hug your knees and cry, Bucky could tell how much you’d need a hug, and it killed him that he couldn’t just walk up to you and hug you.
Everytime he sees you cry his heart breaks a little and he always tries to make you feel better when you walk back inside. He doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, he just tries to make you laugh. But all he wanted to do was dry your tears.
You did notice Bucky always seemed to act a little goofy when you're feeling down, like he somehow knew, but you never thought much of it.
You knew he was a very observant person, so you assumed he just saw your mood through your behavior better than most.
Bucky loves hanging out with you, even if it’s just as friends. You make fun of him like with everyone else, you don’t treat him like could explode at any moment, never walking on eggshells around him like most people do.
You’ve never been afraid of him, and he’s glad that you don’t treat him like glass. You treat him like everyone else, and it makes him feel normal.
Everytime time he hangs out with you, you take him back to a time where he was unbroken. You make him feel alive again.
And he falls more in love with you by the second because of it. You’re all he wants, he wants to have you and kiss your lips and never let anyone hurt you. That’s all he can think about, but he knows that’s not gonna happen.
He heard you talk to Natasha and Wanda, heard that there’s someone you’d gone on a few dates with. But Bucky knows that guy doesn’t deserve you, nobody does.
Even Bucky himself doesn’t deserve you, you’re too pure for anyone in this world, but if there’s someone that has any chance of making you happy, Bucky prays to God that that someone is him.
Bucky knows today’s mission shook you deeply. He knows you blame yourself, and no amount of reassurance will make you believe that everything is okay.
So today, for the first time, Bucky actually follows you. He can see your unfocused eyes even as you walk and he wants to be near you, just in case.
He almost walks to you when you curl up on the bench and start sobbing quietly, but he holds back not wanting to startle or upset you further.
He just listens to your soft cries until you stop and compose yourself. You sigh and get up, walking back to the Compound to take a much needed relaxing shower.
But you’re still so much in your own head that you don’t even notice you left your diary on the bench in the gazebo. 
Bucky did notice, though.
He’s tempted to call after you and tell you, but something deep down tells him not to. He waits until you’re gone and then walks to the bench, picking up your diary and opening it.
He doesn’t know why, he knows it’s wrong, these are your private thoughts, but he’s just drawn to it for some reason.
When he starts reading he notices you don’t mention any specific names, which makes sense because only you read it, you know who you’re writing about. He reads a page here and there, reading about your missions or lazy days. 
He reads about some memories with the team you wrote about, some he remembers and others he probably wasn’t there for, but seeing all these memories from your point of view does something to him.
It makes him feel connected to you, makes him feel like he’s reading your heart and soul, because he kind of is. Then he reads something that captures his attention completely. 
You write about eyes blue like the ocean and just as troubled, about a smile that could light up the world. You write about someone with a complicated past that never lost his spark, never lost his love for life. 
A man that went through hell, and never once took it out on the world. A man that didn’t ever blame the world, even when he had every right to, choosing instead to protect it. 
You filled pages and pages with everything you admire about this man, everything you love about him that you know he hates. 
And Bucky feels like every word you wrote, you wrote for him. But could this be him? Could he be the one you talk about in all your stories?
He wants to. He wants this to be him. He prays you’re talking about him. He wishes this could be him… Who is he kidding?
Of course it’s not me. 
It’s probably the guy you’ve been dating. Yeah, that’s it. You’re in love with that guy, that much is clear. 
Bucky gets to the page where you write about your dates with the guy, but he can’t read them.
He closes the diary, not knowing that you compared your date to Bucky every step of the way. Not knowing that you granted the guy a second date just to be sure he couldn’t compare to Bucky, and went on a third date at a coffee shop just to let him down gently.
Bucky didn’t read how you know he’s the one for you, he didn’t read his own name written in your handwriting, the only name in your whole diary because he’s the only person you never want to forget, even though you know you never will.
But Bucky didn’t read that.
He puts your diary back where it was on the bench and, with his heart broken and his hope that one day you could be his lost, he goes back inside and to his room.
It’s only when you go back to the rose garden after your shower that you notice you left your diary there, but don’t think much of it. Nobody ever comes here anyway, as far as you know.
After finding out you’re in love with someone else, Bucky can’t stop himself from acting differently towards you, which you don’t fail to notice.
It’s not like he’s mean, but your interactions get shorter, like he tries his best to end the conversation quickly.
He no longer sits close to you, no longer tries to make you laugh when you’re feeling down, doesn’t hang out with you as much during your down time and if he does, it’s never just the two of you anymore.
It’s silly to say, but you miss him.
Bucky knows he’s been distancing himself, he knows you’ve noticed and he can see it’s affecting you, but he’s doing this to protect himself.
He knows it’s only a matter of time before you present your boyfriend to the team, the man you’re in love with and he doesn’t want it to hurt more than necessary.
You decide not to push Bucky, knowing he has his reasons to pull away from you. Maybe he’s just trying to deal with all the stress the team’s been under and you don’t want to add any more to that, so you let him be.
A few weeks later the team’s on their sixth mission in just as many days and everyone is exhausted. You’ve been taking down Hydra base after Hydra base, because waiting too long meant losing your chance to shut down their operations for good before they got the opportunity to leave.
You’ve been dividing in smaller teams to take down the bases while still giving the team a chance to recuperate, but this last one was the biggest and required the whole team together, which sucked for you because you were in the last team with Steve and Bucky that took down a base just yesterday, so the three of you got barely a few hours of sleep while you flew to the last base.
You’ve cleared the base, all that’s left is the agents in the courtyard who are really going down fighting. The whole team is outside now, the Hydra agents giving you a hell of a fight. You’re using your magic against your better judgment, giant vines coming out of your arms like whips, covered in poisonous thorns. One touch of that and anyone would go down immediately, everyone except you.
Or at least that’s what you think.
As you’re fighting you can see an agent trying to sneak up on Bucky who’s fighting near you, so you quickly take care of it for him.
Bucky turns around and sees the agent down and then looks at you with that charming smile you fell in love with and winks at you. “Thank you, doll.”
That’s the friendliest Bucky’s been towards you in weeks and you can’t help but smile back with a small blush.
You can see the last agent standing coming at you from your peripheral vision and you quickly whip him with a vine, taking him down as soon as you can so you can turn back to look at Bucky, still smiling at you.
Bucky’s smile drops quickly, though, as he sees your face draining of any color. You barely have the time to register the sting of your own thorn on your arm that you’re already falling to the ground.
Bucky tries to catch you, but he gets thrown back by your magic that goes into defense mode, creating a wall of thorns to protect your now unconscious body.
The team doesn't know what to do, none of them know enough about plants to be sure that these thorns wouldn’t just kill them all.
The only one that would know that is you, the person that’s passed out, or worse, trapped in the midst of a cocoon of thorns.
“Okay, we need to find a safe way to-” Steve starts but cuts himself off almost immediately. “What are you doing?!”
Bucky doesn’t even turn around to answer, too intent on breaking the thorns around you with his metal arm, not caring that the thorns are ripping his clothes and scratching his face, all he can think about is getting to you.
He finally manages to get through to you, but nobody can follow because your magic regrows the thorns Bucky broke, trapping him with you inside the cocoon.
But Bucky doesn’t care, his eyes never leaving your face as he kneels behind you, running a finger softly along your cheek and shivering when he feels your skin is cold as ice.
His mind goes to the worst possibility, that there’s nothing he can do, but his brain gives him some hope reasoning that your magic wouldn’t be working if you were dead.
Right?
He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels the thorns around you vibrate, he takes you in his arms and shields you with his body from whatever is about to happen.
But the only thing that happens is the shade cast by the thorns gets replaced by sunlight. Bucky looks up and realizes Wanda used her magic to lift the thorn cocoon.
“You couldn’t have done that before?!” Bucky barks at Wanda with a glare while carefully picking you up to take you to the Quinjet.
“She’s not the dumbass that threw himself headfirst in a mess of thorns without even considering another course of action!” Natasha came in Wanda’s defense, though she seemed more amused at Bucky’s antics than annoyed.
As the team heads back home in the jet, Bruce examines you and lets the team know you’re still alive but in a sort of coma.
Their relief is cut short when Bruce makes it known that he has no idea when, or if, you’ll wake up.
As soon as the Quinjet lands you’re taken to the medbay and hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated.
Bucky holds your hand through it all, staying all night next to you just in case you wake up. He didn’t want you to be freaked out and alone, he wanted to be the first person to see your beautiful eyes open.
When morning comes, though, you’re still unconscious, but Bucky doesn’t lose hope. You probably need a good sleep.
That’s what he tells himself for two, three, four days.
That’s what he keeps telling himself for a week, two weeks. Never once leaving your side, not eating unless Steve brings him food and makes sure he eats before leaving, and using the bathroom of your room in the medbay.
He barely sleeps and, when he does, he dreams of you.
Everyone was getting worried about him, he refused to leave your side until one day Steve came into your room to tell Bucky there was something wrong with your rose garden.
Bucky was torn between staying with you and seeing what Steve was talking about, but decided that it would kill you if something happened to your roses so he had to make sure everything was okay when you woke up.
Because you’re going to wake up.
Bucky follows Steve to your rose garden, and his eyes widen in horror as soon as he sees it. The roses, the hedges, the vines.
Everything is dying.
Bucky’s heart breaks, only one thought in his mind. If your plants are dying, does that mean you’re slowly dying too?
No. That’s unacceptable. You’re not gonna die, not if Bucky has anything to do with it.
He takes it upon himself to take care of your garden, watering it and doing everything he can to keep the roses and vines alive, fooling himself into believing that this will keep you alive.
He stays on the gazebo day and night, sleeping on the bench, spending every waking moment trying to keep a hold of even the smallest part of you.
But it’s not enough. Nothing is enough.
Bucky loses track of how many days he’s been in your garden, sleeping maybe an hour at a time here and there, watering the roses every few hours and crying the rest of the time.
After all it’s his fault, if he hadn’t distracted you none of this would’ve happened. You’d be in your beautiful garden, probably with your boyfriend, and the only broken thing would be Bucky’s heart.
That he could’ve lived with. 
But how can he live with the knowledge that he caused your end? That he killed your light? That he killed his sunshine, his hope, the love of his life? He can’t live with that.
Not that he has to.
While Bucky’s spiraling while surrounded by dying roses, inside your room in the medbay you’re finally waking up after almost a month.
You open your eyes slowly, looking around you at the hospital-like room. There’s nobody around and, as you look at the window, you can see it’s really late at night.
You sit up and try to make sense of what happened while rubbing your eyes. The last thing you remember is Bucky’s bright smile, and then nothing.
You look down at your arm and see an IV, which you take out while frowning. How long have you been sleeping?
You carefully get off the bed and make your way outside to your rose garden, just to be sure everything’s okay. It’s not like anyone’s gonna stop you anyway.
When you get close, the moonlight shines on the hedges and you gasp at what you see. Your beautiful roses withering away, the gazebo made of vines dying too.
But the most confusing thing is the sobs coming from the bench, although no one’s sitting on it.
You get closer and see Bucky sitting in front of the bench while hugging his knees and crying softly. You frown and get a little closer before stopping, not wanting to startle him.
“Bucky…” You say quietly and his head snaps up, his eyes instantly meeting yours.
For a moment it feels like he’s trying to decide if you’re real, he reaches out and you extend your hand to take his. That seems to convince him and he gasps.
“Doll…” His voice is barely above a whisper, almost as if he thinks if he makes too much noise you’ll disappear.
“What’s wrong?” You ask him while getting a little closer to him, concern clear in your every feature.
It’s only when you get closer that you see his face full of cuts and you frown. Those are not just any scratches, it’s clear to you that they were made by thorns. “D-did… Did I do this to you?” 
You’re kneeling in front of him now, one hand still in his one the other comes up to trace the cuts in his face softly, but he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.
“I’m okay…” He reassures you.
Just then he realizes, you’re fussing over him when you’re the one that’s been in a coma for a month. “Are you okay? How long have you been awake?” 
“I… I just woke up.” You tell him honestly, then look around at the dying roses and vines before looking back at him. “What happened to me?”
“You got stung by one of your poisonous thorns.” He says quietly, his thumbs rubbing circles on your skin while he refuses to let go of you. “You’ve been unconscious for almost a month.”
“A month?!” You’re shocked at the news, not knowing what to say or do, so you just stay there while letting the information sink in. The silence is broken by Bucky after a minute.
“I’m sorry about your roses… I tried to keep them alive, but…” He looks around with a hopeless expression. “I failed you.”
Your heart breaks a little. Does he really think he failed you?
You take a deep breath, then close your eyes and when you open them again a second later everything’s back to normal. The roses are as beautiful as ever, the gazebo just as majestic. It’s like nothing ever happened.
Bucky looks around in awe when he feels you take his chin and you make him look at you.
“You could never fail me.” You say firmly, wanting him to understand you mean it. You look at the cuts around his face and you can’t help the guilt and pain that you feel deep within you. “I’m sorry…”
“It wasn’t your fault.” It’s like Bucky can read your thoughts, he knows all you can see are your faults, and he wants you to know he doesn’t blame you for anything. “You weren’t even conscious. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I never wanted to be one of the people that hurt you…” Your voice is a whisper as a tear escapes you. “The world hurt you so much already… I never wanted to be part of that. You don’t deserve it.”
Bucky frowns. He feels like he’s heard those words, but where? No, he didn’t hear them. He read them. He read them in your diary, where you wrote about the man you’re in love with. Could it be possible?
Could I be him?
“It’s me…” He says lower than a whisper, his eyes locked on yours, and it’s your time to be confused now.
“What?” You ask him with a frown while wiping your cheeks.
“It’s me you’re in love with.” His voice is a little louder, but firm. He’s not asking you, he’s making a statement.
Your eyes widen in surprise, you almost take your hands away from his but his hold prevents you from doing that.
“I-I… What?” Is all you can bring yourself to say, confused as to why he’s so sure of it. Are you really that transparent?
“I read your diary…” Bucky says, guilt written all over his face, but at least he’s owning up to it. “You wrote about the man you love… and you wrote the same thing you just told me. It’s me, isn’t it? You love me back?” His voice is more hopeful now, his confident demeanor weavering.
“You… You read my diary?” You say, your mind still playing catch up.
It’s only a moment later that you register the ‘love me back’ and you don’t give him a chance to apologize or justify himself before you’re speaking again. “You love me?!” 
Bucky hesitates a moment but nods firmly. “I love you, doll. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.” 
You feel like someone punched you and all the air has left your body. You have no idea what to say, so you don’t say anything.
Instead you lean in and kiss him.
Bucky wastes no time kissing you back, but a thought pops into his mind and he reluctantly pulls back. “What about your boyfriend?”
“Boyfriend?” You frown again, having no idea what he’s talking about. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You don’t?” Bucky feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders and he pulls you to straddle him. “What about the guy you went on a few dates with?”
You narrow your eyes at him but decide to table the conversation about how he knows that for another time, so you smile at him and decide to just be honest with him.
“Do you honestly think that anyone could ever measure up to you? Because if you do, you’re an idiot.” Bucky grins and kisses you again. 
Maybe he is an idiot. But when he’s the idiot you’re in love with, how much of an idiot can he really be?
It looks like he can be him after all.
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**MASTERLIST**
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You can't stand your job as the arrogant Loki Laufeyson's personal PR rep, but when the quinjet crashes on your way to a summit and leaves you and your cocky co-worker stranded on an uncharted island, you force yourself to work together for your survival. When Loki contracts a devastating disease while awaiting rescue, his feelings for you change, and you find your tropical nightmare turning into the ultimate paradise you never thought it could be.
PAIRING: Avengers!Loki x Reader
GENRES: enemies-to-lovers, castaway romance, comedy, smut
CONTENT WARNINGS (18+ ONLY): some verbal abuse and Dub!con; descriptions of plane crashes, injuries, and disease; smut, look for individual warnings
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Chapter 1: "Thanks, I Hate You"
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PLEASE COMMENT/REBLOG IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED (likes alone do not count!)
Tags: @anukulee @jiyascepter @wolfsmom1 @cakesandtom @holdmytesseract @simplyholl @lokisgoodgirl @mjsthrillernp @meowmeow-motherfucker @foxherder @letstalkaboutshtufff @ladymischief11 @libby-bibby @javagirl328 @crimson2 @lcolumbia1988 @gruftiela @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss @loz-3 @kikster606 @muddyorbsblr @sheris532 @lokischambermaid @kneelingformyloki @soulpiercing @goddessgirl43 @canigetanap @theoneandonlythorn @forleiasake @eleniblue @knight-of-the-doctor @goblingirlsarah @clusterfuck-meup @mischief2sarawr
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 7 months
Note
Anyone from the HoM crew ever been ‘shloomped’ into the Nomicon? Whether on accident or them purposely opening the book out of curiosity?
(aaaaaaaa ive been agonizing about this ask because) sadly due to Plot Reasons for this au no one had/will have a chance to (so far)! but its such a good idea goddarn (getting schloomped into nomicon is up there with all of them visiting ghost zone!) i might just try to somehow fit that in the main plot xD
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you are so freaking big-brained its an amazing idea so i had to sorta doodle it???
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vbecker10 · 17 days
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@soubi001 sent me something on tiktok and I thought it sounded like something Loki might say lol so here it is (I added a screenshot from the tiktok below if tie curious what it was originally)
I also remembered there was a meme from a while back that kinda fit here so...
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Tony Stark showing the team around the upgraded pantry after renovations were made to the Tower
Loki: I think that is a bit misleading
Tony: What are you talking about?
Loki: This note, a small family... Is that parents and one child or two? Are the children still young? There is no way four bodies would fit in here
Bruce: What?!
Tony: No, no, no... this is not for bodies!
Natasha: I was thinking the same thing actually
Tony: It's for a small family to store their food!
Loki: Hmm... still seems an odd note
Tony: Can we just move on?
Bruce: Yes please
Walks from the pantry into the kitchen and points out the new appliances
Tony: ... and the new garbage disposal is rated for bones
Loki: What kind? I assure you there is a big difference between a finger and a femur
Tony:...
Clint: I think he means chicken
Loki: Oh, that makes much more sense
Tony and the rest of the team take a small step away from Loki
Loki: This is one of those "there are two types of people" situations I've heard of
Thor: Yes...
Loki: Perhaps I should keep my thoughts to myself for the remainder of the tour?
Tony: Please do
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@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @chantsdemarins @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki
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unholyhelbig · 4 months
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im in love with werewolf!kate
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Title: Once Bitten, Twice the Idiot [5/?]
Summary: After reader is attacked by a strange animal in the woods, her world is flipped upside down. Now she must navigate a new life filled with strangers and myths.
Trigger warnings: Talk about werewolf transformations, crying, group interventions [?], and definate spelling/grammar mistakes
[Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five]
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The compound seemed impersonal upon your second visit. It was nothing compared to the shitty apartment you had left earlier in the day. There were leaky ceilings and college students that would blast their music until dawn- but it had been home. It had been home, and this was anything but. This was an overwhelming smattering of scents that aggravated your already tepid nerves.
Without Kate close by panic began to bubble up in your stomach. Then anger. That anger that she had mentioned outside of your building was there too and though you didn’t want to admit it, you had to. Kate Bishop had ruined your life and the fact that you sought her out so heavily filled you with white hot rage. So why did you need her so badly?
In an attempt to ease your nerves, they had separated the two of you two seconds after you’d walked back through the doors. Word seemed to travel fast around here, and you took a mental note to keep your mouth shut in all situations. It had been over an hour since Kate was dragged away by Clint and that ache in your chest grew malicious.
“There’s an electrically charged fence around the bulk of the property but it’s 165 acres of pure natural land. There’s a lot of space to run, but there’s not much way to escape.” Wanda Maximoff explained things to you like a recipe.
She had taken you on the grand tour, though the house was mostly cleared out. It was clear that they were trying not to scare you. There was an array of smells, and each was distinct, though it was behind closed doors. There was an in-house gym and a myriad of offices and bedrooms on the second floor. There was a library too, one that had more books than the location on campus.
Wanda seemed like the best choice to give you the grand tour. Though, you had yet to meet more than Clint and Natasha, and a few others distantly. There had to be a reason that she was the one easing you into this. She smelled of cinnamon and that sharp metal scent that seemed to accompany them all.
You now.
You had stopped walking in the middle of the lush green yard. In turn, so had she. Her gaze was on you and sympathetic. There was a buzz to the fence, one that you could hear from the spot that you were rooted in. Leaves rustled and small critters made noises that you were not supposed to hear, but you could.
“Not much?” You let out a burning breath that you had been holding in. “Pardon me for being rude, but if it’s so secure how did Kate… get out?”
Wanda swallowed hard and closed the distance between you. She had a pitying look in her stare that somehow didn’t enrage you. Instead, it reminded you of your mother. Of course, she’d been the right choice. You could see that a mile away.
“Kate is an extremely powerful and reckless individual. She has an incredible amount of heart but sometimes that gets her in trouble. When you change, and you will change, you’ll understand the yearning a bit more. Usually, your wolf will be satiated with just feeling free- hence all the land. But sometimes there is an emotion so strong that there is no option other than to obey.”
“There’s an emotion strong enough to make her break through an electric fence and attack me?”
She snorted out a laugh, glancing up at the fading blue of the sky. There was a stronger chill to the air as the sun dipped behind the horizon. A fishbone moon was hanging in the air. It was never something that you paid much attention to before. But you were quite thankful that it wasn’t full. That wasn’t something you could handle anytime soon.
“Y/n, did Natasha mention that the two of us are together?”
“No, she didn’t.” You frowned, testing the waters “You’re so… and she’s so…”
“Oh, she’s an absolute hard ass. I’m well aware. She’d dumped her coffee all over the front of my shirt when we first met and apologized by paying for a new one. Natasha wrote her number on the side and wee dated for nearly a year before she told me her secret.”
The two of you started walking again, this time along a carved path that rested at the mouth of the backyard. Soon the grass devolved into underbrush and large stretching oak trees. Gravel crunched under the soles of your shoes. The rage shifted it’s way back into the small of your mind.
“I was taken aback, understandably. The woman I had fallen in love with sat me down and when I thought she was going to break up with me she told me she was a mythical creature instead. And I was mad. I thought she was lying and making excuses instead of being honest.”
Wanda let out a shaky sigh, one that was wracked with memories of what seemed to be a simpler time. There was a fondness in her stare that you craved in a selfish way. Because you wanted to feel that fondness for Kate, but it hadn’t quite bubbled to the surface yet.
“For almost a month, I didn’t speak to her. But on the night of the full moon, my curiosity got the better of me and I showed up at her house unprompted. It took some convincing. Natasha isn’t one for vulnerability, especially when that vulnerability is something that could cause me physical harm but I’m persistent.”
“You uh, I don’t know the terminology” there was a pause “you watched her become…”
“I did. And I’m not going to sugar coat this for you because it is not a pretty sight, and it is far from painless. But I believed her. Finally, I believed her and though I wanted to run there was a moment between the bones breaking and the screaming, where that honesty seeped out of Natasha like blood. I was her one. I was her person.”
Wanda laughed and shook her head. You’d made it a good way through the path and the sun had fully set behind the horizon, but it didn’t impair your vision one bit. You could see just the same, everything having a gray fuzzy tinge to it.
“Subconsciously, there is a pull in what we are. Natasha told me she knew I was her destiny when she spilled a caramel macchiato on me. And I love her, but I didn’t know just how strong that feeling was until I made the decision to change. To let her change me.”
“You willingly chose this?”
The question had slipped past your lips before you could stop it and you immediately felt guilty about the phrasing. Wanda reached and squeezed your palm with the coolness of her fingers. Comfort shot up your elbow and your shoulder until you felt all the warmth in the world.
“I did. It took a lot of conversation, a lot of planning but I was sure that Natasha was the only one and she was equally sure about me. So yes, I chose. And I am truly sorry that that liberty was stripped from you.” She gave your hand another squeeze. “The wolf that’s inside of you, that primal side is what took Kate over. It’s no excuse, her young naivety isn’t an excuse. But I know you feel it, and what you’re feeling right now is only a fraction of what she felt that night.”
That burning sensation in the pit of your stomach was utterly unbearable. It hadn’t gone away since Kate had bitten you. Not when you shoved cold lasagna into your mouth or swallowed three glasses of water. Nothing dulled the pain except your proximity to Kate.
“You’re saying that we’re destined to be together?” You scoffed, breath forming in a cloud.
“That’s for the two of you to decide.”
Wanda stopped in the middle of the path. She grasped your other hand and her solemn energy crept through her touch almost as if she transferred it directly to you. That burning ache in your stomach threatened to calm.
“This is a lot to take in, leaving everything behind and being thrown into the deep end of a world you don’t understand. But I am here for you and Clint is here for you, and so is Bruce and Peter. All four of us… all four of us were ushered into this life instead of born into it. Some by choice and some by chance. And regardless of how we got here, we know the struggle that it carries. We’re here, y/n.”
The room that was given to you was set up in the same beige colors as the rest of the house. Wanda had the same kindness that she seemed to always exude as she explained that you could paint and decorate however you wanted. It was yours, and despite this being a fancy prison, you could always make it feel a little less like a prison.
It was when you were left with your thoughts, did you become wracked with discomfort. The house was mostly silent. Wanda had explained to you the purposeful thickness of the walls. They were meant to dull sounds and form privacy. That- you were thankful for.
There were minimal scents in here and if you tried hard enough, you knew that you could relax. As long as you didn’t think about the fact that you had given up your scholarship, and your life with your friends and your family and your heart was pounding unforgivably in your chest until you were forced to sit up on the wrinkled comforter.  
It took a few moments before you realized that someone was knocking on the door. You stood, opening it despite your better judgement. Maybe it would be Wanda with her soothing nature again, or even Natasha to slap some sense into you.
Instead, it was Kate Bishop. She looked like a kicked puppy, her stormy gray stare boring into yours with enough apologies to last a lifetime. But you didn’t want to hear it. Not at the moment and probably not for the foreseeable future.
Though, you had to admit, everything seemed to simmer down with her familiar clove scent. Her hands were in the pockets of her pajama pants, and she held up a brown bag filled with fast food. The grease had soaked through the paper in dark splotches.
You hadn’t eaten since yesterday and embarrassingly, your stomach growled in response. It gave you away. Whatever was in that bag smelled absolutely divine. Kate tried to stifle the smirk on her lips in a comical expression. She had won.
The door opened wider as you stepped aside. “I know we talked about Italian on the bus ride over here, but the only place within sixty miles is a burger joint and I’m helpless in the kitchen.”
“This is perfect. Thank you, Kate.”
The two of you sat on the floor close to the double windows that led to a small balcony. At first, you were tempted to pull the curtains in front of them. It was easier to ignore the eyes that stared back in the reflection. Your own eyes but something different and carnal about them that you weren’t ready to confront.
Kate had supplied you with one of the messiest cheeseburgers that you had ever eaten and a basket of equally as damp fries. It was the best thing you had ever tasted. You were admittedly starving and had been since the moment you woke up.
“God, this is,” you used your thumb to wipe a bit of ketchup “This is good. Not enough to forgive you yet good, but fucking delicious.”
She cleared her throat “I didn’t expect one burger to get me in your good graces. But I figured you were hungry. It’s been a big couple of days.”
“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘I’m sorry’, don’t you dare ruin the bliss this burger brings me.”
She laughed, a beautiful sound. Kate moved from her spot on the floor to one that was next to you. She still gave you distance, a good couple of inches. Her back was against the side of the bed and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments.
Your reflections were distorted. Between you rested the moon. The real moon that you had noticed outside with Wanda. It was brighter than it had been, or maybe you were just closer. It’s pale light vibrated against your skin and filled you with a tingling sensation.
It wasn’t fondness exactly. It was like pulling a cozy blanket around you and basking in it’s effects. Like the room around you is cold, frost creeping up the windows, and the only solace is that small piece of fabric. The moon warmed you. You wanted to swim in it.
“How long do I have?” You whispered; Kate scrunched up her face into a half-frown. She looked at you. “Wanda told me about the first time she saw Natasha change. She wouldn’t go into details, and I don’t blame her. But it sounded… painful.”
Kate crossed her legs and picked at the fuzz on her socks. She successfully plucked two balls of lint off the pattern before she spoke. “My family is rich. It’s uh, it’s generational. They’ve always had the best in everything. The biggest homes, the fanciest clothes, the best cars. The strongest cellars.”
You weren’t quite sure where she was going with this. Part of you stifled your anger. You had worked your ass off through high school to just get the vague chance of a college education. All of that was shattered because of the girl next to you. All of that was something that you were starting to understand. That dull ache was thrumming in the pit of your stomach, ever eased by Kate’s presence.
“I’m sticking my foot in my mouth. None of that matters. Growing up with generations of lycanthropy and having it treated like a prize. It’s disjointing. My father believed that that pain made you stronger, and that embracing that rage instead of commuting it was the way to go. And I thought the same until I met Clint.”
Kate let out a wavering breath. She played with the rings on her fingers, twirling them around until there was a little red mark on her skin. It seemed to dissipate just as soon as it had appeared.
“I was thirteen the first time that I turned. And I begged, pleaded with everyone around me to do something, anything, that would ease the agony of that first transformation. I was met with the silent treatment. And… I was a child. I was a scared child that wanted comfort.”
You reached forward and placed a hand on her knee. There was an electricity that flowed through the both of you, a specific energy that buzzed in the same way it had with Wanda, but different somehow. Stronger and all-consuming. She placed her hand on top of yours.
“The night of the full moon, my father locked me in one of those strong cellars. There was no light, no comfort. Nothing but a musty prison that had a small window out of reach. It was just big enough to let in the moonlight. The walls, they were torn up and bloody. It was all I could smell and think about.”
Kate paused to pull in another breath. “For years, I was convinced that was the only way to do things. Embrace the pain and let it harden you. But things are done differently here, y/n. It’s not going to be easy, but you’re not going to be alone. You won’t be locked in a cellar to feel that pain. And I have no quarrels if you don’t want me there-“
“Kate,” you interrupted her, “I want you there. Because despite everything, your presence is reassuring and I think that’s what I’m going to need.”
She gave you a sad smile, yet somehow it was still endearing. There was an exhaustion that settled over you in the same moment. Your stomach was full, and your eyes were feeling heavy. Tentatively, you rested your head against her shoulder, embracing her scent and her comfort.
For a half a second, she tensed but melted just as you had. The silence was far from uncomfortable and you drifted into her protection, dropping into sleep with the sound of her heartbeat in tandem with your own.
The living room, despite it’s size, was filled to the brink with people that all turned their eyes to you upon arrival. You knew that this was coming, the introduction phase. It reminded you of college orientation without the stifling June heat that made it impossible to pull in a proper breath.
You still couldn’t draw in one correctly, not with this many eyes and this many smells. It was like ripping a band aid off and you were incredibly thankful that they had let you get a full nights sleep before springing this on you.
At some point, you had crashed on Kate’s shoulder on the plush carpet of your room. She’d moved you to the bed and you woke up there alone but well rested. It took you a few moments to gather yourself and shove the sadness of leaving your life to the back of your mind. There were things to do, people to meet.
Kate was next to you. She leaned on the edge of the closest sofa and let you take in everything- everyone- that lingered. One man stood at the forefront of it all. He was massive, well built in a way that his strength commanded the attention of the room. There was a kindness in his stare too, one that you admittedly admired right off the bat.
“Hello,” he said it so simply, reaching his massive hand out “I’m Steve.”
“Y/n” You took his hand and shook it timidly.
Steve glanced at the waiting faces around the room. Each one watched with bated breath for him to speak. You even found yourself entrapped by his mere stance. “Everyone, y/n is going to be staying with us for the foreseeable future. This is a situation that we have yet to encounter, and I expect each and every one of you to treat it with the respect and care it deserves.”
There were a few faces that you didn’t recognize, but they seemed to accept the decree. Kate’s hand found its way to the small of your back out of view of the others. It steadied you, though you didn’t know you were unsteady in the first place.
It was explained to you that you were quite the exception to the house. Wanda was clear about how this group had formed and nowhere was it stated that someone who had never turned before was here. Each and every person had a solid grip on who they were- what they were.
“Should we play an ice breaker?” A man that was spread across most of the middle seat on the section asked. He had darkened eyes, black hair that was spiked with an obscene amount of gel. “Two truths and a lie?”
Natasha smirked wolfishly “I like this game; Tony Stark is a humungous ass, Tony Stark is so full of himself he has six mirrors in his room, and Tony Stark wears sunglasses inside like a douche.”
“Second one is the lie; I have eight mirrors in my room and each and every one of them is necessary.”
You pursed your lips to stop the smile from spreading across your face. Natasha tossed a throw pillow and nailed him in the face. He shifted it into his lap, settling there with an eyeroll. Your view was blocked by a man that towered over you.
Steve was big. Tony was big. Clint was big. But this man was an absolute giant. He radiated a warmth that was unmatched and crunched you into a hug. Your cheek was pressed against his chest, and you gave it a pat.
“Don’t suffocate her,” Kate urged gently.
“My apologies Katie” He pulled back, keeping his massive hands on both of your shoulders “I’m Thor, you know, like the God of Thunder.”
“It fits,” You said with a smile.
There was a level of trust about him. Maybe it was his sheer size, or maybe it was his beaming smile that was nothing but genuine. He eased you more than most in the room. When he stepped aside, you were met with the last stranger in the room.
A man that seemed to draw within himself but still shook your hand with a practiced confidence. His button-down was wrinkled, his hair messy. He wore these thick rimmed glasses that enhanced his stare. There was a gentleness about him, a timidness.
“Bruce Banner, it’s great to meet you, y/n.”
They fit together like a family. All of these strangers that each had their individual quirks but were more than comfortable longing around, just existing in the same area. They’d all come from different backgrounds and chose to linger in this large house. They chose to be a group. A unit. A pack.
For a long time, America was the only one that was in your life, the only constant. Your parents were in the background; one worked too much and the other drank too much and neither cared all that much. Watching the way these strangers interacted, the community they created for themselves, made you feel like maybe it would be okay. Maybe all of this would be okay.
Steve cleared his throat and the room stilled, all eyes leading back to him. He scratched the back of his neck, uncomfortable with the attention for only a millisecond before he smoothed back into himself. “The full moon is in two weeks’ time. We know the drill, but y/n doesn’t. It’s going to be difficult and different, and we’re going to have to prepare.”
“I have drugs,” Yelena said. There was a silence that shrouded the room as everyone blinked dumbly at the woman. “What? Not anything heavy. But enough to sedate her!”
“We are not sedating her, we’ve been through this” Clint responded.
They’d spoken about this? Truthfully, from the accounts you had gotten from Kate and Wanda, you would be more than happy to take something to knock you out. Though it seemed important to feel the pain too. Almost like a right of passage.
“That is y/n’s decision to make.” Bruce said. He addressed you, making you feel less like an observer to your own fate. “One that you don’t have to make right now, might I add.”
Steve held his hand up, quieting everyone once more. “There are natural ways of doing things too. And trust us, y/n, we will break down every single option you have until you find a comfortable solution to the predicament. Don’t be afraid to ask questions.”
Your tongue was tied at the prospect, and soon the meeting was dismissed. They were weekly, you learned, and part of you didn’t mind. A house this size with that many people could get messy quickly without some sort of pecking order.
The library on the second floor was home to bound leather books that recounted the history of lycanthropy. It was warm up there, large windows letting in enough sunlight to show the particles of dust as they float in the air.
Not many people use this place. It was kept tidy but the scent that hung in the air was mainly aged paper and wood polish. You’d pulled one of the leather books from the shelf and curled up in the window seat. The pages were yellowed and brittle but filled with invaluable information.
This was the first moment in the last few days where your mind felt quiet. Your world was quiet.
Hours passed as you worked your way through literature, through Norse mythology of a curse, and pelts that would let men roam the countryside as wolves until they gained their lucidity again. There were diary entries from families that were descended from lunacy; the Bishops and Rodgers and Odinson’s and many more that you could not recognize.
You’d made it through two and half books before the light bouncing off the pages shifted to a vibrant orange of the sunset. You’d been left to your own devices for the day, and you rubbed your eyes, tired from the constant strain.
There was a quiet knock at the door and the scent of turkey filled your lungs. You blinked a few times. Steve leaned against the doorframe, holding a plate filled with a pile of potato chips and a sandwich. You’d again, forgotten to eat.
“I come in peace,” He said, entering the room and setting the plate of food on the table in the center of the room. He gestured to the other end of the window seat. “May I?”
You nodded, pulling your feet back and tucking them under yourself. “This is the second time in the last twenty-four hours that I’ve been bribed with food.”
 “It’s a love language around here. Learn anything interesting?”
“That a lot of werewolves are French and it’s much easier to be a one in the twenty first century.”
He chuckled and the sound was nice. It made sense that he was in charge. Being around him made things feel like they were solvable. The many answers floating around in your mind, the fears, could center into one concrete thing.
“The French gave us a bad name, I’m afraid. But you’re right about the second part. I wasn’t lying when I said that there are multiple ways to go about this.”
“Like drugs?”
“That’s one option, yes. Clint told me that one of the first things you were concerned about was keeping everyone around you safe.”
You nodded, pulling your legs up to your chest and resting your chin against them. The only reason you had gone along with all of this was to keep the people you love safe. That combined with the deep seeded feeling that all of this was real had lured you here, had kept you here.
“I’m trying not to be angry.” You admitted in a small, weak voice. “There is this deep rage that I could blame on whatever emotional distress these books outline. But nothing will change the fact that one minute I had a chemistry quiz due at midnight and the next I was waking up in a filth of rotted leaves and my own blood. And the only thing I can think about is that I have every right to hate her but I… I can’t.”
Steve was patient, silent in his ministrations. He turned a gold band on his ring finger around and around, much like Kate had. It was a nervous habit, something that soothed him, you supposed.
“I have always been able to handle anything that’s thrown at me. Always. Life has a mass of problems and those problems can be solved but this doesn’t feel real. It won’t feel real until I’m there but I’m- I’m scared. I’m so scared.”
You tried to smother the bloom of emotions in your chest, but it wasn’t working. There was an immense shame in cracking in front of Steve that you couldn’t quite explain but he seemed to have no quarrels about your tears or wiping them away with a calloused hand.
“This shouldn’t have happened.” He said with a shaky breath “And you have every right to be angry. I would be angry. No one expects you to forgive and we certainly don’t expect you to forget. What’s happened is unfair. But we can ease that fear.”
You swallowed hard, throat dry “how?”
“Well, drugs” He gave you a weak smile, and you snorted out a laugh. “But if we want to do things old school, that’s possible. It’s recommended, really. This place is built for people like us, and even though right now it feels like a curse, like a burden, maybe fate intervened.”
Your head thud softly against the bookcase behind you, “Fate carries the last name Bishop.”
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A Friendly Smile From the Past - 4
A/N: Thank you to everyone showing love for this series! Sorry for the late update was trying to figure out which way to take it - so it's a bit longer than the others. Let me know what you think!!
Also, one shot requests are open 😊
Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
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“It is. He’s out on bail.” Peter says and it feels like everything in my body has frozen. 
I don’t know how long I stand there but I can hear the others ask what is going on, Nat is squeezing my arm hard and I can feel Clint stand to hold me. My breathing is slow but intense and I feel panic entering my stream. My heartbeat is in my ears pounding drowning out people’s voices. What brings me to reality is Bucky, he moves to stand in front of me placing one of his hands on my cheek and whispering “Come back, it's okay beautiful girl, come back, come back to me”. 
I stare into those blue eyes of his, those eyes I feel the most safest in, the ones I used to seek refuge in, the ones that feel like home. “That’s it, you’re doing great, come back to me everything is going to be fine” He whispers softly moving his hand across my cheek in comfort as his eyes bore into mine. I lean into his hand that is on my cheek to savour his warmth, his touch. Once Bucky realises that I’m okay his hand drops from my face, clearing his throat as he distances himself. 
I clear my throat, looking at the floor to ground myself. “How long since you got the envelope?” I ask, my voice trembling over the words. 
“Two hours. I’ve been calling since we received it at the firm” Peter’s girlfriend MJ says. 
I wince and hold my hand out for the envelope. A soft squeak leaves my mouth as I feel Nat’s hand slap mine. “Do you know what it means if you take that in your possession?”
“I do, Nat. I’m a lawyer, I understand what a subpoena is. I know what this one entails and how it will ruin my career. We knew it was coming the moment he died. It was only a matter of when. I just didn’t realise it would be this fast” I say as I take the envelope from Peter’s hands. “You both did the right thing by bringing this to me asap. As of this moment, T’Challa will be your boss at the firm” I say trying to put a smile on my face. 
“What? No, you’re my boss” Peter says. I look at MJ “Remember the conversation we had when I hired you? Well, that time has come. I will be out of commission, but T'Challa will take you both as his interns. He may not pursue the same sort of cases I do but he is one heck of a good lawyer” I say softly and watch as she nods. “Come on Peter, it’s going to be okay. Let’s go” MJ says, tugging his arm as he just stands there in shock. 
“You’re both my favourites, don’t tell the others,” I say with a soft chuckle as I shoo them both out of the door of the bar. 
Once the door is shut, I lean back against it as tears threaten to fall. I bite my lip trying to hold my emotions back. I cannot cry in front of everyone, which is embarrassing. 
“What is happening? Will one of you explain what is going on?” Sam asks, breaking the silence. 
“We literally can’t,” Nat says, staring at the envelope now in my hands. 
“Why not? What is going on Y/N? We can help. I can help” Bucky says, his voice sounding panicked. Clint scoffs “I’m a detective and I can’t even help in this situation, how are you going to be of help when you don’t even know the depth of the situation? Now we all have to get out of here before they come knocking” 
“Who’s they? We are not leaving until we know what is going on” Tony says slamming his hand on the table to command attention and answers. 
*10 years ago*
Steve plops down onto the bench beside you as he had taken a hard tackle and the coach wanted him to rest and not make the pain worse. “You know pretty much the whole team has been staring at you for the last 10 minutes,” Steve says through a soft laugh as he leans over taking some of your chips. “Oh please, they have not,” I say as I swat his hand away watching the football team practice, my eyes landing on Bucky a soft smile itching its way onto my face. 
“When are you going to tell him how you feel?” Steve asks, catching my line of sight resulting in a deep blush spreading across my cheeks. “Just because you’re dating Nat doesn’t mean you can intrude on my life as she does,” I say slightly annoyed. “I just don’t want to ruin the bond we have, plus I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me in that way”. 
“Look I’m just saying you should, you never know what could happen,” Steve says, shrugging his shoulders and not taking my words to heart. He truly is the perfect guy for Nat. 
I shake my head before turning to face him “I’m not ready to tell him just yet, I just need some more time Steve” I sigh and watch as he scans my face before nodding “Okay” . 
“So, how are you asking Nat to prom?” I ask nudging him with my elbow and wiggling my eyebrows, causing him to laugh. “Who said I haven’t asked her already?” He responds hand placed over his heart pretending to be hurt. “Well dummy, she tells me everything,” I say giggling softly. “ I know, which is why I can’t tell you how I’m doing it because then she won’t be surprised!” He says, narrowing his eyes at me “Because you would blab to her the moment you left this bench” . I pause and take a dramatic gasp “ Me? Spilling the beans… how dare you accuse me of something like that?!” I say trying to keep my face in shock but it’s hard to contain and we both start laughing our heads off. 
During that time practice had concluded and Bucky was standing in front of the both of you blocking the sun which made you look up at him. I couldn’t hold the smile that wanted to tear across my face as he stood there all sweaty making him look even more handsome if that is even possible. I hand him his water bottle and blush at the “thanks doll” that leaves his lips. 
“Are you still okay with studying after I take a shower?” He asks “Yeah of course!” I say which results in a large grin on his face which seems to drop as Brock approaches us. Brock nods at both of the boys as he runs his towel over his face to wipe his sweat. “Rumlow” both of them respond. 
“You boys mind if I pull Y/N aside for a bit?” Brock asks softly as he reaches for my hand. I watch Bucky’s face which seems to hold a form of anger as his jaw is clenched before he slowly shakes his head no. 
“What’s up, Brock?” I ask after he’s dragged me away from Bucky and Steve. I can feel their gazes on my back and I know they’ll always have my back. “I was wondering if you have a date to prom?” He asks as he reaches into his bag and pulls out a teddy with the words “prom?” written across its stomach. “Oh, I” I stutter softly looking back over at Bucky who isn’t even looking at us. I feel an ache in my stomach and a frown begins on my face as I realise that Bucky probably doesn’t want to go to prom together like we always talked about. 
“You didn’t hear about Bucky asking Dot to prom did you?” Brock’s voice interrupts my thoughts and I shake my head and try to hold my tears back. Of course, he doesn’t think about me that way, I’m not his type at all. “I thought you deserve better than him, so go to prom with me?” He asks as he holds the teddy in front of him and pouts which makes me laugh. I sigh softly, looking over my shoulder at Bucky who’s talking to Steve, my eyes connect with Steve’s and he just shrugs. I turn back to Brock and nod my head “Yeah okay, I’ll go with you” . 
Befriending Rumlow had been the beginning of the end. 
3 months later
“Oh come on Bucky! You gotta smile” I say, holding the camera in front of my face trying to take a photo of him. I can’t help but laugh at the glare back I receive. “I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t for a grade,” I say softly, putting the camera down, and taking a seat beside him on his bed. I reach for my laptop to look at the previous photos of him taken for my portfolio. “Why didn’t you ask Rumlow, you seem to be spending a lot of time with him”. 
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What? I asked you at the start of the year. Why would I backtrack on something we confirmed on doing?” I ask to take a peek at him from the side. The light catches the top half of his face making his brown hair look lighter and his eyes shine. The sun captures how handsome he looks and I can’t help but sigh as he looks quite dreamy.  I grab my camera while he mumbles something while I take the picture. As I go back to look at the picture, I gasp. “It’s perfect!” I squeal, shoving the camera in Bucky’s face. “Look! This is the perfect last photo!!” I say as I wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze him tight. 
Bucky softly shoves me off of him and my smile falls. “Did you even listen to a word I said before?”. “Bucket you were mumbling, you know I don’t know what you’re saying when you mumble and I was in the moment, I had to capture it! What were you saying, I’m all ears now,” I say, placing my hand on his arm and squeezing softly. 
He sighs and shoves the camera in my hands. “You know what, just forget about it. It’s not important” he says, his eyes roaming over my face, his stare intense making my heart beat fast. I gaze down at his lips; they look soft and kissable. My phone begins to ring, I grab it to see who’s calling “Oh, it’s Rumlow, I gotta take it” and I hear Bucky sigh as I head into the hallway. 
After hanging up the phone I notice Bucky staring at the photo frame on his bedside table. It’s a split photo of the two of us, one side is a few months after we had met and the other side is us replicating the photo on the other last year. I walk up to him and rub his shoulder and lean my head on his shoulder to take a look at the photo too. 
“Buck, do you mind if I leave? I have to meet Rumlow” I say softly into his ear. “Yeah. Whatever” He says, his voice cold and harsh. “Is something wrong?” I asked pulling away from him. 
“You always spend all your time with Rumlow now. You barely have time for your friends. The ones who actually matter.” He spits out. 
“That’s not fair Buck. You spend all your time with Dot which leaves little time for me to hang out with you. So, I hang out with Rumlow instead because Steve and Nat are all lovey-dovey and I don’t want to be the third wheel all the time with them because you’re not around anymore. I’m allowed to have other friends when you’re busy.”  
“Rumlow is not who you want to be hanging out with. He’s not who you want as your boyfriend. He’s not good for you” I recoil from his words and tone. “Since when was Rumlow, my boyfriend? He and I are just friends, and you do not get to judge someone you barely know.” 
“Oh please, that’s not what he’s been saying in the locker room. Boys talk, you know.” Bucky says, stepping towards me. “I’m just looking out for you. You have to stay away from him Y/N/N, for me please?” He reaches for me, his voice sounding pleading but I recoil from his touch. “Stop trying to dictate my life of who I can be friends with and who I can’t. You’ve barely been in it these past few months to even know what I’ve been doing. This is the first time we have hung out in months and only because you texted saying ‘you were obligated’ ” I say quoting what he had sent. I watch his eyes darken and I know he is simmering with anger, but so am I. 
“I have to rely on Steve to know how you are doing these days. You never respond to my messages and ignore me at school because you’re always with Dot. Since you felt ‘obligated’ to get this done and you don’t seem to have time anymore, I don’t think we should be friends” I say looking at the ground barely believing the words coming out of my mouth. I know they are said in anger but I can’t help but say them out of feeling hurt. I try to hold back the tears in my eyes not wanting him to see how upset I feel.
“I agree, this seems to be more of an obligation now than friendship.” He spits out as he begins grabbing my things and shoving them into my hands. I bite my lip to keep from crying 
and hold onto them walking out of his room, not responding to his mum on the way out. 
That was one of the worst fights I’ve ever had with Bucky since we’ve known each other. I knew it was my jealousy that had dictated my anger then but I couldn’t help the hurt I felt. I would spend all my free time with Bucky, we would do everything together. But ever since he started dating Dot it felt like I had been cast aside and Rumlow had been there to help fill in the time. Bucky and I had made up two weeks later after Steve and Nat had shoved us into Steve’s basement closet and locked the door. They wouldn’t let us leave until we had made up. It took a while for us to get back to where we were but we did it. It was mainly because it was always us no matter what.
*Present*
I always look back to the moment when Bucky told me not to become friends with Rumlow years ago because I wish I had taken his advice, I would not be facing the situation I am in now. I feel a hand on my cheek wiping my tears away and I notice that I had let them fall. I look straight into Clint’s eyes and see fear. “Come on Sugar, we HAVE to go now. I got a message saying he’s left the station now.” He says his voice wobbling as he helps you to his feet. 
Headlights shine through the glass of the bar window. “It’s too late” you mumble into Clint’s chest, looking over his shoulder and catching Bucky’s eyes. There are questions, worries and fear swimming in those beautiful blues. He begins to take a step closer and you shake your head slowly. 
“Everyone out the back alley,” Nat says nodding to the storage room door. “Uh, I don’t remember this bar ever having a door leading to the alley,” Wanda says confused. “We gotta go now, meet us at this apartment, there’s a spare key in the pot plant - we’ll explain later. You guys have to go now!” She whispers, pushing them towards the storage room, pulling a rack off the shelf and showing a doorknob. “Go now. We’ll see you later, you guys can’t be caught up in this” and with that she slams the door, placing the rack back into position. 
Once Nat shuts the door to the storage room and walks over to us, the bell to the bar rings. You pull away from Clint’s hold and focus on the person who walked through the door. 
“Fancy seeing you guys here.” He spits out “Aren’t you gonna hug me Y/N? I sure did miss my wife” Brock spits out opening his arms out for a hug as a joke and I feel the acid travelling up my throat.
<- Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter
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m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s · 1 month
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☆*:.。. That One AU .。.:*☆
psa: these are in no specific order, as i prefer to keep you guessing :)
☆*:.。. snippets .。.:*☆
☆ snippet #1
☆ snippet #2
☆ snippet #3
☆ snippet #4
☆ snippet #5
☆ snippet #6
☆ snippet #7
☆ snippet #8
☆ snippet #9
☆ snippet #10
☆ snippet #11
☆ snippet #12
☆*:.。. .。.:*☆
☆*:.。. the chronicles .。.:*☆
☆ chronicle I
☆ chronicle II
☆*:.。. .。.:*☆
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literaryavenger · 10 days
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If you’re still taking requests can I ask that you do a Bucky x Reader but the reader has the ability to see through the fourth wall? Could it also be angst with a healthy amount of fluff at the end :)
I was so excited when I got this request because it gave me an idea for a one-shot with Deadpool, and I don't know how I haven't done one already, but then I started thinking.
Aren't all fics basically breaking the fourth wall? So if whoever asked me this could send me another ask, even anonymous again I don't care, and explain a little better this request? Thank you!
Btw, yes, I'm still working on the requests I already got, it's just taking me a little time.
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One: “Thanks, I Hate You”
You and your arrogant PR client are bitter rivals, and there’s no length Loki won’t go to just to watch you squirm. Just when you think you’re going to get a much-needed break from the Great Redeemed Prince’s ego, you’re tapped to escort him to, of all things, a peace summit in Australia. 
CONTENT WARNING: Loki's an asshole
WORD COUNT: 3.4k
MASTERLIST
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“Mr. Odinson, tell me, how does it feel to be reformed for eighteen months now?”
“Mr. Laufeyson, actually, and it feels absolutely incredible, it’s as if my soul is free at last!”
“And you have no more genocidal urges or Asgardian instincts to kill?”
“Never again will I do harm to the people of this planet, who have so kindly agreed to give me a second chance after removing the influence of my--err---the scepter.”
Loki’s shit-eating grin unfolded across his face, but to the untrained eye, he looked every bit the contrite warlord who fell in love with the world he’d once targeted for conquest. He could twitch and tweak every muscle in his face into the optimal layout for ass-kissing, and the only ones who were ever wise were you and the rest of the team. 
“At least he plays the part well,” you said bitterly to Tony, leaning over to mutter in his ear while watching the former ‘God’ play up the press like they were at a rock concert. Some of the reporters looked downright charmed, but you knew better. You were more interested in the snow flurries that were falling outside the window.
Tony shrugged. “Yeah, he’s okay.”
You sneered, rolling your eyes with disbelief. “Until the flash bulbs stop. Then he becomes a baboon’s taint.” 
Stark muffled a snort of laughter with his fist. “Always one for eloquence. That’s why I hired you.”
“I’m also the only one around willing to wrangle that,” you paused, pointing at Loki as he folded his hands into a prayer pose, expressing gratitude for the praise he was receiving, “for your pittance of an asking price.” 
“I pay you well,” Tony shot back in defense. “Loki knows how to keep up appearances--”
“--he took off his pants in the lunchroom yesterday to annoy me--” 
“--most of the time.” 
You folded your arms across your chest, glancing at the clock on the wall behind Loki as things in the press room wrapped up. In his very basic outfit: a dress shirt and tie, black slacks, and a tight, professional ponytail, he looked dashing enough. You’d known the truth about him for the eighteen months since you were hired to be his PR manager: Loki had all of the behavioral maturity of an eight-year-old high on pixie sticks.  He loved attention, always jutting out his hips when he strutted about the complex, flipping his hair over his shoulder. 
Loki loved to paint himself as the very model of a modern major comeback story. At first, it was for self-preservation. The terms of his parole as set forth by the UN were strict, and the best course of action to keep his freedom was to play by their rules. Over the next year-and-a-half, however, once it was clear that his image was evolving into that of a celebrity, Loki took the idea and ran with it, and he only used your unsavory opinion of his to fuel the fire he lit under your feet every chance he got.
It was almost as if he targeted you with most of his snarks and jests, always calling you every synonym for ‘boring’ he could muster. For a while, you could brush him off, but after the repeated comments, you began to push back…which led you to your current relationship status: tense at best, resentful and irritable more frequently. 
You could not stand him! He never listened to your advice on how to conduct himself in public. One of his favorite pastimes was inviting the worst kinds of people over for sex, and then making you call them afterwards to dump them. “Loki isn’t sure he’s ready to fully commit to one person yet, but last night will always live in his memory…” It was degrading, gross, and such a slimeball move. You always sent each of his poor conquests a fruit basket the size of SoHo. 
The only reason you refused to resign was that you really needed the money. Despite your repeated complaints, Tony was actually paying you very well. You could afford an apartment with a private toilet in Manhattan, anyway. 
“And that’s all we have time for this afternoon, everyone,” Tony leapt onto the stage and gently nudged Loki away from the podium.  “We’re all proud of Loki’s rehabilitation, as well as his decision to live among us and help the Avengers keep this world safe.” 
The applause was thunderous. You bit your lower lip and got another glimpse of the snow squall outside while Loki bowed and mouthed thanks to his supporters. Every second you could successfully divert your attention away from the Asgardian was a victory. Alas, it was temporary. 
As soon as he left the stage, he gave you a smarmy, evil wink. “Better than ever, wouldn’t you say?”
“Hercules couldn’t clean out all the bullshit in your stables, Loki,” you said with an exasperated sigh. 
“Successfully convincing the world of your contrition is an art, you know.”
“So is painting on walls with shit, to some.”
Loki couldn’t help but snicker under his breath, You were the most feisty woman he’d ever met, aside from maybe Natasha Romanoff. “I see we’re fond of the scatalogical comebacks today. Doesn’t that mean your menses are coming on?”
You could have whirled around on your heels and punched him, but your restraint was enough to keep your professional demeanor, at least until you were out of public sight and in one of the private areas. There were still a LOT of people around and your entire job was keeping up appearances for both yourself and your charge. “I have a headache today, Loki, please shut up and let me do my job.” 
“So it is your cycle!” he chortled, putting his hands on his hips. “Do you know what they say helps with menstrual cramps?”
“Don’t!” you warned between gritting teeth, giving Loki a glare of death. “I mean it!”
Loki paused, as if he was actually going to listen. Then he opened his trap, and it came out: “a good hard dicking!” 
There it was. Your line. Loki had crossed it so far that he was about to meet customs on the other side. 
You slapped him across his right cheek hard enough for his head to whip to the side. Of course, he was able to recover from it quickly, only to pout his lips and widen his eyes when several gasps from the reporters still in the press room silenced everything else. Loki’s snarky smile never left his face, especially as he looked back at you with a somewhat more venomous twinge. 
“It’s 2024,” you scowled, “try something less sexist than blaming my period next time, assbag.”
“So violent,” he said lightly. “So attractive. No wonder you have so many dates…oh wait, that’s me!” he said mockingly, putting a hand over his heart and acting surprised. “I have all the dates, and you’re the one who resents that and takes it out on me by hitting me in front of all of my friends!” 
He dropped his sarcastic smile, replacing it with narrow, threatening eyes and a thin frown. “Embarrass me like that again, woman, I dare you.” 
“I only resent that you make me clean your dirty sheets afterwards, asshole,” you answered. “I don’t really care how many strains of herpes you intend to collect from the Greater New York area. You’re a pampered little twat, and I really do deserve more money for babysitting you.”
You started to leave, but you quickly thought better of it and walked back to say one more thing. “And I will gladly smack you in front of these people any day of the week! No one else is going to put you in your place!”
“And what place is that, Madam?” he asked, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow. 
Nearby, a young blonde reporter who was clearly one of Loki’s fans had taken special interest, and was trying to shoot as many desperate glances at him as she could, asking for her turn in his bed with only verbal cues from across a crowded room. 
“I’d say Hell, but you probably have a permanent residence there already.” 
You noticed the blonde was starting to inch closer, and in her stupid, beady little eyes you saw your escape. “I think I see your Skank of the Day coming in for the steal right now.”
Loki turned to look at the blonde reporter, and he looked somewhat unimpressed. “I suppose. The only other creature in here with any sort of beauty is--”
He stopped mid-thought and decided to go back into his debonair facade, waving you away snobbishly and sticking his nose up. “You’re done for the day, I think. Now please leave me to woo this exquisite little doll who approaches…”
You did have some work you needed him for. There was a peace summit in Australia hosted by Amnesty International, and Loki was a keynote speaker, having been spared from the death penalty and turned into the Earth’s darling. He was the world’s most instantly-recognizable proof that anyone could be rehabilitated, which made him a highly desirable motivational speaker. The summit was in three days, and you needed to brief him on the PR person taking over your duties once he crossed the international dateline. 
He could terrorize the Land Down Under for five days all he wanted. You were about to have your first vacation from the miserable fucker since starting your job. This was going to be your Christmas. 
However, you didn’t feel like dragging him away from the little hopeful moving in on him, and instead you decided to begin packing your bag for your long-desired break from Loki. 
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“She what?!” you growled in anger, turning away from Stark and Banner to hide that fact that you were almost instantly upset by their news. 
“Mrs. Donner resigned yesterday,” said Bruce Banner, twiddling his thumbs apprehensively, making him look like a human-sized pangolin. “She’s not taking Loki to Australia.”
“WHY NOT? She’s more qualified than I am!” you bullshitted, doing anything to try and convince these two to go after her. You knew what this meant, but you weren’t ready to accept it just yet. You were a fighter, and you sure as hell weren’t going to sacrifice your time off now.
“She’s also a Mormon. I’m surprised she put up with Loki’s harassment as long as she has,” replied Banner. 
“Or maybe she enjoyed it so much she had to jet off to Planet More-Men or whatever heaven is for them,” Stark mumbled. 
“It doesn’t matter,” you said, brushing the air in front of you as if erasing something off of an invisible chalk board, “what does matter is who we are going to send him with. His parole terms state he cannot cross international boundaries alone.” 
“C”mon, Y/N, you know where this is going!” said Tony with a wink. 
“No,” you said firmly.
“It’ll be summer down there,” said Banner, “It’ll be nicer than here in New York.”
“No!” you repeated. “My vacation!”
Stark rolled his eyes. “I know, I know, that’s why I’m offering you a month’s paid sabbatical after you return.”
“No…I…what?” your fast, angry thoughts slowed on the conveyor belt as you began processing his counteroffer. “I was only scheduled for a week!” 
Tony nodded. “Yeah, I’m quadrupling that right now, I’ll even get it in writing if you want. I can do that. I’m awesome like that.”
A month! A month without Loki poking fun of your ‘menses’ or humiliating you with jests and quips under his breath. A whole month of sleeping in late, dressing like a slob, and not worrying about how you or any client of yours appeared to the public. Tony Stark certainly knew how to play your game. 
“You must be desperate,” you sighed, thinking about it.
“Well, if Loki can’t attend the summit, it’ll look kinda bad,” Bruce added, his low, bashful voice somewhat harder to hear than Tony’s confident tone. 
“I’ll get you VIP passes to any club in the city for the whole month you’re off,” Tony added. “Four of them. And unlimited cocktail service. Live like a movie star for the next month, and all you have to do is babysit our little horndog for five days in Aussieland this week.” 
“Deal,” you acquiesced at last, not missing a beat. “I’ll do it.”
“Excellent.” 
All three of you turned your heads toward the intrusive new voice in the room. Loki was leaning against the doorway to the office, arms folded, a shit-eating sneer on his face. You felt your skin go hot at his sudden, unwelcome appearance. 
“I was hoping that my exertions manipulating that old dowager into quitting would bear fruit, and now it seems I’m just time for my little trip with my dearest friend in the Realm!” 
“Easy, Lokes,” said Stark, holding back a laugh. “Don’t push it, ok?”
You bit your lip to keep your temper. It didn’t make any difference if you kept protesting. You’d taken Stark’s carrot, and now you had five days of this jester’s extraterrestrial farts to sniff.
“Oh, I’m sure the next few days will include plenty of pushing about,” said Loki. 
Tony raised an eyebrow and began following Banner as he snuck out of the room. “Be on the roof tomorrow morning. Oh, and uh, the quinjet has got some issues so it can’t go any faster than Mach 1.5 right now. Means it’ll take a little longer to get out there. Hope you two can get comfortable with one another real fast.” 
“You…you set this up,” you hissed, your anger bubbling to the surface now that your employer was out of range. “I ought to ask your father to hang you.”
This only made him laugh. “He would only love the pleasure, I’m sure.”
And I would love to see your corpse swinging by the neck, you thought.  “Why? Why did you do this?” you asked with frustration. “You hate me and I absolutely hate you, Loki, so why force us to be in closer proximity for longer than necessary?”
“Oh, I couldn’t stand the idea of being apart from you, sweet pea! It’s my greatest delight in life to always hover five paces behind you and piss you off. The mere idea of being so far away for so long!” Loki brought a mocking hand to his heart, expressing fake sadness in both his body and face. “My heart would only cry for you.”
“I should just make you go alone and make an ass of yourself,” you suggested. “Maybe some Australian hell-beast will swallow you whole.”
“Oh-ho! By all means,” Loki chuckled, throwing his head back. “Let me loose without supervision in a foreign country as the sole representative of the United States, the Nine Realms, and the Avengers. That will go over well for all of us.”
Your jaw hung open, no witty retorts for him, Unfortunately, he was right. Punking out would in one way or another, only serve to humiliate yourself and Stark.
“Ah, ah…” Loki tucked a finger under your chin, nudging your mouth closed by poking your chin upward, “You’ll catch flies.” 
He left you there, speechless in the middle of the room, only turning back in the doorway to add: “I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, darling!”
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Before going to bed that night, curled up in your sad little futon in your one-bedroom loft, you prayed to every god that wasn’t Asgardian that there would be some kind of apocalyptic blizzard that popped up out of nowhere, forcing the takeoff to be delayed. Inclement weather was probably the only acceptable excuse for Loki to be a no-show down in Sydney. WHile the city didn;t necessarily get as much snow as upstate near the lakes, it usually took a few inches to shut the whole place down. There was hope. Perhaps the weatherfolks were keeping it a surprise…
This meant, of course, that the next morning was the first perfectly sunny morning New York had seen in weeks. In a small act of rebellion against the little shit you had to babysit, you chose to take your sweet time getting in. You purposefully dragged your feet down to the subway, your suitcase dragging along like a weight tethered to your wrist. You saw an abnormally-long line outside of a coffee shop and decided to stop in for an Americano. 
By the time you made it to the rooftop of Stark Tower, you were over an hour late, which was not typical for you. The jet was otherwise prepped, the diminutive young pilot tapping his feet impatiently by the nose, Stark and Loki just tossing the last of his belongings in around the side. 
“Look who finally decided to grace us with her presence,” said Tony. 
Loki dropped what he was doing and shuffled up to you. He gave a mock bow, taking your hand and laying a big wet kiss on the back of it. “My escort, how lovely to finally see your bright face ready for our trip!”
“Die.”
Loki pouted. “Oh, is that any way to greet your business partner? I asked for you to be at my side all week long! Don’t you think I’m owed a little more courtesy?”
“Please die.”
“That’s my girl.” 
Just before you boarded, Tony gave you a wink and one last piece of advice: “Remember, when the going gets tough, lie back and think of England.”
The last thing he saw before the doors shut was your middle finger. 
Once the pilot got the quinjet into the air, he announced that he’d need to take his time in order to appease whatever yet-to-be-diagnosed tech issue the plane had, and prevent something from happening. 
“Ugh, so what’s our ETA, then?” Loki asked impatiently, the saccharine facade dropping the instant he was out of Stark’s view. 
The pilot shrugged. “I can get us there safely in five hours, maybe.”
“FIVE HOURS?” you groaned. “This thing is--”
“--gonna disintegrate if I don’t treat it gently,” he shot back. “Relax! It’s still a hell of a lot faster than if you were flying in a Boeing, okay?”
You and Loki looked at each other with annoyance. You sighed and went to sit as far away from the cockpit as you could, taking a green-jacketed book from your shoulder bag and flipping it open a bit too dramatically. 
Unfortunately, Loki didn’t seem to take the hint, sitting beside you and peeking over your shoulder. 
“You kept us waiting on purpose,” he accused. “You’re a bit of a brat, you know.”
You couldn’t take it anymore. Gently shutting the book, you turned to Loki with the most serious expression you could muster without losing your professionalism. 
“Look, Laufeyson, you’re the one who set this up for us. If I had to venture a guess, it’s because you’re bored and needed a new way to make me miserable. But let’s make one thing perfectly clear: I hate you. I can’t stand your smarmy face and how you get off on making me crazy! Every time you open your mouth, it makes me want to drop-kick an orphan! I’d rather have a root canal while on ecstasy every day for the rest of my life than be sitting right here next to you.”
Loki didn’t blink. “...and how does that make you feel?”
“But I’m getting my big payout when this is all over, so for FUCK’S SAKE, let’s make this easy on both of us? You don’t bother me, I won’t bother you. You can find a kangaroo’s pouch to ride around in for all I care.” You went to open your book again, but Loki laid a firm hand over top of it. 
“I’m hurt. Truly.”
You snickered. “Sure.”
“You know what your problem is?” Loki leaned back, crossing his hands casually. “You’re too uptight.”
“Uptight? You call me defending myself against all of your abuse UPTIGHT?” you growled from behind your gritted teeth. 
“Well, it wasn’t abuse at first,” Loki added, “I was only making jokes to say hello!”
“Bullshit,” you said angrily. “The day we met, you called me a servant and asked if I would massage your feet.”
“Well, now it’s just fun for me to watch you lose your temper,” he admitted. “The thought of being alone with you to twist and push every button you’ve got just to see how loudly you’d shout…”
“Stop it, Loki! I’d rather this plane go down right now than be alone with you. Ever!”
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dstrt1xn · 16 days
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Into That Good Night by Nonymos
EPUB TYPESET
fanvid by JERICHO on YouTube
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cover by me
Steve Rogers has lived for entirely too long—long enough to see the world's end. The heroes are gone, and the Earth is pushing what's left of mankind towards the exit.
But when a makeshift team rises from the ashes, when a mysterious presence all but drags Steve there, he begins to think there may be hope yet. As they shoot for the stars one last time, Steve will get proof yet again that the future is nothing if not an echo of the past.
Please, go leave a like and a comment for this amazing author. I don't know about you, but Marvel could've taken some cues from Nonymos on how the first 2 phases should've ended.
I was honoured to be given permission to typeset this fic. It will work on any and all ereaders, as far as my knowledge stretches, and is completely customisable.
Do not go gentle into that good night...
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unholyhelbig · 4 days
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I for one would not mind more werewolf kate
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Title: Once Bitten, Twice the Idiot [6/?]
Summary: After reader is attacked by a strange animal in the woods, her world is flipped upside down. Now she must navigate a new life filled with strangers and myths.
Trigger warnings: Hunting, the actual werewolf transformation, restraints (hands, legs, neck), bloody & Gore, pet names, let me know if I've forgotten anything pls.
[Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six]
[A/n: I was really fucking sad when I wrote this, and for that, I apoloigize. This isn't a gentle chapter, so please read with caution. And as always, I did not proof read].
Main Masterlist | Ao3 | Request Prompts
A rot of leaves coated the forest floor, filling your lungs with an unsettling pungent scent. The world had blurred edges, somehow caving in on itself with each passing second. The trees whizzed past you, an ache that once covered your entire being had ebbed away the faster you ran.
There was such an intoxicating scent that led you blindly. It was floral and sweet and screamed above all the deteriorating vegetation. You’d run so far, so fast and without hesitation. What was that? You needed to sink your teeth into it, to taste it. You would simply die if you didn’t.
It was a girl. Yes. A girl.
She was running too, but not nearly with enough speed as you. She stumbled over fallen logs and branches dug into her skin. They created gashes of dripping red that made you salivate. She was cornered against a fence, fingers curling around the chain link.
You regarded her, taking a moment to register the hot pain in your chest. How far had you followed her? It was ways from home, you knew that much, but none of that seemed to matter. No- because she was right in front of you, and she was captivating.
In your excitement, you took a careful step forward and a small noise escaped her throat. Her eyes were frantic as she took in your hulking and animalistic stature. She was afraid, and part of you was too. Something had led you to her, to this sadistic chase that had cornered you both.
Her blood tasted sweet just like her scent. Your teeth crushed bone, tore through tendons with such a simple ease.
She was yours.
Sweat had soaked through your sheets and clung to your bare legs, even as you shot up and pulled in a helping of air. Your skin buzzed as if it were set ablaze with fever.  The waning moon cast a sickly pale light against the room. Your heart pounded ruthlessly against your chest.
That dream had left you antsy, and horrified. You never remembered your dreams but this one was vivid, almost like it was a memory. The coppery taste made your mouth dry. You were restless, wide awake despite the red numbers on the clock indicating that it was just past 3:00am.
You couldn’t hear anything through the walls that had been doubled down in strength despite your enhanced senses. The house was as good as silent, though you figured it statistically impossible for everyone to be asleep.
The hallway was dark compared to your room, filled with moonlight. You padded a few steps before you stopped in front of Kate’s door. It pained you to be here, begging for some type of comfort. The dream had left you rattled. Afraid.
It was getting closer to the full moon and your thoughts had been plagued with the pain that you’d read about so diligently. Scanning the inked words on a yellowing page was nothing compared to the experience of it all.
Swallowing your pride, you knocked twice, knowing that she could hear you. It took Kate a few moments to untangle herself from her blankets. You could pick up on her stumbling her way across her room until she swung the door open.
The girl tried to be suave, giving you a tired smile as she leaned against her doorframe. Her hair was sleep-worn and springing in various directions. She wore a pair of boxers with little purple arrows against the fabric and a tank top that was riding up enough to expose the smooth expanse of her stomach.
“Hi,” You swallowed the dryness in your throat, pulling your eyes from her muscular frame. Her cheeks were blooming with a fond pinkness. “I couldn’t sleep.”
You didn’t want to admit that you were freezing, that the sweat you’d produced during the odd dream had dried taught against your skin. A shiver worked its way through you, and you crossed your arms over your midsection, trying to preserve what warmth you had left.
Kate lilted her head and stepped to the side without a second thought. She beaconed you into her room. The curtains were drawn, blocking out the light of the moon. Her comforter was drawn back, pillows scattered against her bed. She must have been engulfed in a deep and comfortable sleep, one that you had broken.
It helped, not being able to see the looming structure of the moon. It made you squirm, but the scent that engulfed you, the pure warmth of Kate’s mere presence, calmed your nerves. When she shut the door softly you knew that you were safe with her.
The wolf, that’s what Wanda had called it, knew what it wanted. She said that there was a blind trust that would flow through you with the girl that you’d crawled to and that feeling was only multiplying as the full moon got closer and closer.
“Don’t… say a word.” You turned to her, crossing your arms over your chest.
Despite your warning, she smiled wolfishly at you, lifting both of her hands with an innocent shrug. She looked adorably miffed by exhaustion, and that thought annoyed you more than anything. God, you really should hate her. But she looked so warm, so accepting and every inch of your body was howling for her skin against yours.
Kate settled back into bed and peeled back the duvet with an expectant look on her face. Why were you fighting her so hard? Clearly, you were tired. You’d knocked on her door and you hadn’t done that without reason. If you wanted conversation, you would have found Peter and interrupted his late night gaming.
Or maybe even Natasha who couldn’t sleep, just like you. But you did value your life, just a little bit. So Kate it was, a magnet that drew you in. The more exhausted you got, the harder it was to pull away. And really- she had been trying. Right?
Almost as if on instinct, you took her up on her offer and slid into the encompassing warmth of the duvet. There was the scent of lavender, of freshly washed sheets and the metallic breath that she drew in, almost as if she was just as shocked as you were at the action.
Kate cautiously lowered the blanket and the two of you stared at the little glowing stars on her ceiling. You hadn’t seen them since the fifth grade. America didn’t’ have the deep green celestial patterns, but instead a garden of pulsing orange and purple, and yellow flowers.
You could feel the heat of Kate’s shoulder close to yours. You were so cold, even under the blankets and she seemed like the only source of comfort from the dream that lingered so heavily on your mind.
“Do you think…”
The words died in your throat. She turned her head to face you, and after a few moments of building up the courage you turned your cheek against the pillow too, staring into a cloudy grey stare that was marred with sleep, pockmarked with questions.
“Will I ever be able to see them again?” your voice was pinched with emotion. It was fear, the both of you recognized it. Her eyes glossed over, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth to stop it from trembling. You felt emotion well up in your own chest. “I know things will never be normal again, but do you think there’s a chance?”
Kate swallowed the thickness in her throat, voice barely a whisper. “I do.”
You nodded and dislodged the tears that were fighting for dominance. Kate didn’t’ hesitate to reach up and wipe them away with her gentle touch. Her thumb was calloused, but soft. A whimper escaped you as you leaned into her touch. Kate shivered at the contact herself.
“I get why I’m here and I’m grateful for it. The last thing I want to do…” you trained off, listening to the shuttered sound of her breathing. “I don’t want to hurt anyone, ever.”
“You won’t, y/n.”
The immediacy of her statement brought you comfort. It wasn’t necessarily a reflex, but a belief that she felt deep in her core. You clenched your eyes shut and scooted closer until you felt the full effect of Kate’s presence.
The movements were gentle as you slotted yourself against her, hand laying on her stomach and moving over the softness of her shirt. She held her breath for a moment, instinctively wrapping her arm around you. You pressed your nose against the naïve of her neck, slick with tears of her own.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She quivered with guilt.
You were starting to understand, against your better judgement, why this had happened. Kate found you for a reason, and that tension, that discomfort, that was your wolf fighting for a way to get to her. And you had.
The tears that wet her shirt, the ones that coated your cheeks, they were those of relief. You curled into Kate, taking in her scent, the two of you gripping onto each other like a vice, eventually drifting towards a fitful sleep, shadowed by stars.
There was no such thing as privacy in a house with eleven people. Not when so many of them had a strict regimen of exercise, and healthy eating. There was a stark difference from life at the dorm where people rarely arose before twelve in the afternoon unless they had class, and even that was a gamble.
Instead, you stirred to the sound of a blender and the hushed voices of an indiscernible conversation. That was followed by a very discernible sound of a cell phone camera. Even without advanced hearing, you clocked it in moments.
A small groan escaped you. It was much too early to wake up. You had never been more comfortable in your life, your nose pressed flush against the crook of Kate’s neck. She shifted in her sleep, pulling you closer with an adorably tiny breath.
“Go away,” she grumbled, the words vibrating against your palm.
 You tightened your grip on the fabric of her shirt. God, it was so bright. They’d pulled the curtains back and the sun was in full force. Despite the comfort, there was no way you’d drift back into sleep. That fact alone was solidified when you bolted up at the clearing of someone’s throat.
An odd hurriedness shot through your spine, forehead knocking against Kate’s chin and leaving a throbbing spot in its wake. The girl that was under you let out another small noise at the back of her throat, rubbing her jaw while depriving the world of her stormy stare.
Natasha Romanoff leaned against the doorframe of Kate’s bedroom. Wanda had been very clear about the rank in the house, and it was of no shock to you that Natasha was pretty high up there. It was why her simple sound of alert had made your entire body tingle. You knew- your wolf knew- that she was in charge, and that she was there for you.
“I checked your room first,” She stated matter-of-factly. “Obviously, you weren’t there.”
Your cheeks reddened at the predicament you’d found yourself in, and the fact that you were sure you’d heard the click of a cell phone camera. It was almost like your parents walking in on a sleepover that got a little too cozy.
Kate sat up groggily, testing her jaw a few times, “Good morning, Nat. To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“You can go back to sleep. I’m here for y/n. We’re going on a run.”
The wary look you got from the girl in bed next to you wasn’t exactly easing your nerves. She must have gone through this before, and she would truly object if she thought it was something you couldn’t handle. Instead, her hand found yours under the safety of the duvet and gave your fingers an encouraging squeeze.
You knew better than to object to Natasha, so you followed her orders and changed into the closest thing to workout clothes that you’d packed; a pair of royal blue gym shorts and a t-shirt that was from your last trip to the west coast. Sun, fun, and Sand.
She waited by the edge of the front yard, lifting a perfectly sculpted brow at the shirt, but didn’t say anything in acknowledgment. “We’ll do six miles up, and six miles back.”
“Up?” You squeaked out, finally earning a genuine grin from her. She started to jog ahead of you, and it took you a few moments to register that you were meant to follow her. “Back?”
The two of you kept a steady pace under the heavy hand of the sun. You felt sweat slick the back of your neck, legs screaming out in protest. You weren’t much of a runner, and had admittedly eaten one too many boxes of instant mac and cheese. But your body seemed to mold to the pace with no problem. Your muscles strained for just a moment before relaxing into he burn.
“I’m sure you’ve heard from everyone in the house how they handle a full moon.”
“No, actually,” You panted out, “everyone seems to be keeping their distance.”
“We haven’t had anyone new join our pack for years. Certainly, never this violently. Can you blame them?”
No, you really couldn’t’. They had all been so welcoming and understanding. Even Kate to a certain degree. None of that eased the fear and you figured it wouldn’t’ until you actually lived it, until every single bone in your body rebroke and reshaped until you were this insatiable creature that would seek nothing but blood and carnage. It was inside of you now, you felt it just below the surface, and that terrified you.
Your chest was beginning to burn viciously, but Natasha was showing no intention of slowing down. There was an odd need within you to please her, to make sure that you kept up with her pace despite how hard it was getting as the slight incline became a little less slight.
The woods had thickened around you both and you let out a relieved breath when she trotted to a stop on the dirt trail. The collar of your shirt was damp, and you pulled your arms behind your head to fill your lungs with more sticky air. Natasha smiled fondly at you.
“Kate tapped out about three miles back.”
“This some sort of test?” You asked, working your hand through your hair.
“A test, a tactic. Whatever you want to call it. Some of us believe that if you wear yourself out before a transition, it’ll be less excruciating on the day.”
“I read about that the other day, though, they didn’t use the word excruciating.”
“That’s what it is. Don’t let anyone sugar coat it for you, kid. It’s going to hurt and you’re going to feel every second of it.”
You plopped down on a fallen log, pressing your fingertips to your temples. You clenched your eyes shut and felt your heartbeat pulse through your entire body. Never in a million years would you figure you’d be here. Natasha’s scent strengthened when she gave your shoulder a squeeze, prompting your eyes to open.
She was rimmed in the early morning sun, ringlets of russet hair fell over her shoulders. “Come on, I didn’t make you run all the way out here for the hell of it. I want to show you something.”
Before you could object, she started down the path again, this time in a brisk walk. You let out a groan and hauled yourself off the log. When you got to where she had been, you saw nothing but a thick wall of greenery and wood. Natasha was nowhere in sight.
You closed your eyes and tried to pick up the scent of her, the detergent and the lavender and the sandalwood. Upon your second inhale, you picked up in a general direction and frowned. This was all too surreal, you were physically sniffing out a near-stranger that had led you deep into the woods.
Still, you felt a blind trust as you went off the path and continued to track her down. She was about thirty feet into the woods, standing over a pile of leaves, arms crossed over her chest. You felt yourself warm at the proud half-smile she gave you.
When you reached her, Natasha knelt and pushed back the mix of muck and leaves. It revealed two metal doors that reminded you of a summer you spent with your aunt in Alabama. It was unbelievably hot and muggy, and they had a storm shelter that was carved from the earth, the walls damp and stocked with different canned food, though you had never seen a can opener. You didn’t think to bring it up as the two of you huddled close and listened to the howling wind and rain.
“This was a long-game murder plot all along, wasn’t it?”
“I’m not into the long-game.”
Her words weren’t exactly encouraging. The hinges of the doors screamed loudly from disuse and a musty scent washed cruelly over the both of you. Your nose scrunched and Natasha grimaced but didn’t say a word. An automatic light buzzed on, allowing you to see the opened space below.
It was exactly like the storm cellar, and it’s cool interior was a brief solace from the heat of the day. There was a divide a few steps into the space, a steel wall with a door in the center, sloppily welded but with enough strength to stop a beast the size of a mid-sized Sudan.
This door creaked too, and Natasha let it linger open for a moment, staring softly at you, and then back at the room. There was safety in her stance. You knew that she had the full ability to slam it shut and lock you in, but had a deep realization that she wouldn’t.
Another light was on the ceiling, casting a circle of deep yellow. There was a deep smell of dust and dirt, but there was something hard and metallic under that. Your eyes darted to the chains that were attached to the wall, large iron things that were screwed into extra support.
More than that, were the stretching claw marks that pockmarked the walls. They went deep, past the dirt and into the cement. The pads of your fingers ran over the one closest to you. Each mark stretched further than your touch. Chills shot up to your elbow, a breath lodging itself into your throat.
Your other hand clenched your stomach, digging into your ribs. Something significant had happened here. Several significant things. Tears started to form against your eyes and the worst part was, you had no idea why.
“Those are Steves,” she said quietly, joining you within the confines of the cell, lifting her chin to another set of marks. “And Tonys.”
There were dozens of markings, all different shapes and sizes. Some were digging into the clay walls, and the floors. There were distinct scent markings on each one and you found yourself able to identify ones that belonged to Yelena, and Peter, and even Bruce. They’d all changed here at least once.
Natasha crossed the room and shifted the door until it was only slightly ajar. You straightened up, heart pulling against your throat. The door was minced with deep slashes. You shoved your hands into your pockets to keep them from trembling. They almost ached.
“You feel something, don’t you?”
Words didn’t form, couldn’t. You couldn’t pinpoint the emotion that tore through you. It was akin to longing, but it was more than that. It was like the creature that was so restless within you wanted nothing more than to claw its way out and find the person who had made those marks. They were desperate and sad, and horrifying.
You closed the distance between them and pressed your touch against the deep gashes and fought back a pained cry. You dug your teeth into the back of your free hand to quell it, but a pathetic sound still escaped you.  
“Kate knew that something was wrong a few months before she escaped. She was experienced, knew as much as one could know about their wolf. But there was an unrest”
“She doesn’t like places like this.”
Your words were small. You remembered what she had told you, about how she had turned the first time alone and, in a room very similar to this one. You got the stark impression that she would never want to do something like that again. So, it begs the question of why these marks were so fresh. So fearful.
“No, she doesn’t. They scare her, make her panic before the moon has any effect. But she was conscious enough to know that if she wasn’t here, then she would end up hurting someone. It just proved not to be strong enough of a failsafe.”
Kate had felt an unrest weeks, maybe months, before she had escaped and sunk her teeth into your flesh. A wash of guilt pulled at you. You’d been giving her such a hard time, pestering her and fighting her every step of the way. She’d been in immense pain.
When the pads of your fingers touched the scratches, you felt only a fraction of the longing she must have. Grimacing, you turned away, crossing your arms over your stomach to shield you from the reality of your harshness.
You needed Kate.
“Is this where I’ll be tonight?” You asked, so softly Natasha almost didn’t’ hear it.
She nodded in response, the silence mulling between you both. A small breath escaped you, pained and held within your lungs for an abnormal amount of time. You crossed the room, picked up one of the leaden chains and weighed it against your own strength.
“I can be here with you, if you’d like.” Natasha said, filling the quiet “Or if you’d rather Steve… Wanda.”
You turned to face her, grip tightening on the chain. “Kate?”
“Kate.”
Her eyes were no longer shrouded in their silver, sullen beauty. As the sun began its descent, there was a strange tangerine glow that overtook them. It started at the center of her pupil, small whisps of neon color, and then started to ebb into the confines of her iris.  
You focused on them. If you thought too much about the days leading up to this transformation, then you would work yourself into a panic. You were taking things one at a time today, and that included jogging back to the compound and shyly admitting to Kate that she was the only one you wished to have in your vicinity tonight.
Though, you hadn’t thought much about the logistics. The two of you trapped in a single cell. Yelena had walked all the way out here, keeping a silent eye on the tension that lingered against both of your frames. It wore your stance down, mind racing with the ‘what if’s’.
“Once I close this door, neither of you will be released until daybreak.” Her thick accent carried a sharp edge to it that made this finite. “There is an emergency radio, Kate knows where it is.”
They’d thought of everything, really. Yelena had handed over a sheathe of needles and a small vile that you knew had to be tranquilizer. It smelled acidic and nitrate in nature. Even your rational, human side, cringed away from it.
With a final nod that conveyed good luck, and a strong, ‘I’m rooting for you,’ Yelena exited the cell and slammed the metal door behind her. From there, she retreated, and another lock was put into place after she’d slithered a coil of chain around the outside doors. Your heart picked-up it’s pace, never one for confined spaces.
Kate seemed to hear the uptake and closed the distance between the both of you. One hand found your waist and you allowed her to give it a reassuring squeeze. The other cupped your cheek, guiding your stare. “Hey, listen to me. I know this is scary, but I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
You believed her partially because you had no other choice. Her eyes were mostly orange now, glowing enough to cast a strange shadow against her face. You wondered dumbly if yours would do the same. Something was boiling inside of you, making your entire body sweat. It felt like you were in a sauna, breathing in the hot steam after water was poured listlessly over black coals.
“I’ll talk you through everything, until neither of us can talk. Then we won’t have to.”
“Okay, alright. That sounds good.”
She nodded at you and began to unzip her sweatshirt until the teeth of the zipper released their hold. She was wearing a black sports bra and matching bike shorts, stretchy material that hadn’t set her back too much financially. They would be torn to shreds by the end of the night, regardless.
Kate’s stomach was toned. It was tanned and showed all the stamina of a beast. You tried not to let your eyes linger for too long, tried to ignore the small trail of hair that dipped below her waistband. Despite herself, Kate smiled at you cockily, but moved her hands to your own jacket.
“Is this okay?”
“Yeah.” You swallowed the dry metal taste in your mouth. “I don’t think my fingers will cooperate right now.”
 She let out a small noise in response and pulled your jacket from your shoulders, leaving you in much of the same. She’d promised earlier that the two of you would go out and get clothes that you were more comfortable in, but this suited you just fine. Her pupils dilated, rushing them in more sherbet color. A stuttered breath escaping her and fanning against your bare collarbone.
“What? Oh my god, is it starting?”
You didn’t feel any different, still extremely hot to the touch and a little riled up after getting a look at Kate’s mostly-bare form. Color petaled her cheeks. She was actually blushing. Even in the dim lighting of the cell, that much was clear.
“No, no. You’re just…” She shook her head, trying to clear it “really beautiful, is all.”
“Oh,”
More blush, her eyes slipping down to the floor. “Yeah. I should probably get you secured, though. It’ll be more comfortable to sit.”
You understood exactly what she meant. Your heart was thrumming through your entire body at the compliment, though you both welcomed the distraction of a task. This task was securing locks around your wrists, and your ankles. Large iron things that could stop a lion. They were bolted into cement, digging into the foundation.
You kept your back against the damp wall, allowing Kate to fiddle with the mass of restraints. She fastened the first cuff on your wrist and looked at you expectantly. “Is this too tight? We want it to be a little loose. You’ll fill out when the transformation is done.”
“It’s alright,”
Kate diligently fastened the other three; one more around your opposite wrist, and two around your ankles. The only thing left was a chain that was intended to click smugly around your throat. She stared at it warily, eyes meeting yours.
“This one isn’t comfortable, and after tonight, you won’t need it.” She stated, using her hand to brush a stray hair from your eyes. Something was coiling in your stomach now, an unrest. A parasite that seemed to want to bubble out of your chest. “Your body will be in fight or flight mode. All of your senses will be heightened more than they are now and you’ll want to get out of these.”
“And if I do?”
“If you do, you’ll have to go through me.”
She fastened the chain around your neck, listening for the heady click. Just like the others, she adjusted and pulled on it until she was satisfied with your capture. A slight noise pushed past your lips. It felt like you had a stomachache, a cramping that would send you straight to a heating pad on any other day.
“I know, baby.” She soothed, the pet name slipping past her. She frowned, then lightened her stare. “I know it hurts. I’m right here. I’m with you.”
Her words soothed you. She backed up and sat cross-legged in front of you. There was an admiration of her control. Sweat prickled against her upper lip and at her hairline. It was an indication that you weren’t alone in this. Though, Kate Bishop had more practice, pain was eternal.
“You said I’d have to go through you,” your words were trembling. It took a few moments to force them into existence, but Kate was patient. Your legs and arms were starting to ache, just a dull thrum that reminded you of destroying your muscles to wick them back together again. “What… did you mean?”
Kate smiled and you swore her teeth were pointed at the end. Your vison was starting to blur, and you blinked away tears that dripped from your chin. “We’re not going to fight, or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. I think our wolves- well, I think they’ll get along just fine.”
“Kate Bishop, are you insinuating something?”
“Me? No. Never.”
She let out a grunt, her hand going to her ribcage. There was a dull pop that jolted through her body and you clenched your eyes shut for a moment. Not wanting to see her in pain. Not wanting to see what was next for you.
You didn’t have to wait long. The pressure started to build in your forearm first, a tight pain that shot from your fingers all the way to your elbow. Almost as if your bone was straining against itself, and it was. The crack and splinter of it threw you off your balance with a dizzying amount of discomfort.
A scream tore through your throat, toes digging into the soft, damp floor. Kate let out another grunt of discomfort, dropping her elbow to the ground. Her chest was heaving, pulling air in greedily before releasing as if she never wanted it in the first place. Her efforts were punctuated by a deep and primal growl that took you back to the night in the forest.
All of your limbs were tightening now, two pops from your ribs and an extra one in your ankle. You were doubled over in a blind torment. Your cheek was pressed to the ground, the scent of dirt filling your senses. There was blood here too, so thick and potent that it was if it gurgled against your own tongue.
“I’m sorry,” you thought you heard her through your own strangled cries of pain. Her voice deep and words miffed by the growing teeth pressing against her gums. “I’m so sorry.”
“Fuck!” You cried out, the last bit of human semblance you could form. Your own words were minced with agonizing cries and a rumble from the center of your chest that sounded anything but human. It was feral. It was hungry.
Your vison pulsed around the edges, darkness creeping in. You shakily lifted your hand, watched as your flesh became shrouded with gore. It was shredded, dark gray fur sprouting over your knuckles as your skin fell away entirely. Once human nails had been replaced by claws, dripping with your own blood and muscle tissue.
They shined as if you had been baptized once more. Teeth- your own teeth, filled your mouth as they were pushed out to welcome new ones. You’d spit them to the ground, relished in the sweet taste of the blood that filled your mouth, only for you to spit again.
There was a howl, one distant that made your entire body stiffen under its command. You weren’t wailing anymore, and neither was Kate. The two of you had silenced, breathed hard and tried to find your bearings. Your collarbone widened, seemed to stretch like the rest of you. The restraints were tightening as you grew. As you changed.
Another howl cut through the air, this time you had the urge to answer with one of your own. At least, that was the last humane thought you had, before everything went black.
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teddypines · 2 months
Text
Picture day, Cat One-shot
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Third person pov.
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It was a quiet afternoon in the compound. Cat was asleep on one of the chairs in the common room. She was just a purrfect little loaf of cat. 
As Cat was sleeping, Clint tried to sneak up to the cat. He has been trying to get a good picture of her for weeks. But every time he came close to getting one, Cat moved away. It was like Cat didn't want her picture taken.
Clint slowly walked to the chair, and the camera was ready to take the picture. He moved closer and closer to Cat. It looked like he would finally get the picture he wanted. 
"Finally a good picture of our precious fur ball," Clint thought to himself as he was ready to take that picture.
Just as Clint was pressing the button, Thor walked into the common room. Loudly announcing his presence. This scared the poor Cat, who ran away. Leaving Clint with a blurred photograph of the precious cat.
"Damn it, Thor! You ruined my picture of Cat." Clint said as he turned to him. Thor just looked at Clint and said, "Sorry.". Thor then walked to the kitchen in search of Poptarts. Clint sighed and left the common room.
On his way out, Clint started thinking of a new plan to get a picture of Cat. 
                                                      《》 
Cat was hiding in the lab. She didn't want her picture taking. The camera always scared her. She doesn't know why, but it scared her so much. Cat knows that i would make Clint happy if he got her picture. She was just too scared to let him take it.
Tony looked up from his work as he saw the cat walking in. "Hey there, Cupcake." he greeted her. Cat answered him with a sad meow and walked over to Tony. "What's wrong, Cupcake?" Tony asked. "You know she can't answer that question, right?" Bruce responded.
"Just let me talk to the cat, Bruce! I also know for a fact that you talk to her too." Tony answered back. Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes in defeat and went back to his work. 
Tony tried talking to Cat, but that obviously didn’t work, so he asked FRIDAY to get Loki or Wanda to come to the lab. After about 5 minutes, both Wanda and Loki walked in.
"What do you want, Stark?" Loki asked. "Good to see you too Reindeergames. I need one of you to translate for me." Tony said to them. He picked Cat up and placed he on the workbench. "Alright, Cupcake, why are you sad?" He questions Cat. Cat meowed in response, but before Wanda could translate. Clint ran into the lab.
"Guy's, have you seen Cat?? I have been looking for her, but I can't find her anywhere." 
"Yeah, she's right here. She was just about to tell us something." Wanda said. "Alright, go on. I'll wait." Wanda turned back to Cat, and Cat repeated what she said earlier. "Cat said that Clint wants to take a picture of her, and she wants to make Clint happy but is too scared of the camera to let him take a picture." Wanda told everyone. 
Everyone was quiet for a bit before loki said, "Wel Clint, why do you want a picture of Cat?" Loki asked. "So I can show Cat to the kids when I get home." He answered. 
"You can just bring them to the compound if you want them to see Cat."  Bruce commented from across the room. Clint looked like he wanted to say something but didn't know what to say. Everyone else just laughed at Bruce's comment. 
"We could always ask a professional to take her picture." Tony suggested. He looked at Cat to see what she thought of the idea, Cat meowed a few times and looked happy. Loki translated this time, telling everyone that Cat was willing to try it. Tony immediately booked an appointment with a professional animal photographer. 
  《 time skip. 2 days into the future 》
Today, the professional photographer came to the compound. Everything seemed to be going well until Cat came running from outside scared and trying to hide behind Bucky. 
Bucky was trying to comfort Cat when Terry, the photographer, came inside. "Is Cat here? She ran away when the automatic flash light went off." 
"It's alright doll the camera won't hurt you." Bucky tried to get Cat out of hiding. Cat looked from behind Bucky at the camera. She meowed at it and Terry. "She will only come out if the flash monster stays away." Loki told Terry.  "Oh, yeah, I can turn the automatic flash off. That should make her less afraid " 
"Wait, you can turn the flashlight off?!" Cint asked, confused. "Yeah, you didn't know that?" Terry sat even more confused. "No. No, I did not know that." Clint admitted. "So I spent a lot of money on this just to learn that you had to turn off the flashlight!" Tony said, a bit irritated. "Sorry Tony, I didn't know." 
After that, the photoshoot went really well, Terry made a lot of cute photos, and Tony, of course, purchased every single one of them. So everyone in the compound could see the cute cat. 
At the end of the day, Cat was lying on Clint's lap. She meowed at him and looked happy. She wasn't afraid anymore, and Clint finally got the picture he wanted. Both happy and tired, they fell asleep on the couch. 
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A/N: Hi, thanks for reading my story. :) This is my first story, and im kind of new to this, so feedback is welcome. Just don't be too harsh. 
If the characters are off character, i'm sorry about that. Also, English is not my first language, so mind the grammar errors. The story is on wattpad too, but not as clean.
Okay, that was it, bye.
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pandagirl45 · 3 months
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Grizzly bear rhodey, for any shifter au is either a grizzly bear or golar bear (grizzly and polar) I think their called pizzly.
Steve is a dog shifter, golden doodle or golden Shepard.
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Steve is taller (depending on the au) but rhodey shifting, just has height on the guy. Which steve melts (he gets to be smol again).
Clint defaults to a bird. Sorry clint. Sam too.
Natasha is between a reptile or a fox shifter.
Tony cat or a mix of a lynx and lion (lyonx). It's not real.
Bucky a grey wolf. Or also a bear. Maybe a polar bear.
Thor would be a mountain goat (the mythologies)
Loki a snake
Strange a mongoose ;)
Bruce would be a mix (hulk reasons) animal too. Not sure yet, maybe a primate and sloth. Energies funky.
I freaking love getting funky with it.
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broadwayfan92 · 10 months
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If the Avengers were Water, Fire, Air and Earth benders, plus a Sword Master.
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Tony introducing Peter to the Avengers
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