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everythingiwritesucksoop · 6 years

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Simplicity

Hello yes I have no idea what this is I just kinda wrote and wrote and here it is?

Please do not copy or plagiarize my work. You may repost, but with everything in tact, please!

White Wolf Bucky x Reader

Warnings: fluff? some Civil War flashbacks so yikes?

It was beautiful here. You never noticed how wonderful the buzzing of cicadas and the chirping of crickets really were until they became your natural morning alarm, and you’ve never noticed just how bright and warm the sun really was until it shone through the window of your room, waking you up gently. Wakanda was beautiful, even in its little details. You never thought life would be so aesthetically pleasing, yet here you were, now sitting outside your house on your cloth cot, swaying side to side and basking in the Wakandan beauty. The bleating of goats wake you from your daze, and you can’t help but laugh to yourself as you watch Tony, the newest of the herd, jump around and evade the arm of your love. He cursed at the goat, with an amused smile on his face, and eyebrows curved in determination. You never thought disobeying would lead to such a beautiful life, and sure, how you got here was messy and tiring, but if this was the end, it was all worth it.

You’d been passive about the Accords until Tony targeted Bucky. You knew James like the back of your hand, as you had first bonded with him over the woes of watching over Steve, and the bond gradually became deeper as you both opened up to each other about your pasts, the pain you’ve endured, and the lingering bruises on your brain in the form of PTSD. You even shared a kiss with him, hidden in the hallways of Stark’s elegant tower during New Years Eve. So when he left, he took your heart and your trust with. It was painful, telling your father-figure that you sided with his new enemy, but nevertheless, Tony knew your “teen rebellion phase” was to come. He just didn’t expect it to be this extreme.

And in your defense, you didn’t battle in the airport. You stayed in the shadows, healing what bruises and cuts and sprains you could get your hands on while your family fought. You even healed Peter after a harsh kick to the face from Steve (he later apologized about it, but you were still upset he tried to completely smash the kid’s cheekbone). It burned in your chest, the ache of seeing your family fighting with such violence, with such passionate aggression. You thought both Steve and Tony would work it out, and be civil, but alas, what was done was done.

After the mess that followed, you chose to flee to Wakanda with James in granted asylum. You paid back T’Challa and Shuri by teaching them the powers of your healing, and they in turn kept you and your favorite super soldier safe (sorry, Steve). You missed Bucky deeply when he went back into cryogenic sleep, but you knew it was for the better, and you knew it was for everyone- especially Bucky’s own -safety.

But that was over now. Bucky had healed, he’d come a tremendous way mentally, and you were so proud of him. You made sure to whisper your love to him when he held you at night, and you always praised him and his ever-improving goat herding abilities. But you knew he felt guilty, even though so much time that had ticked by. You knew his guilt seeped into his blood from his hurting heart, you knew he blamed himself for you being in Wakanda, away from your full family. To him, he had taken you from everything you had loved. But to you, not seeing your whole family was the price to pay to be with the one being you loved the most, and it was worth it. Sure, holidays were rocky at first, tears being shed at the notion of being isolated during your birthday, but it soon turned into a relationship-strengthening time. Even though Bucky still felt guilty, you kept reminding him that you chose to come to Wakanda with him, and you never regretted it.

Like now. He watches you carefully, his eyes in sorrowful apology, and in response, you simply shake your head and give him a knowing glance. As you head over to him, the ankle-high yellowing grass swishing at your skin, you realize that he can’t dwell on this forever, and until he learns that, until he grows strong enough to push through this red brick wall, you’ll be there to help him chip and scrape at the mortar. Once you reach him, you rub his shoulders and rise to your toes, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. He smiles softly, and turns to you, only to have his attention thrown back to a jealous goat bleating in protest. “Sorry doll, looks like Tony wants me all to himself” he jokes, giving the bleating baby a pat on the head. You simply roll your eyes and playfully stick your tongue out at the now smug goat, basking in the glory of Bucky’s attention. “All right babe. When you want undivided attention from your favorite baby, come in the house” you tease, heading for your home.

You’re barely through the door when you feel his arm around you, and even though it’s such a simple gesture, you can’t help but take it all in.

You have such a beautiful life.

#marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfiction #bucky #Bucky Barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fandom #white wolf #wakanda #fluff #bucky barns fanfiction #simple #love #bucky love

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everythingiwritesucksoop · 6 years

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Illusion or Delusion, second to last part

I’m sorry for the extreme delay with this. In all honesty, I’m swamped with college essays and midterms already. I’m going to try and crank this last series out, and then revert to one shots and little drabbles in between school work!

Please do not copy or plagiarize my work. You may repost!!!! But with everything in tact, please!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Viewer’s POV

Tony had enough. “Loki, for god’s sake, would you please stop messing with my photos?” He seethes, gritting his teeth at his least favorite god. “Oh, believe me Stark, this isn’t my doing.” Loki says with an amused grin on his face. “I’ve always been one for more… entertaining tricks.” He continues, casting an illusion of himself. The illusion goes and resets the photos to how they used to be, only for them to scatter off the table- for the fourth time in less than half an hour. “Honestly Loki, enough of your tricks.” Thor booms, crossing his arms in annoyance. As Thor crosses his arms, a nearby vase hurtles towards Tony, stopping right in front of his head. The vase lingers in the air, and then nestles in his lap. “I swear, it really isn’t me!” Loki protests, now slightly ticked at the Avengers ganging up on him; again. “I swear to you, it isn’t me. Promise.” And with that, Tony sets the vase down on the table, and the festivities of Tony’s birthday officially- yet begrudgingly- begin.

Tony’s POV

Presents have been wrapped, the song has been sung, and I’m about to blow out the candles on my cake. I roll my eyes as everyone watches me- again, with wide eyes and hopeful smiles -and wish for yet again, the ability to say goodbye to ____. I close my eyes and let the candles die, their light flickering, like my hope to see her, and I hear my friends family clap.

But the clapping is halted. It dies as I hear Wanda gasp, and my eyes open in confused anxiety. “What’s wrong?” I wonder frantically, and as my eyes register the person standing at the end of the table, my heart stops.

She’s here.

But there’s no way she’s actually here. “She’s dead!” My mind screams at me, trying to figure out how she’s standing in front of me, with that simple, understanding smile graced upon her face. My mind turns to acidic wrath as I come up with the best possible conclusion. Loki. “I. am. Going. To. KILL. YOU.” I seethe, standing abruptly from my chair. ___ falters, stepping back, and then puts two and two together, and launches herself through the table to meet me up close and personal. “Don’t.” She commands, blocking my arm from hitting her breathing bastard of a husband. “I’m here.” She says, lowering my hand with hers. My face contorts into an expression of confusion, frustration, and guilt mindlessly. “Tony, I’m back for a little.” She explains, backing up from me smoothly. “I’ve come down here to settle what needs to be finished, and I’ve come to finally put myself to rest.” She turns to face the rest of the group, who are in all sorts of shocked. Wanda’s eyes are about to pop out of her skull, Nat has a skeptical frown on her face, Rhodey and Sam are looking back and forth from her to each other, and Steve is currently hiding behind Bucky’s bionic arm. Only Bruce, Loki, and Thor seem more curious than shocked about the spirit in the room, while Vision mindlessly cuts the cake, seemingly uncaring about the whole scenario. “______, how are you… here?” Bruce asks, tentatively. “I wish I could tell you, Bruce. But I’m really quite unsure myself” ___ responds, floating around to fully face him. My eyes blink, but never move from her floating face, glued to her head as she converses with Banner as if she’d come home from a trip early, not come back from the dead.

“I think we should celebrate!” Thor’s voice reverberates, and everyone flinches slightly at the loud noise, only to really jump back into reality. “Yeah, I guess we should.” I say gently, smiling at _____. It may have taken a while, but I guess birthday wishes really do come true.

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everythingiwritesucksoop · 6 years

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important ship tropes:

fake dating

SECRET dating

being locked in a room or trapped in a small space

huDDLING FOR WARMTH

BEING ON THE BRINK OF ADMITTING THEIR FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER BUT THEN GETTING INTERRUPTED

finishing each other’s sentences, KNOWING WHAT THE OTHER IS ABOUT TO SAY

tou chi NG!!!! FOr eheA DS!!!!!!11!!

wearing each other’s clothes

doing that thing where they accidentally get real close and, like, stare meaningfully at each other for a few seconds too long

channeling the inner romcom and having an epiphany about how much they care about each other and RACING TO CONFESS THEIR LOVE

fucking. Now or Never Kiss

HEIGHT DIFFERENCES

defending each other to scathing tertiary or otherwise minor characters but ONLY WHEN THE OTHER ISN’T AROUND

reincarnation or time loop or OOOOH TIME TRAVEL SCENARIOS

dramatically saving each other from certain death or barely surviving something that almost makes the other break down and just smirking wearily and mumbling flippant smartass remarks to HIDE THE DEPTH OF THEIR FEELINGS

undercover as lovers, the classic

ALMOST KISSING. like getting so close that they start to close their eyes and hold their breath and then SOMETHING HAPPENS and they jump apart, that is MORE VALUABLE THAN ANY ACTUAL KISSING

casually sitting on each other’s laps during ensemble cast conversations or scenes

did i mention F AKE DATinG

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everythingiwritesucksoop · 6 years

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Hello yes

College is drowning me but I’m revising some works so hopefully they’re up soon! Sorry I’m always so inactive smh

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everythingiwritesucksoop · 6 years

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The Jewel of June

Hello All!

I’m sorry for being so busy. I’ve finally finished this piece I thought of when listening to the Jewel of June by the Milk Carton Kids. Hopefully you all enjoy, as this was a rather experimental piece!

No warnings? Fluff for sure, mild angst but nothing harsh.

Bucky x Fem!Reader

January

She was so beautiful. He didn’t know how, but no matter the situation, she flowed with grace, glowed with positive energy, and sparked warmth into everyone that laid eyes on her. Like now, even though they were in the midst of a mission gone wrong, she pierced enemies throats with an unknown poise, and danced her way through the enemy soldiers, Hydra agents falling to her feet as his heart fell for her.

February

It was hard not to look at her. Even while in the compound, wrapped in her own thoughts, she radiated calm perfection. Though it was a cold February, her heart kept her warm, giving her the wonderful ability to spoon soft ice cream while in fluffy pajamas. He watched her sigh in content as the chilly treat past her soft lips, god those lips, and he saw her body visibly relax against the kitchen counters. Even in the freezing February weather, she could make his soul melt.

March

Colorful buds started to bloom, peeking out of the frost, and as they started to bloom, so did her smiles. Now they were more frequent, and she often smiled at the baby blooms, whispering encouraging words to them, as if they’d grow faster. As if they could listen. Though Bucky couldn’t always listen, he wished he could. Though her whispers of support and kindness weren’t directed to him, whatever he did hear, he would take to heart. Words of encouragement like “Oh, little love, I know you can do it” would ring in his ears on various missions, and “there’s no need to rush, finish your work at your own pace” could be heard echoing in his mind during training. But the one he always heard, even while simply laying in bed, was the one he wanted her to say to him directly. “I’m so proud of you, of your growth.

I love you.”

April

The rain was deafening today. The storm was still brewing, with thunder calling from far away, rumbling softly in the distance. And even through the wet weather, she stayed dry with her sunny disposition. He watched from above, his room’s window giving him the best view he could ask for; her dancing in the rain. She wore an oversized rain jacket, and lounge pants she had received from Sam for Christmas, and was currently splashing with Peter in the rain. With her colorful rain boots contrasting with the gray backyard porch, and with Peter dancing around goofily, a smile plastered on his face, Bucky could only look down at the sight and smile softly in content.

May

It was now or never. Here she was, staring up into his eyes- his eyes that had seen murder, death, and war -and yet here she was, waiting with bated breath. She’d been hurt on a mission, nothing too terrible, just a fractured wrist, but yet Bucky couldn’t help but worry, and fuss over her while she healed. He helped cut her food, brush her hair, and type up long reports. She must have caught on to his nursing behavior, because here she was, her ethereal body waiting in patience, after asking a simple yet demanding question: “What’s going on with you?” With a sigh of defeat, and brave face shown, Bucky simply bows his head in slight shame and mutters “I like you, okay?”

He wasn’t expecting her to smile.

He wasn’t expecting her to kiss him softly.

But who was he to expect something from an angel?

June

Here she lay, under the bright sun. Her hair splayed out like a halo around her head, her summer dress fanned out on the greening grass, Bucky is reduced to merely smiling once more. His back is against a tree, his hand, his real hand interlaced with one of hers. Though this must not be enough, for soon she’s pushing off the ground, and settles into a new position: sitting in his lap. She tentatively grabs both his hands and wraps his arms around herself, pressing her back into his chest. Bucky freezes at first, not wanting to hurt her with his metal arm, the one he hates, the one that brings destruction, yet is relieved when she kisses it lightly, and he takes the opportunity to put his head on her shoulder, to kiss her cheek in innocent adoration. “You are the Jewel of June” he mumbles into her ear, inhaling her coconut scented hair, and her sunscreen kissed skin. “And you, the heliodor of my heart.” She sighs back, a look of love plastered on her face.

July

It is unbearably hot. The compound has the A/C on blast, yet Bucky feels his hair sticking to his neck, the sweltering heat becoming rudely relentless. He tries to cool down by spreading out in the bed, with no luck. But then she comes in, floating into his- no, their -room with a small laundry basket, and suddenly, it feels like he can breathe with ease again. “Though I love calling you honey, you don’t need to be as sticky as it.” She says with a playful smile, her laugh reverberating in the room. He can only smirk in reply, and watches as she starts to fold their laundry. “Barnes, are you going to help me fold, or are you going to keep drooling?” She teases, her eyes meeting his. “I’ll do both, doll” he remarks as he gets up to help.

August

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He just wanted her to be safe. But she took it the wrong way. He said it the wrong way. He knew the second he said it, the second the “stay here” passed his lips, he’d messed up. Instantly her eyes shone with hurt, the sting of betrayal evident on her face. “I am not made of glass, James.” She seethed quietly, while calm and fiery red waves of anger rolled from her aura, her face set in hardening pain. She shoved him off with a grimace, and stalked off to the jet. The mission was noisy, but it was nothing compared to her deafening silence for Bucky. As they fought, she controlled her rage into killing enemies recklessly, throwing herself into the crossfire. His heart sank as he watched her from his peripherals, and anxious acid burned in his stomach.

How could he ever recover from this?

September

The chill of autumn started to waft into the weather, coaxing Bucky to linger outside, instead of staying behind glass windows. They had made up recently, too tired to keep fighting, and to exhausted in their equal endeavors to avoid the elephant in the room. It had taken a lot of patience from both of them, as they laid out their feelings like dealt cards on a table. Bucky learned that he can be overbearing, and she learned that he only did it out of love. Through compromise and communication, they healed and now sat, side by side on the top of Stark’s Tower, peering down to the bustling night traffic of the City that Never Sleeps. The cool autumn breeze now blows gently through her hair, and Bucky notices not only that she’s changed her shampoo scent from coconut to apple, but that her chapstick as changed as well, from cherry to caramel creme.

October

She was always beautiful to him, and he never knew just how beautiful she could get. It seemed like every day, her skin grew more radiant, and her eyes shone even more. But now, right now, Bucky cannot breathe.

She’s usually his breath of fresh air in a room, his saving grace and his life, but now she stands before him, and he finds that her beauty is breathtakingly deadly. She’s clad in a floor-length, wine colored gown, with a plunging neckline that just barely lets her cleavage peek out from the luscious fabric. The bodice and gown is rather plain, with small crystals adorning the bottom trim, and- as Bucky now sees as she turns -the back detailing. He tries to collect his breathing and stay calm, but how can he? Here she was, his girl, his angel on Earth, with a look that would put Aphrodite herself to shame, and he’s supposed to stay calm and collected? There was no way. He watched her and Natasha laugh, and descend the stairs to the Halloween party. He knows it’s her, though she has a silver mask delicately balanced on her face, and he can only wait at the bottom of the stairs for her to descend to him. He knows her by her body, by her hair, her smile, hell, he knows her solely by her aura, and as he stands at the bottom of the stairs, watching her descend as if from Heaven to him, Bucky realizes that he will never get used to her beauty.

November

The November Rain was cold and fresh on their faces. They laid on the now wet blanket, a simple picnic in disarray due to the coming winter storm. The rain pelts the area around them, yet Bucky doesn’t feel the chilling sting of the icy drops. Instead, he feels his girl and her warmth seep into his skin, and into his bones. “Baby, we’re going to get sick, you know.” She hums against his chest, cuddling into him for warmth. “Mmm, but then you know, we get sick days together.” Bucky remarks, chuckling at the thought. His mind wanders to the idea of them both sniffling, under cotton covers, with a fleece blanket on top. No doubt she’ll be snuggled into him, and he, propped up to breathe, will support her and kiss her hairline as she dozes off. Even being sick sounds like heaven with her, Bucky realizes, and it is in this moment, in the freezing and cold November rain, with now frost-tipped grass, that he realizes

She’s the one.

December

Christmas lights twinkle and glint in every room. Tony always likes to decorate with elaborate detail, and Peter and Sam always bicker over who gets to do what. This year, lights are strung by strong spiderwebs, while ornaments and tinsel of red and silver adorn the gigantic pine tree. Tony and Steve had picked out the tree this year, and found it to be a tight squeeze into the huge compound, the tip of the tree just barely scratching the ceiling surface. And yet, even through all the chaos, the mess of dry and fallen pine needles, the glittering shards of dropped ornaments (which was all Peter’s fault, according to Sam), and the new hot cocoa stains bleeding into Stark’s favorite couch, Bucky can only seem to focus on her. She laughs more during this time of year, he notices, and she seems to emit an even happier and joyful energy, which he didn’t think was possible. As everyone sits around the tree and the roaring fireplace Tony installed, Bucky only has eyes for his girl. Even when Natasha laughs at the joke gift Clint got her, and even when Wanda uses her magic to hit him lightly on the head to get his attention, he always ends up looking at her. “James”, she whispers, handing him a small box wrapped in silver paper with a light creme bow, “This one’s for you. I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I saw it and thought of you.” She says with a hopeful smile. Bucky stares at the small box, and tentatively peels off the shiny paper. Inside the box, under a small sheet of white gift paper, lies a star. A gold star, to be exact, and the weight of the metal is heavy even when held in his metal arm. “I know the red paint of your star may be gone from your arm, but, you’re a part of us now.” She says softly, as Bucky merely eyes the glinting decoration. “This way you can still represent us, and Steve especially, without completely re-forging your arm.” Bucky looks to her, with a grateful smile on his face. Never in his life did he think he would be so grateful, for now, as everyone nods in agreement, he knows he has a new family, and now he knows he is home.

“Bucky, honestly, you didn’t need to get me anything else!” She scolds lightly, slapping his arm in mock anger. “I know Doll, I heard you loud and clear.” He rumbles, kissing her forehead lightly. “But I saw this and thought of you.” He says with a knowing smirk, echoing your previous words. By now, the fire had dimmed down to burning embers, and everyone was either asleep, or in the dining room, discussing to Peter all the new rules for his brand new spider suit. (A gift from Tony, of course). But here Bucky has pulled his angel away from the crowd, asking for a quick kiss and a quick word. “Oh James, I should’ve known you were going to use my words against me someday.” She mutters, while shaking her head with a soft laugh. “It won’t be the last time, you know.” Bucky warns her, and she looks up to him, a smile of understanding thrown to him in response. He holds her hand, and feels his heartbeat pick up speed. “Just do it, you know she’s the one.” He thinks to himself with hope. With another brave face, and a breath held in anticipation, James Buchanan Barnes gets down on one knee.

He wasn’t expecting you to cry.

He wasn’t expecting you to kiss him before breathing out “yes”.

But yet again,

Who was he to expect anything from his Angel?

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everythingiwritesucksoop · 6 years

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Hello all!

I have just started my first year at college and I’m super busy with Welcome Week, but I think I may be able to post something Monday 😉

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everythingiwritesucksoop · 6 years

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Hold the Hammer

So we’re going to pretend the whole Hela destroying Thor’s hammer didn’t happen ok just roll with me here.

This is the most over used, basic fic about Thor, so naturally, I decided to do my own take on it.

Please do not plagiarize my work! You may repost of course, but with everything in tact, please!

Thor x Fem!Reader

This fic is purely platonic smh

You knew the lore of Mjölnir, and you knew Thor’s exceptional pride of being the only entity to hold it with ease. Especially now that Hela was gone, he proudly waltzed around the compound, swinging his hammer around in a boastful yet playful manner.

So when everyone in the compound was sitting in the living room, bonding over funny stories of missions taking odd or wrong turns, you noticed that Thor had so kindly placed his heavy hammer on your essay, which in your defense, had been put down since you were working on it constantly. “Thor,” you sighed, shaking your head in mock annoyance, “could you please move your hammer off my papers? I need to finish my essay tonight.” With a boisterous and hearty laugh, Thor clapped his hands and shouted, “How about a challenge for everyone?” With everyone rolling their eyes or chuckling, all the Avengers agreed to his challenge, with some of them (like Steve and Tony), glad to have a second chance at the possibility of lifting the charmed tool.

Tony went first. He pulled and pushed and used his suit’s hand -which was totally cheating- but still, Mjölnir would not budge. Steve, Clint, Wanda, Natasha, all tried moving the hammer, but it didn’t do so much as scoot. With a huge smile plastered on his face, Thor sits back on the couch. “Okay ___, your turn.” Clint sighs, taking a sip of his drink. You cheeks feel warm, and you shake your head. “No, no no, I’m okay with not knowing if I’m “worthy” or not” you say with a laugh, getting ready to stand up. “Oh come on, ___, everyone has to try, it’s a tradition!” Tony coaxes, gesturing to Mjölnir. Everyone starts egging you on, and, knowing you’ll never hear the end of it, you roll your eyes and grab the handle.

It’s lighter than you expected. You didn’t even try! Thinking you wouldn’t be able to move it, you had jokingly tugged the handle, but up went the hammer. It doesn’t even register to you at first, as you had closed your eyes as you laughed. But when you open your eyes and see the legendary hammer in your hand, lifted with no effort at all, your laugh gets caught in your throat, and you find yourself staring at your hand in awe.

It’s like you can hear a pin drop. Everyone is staring at you, jaws all open. Your frozen frame is jolted back to life at the sound of breaking glass, and your eyes snap to the floor, where Clint’s glass now rests, in many jagged shards. “Holy….. shit!” Tony yells, standing up abruptly. You look to Natasha in shock, and she merely stares back at you, her face contorted in confusion. Thor however, is pale, his body tensed. He stands up abruptly, and reaches for his hammer. With a flushed face, you hand him it, and back away from him slowly. “I’m…. sorry?” You squeak, going to sit back down on your chair. “I can’t believe it,” Thor breathes, staring at you with wide eyes. “You. Are. WORTHY!” He cries in glee, now coming over to you. He picks you up and spins you, and with another laugh, he turns to the rest of the crew, yelling, “You all, finish her papers! I must teach ___ the proper ways to use Mjölnir!”

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everythingiwritesucksoop · 6 years

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Hello all!

I am back (from the dead) and will be pumping out writings in a few days!!! Buck(y)le up!

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everythingiwritesucksoop · 6 years

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site that you can type in the definition of a word and get the word

site for when you can only remember part of a word/its definition

site that gives you words that rhyme with a word

site that gives you synonyms and antonyms

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everythingiwritesucksoop · 6 years

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Hello all

This Wednesday I am headed for Europe for three weeks! I do not know if I will have WiFi where I will be, so I may be silent for a while! I’m sorry for the inconvenience!!!!!! But I promise I will post lots when I return!

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everythingiwritesucksoop · 6 years

Link

Writer Beware makes posts on which publishing houses to avoid at all costs, which words to look for and which words to watch out for in contracts, and several other things that will keep you in control and knowledgeable about the publishing process. I’d suggest reading through the website if you want to avoid getting ripped off, cheated, or scammed.

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everythingiwritesucksoop · 6 years

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Woven Magic Final Part: Tied Ends - Written by SB

Hello all! Since I never intended for this to become a series, I decided to end it now instead of letting it run on aimlessly! I hope it’s a fair ending for my first series!

Please do not plagiarize my work! You may repost, but with everything in tact, please!

Read Part 1 here Part 2 Part 3

One thing people don’t talk about is the aftermath of being rescued. Once home, safe and sound, you were promptly scanned and checked over, questioned -for way too long, in your opinion- and then, with very little of your own input, you were locked in Stark Tower, a fellow Avenger to be at your side 24/7. You understood the precautions and “helicopter parenting”, but it still flitted on your nerves, causing you unrest and mild agitation towards your fellow teammates. As a safety precaution, you were to stay in the Tower for the next three weeks, so the offending Hydra agents couldn’t snatch you and erase your memories, or access your memories of current S.H.I.E.L.D. projects. But none of these things bothered you as much as Tony’s last “little precaution”; you weren’t allowed to weave anything.

At first you didn’t understand, as it was just... weaving? But after Tony explained how Hydra had a habit of tracking unusual or unEarthly powers and phenomena, and how your incantations would easily expose you, you sighed and reluctantly turned in all your threads, your loom, scissors, and your book.

So now you walk around the compound, aimlessly and mindlessly, trying to busy yourself with steps and the same sights from the glass windows. Wanda walked beside you, occasionally trying to create small talk. But as much as she tried, you just didn’t feel like talking. In fact, you didn’t feel like walking. All you wanted to do was weave. You missed the feeling of your magic humming through your fingers, vibrating within the fibers of your threads, and you so desperately wanted to make yourself a new bracelet. But you complied to Tony’s excessive badgering, and now you would simply have to wait.

“____, I think you should sit down. You’ve been walking around for the past three hours.” Wanda suggests, lightly gesturing to a couch. “I know Wanda, but I would rather not. You, however, are free to sit whenever you feel like it.” You reply, keeping your gaze towards the windows. “____, you know I cannot do that, even if I wanted to.” Wanda sighs with a soft laugh, following you to the windows. “You have so many thoughts on your mind,” she mutters, and you finally turn your head to her. “Could you help me silence some of them?” You ask quietly, hoping she got the hint. “As much as I’d like to, I cannot get your weaving supplies. But I think I could help take care of some of your more… underlying thoughts.” She says, kindness and knowing flickering through your eyes.

You creep through the hallways with her, more silent than a mouse. You weren’t supposed to be on this side of the Tower, these hallways had been closed off to you so Stark could keep an eye on you with little camera-effort. But now was not the time to worry about Tony freaking out about not seeing you on a screen, as you kept stalking through the forbidden halls, wondering where Wanda was taking you.

She gestures for you to stop at a random door. You shoot her a puzzled look, and with a sarcastic roll of her eyes, she uses her magic to unlock the door, opens it, and quickly shoves you inside.

You look around, the darkness making it had for you to see anything, and as you wait for your eyes to adjust, you hear an oh-so-familiar voice call out, “who’s there?” Your heart swells and a smile sweeps across your face. “Relax, Loki, it’s your favorite crafter.” You whisper, walking to where you heard his voice. You stumble lightly in the dark, and suddenly, the room is flooded with light as a chuckling Loki flicks a lightswitch on. “Tsk, tsk, imagine the disappointment you’re causing our dear Anthony Stark.” He says with a knowing grin, and you can’t help but wink at him. “We can worry about Stark later. Plus, Wanda brought me here, so I’m sure she’ll bide us some time.” You say as you come closer to him. He reaches for your wrist, and lightly tugs you to him. “Thank you,” you whisper softly, “for saving me and for working with Tony. I know he isn’t your favorite.” You close your eyes in appreciation as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping in a safe and warm embrace. “Of course, Darling,” he murmurs, placing a light kiss on your forehead, “anything for the one who’s tied my heart to theirs.”

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