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#kristen2020
shaynawrites23 · 4 years
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Always
Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x reader
Word count: 891
Prompt: “I’m not leaving you. You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise.”
Written for @peterman-spideyparker’s writing challenge, thanks for letting me join so late!
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A shuddering breath escaped you as you attempted to calm your nerves. It didn't help, though, as you felt just as anxious as you had for the past two hours.
The royal maids fussed over you, checking every single little detail to make sure your appearance was immaculate. They had been in your room for an hour and you just found out how it took nobles so long to get dressed as it was now happening to you.
You heard the door click open as lithe footsteps reached your ears. You turned as far as you could with one maid touching up your headdress and another tightening the sash of your dress. Catching a glimpse of your princely lover, a wide smile spread over your face.
Loki shooed the maids out of the room, closing the door behind you and taking you into his arms.
"How are you doing, love?" he whispered, thumb rubbing comforting circles on your arm.
"Nervous," you admitted. "Really, really nervous."
"Dear heart, I don't care whether or not they like you. You are my choice, now and always."
His lips pressed a soft kiss to your hairline. You breathed in his scent, once, twice, before pulling away to look at him.
"Okay," you sighed. "Okay."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The guards' stentorian voices announced your arrival in unison, and you grasped Loki's hand tightly in your own as you strode into the large, ornately decorated room.
"Welcome, Lady (Y/N). It's so wonderful to meet you. Loki has told me much about you." Frigga approached you as you curtsied, a warm smile gracing her features.
"Thank you, your Majesty. I've heard many things about you as well, and the pleasure is all mine."
"Please, Frigga is fine." She gestured to the table where Loki and an older man you assumed to be Odin were seated. Your prince rose to pull out a chair for you and you shot him a grateful grin.
Conversation with Frigga flowed smoothly, but you were under the impression Odin was glaring at you whenever you weren't looking.
"And do you ever think about a future with my son?" Frigga inquired. You opened your mouth to respond when Odin finally spoke.
"A future? (Y/N) is Midgardian, she will die long before he does. Prince Loki should think twice before choosing a bride on a whim."
Your mouth almost dropped open in shock as you glanced at Loki. Frigga seemed equally stunned, glaring at her husband.
"Odin!"
"No!" The Allfather rose from his seat and you swallowed nervously. This was not going to end well. "I will not let the royal family of Asgard be mocked in this manner. This girl is not even close to suitable. She is not prepared for a life among nobility!"
"How dare you!" Loki shot up out of his chair, slamming his hands down on the table. He was fuming. "You have no right to determine who I can or cannot court. I will make those decisions myself!"
"No, I don't, for you are not my son! Thor is the heir to the Asgardian throne, and the only reason you are still here is Frigga. I should have let you die in Jotunheim!"
Loki stumbled backwards, eyes wide, and you knew those words stung. You slipped out of your seat, placing a hand on his shoulder. He covered your hand with his own, squeezing slightly as if to thank you.
"Odin! You will not speak to my son in that manner!"
"Your son? He is no more yours than mine!"
"Let's go," you whispered in Loki's ear and he nodded, flicking his wrist. A green mist surrounded the two of you as you disappeared, reappearing in his room.
You moved to look at him, but he hid himself from your view.
"Loki? Loki, will you look at me?" you probed, voice soft and gentle.
He complied, spinning around to face you. You saw a storm of emotions in his beautiful blue eyes, and you wished with all your heart that you could take his pain away.
"(Y/N), I swear, if I knew Odin was going to react like that, I would never have brought you along."
Oh god, he was worried about you?
"Loki, I'm fine, really. It's no big deal, I've heard it all before. But are you alright?"
He nodded, but his eyes wouldn't meet yours.
"Go ahead, I won't hold it against you." A sad smile played on his lips as he caressed your cheek before withdrawing his hand.
“What? Go ahead with what?”
“Leave if you wish, love. I won’t blame you.”
“Loki, Loki, Loki. You really think I’d leave just because of that? Then you’ve got a lot to learn.” You stepped closer to him, your fingers interlocking at the back of his neck. “I love you, Loki. That means I’m here for you. I’m with you for better or worse. You are the one, the only one. I love you, Loki and I’m not leaving.”
His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he pressed feather-light kisses to your knuckles.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“Trust me, Loki. I’m not leaving you. You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise.”
He answered with a kiss, a breathtaking kiss that made your knees buckle. He caught you, though. He always would.
Not as long as some of my other fics, but I thought the ending was perfect as it was! I hope you enjoyed!
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Make Believe
Masterlist here
This is for @peterman-spideyparker‘s writing challenge! My prompt was: “Who said we were pretending?” I’m still super rusty, but I’m decently happy with this. I hope y’all enjoy!
Warnings: Kissing. A bit of purple prose.
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“Friday, go ahead and send out for double everything of my last order. Chips, sugar, flour, all of it. I greatly underestimated the Asgardian appetite.”
“We are quite demanding and insatiable. Do you think yourself up to the task?”
Your head shot up and whipped around at the rich, silken voice directed from over your shoulder. Loki grinned down at you, entirely too close so that you could smell the cedar and cinnamon of his cologne, before stepping to your side to eye the tray of chocolate chip cookies you had just taken out of the oven.
His hand reached out to the nab a steaming cookie. With a forceful shake of your head, you reached out and smacked it lightly. “They aren’t ready yet.”
If you had thought that the menacing, intimidating, badass God of Mischief and Looking-Fierce-While-Throwing-Daggers couldn’t pout, well, he proved you wrong. The god had puppy dog eyes like you wouldn’t believe, and he directed them toward you with his lips curling in just the tiniest hint of wickedness.
Damn, he was dangerous.
“You did promise as many cookies as I could consume in the span of one month. It is still within that timeframe, and I require what was promised. Unless you would prefer to attend the wedding alone...”
You immediately stepped away from the tray, holding your hands up in surrender. “Fine. Take them, Mischief.”
The thought of attending your cousin’s wedding alone was threat enough. The constant hounding from your family about your perpetual bare finger was enough to make you turn to your Avenger coworkers begging for someone to get the heat off of your back. Everyone else was already taken or busy, which left the Prince currently eyeing your cookies like he had terrible things planned for them.
And you had to admit, he was the perfect choice to accompany you, mischief or not. From his smooth manners, to his delicious voice that secretly made you weak at the knees, to his impeccable fashion sense, he was going to make your family shut the hell up. At least for one day. And then when they were sufficiently charmed he was going to disappear from their lives and leave with you with more questions that you couldn’t answer. Only about him, this time, and not some random stranger who picked you up over thumping bass music or in the morning line for coffee.
“Tomorrow at two in the afternoon, correct?”
His question, asked just before he popped an entire cookie into his mouth, pulled you from your thoughts. You blinked and looked up at him, processing for a moment, before nodding. “Yup. Black tie.”
He pulled a plate out of thin air and dumped all the cookies onto it, nodding at you and walking away with a quick, “Until then.”
You groaned, scrubbing your hands over your face. “Friday, make that triple.”
~
“Bethany is going to be so pissed at me.”
“Whatever for?”
You propped your hands up on your hips, dragging your eyes over his lean form by way of explanation. Where the Asgardian Prince put all of those cookies you’d churned out for him, you hadn’t a clue, but it certainly wasn’t in the long legs artfully encased in perfectly fitted black trousers, or the hint of rigid muscles of his torso that teased you when he twisted to stand in front of you, stepping close so each breath brushed the soft fabric of your dress against his shirt. Your eyes landed on arms so strong they filled out the sleeves of his tuxedo jacket wonderfully, as if the jacket were made for him. Which, knowing how much Stark paid him for cleaning up the team’s messes, it probably was.
When he simply quirked an elegant brow down at you and slowly wrapped his arms around your back, as if not to startle you, you sighed and shook your head. Like he didn’t know that he was sex on two legs in that tuxedo. The man owned a mirror.
“Because you’re definitely going to upstage the groom in that suit.”
His quiet laughter was low and dark in your ear, just before he clutched you tightly and the telltale rush of frigid air over your bare arms told of his taking you to the venue.
You had been right, of course. Loki was earning jealous stares from both men and women, none moreso than the green-laced glare from the bride during the reception. It had you grinning at Loki a bit wider, holding onto his arm a little bit tighter, and your heart beating just a bit faster in your chest whenever he would direct his full, rapt attention to you for a side bit of conversation.
“I was promised cake, as well. When is that part of the festivities?”
You nudged his leg underneath the table, hidden by the white tablecloth, and rolled your eyes. “I swear you have a one-track mind.”
The look he directed into your eyes, flaring with heat behind a piercing emerald gaze, sucked all of the moisture from your throat. His smirk spoke of sins you’d willingly commit if it meant learning the reason for the sparkle in his stare. “Oh, darling, I assure you that there is much more sweetness to be had tonight besides the cake.”
Clearing your throat, you ran your hands overtop your hair, smoothing away imaginary flyaways, and pointed at the newlywed couple walking over the dessert table. “They’re cutting it now.”
After he was sated with sweets, shooting the occasional question about Midgardian wedding traditions your way - Why did they do something so humiliating as the garter toss - you watched the couples dancing to thumping house music on the dance floor. It wasn’t to your taste, especially not in the daylight where everyone could see you flailing wildly in an attempt at dancing.
But when a slower number came on, an old crooner that reached into your heart with his lyrics and plucked the strings there expertly, a long, large hand appeared in front of your face.
“I grow bored. Dance with me.”
It was a demand, not a question. But the tilt of his brow and the small smile on his lips quieted any outrage that was about to rise within you at being ordered around. Your hand fit into his well, large and calloused around small and soft, and you followed him into the center of the dance floor as gracefully as you could manage.
“I’m not the best dancer…”
His hand slipped underneath your arm to splay across your back just beneath your shoulder blade, and the other held yours delicately. Holding your gaze, he led you into a graceful dance that you wouldn’t even know the name of, spinning you both around the dance floor on a veritable cloud. You lost yourself in the moment, matching his pleased smile as you fell into the temporary fantasy of dancing with the handsome Prince, decked out to the nines, for a reason other than to assuage his boredom and sell a ruse that was hurting your heart more than helping.
It was the curse of attending a wedding without a romantic partner. The happiness that radiated from the couple turned sour as soon as it reached you, irritating and cold as it settled over your skin in a thin film you couldn’t shake. Envy pulsed through your veins like a poison, and the excellent acting skills of Loki didn’t help matters. The press of his lips to your forehead when you were talking with some friends, the touch of his hand over the small of your back, the warmth in his eyes and smile as he brushed a bit of hair behind your ear and allowed his hand to linger on the soft skin of your neck.
It was the taste of forbidden fruit that would linger on your tongue for far too long after the night was over.
Eventually, the song switched to a faster number, something definitely not his style, and you stilled on the edge of the writhing and jumping crowd. The tension between you was agony, the look in his eyes undecipherable, and you squeezed his hand gently.
“Thanks, for this. For pretending so I could have one night in peace.”
It wasn’t peace. It was hell masquerading as a good time with soft midnight hair and a knowing smile. But he didn’t need to know that.
His eyes searched yours for a moment that lasted an eternity. You couldn’t have moved from the spot if the world fell apart around you, for his arresting gaze. Slowly, Loki’s hands came up to cup the sides of your neck and his thumbs dragged along the edge of your jaw to tilt your chin up to him. Yours fell to your sides, digging into the dress around your thighs for any sense of reality you could grasp. Just the faintest hint of his racing pulse was visible over the collar of his crisp white shirt., matching yours as your breath panted out into the chilled air between you.
The champagne you had both sipped throughout the evening was sweet on his surprisingly soft mouth as it pressed into yours. Seeking, questioning, the kiss lingered as you learned the pliant give and take of his lips to the tune of your heart roaring in your ears. Every hope you had of maintaining a professional relationship with the god clattered to the ground and shattered at your feet with the tease of his tongue on your bottom lip before he pulled away, looking down at you with a touch of anxiety tightening the skin between his brows after your eyes had blinked open.
“Who said we were pretending?”
~~~
Little Bit o’ Loki taglist: @myownviperroom @darealbellabelleoftheball @boubouinscarlet @iamverity @rt8815 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @ms-cellanies @rosierossette @thathedonistgirl @lokixme @hellethil @myraiswack @birdgirl90
Whole Shebang taglist: @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @nonsensicalobsessions @vodka-and-some-sass @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @myoxisbroken @brokenthelovely @polireader @wiczer @littleredstarfish @the-broken-angel-13 @arch-venus25 @xxloki81xx @jessiejunebug @tinchentitri @sllooney @devilbat @vikkleinpaul @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @angelus80 @wolfsmom1 @kthemarsian @toozmanykids @princerowanwhitethorngalathynius @sabine-leo @lovesmesomehiddles @peterman-spideyparker @wegingerangelica @bluefrenchfries604 @catsladen @snoopy3000 @silverswordthekilljoy​ @villainousshakespeare​ @kitkatd7​ @nonbinarylowkey​ @lots-of-loki​
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wordynerdygurl · 4 years
Text
Sweetness and Light
Author’s Note:  Hi everyone!  This is the last of my 500 Followers Request stories and I’m so happy to be sharing it with you!  As I was working on it, I saw a challenge from @peterman-spideyparker​ and took on one of the quote prompts, “I am in love with you and I’m terrified.”  It just flowed into this story so well!   Thank you @brokenthelovely for the amazing request!  Enjoy! Summary/ Request:  I’d like to request a Loki fic.  The reader and him have feelings for each other but he won’t make a move because he thinks everyone will be against it and he isn’t good for her.  She starts dating some guy and he tries to let her go but everyone eventually calls him out for letting her go and of course he realizes he was an idiot and then wins her back and they all live smuttily ever after! Pairing:  Loki x Female Reader Warnings:  Some fluffy smut at the end, a little angsty and Loki being mischievous!
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Why did you always have to look so good?  That was the thought crossing Loki's mind as you flitted past, one arm wrapped around Bucky, the other around Natasha.  Laughing, your scarlet lips a daring contrast to the emerald dress caressing you in ways that made Loki jealous of satin.
He was always so aware of you.  Without conscious thought, Loki would, inevitably seek out your soft figure.  Relaxing only once he knew you were in his line of sight.  
His ear, normally attuned to classical music or epic poetry, could pick up your sugarcane sighs across a crowded room.  The lilt of your voice, dropping to a whisper in order to tell a bawdy joke, seemed to float above the hollow ringing guffaws of everyone else.  To Loki you were a songbird, glorious of plumage, spellbinding in sound.
It was a nightmare for the fallen prince.
A being as lovely as you lived in the light.  Sunkissed and radiant, you had this annoying habit of drawing everyone into your orbit.  Even the historically stoic, your Bucky Barnes or Bruce Banners, found their withered roots spreading in the enchanting glow of your attention.
Natasha Romanoff wasn't immune either.  Just yesterday she had smiled at Loki.  A genuine  smile, something he had never experienced before, which set off a chain of events leaving the young God spooked.  
“What?  You're smiling at me… It’s eerie, quite frankly.”  Snarky sarcasm laced each syllable as Loki sipped from his espresso's miniature cup, Natasha's ever watchful eyes on him. “Come on, Loki.  You know…"  Waiting for his response, impatient and searching, she cocked her head.  "He has to know right?  Right?”  Turning to Captain America, his nose in a book, Natasha shook her head in disbelief.  
Searching through the assorted granola bars, desperately looking for a dark chocolate almond wrapper but coming up empty, Loki was only half listening.  "Damn, all out."  Meeting Natasha's glare, "I have to know what, exactly?" "I… I can't.  Not today.  Not with you, Loki"  Spinning on her heel, steaming tea in hand, Natasha left with a wide eyed glance at Steve.
"Not that I truly care, but what exactly is her problem?"  Biting into an overripe pear, juice running over his fingers, Loki spared a look at the doorway before The Captain could answer.
You again.
Coasting into the room, bubbling and bright, whistling to yourself, "Hiya Stevie!  How's the book?  You like it?"
Smiling at you in a way that made Loki's blood boil, Steve sighed, "It's so good.  Like, speaks to my soul, good."
Shooting a wink his way, "I told you!  The part where she goes to the farm?"
"And she sees the truck!"
Scooting into the seat next to Steve, your hand resting on his bicep so casually, "I know!  Oh, it's so good!  Wait until you read the ending!"
Wishing he was sightless, Loki really didn't want to see anymore.  Watching Steve grin at you, your easy connection with the super soldier visible to everyone, turned Loki's stomach sour. The wholesome display of you and the Captain, discussing some novel, made Loki nauseous.
As it was, you were practically perfect, Steve was actually perfect.  Together you were All American, teeth crackling, sweetness.  It was blinding, the beautiful brilliance of the pair of you.  Sunshine and pretty teeth, foreheads nearly pressed together, seemingly lost in a private world.
"Have you ever read it, Loki?"  Your voice changes.  He notices because it's not as warm or friendly as before.  It cools just a bit, freezing your intentions, confusing the hell out of Loki.  
You haven't looked at him once, a thing Loki wishes he didn't notice.  Even now you're focused on the cover of this wonderful book and not the God of Mischief.  Turning to the sink, Loki answers you over his shoulder.
"Drivel, I suspect.  Midgardian garbage.  Melodrama and kitsch… no thank you."  Focusing on washing the pear from his hands, lest he get sticky, Loki's features are unreadable.  His voice though, that oozed disdain.
"I like it… so far."  Steve defended, trying to correct the conversation.
Your mysterious voice went soft, "Well, can't win 'em all I guess.  Thanks for teaching me about your literary tastes now, Loki, rather than after the wedding!"  
He stiffened at your teasing comment.  His back was to you, gripping a paper towel, drying his hands.  Wedded to you?  What a ludicrous thought.
Tossing his towel into the trash, Loki sees you rifling through the snack bin, "Dang!  No dark chocolate almond granola bars?  That's why I come down here!"  Plastering on a pretend pout, you pass behind Loki and suddenly you are that bobbing band of gold again.  "Drink some water, Loki!  It's good for you!  See you later, Steve!"
A hurricane was less destructive.  In a matter of minutes you had blown in and out, leaving Loki in the wreckage of your touchdown.  Even Steve was different after your visit.
"Man.  Natasha is right.  I never noticed it before… but, holy moley."  Chuckling as he returned to the much adored story, Steve looked at Loki over the pages, "You're crazy in love with that girl."
"What?  How dare you!"  Feeling the hot flash of anger flood his face, Loki instinctively went for his daggers, ready to silence the impertinent Avenger in front of him.
Lifting his hands in a sign of surrender, Steve was still laughing, "I take it back.  I take it back.  I won't tell her that you like her."
"I don't know what you're talking about.  Like her.  Like her?  What's to like?"
Steve closed his book and crossed his arms over his chest, "Everything.  Loki, she's just a great person.  And for some reason she likes you.  A lot."
"No.  Not me.  You maybe, but not me."
"Wrong.  It's you, buddy.  And… I think you like her too."
Those words had taken root in Loki's head.  Sprouting branches of thought that he would have never considered possible even hours ago, Loki tested the strengths of Steve's accusation, the validity of his claims.  Could it possibly be true?
Loki denied it.  What a silly idea, really.  To think that some little earthling might tempt the rightful King of Jotunheim, Prince of Asgard, son of Odin and God of Mischief.  Hardly.
And yet… He couldn't help the niggling feeling that there was something about you that deserved his attention.  
Was it in the way you seemed surrounded by music everywhere you went?  Either singing or humming, whistling a tune or blaring your playlist, it was rarely quiet in your presence.  Annoying.  But also, rather charming.
Or perhaps it was your turn of phrase.  "Yes, sir Drill Sergeant!" was a favorite whenever someone asked for your help.  "Put some pep in your step, a little glide in your stride, a little dip in your hip!"  With quips and quotes for all occasions, it seemed to Loki that you had a ready answer for everything.  No situation ever caught you off guard.  You were funny, unflappable and light.
Then there was your physical form.  Curvy.  Soft.  Deliciously feminine and daringly female.  
You wore short skirts with canvas tennis shoes.  Vintage band t-shirts with wide legged trousers and suit jackets.  You rolled up your jeans and sloughed around in ancient wooly cardigans.
Patterns got crossed, like plaids with polka dots.  Colors collided.  But you always pulled it off, an avant garde runway model for a post-modern haute couture design house.  
In short, you were the essence of cool.  Effortless.  Easy.  
"Oh gods… I do.  I like her."
It was that thought that kept Loki awake all night.  When sleep tried to claim him after an hours long workout with Thor, your voice pulled him back to wakefulness, the message relayed through the compounds AI.  "Hi everyone!  Don't forget!  Tonight is the annual scholarship fundraiser hosted by our favorite philanthropist, Tony Stark.  Tuxedos and gowns kiddos!  See you there!"  Even recorded you sound chipper and cheerful.  It delighted and disgusted Loki in equal measure.
At the fundraiser, tucking himself into a shadowed corner, Loki pretended not to watch you and your emerald gown.  Nursing a cocktail, chatting only when absolutely necessary, his plan was to forget his wayward thoughts and yesterday's conversation with Steve.  If you kept away, he might get through the night.
An hour in and Loki's restless with need.  What he wants to do is march over to you, take you in his arms and press that pliant body of yours to his.  Feel your crimson lips, taste your singing mouth and discover if it's as warm as he imagines.  
His tumbler hits the bar with a heavy thunk.  Running his hands through his dark hair, tightening the knot of his tie, Loki exhales once.  With renewed purpose, crossing the floor, he’s stalking towards you.  Nothing will distract him now.  He is a man of action going after the thing he wants most.  You.
Just a few steps more, Loki thinks.  Your profile is illuminated in the dim lights of the hall.  You're laughing.  You are always laughing, it seems.
Watching as you swing your head his way, Loki's certain that you've spotted him and his intentions.  Wanda taps your shoulder, directing your focus back to her as she points into the crowd, giggling in your ear.  A man, broad and strong, strides into your circle.
Loki's step falters as his excellent hearing picks up your joyful squeal of delight.  This person, this interloper, puts his hands around your waist.  Swinging you into a possessive bear hug, kissing you at the same time, he makes a show of literally sweeping you off your feet in front of everyone at Tony’s gala.  
You’re a blur, the motion of it making Loki dizzy.  He is also frozen in place.  Questions buzz like angry bees at the familiar way this person is handling you.  It's not right.  It's not proper.  And it's all because those are not Loki’s hands on you.
"Loki!  Hi!  I want you to meet my boyfriend Marcus!  Marc, this is Loki!"  
A beefy hand extends your way, attached to an equally beefy person, with an overeager smile.  "Loki!  I've heard so much about you.  You're good with knives, right?  Maybe we can train together sometime?"
Loki, noticing how Marc's hand rested possessively on the swell of your hip, thinks, Yes.  I would love to throw daggers at you, Marc.  Instead, with a charming chuckle Loki answers, "Well, our girl is too kind.  It was nice to meet you, Matt."
"It… it's Marc."
"Oh, I'm so sorry!  Marc.  Right.  Apologies!  Please, enjoy your evening!"  Plastering his smile on permanently, pride stinging, Loki slunk away to nurse his wounds in the solace of his room. 
You were with Marc now.  He was too late.  And there was no good excuse beyond pride for Loki's inability to see the plain truth.  You were pretty wonderful, something Loki had always known, deep down.  Now, you were someone else's.
In truth, it took Loki two days to square with the fact that you were with a lesser man.  You were beautiful and clever and a constant delight, but you were with Marc.  There was no changing that fact, right?
Wrong.  The reason Loki didn't surface during waking hours for the next week was because he had a plan.  He would win you, do the work, make you realize that you belonged with him. 
Yet, each plan failed in one way or another.  
When Loki accidentally on purpose cancelled your dinner plans at a trendy new hot spot, Tony had called in a favor.  You and Marcus had dined in the private wine cellar, met the chef, and walked back into the compound holding hands.  Loki stormed away before you could tell him all about your wonderful night. Overhearing Marcus brag about a weekend away, bathing suits and a boat, Loki asked Thor for help.  “It’s the weather.  You see, I need it to rain.  I need thunder and lightning.  And all those wonderful things that you control.” “Brother, I am the God of Thunder, not the God of Weather.” “Can you please, just… do this one thing for me?  Please?” Whether it was Loki‘s manic sincerity or his desperation that convinced Thor, Loki would never know.  What he did know was that your seaside sailing excursion had been cancelled due to unprecedented storms.  However, Wanda had helped Marcus with booking a hotel room for two nights instead.  You had a couples’ massage and drank champagne.  Loki sulked. Feeling like a cartoon coyote, Loki knew the surrender was near.  Always pragmatic, and resourceful, he had realized that as much as he might want to woo you, it was possible that you did not want to be wooed.  At least, not by Loki.   So, the handsome prince, with a gloomy face, once again strayed from the others.  Not content to make small talk when his heart knew such hurt, Loki slept during the day and moped around at night.  He avoided everyone as much as possible.  When interaction was inevitable, it was brief and direct.  Loki had no energy for games.  He was played out. He was also hungry. Which is how he found himself in the kitchen at 3:00 am, spooning cherry jell-o into his face, thinking about you.  He was so wrapped up in the idea of you that he could swear your voice was playing in his head.
“But, I don’t understand.  Marc?  That… that’s not fair.  I told you.  I told you how the job was… what I had to do… how it might be hard sometimes… But I thought?  Oh.  Oh…”  
Pausing, Loki realized that you weren’t an illusion.  You were at the compound, and tonight you weren’t laughing.  In fact, Loki was fairly certain that he heard a sniff, something that you did when you were crying.  He remembered hearing it when the gang watched Old Yeller.  You had sobbed over the fictional pup.  It was adorable then, now, not so much. “Well… if that’s what you really think… Wow.  Ok, Marcus.  You made your point. Goodbye, I guess.”  Loki had heard you cry before.  Over the old yellow dog in that movie, because of a missing classified document and once due to Clint's awful singing.  Tonight though, there was silence.  Expecting to hear your sobs, Loki, surprised by the quiet, risked a peek around the corner to check on you. Probably, because you thought you were entirely alone at the inhumane hour of three in the morning, you let yourself sink down to the floor.  Bathed in the blue light of the Avengers “A”, resting your head against the textured wall with your phone still cradled in your palm, one fat tear rolled down your cheek.
Later on, Loki would tell you that everything that followed was because of that tear.  Something about that shiny track of sadness had hit the jokester right in his heart, watering the shriveled seed of his love for you.  It made him want to hold you, to keep the hurts of life away, protect you from the kind of sadness that had forced your happiness into hiding. Unhappy didn't do your current mental state justice.  More silent tears joined the first.  Another failed relationship, and if you were honest the water works weren't for Marcus.  They were for you.  
He was a handsome distraction, for sure.  And his reasons for dumping you?  Valid.  True.  
Canceled dates, long nights at work, the constantly ringing phone.  All things that you found more important than Marcus.  He was absolutely correct when laying the blame for this failure at your feet.  You did not want your partnership with Marcus to thrive, survive.  You had been killing time with him and that wasn't fair.
Not when there was someone else on your mind all the time.  
Marcus had been a paltry replacement for the man you really wanted.  Even though you had tried to deny it, fight against it, every time he touched you, you ached for the nimble fingers of a demigod.  Each kiss from Marc made you hungry for the flavor of Loki's mouth.  You hated yourself for it but stopping those thoughts had proven too difficult to manage.  In response, avoiding your boyfriend had become an easy habit to cultivate.
Which was worse, you sat on the floor wondering.  Having the wrong man or having no man?  Lusting after one while leading on the other?  Being desired by Marcus but faking your interest in him?  Wanting Loki but not being wanted by him in return?
You closed your eyes, breathing deeply, mad at yourself.  There was no way to know Loki was watching you fall apart from the safety of the kitchenette.  Awash in self anger, almost alone, you struggled to pull yourself together.
Instead of second guessing himself, taking a deep breath, Loki swiftly rounded the corner and slipped down next to you.  His bony knee brushed against your own, "Some might give you a penny for your thoughts… but I'm afraid I only have a dark chocolate almond bar."  "Loki…"  Sighing with a small chuckle, barely surprised at his presence, you grabbed the offered snack, "My thoughts aren't worth this much."
"That's where you are wrong, dove.  I would pay this and more to have a better understanding of you."
Snorting derisively, "Really?  Most days you can barely be civil to me."
Loki's fierce gaze locked on your watery one, "Yes… well.  For that, I apologize.  You… You are a very nice person.  I, unfortunately, am not."
Swiping at your wet cheeks, smiling, "You are too!  Or, you can be… if you want to be."
"No, I leave chivalry to my brother.  Kindness to Captain Rogers… Sweetness to, well, you."
Turning toward him, your leg folded under you, "You're here now, and with my favorite snack, no less!  That's pretty nice, Loki."
Shyly smiling, "About that… I know you like them.  I keep a small stash in my room, in case Stark runs out."
"What?  Really?"  It's hard to believe that Loki would be so secretly thoughtful.  Playing with the wrapper in your hand, you raised a glance to the studious prince beside you, "That's… that maybe the sweetest thing anyone has done for me."
"I doubt that.  I'm sure your friend, Marcus, has done kind things for you."  Just saying the name made Loki's heart leap, worried that it might spook you.  Or, and this was worse, that you'd defend him because Marcus was the one you wanted.
"Don't play coy, Loki.  You know he just dumped me.  It's over… it's been over almost since it began."  Resting your warm hand on Loki's arm, the zing of your touch scorching his cool skin, distracted and disoriented him for a moment.
Whispering, almost timid with wanting to know, "Did you love him?  Do you?"
Slumping forward, your shaggy hair covering your face, "Nope.  Not even a little bit."
"Really?"  Loki fought against the swelling of glee that surged through him at your admission.
Snapping your head up, searching his face, "You sound surprised.  You shouldn't be… See, Loki,  I'm not as nice as you think I am."
"Oh yes you are… even now you feel bad about all this.  You wish you could have loved Marcus, eased his hurt, regardless of your own unhappiness. "  
Shaking your head gently, shrugging, "It would be easier, I think.  Less painful.  And I wouldn't be alone… again."
Loki betrayed nothing in his voice, but his mind was in a tailspin.  In a husky hum, he asked you, "Is that all you want, dove?  Not to be alone?"
Flashing your floormate a small smile, it faltered when you realized just how close you and Loki were.  He hadn't moved.  You had.  Near enough that you felt his body's heat melt into yours.  
"No… but it's a good start, don't you think?"
Instinctively, Loki reached out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.  "I think I am in love with you and I'm terrified."  
Hanging in the air between you, Loki's words, uttered so casually, expanded to fill the following silence.  Raising his hope filled eyes to yours, Loki offered a half smile, "Come on dove, if I have even half a chance, then for Odin's sake, tell me."
First your body went cold, shocked at Loki's revelation.  Next, a flush of heat rolled over you, flaming your cheeks.  It settled into your lower belly as a throbbing ache, an unscratched itch, needy and raw.
Murmuring, stunned, "You like me?"
Tossing his dark hair, "No… no, little one.  I love you.  And I am truly scared that you don’t feel the same way."  Loki shifted, mirroring your posture, your folded knees grazing against each other.  Leaning into your space, Loki's hands cupped your face.  Brushing his lips across your forehead, he kissed down the bridge of your nose and over your heated cheeks.  
His thumbs stroked along your jaw, tilting your chin up, as your lips parted.  Wasting no time, Loki pressed his firm mouth to yours, kissing you sweetly.  You felt his fingers tangle in your hair, drawing you deeper into Loki's arms, his tongue licking into your warm mouth.
Happily swallowing your sweet sigh, Loki's lips asked for more of you and you obliged.  Your hands gripped his shoulders, enjoying the firm muscled man beneath your hands, savoring the taste of Loki's tongue.  He pulled away first, groaning, "I have wanted to do that for a long time."
"Me too."
Picking up your hand, threading his digits through yours, "But… my leg is falling asleep sitting here on the floor."
Laughing out loud, "Me too!"  You moved to stand, but Loki tugged you back down again.
"Before we go… I wanted to ask you out for a proper date.  Dinner, a movie… dancing, drinks… whatever.  You name it!  I want to do this right, you see."
Nodding, you bit into your bottom lip, "I will let you wine and dine me, Loki.  I promise.  But… if I'm honest with you, I have been thinking about kissing you for months now… and I don't want to stop."
Loki stood taking you with him.  Once you were on your feet, your tall god wrapped his arm around your waist, snuggling you into his chest.  "I was afraid I had missed my chance.  That someone else had taken your heart."
"It's always been yours, Loki.  I’m in love with you too."
Your body melded to his.  Those lips were on your neck, making you gasp in rapture, as Loki's hands cupped your bottom.  Draping your arms over his broad shoulders, feeling the tensing muscles underneath the fabric of his dark tee, had you panting.
"Gods, you are incredible!"  
Like a purring cat, you rubbed your cheek into Loki's chest, "I could say the same about you."
Swallowing hard, still keeping you close, Loki studied your expression.  "Come on, dove.  Let's go."
Confusion crowded your features, "Go where?"
"I'm taking you to bed!"  Loki scooped you up, one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back, as if you were a distressed damsel.  Squealing his name, you threw your head back, happy in Loki's capable hands.
In his apartment, naked on Loki's bed, you let his mouth devour you.  Starting with your full, round breasts, Loki licked and sucked your nipples under they were painfully taut.  Then his fingers found your peaks, pulling and tugging, until you were mewling for more.
Loki's tongue traced a line down the center of your body.  When he reached your glistening core, Loki used his thumbs to part your lower lips, blowing gently over your aroused flesh.  "Stop wiggling, dove!"
"But Loki!  I need you!"  As the words left your mouth, Loki's tongue licked through your silky skin, circling your clustered nerves.  You cried out when he sucked the sensitive nub between his lips while still licking against your sex.
With shaking thighs, your body released hard while Loki drank down your nectar.  Kissing back up your body, you tasted yourself when his mouth met yours, your tongues colliding.  Reaching down between your bodies, your fingers found Loki's significant size and you smiled wickedly.
"Easy kitten!"
"Oh no, I want you, Loki.  Hard and fast.  Please?"  When he tipped his head, agreeing, you gave his length a gentle squeeze.  Loki rested his forehead to yours as your lovely little hand directed him to your velvet core.
Once there, Loki's mouth found yours, tenderly kissing you as he gently burrowed into your slick satin skin.  Taking more and more of you, claiming your body with his deep thrusts, Loki's hips rocked into you.  Each plunge pushed you closer to completion.  
Your walls tightening, gripping Loki, had him moaning your name.  "I'm close, dove… so close."  
"Me too, Loki!"
His clever fingers dropped to your cleft, rubbing your engorged button, as Loki drove into you once more.  In a flash of supreme pleasure your bliss roared through you, stealing Loki's climax at the same time, as you clung to your man.  Shivering from the intensity of your passion, you refused to let Loki go, keeping your arms firmly around him as your body moved mindlessly in delight.
Loki kissed away the happy tears that spotted your cheeks.  Brushing the hair back from your face, he whispered tender words like "love" and "beautiful" and "darling girl" until slowly your tense muscles relaxed.  Loki gently withdrew from you, rolling you to your side to face him, wrapping a protective arm over you.
Satisfied beyond reason, you looked at your raven haired lover, eyes heavy.  "You should sleep, dove." "Hmm… yes.  But you'll stay with me, right, Loki?"
"Of course.  You're my sweet girl."
Scrunching into his side, snuggling under his quilt, you smiled.  “That’s me!"
The next morning Loki stirred some sugar into his tiny espresso cup, a secret smile turning up the corners of his mouth.  Steve sat at the counter, a newspaper spread out in front of him, mug of coffee nearby.  From down the hall, your whistling reaches the room before you do.
"Hiya Stevie!  Any good news in there today?"
Tearing himself away, "Not that I've seen.  How are you?  You seem… happy.  Happier than usual."
You lock eyes with Loki, grinning from ear to ear, "I am.  Things are good… great even."
Hopping up on the island, looking through the bin of snack bars, Loki steps between your knees.  "Looking for this?"  
"Yes!  My favorite treat!  And my favorite you!"  Throwing your arms around his neck, you draw Loki into a deep kiss, his hands running up your sides.
Understanding lit up Steve’s face, "Whoa!  Wait!  Is this real?  Did it finally happen?"    
"Yup!  So, uh… tell Tony we're taking the morning off, ok?"
"Actually, Steve, please tell Stark that we are taking the rest of the day off.  Don't call.  My sweet girl and I will be too busy to answer."  With that Loki grabbed you by the hips, wrapping your legs around him as he marched you out of the room.
Sweetness and Light, that’s what you were and that’s just what Loki needed.   ----
Tags:  @brokenthelovely​ @iamverity​ @just-random-obsessions​ @jamielea81​ @archy3001​ @jessiejunebug​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @mizfit2​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @procrastinatinglikeabitch​ @lots-of-loki​
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We Should Probably Fix That
Summary- 2k Bucky Barnes x Y/N. Bucky and You meet up in the Locker room. SMUT. NSFW. written for Kristens 2020 writing challenge. Thanks for hosting, it was alot of fun! My Prompt- “Oh dont mind me. Just enjoying the view.”
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Here it was a fine Saturday morning and you were staring up at the ceiling of the compounds gym. Having just gotten your ass rolled by Natasha. Her hand stretched into your vision and grasping it, she hauled you back to a stand. "Good try, but you got to expect me on either side. And you favor the left."
"Yea, Bucky bruised my left hip" Nats lips turned into a smirk "not like that! Okay... Maybe like that. Worth it though. Try one more time?" The red head nodded and the two of you separated, going to separate corners of the mat.
As the two of you started sparring once more, you tried to stay focused on Nat, she isnt past pulling out a special move if she doesnt think your paying attention. Successful in blocking her, a quick duck on your part allows you to swing in closer, hooking a leg though hers and knocking her off kilter. Hey one out of three tries isn't bad and this time your the one helping her up, accompanied by "thats my girl!" You two glance over to see Bucky had come over from where he had been working out. “Oh dont mind me, just enjoying the view.” he winked at the two of you. 
"Yea well dont worry Barnes, I happened to see on the calendar were due for a match up, so next time you can participate." Natasha quipped as she went to grab a towel, grinning as she wiped the back of her neck "Y/N was at a disadvantage. Something about a bruise on her left side? Otherwise she probably gotten me more times."
You blush, but your face is already flushed and Bucky glances at you with a bit of worry, when you reach him, he handed your towel to you, then his vibranium hand touched along your hip, the coolness of his touch immediately noticed. "I thought that went away?"
"Dont listen to Romanoff, shes only teasing" you whisper back and lean up to kiss him. “Im not sore, and not favoring my left hip.” Behind you Nat is shaking her head yes, and you can see the way Buckys face changes that she must be doing something. “Nat, I swear, you and I will go back on the mat, and I will kick that tight ass of yours.” You turn around and toss your towel at her, and she snatchs it from the air and smirks. 
“Promises promises Y/N” she states as she gathers hers stuff and starts to head to the locker rooms. Bucky slings an arm around you and the two of you head that way as well, passing Steve and Sam as they came in to use the gym after there morning run. Turning the corner, Bucky veers off to go into the mens section, and Natasha waits patiently holding the womens door open. Once he goes inside, you veer back towards the mens, winking at Natasha. “Go on, Im gonna catch a shower elsewhere” and she gives you an approving thumbs up before going inside and leaving you to make your sneak, listening for Bucky to start the shower. After a few minutes you hear the groan of the pipework and the premium pressure shower heads Tony just had installed start, and you went inside. 
So you started stripping off you shoes and clothes, tossing them aside as you went down the row of lockers, honestly you didnt care if Steve and Sam stumbled upon them when they came in. They knew Bucky was a grown ass adult, and in a relationship. Once you reached the showers, you could see Buckys form through the frosted glass door, on a nearby bench were his everyday clothes, nicely folded, waiting for him to exit. You were a chaotic energy compared to his ritualistic ones. Why you two just worked. 
You decided to make yourself known, it never really pays off to sneak up on a super soldier, and you respected Buckys past to know that there was certain things he just didnt care for, sneaking up on him was one of them. So you knock on the glass door, giving a soft tune to his name as you spoke it. “Oh Barnes, mind sharing that hot water?” You could see him turn in the shower, and the silver of his arm stretch out to slide the glass aside. A billow of steam escaped when he opened the door, and his face emerged from it, his hair plastered to his head and droplets of water running down his the tip of his nose. His eyes rove down your form and your cant help but tilt your hip, folding your arms over your chest, leaving him growling playfully “Why you covering your self up sexy? Fuck come on in.” 
You giggled as his hand snaked out and wrapped around your waist, bringing you in. Tumbling against his chest, your arms sliding up around his neck as his lips claimed your neck, nibbles and flicks of his tongue speeding your pulse underneath it. His hands slid down your back and clasped your ass, arching you to grind right into him. “Something get you riled up today Buck?” You ask against his ear, sliding your tongue along the shell and tugging on his lobe, sucking on it. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as he backed you up into the tiled wall just under the spray. It cascaded down his muscled back that was taunt in his lust.
“Mmmhh watching you and Nat might have got me heated.” A roll of his hips showed you just how turned on it made him, along with the harder kiss marking your neck now, making you hiss and grind yourself back against him. Releasing your hands, you slid them down his chest, the mere touch of your hands left his muscles flexing underneath, along those V lines you so loved, and wrapped your hand around his erection, stroking just lightly enough to hear his breath hitch, and his vibranium arm pushed with some force against the wall beside your head. He was throbbing in your palm, and you relished holding him, stroking him into pleasure. “I can feel that Bucky... “
You leaned forward, husky voiced whispers “Your so big and hard, Its gonna feel so good pounding in my pussy.”  A slight twist of the wrist and as you slid your hand down, you slipped to roll his balls in your palm, moaning as you bite your lip. You tipped your head to glance at him, his breathing had started to turn shallow, rushed, and his pupils blew the further along you brought him. 
“Fuck, faster Y/N” In which you obliged, jerking your hand faster and faster, his hips jutting to keep pace. You could hear his hand tighten in the tile and the distinct crack of it, making you smirk. Oops, another one they busted, Tony was gonna see the repair request and give them shit later. His other hand, his warmth seeping from his palm as he pushed into your wet plastered hair, fisting into it and dragging your lips to meet his, possessively harsh kissing, a clashing of lips, forcing them apart with his tongue and dragging yours to his mouth. 
Dragging away from you, he gasped. “Stop, stop Baby” and you still, for a second before giving one more slow tempting pump, and he groaned, his dropped head to your shoulder giving a sharp bite, in which you yelp as his hands grasped behind your thighs and had you part your pretty thighs and fold around him. The wall kept you upright, leaving your hands free to explore all on there own. Weaving fingers right against his scalp, bringing his mouth back to your skin to work its magic. Following along your collarbone with worshiping kisses, his cock was slicked between your dripping folds. The moment his head slipped into your aching channel, you urged him to continue calling his name. “Fuck yes Buck, make me yours” 
Bucky Barnes was by all means a well endowed soldier, and you gasped feeling him stretch you the more he pushed in, rotating your hips, and tightening your legs around his waist to pull yourself closer, you gasped softly and a whimper was exhaled against his open mouth. “Fuck baby, your so god damn tight.” You giggle and kiss on the corner of his mouth, flexing yourself around him. 
“And all yours, we already broke the wall, lets really break some tiles.” You teased and he pulled back to start thrusting into you, definitely not disappointing, your ass bounced off the tile and his mouth traveled back to your collarbone. You leaned back, giving him access, cause you really wanted him to play with your bouncing breasts. 
“Think Tony is gonna start charging us?” He grunted and cupping a breast, teased it with his teeth, pulling the nipple with a pop between his teeth and swirling his tongue around it till it was nice and firm. Loving how your perky tits bounced in his face, lavishing his tongue down the valley, a mix of your salty skin and fresh warm water cascading from overhead his new favorite taste in the world. “I would pay whatever he wants as long as we continue shower sex” 
A roll of your body viced around him, screaming his name rather loudly and scratching down his back, while he continued powering through. His thrusts got harder, your channel slick with your arousal followed along with him, and reaching up to grasp the shower head to brace yourself. This was exactly why you loved being with Buck, he knew when to be gentle, and when to be rough as fuck. You pulled on his hair when he bit the curve of your breasts, knowing once more you were going to spot many bruises, underneath all your clothes. He was sure never to mark you within sight of the others.” Bucky, fuck im about to come again.... “ It hadnt been that long, and you were still clenching and coming down from the previous ones high. 
“Dont worry, Im fucking going to fill you up when you come... “ He cussed against you as you thrusted yourself harder, the both of you rushing towards your ending, and you screamed his name a second time, his body pushing to pin your between him and the wall, milking his cock for his seed, which throbbed in your channel, shooting thick streams to coat your walls, making you moan coming down. Reaching around you and feeling along the wall, you felt for the handle and twisted it to stop the water streaming down the two of you, and you both just panted against one another. 
Rubbing your hips as he pulled back so he wasnt crushing you against the wall, he reached up to brush your hair from your face, and kissed you softer this time. Not driven by lust, this was an affectionate kiss, trailing across your face and down your neck. “Ready to stand baby?” He questions you, and your hand smooths against his chest, nodding lightly. “Yea, just dont let me go right away, I think my legs might be a bit shook.” 
Laughing, he eased your thighs down and pulling from you, he continued you to your toes, sliding your arms around his neck and resting your head against his shoulder, still humming from your orgasm. You tip your head up, chin resting against his chest, admiring the little things going on, the way he had throughy fucked you in one of the best ways possible, that you both seemed to enjoy these quiet satisfied moments. His hands eased up your back and he looked down at you just staring up at him with a overall look of a loved woman. “everything alright babygirl?” You were unusually quiet. 
“Oh dont mind me. Just enjoying the view” you grin and lean up to kiss along his jaw line, mimicking him from earlier. 
“Well we dont enjoy the view! Could you two hurry it up!” Sam must have been waiting to get into the locker room, and you bust into laughter as you reach to grab a towel, poking Buckys side and pointing up at the shower head you were holding onto earlier. Apparently without realizing it, you happened to yank it out of the wall, leaving it crooked and wrenched. “Shit babes, we should probably get that fixed to, huh?” 
@peterman-spideyparker
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Overworked | Clint x Reader
A/N: I would just like to thank @dangertoozmanykids101​​​ for beta-reading this and helping me with some re-wording. ALSO- This was written for @peterman-spideyparker​​ ‘s 2020 challenge !! 
My prompt was “Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.” [I changed the actual wording in the one-shot because I was having some difficulties actually being able to finish this challenge, but the changed prompt WILL be bold & italicized]
Warning tagz: Just fluff and a couple of curse words (if you think I have forgotten something to tag, please let me know so I can fix it)
Word Count: 674
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Reading and re-reading the script before your eyes, you rubbed your temples. The vast amount of eyestrain and exhaustion starting to cause a massive migraine. You’d been working on this piece for eight-plus months now and it seemed as if you were as far from completing the project now as the day you started it. Some days you wondered if this novel was worth it anymore.
A low timber voice pulled you out of intense thought. “Hey Hon, have you eaten today? You look absolutely famished.” 
You glanced at your lover, Clint. Man, he was a beautiful sight for sore eyes. Something must have clicked when you saw Clint in nice clothing (probably because he prefers the ‘Hobo Chic’ style.) Eyes widened, you whipped your head around to look at the time. 11 P.M. !! Shit- tonight was date night and you totally missed it.
“Is it really evening already ??” You asked sheepishly while giving an apologetic smile. “Oh, who am I kidding? I totally flaked on you.” Slamming your head into your arms on your desk you muttered, “I’m so sorry, I really am. It’s just I’ve been working so hard to finish this damned first draft, but with everything going on I haven’t made any progress. I sat down this afternoon and  I...”
Clint's strong hands rested upon your achy shoulders and stopped your rambling. His touch was like an instant dose of dopamine or serotonin. Causing you to instinctively close your eyes in bliss. 
“Hey, hey- It’s alright,” his voice was as smooth and as soft as velvet.,
 “Take a deep breath…” Both inhaling in complete unison.
 “..and out…” 
Breathing exercises always calmed your nerves, and Clint always helped you remember that.
As soon as he felt you release some tension in your shoulders, he continued., “You’ve been slaving over this for so long, and you refuse to take any breaks. I’ll tell you what, I will forgive you for forgetting about date night if you postpone working on the project until tomorrow. You can take a nice hot relaxing shower, while I'll make you some dinner. Go pick out a movie and we’ll cuddle on the couch. I’ll even throw in one of my famous back rubs that you love oh- so much.”
You nodded in agreement to his conditions. “A back rub you say? How did I ever become lucky enough to snag you up as my own.”
With a heartwarming smile, he replied in an almost whisper., “Hmmm.. Maybe because you’re so damn beautiful, talented, incredibly kind, and understanding.”
He leaned closer, planting a soft chaste kiss on your cheek; after which you wrapped your arms around him to coerce a proper kiss. Soon as he left the room you checked that docs had properly auto-saved before shutting down your Chromebook.
The hot water running down your bare back as you showered was indeed soothing. Although it was nowhere near as soothing as your archer's sweet words. Even with the water set to damn near scalding, nothing could warm you up quite like his unconditional love could.
Donning an over-sized hoodie and long comfy socks, you discovered a hot, aromatic meal waiting for you in the living room alongside your astonishingly handsome and incredibly caring boyfriend. There he sat ready to cuddle and comfort all stresses away from the woman he loved so dearly.
You snuggled into his warm and comfortable embrace, having finished eating and the movie had long ended. Clint softly spoke, “Look, I may not always understand the stresses that you’re going through, including this project and its accompanying deadline. I am worried about you. You don’t have to go through this alone. No one deserves to be alone, and besides, you have me.”
“I know, and I love you so very much, and I love all that you do for me.” 
“I love you too” Was the last thing you heard, and with that, you dozed off into a dream about your life with the archer who made like cupid and stole your heart.
A/N #2 : I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it <3
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Writing Challenge!!
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Hello, everyone!! I know people usually do writing challenges when they hit certain follower counts as celebrations, but I figured that since I always seem to hit milestones at inconvenient times and can never really celebrate them with you guys, I might as well do one to kick off the new year!! I’ve been wanting to do one of these for a long time, and it feels great to finally put one together!
The Rules:
-You don’t have to be following me, but it’d be cool if you did (yay new friends!!)
-It would be great for you to reblog this post to signal boost it so this doesn’t totally flop!
-Send me an ask with the prompt you want and who you plan on doing it with. Right now, I’d only like one prompt per person to be taken so there’s enough for other people to choose from. If I need to add more, I will, and if there are ones left over and no one takes then, snatch them up!
-Please, only take what you can do!
-Write for whichever MCU character your heart desires! Please no RPFs (real person fictions), no Thor x Loki, Tony x Peter, etc.
-OFCs welcome! But if you want to do character x reader, go for it!
-Go for any genre you like, just give proper warning and tag appropriately.
-NO UNDERAGE SMUT/INCEST/PREDATORY/NON-CON/DUB-CON
-It can be a one shot, series, whatever. If it’s over 300 words, I ask that you use the reed more insert, please.
-Please make it known when you post what your prompt was. It can be a mention with an author’s note or in bold italics in the fic.
-Tag @peterman-spideyparker and use #peterman-spideyparker2020 and #kristen2020 when you post please!
-I don’t really want to set a deadline cuz I know things can happen and throw people off, but if all the prompts that get taken could be posted by June 13, that’d be nice. (Yes I picked June 13 on purpose, whether I did it for Chris Evans’ birthday or my half birthday, that’s for you to decide).
-HAVE FUN!!!!!
Prompts:
“No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.” @lovesmesomehiddles​ w/ Loki x OFC
“C’mere, you can sit in my lap until I’m done working.”
“Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.” @agentdaisyj​ w/ Karolina x Nico (Runaways)
“Old age seems to get the better of us.”
“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” @wordynerdygurl​ w/ Loki x Reader
“I’m not going to leave you. You’re never going to have to suffer by yourself again, I promise.”
“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone.” @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic​ w/ Clint Barton x Reader
“If I could, I would kiss away all of your scars.” @catsladen w/ Stephen Strange x Reader
“I think I might be falling in love with you.” @brekkingthebedwithbuckybarnes​ w/ Bucky Barnes x OC
“Everyone deserves a second chance.”
“You can’t keep it all inside, you know? Bottling it up won’t do any good.” @randomparanoid​ w/ Bucky Barnes x Reader
“Hey, I know you’re hurting . . . but, you’re not alone, okay?” @nekoannie-chan​ w/ Brock Rumlow
“I hate you! I’m sorry it took me so damn long to realize that.”
“You lost your chance.”
“You can’t just lose your temper like this every time you get a bit upset!”
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
“I hope someday you get a taste of your own medicine.”
“Go on then, tell me. Tell me you don’t love me.” @from-hel-i-with-love​ w/ Tony Stark
"I wish I could forget I ever met you.”
“I think you’ll be happy to know that I’m not wearing any underwear.”
“Oh don’t mind me. Just enjoying the view.” @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ w/ Bucky x Reader
“It’s like you want to ruin men/women for me.” @justkending​ W Bucky x Reader
“Did you just . . . finish?”
“I don’t like being told what to do unless I’m naked.”
“Damn. You clean up good.”
“Did I just say that out loud?” @just-the-hiddles​ w/ Loki x Reader
“Did I stutter?”
“Did you enjoy yourself last night?”
“Don’t give me that look.”
“Who said we were pretending?” @hopelessromanticspoonie​ w/ Loki
“Did you just . . . moan?”
“I suggest you wipe that grin off your face.”
“Get over yourself, you’re not that great.”
Tagging some people who might be interested: @just-the-hiddles​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @captnrogers​ @connerkennt​ @sociallyawkwardbeanwhowrites​ @omg-imagine​ @majesticavenger​ @blacksuitofdoom​ @stuckonjbbarnes​ @lady-loki-ren​ @scottishaccentsareawesome​ @captain-rogers-beard​
Just because I tagged you doesn't mean you have to participate! If you can, please spread the word!
69 notes · View notes
randomparanoid · 4 years
Text
Low blow
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A/N: Apparently all I write are challenges lol. This was written for @peterman-spideyparker ​​ 2020 writing challenge ♡ My prompt will be bolded in the story . Hope you like it  ♡ Feedback will be greatly appreciated. (:
Pairing: Bucky x reader
Word Count: 1350
Warnings: Some minor character death, I think some swearing, angst and then a little bit of fluff at the end there. 
Masterlist
Y/N = your name
Y/N/N= your nickname 
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You were fairly new to the Avengers and the compound, but you got along really good with everybody, specially Natasha and Bucky. You considered them your best friends, though you had a major crush on Bucky. 
You were on a mission with Steve, Sam, Tony and Spiderman, all of you flying on the quinjet. You were anxious, it was your second mission and besides it was in your hometown. Your knees kept bouncing up and down and your palms were sweaty, you were starting to feel like that song from Eminem. Steve came up to you and with a single calming look and his hand resting gently on one of your legs, you felt a lot better. 
All happened so fast. You were all separated, only knowing about each other because you could hear them through your earpiece. The air was knocked out of your lungs and you couldn’t speak out your location for the others to come. You were barely recovering from the explosion and you looked around. 
You had failed. Debris falling from the sky like rain. Your old house, your parents house was reduced to nothing and you ran like hell towards it. Oh no, please no.  
“Y/N!” You heard your name, someone was whispering it, no wait yelling it. But it sounded to you like they were far away, so far away. “Y/N, please snap out of it. We have to go now.” There you were kneeling on the ground, holding your mom and dad’s lifeless hands in yours. Your vision blurred by the dust and tears, you almost didn’t recognized Steve tugging at your shoulder. His voice still felt distant. Maybe it was you who wasn’t really there. “Come on, Y/N, it’s not your fault, there wasn’t anything you could’ve done.” He said, finally picking you up like a child when he realized you weren’t going to move. 
As he carried you he noticed that you were hurt, the shock and the adrenaline didn’t let you feel anything but as soon as that wore off you were gonna feel everything. He hurried back to the quinjet, carefully laying you down and keeping pressure on your wound. 
“I led them there, I got my family killed.” You said when you finally started to notice where you were. Steve was softly denying with his head and all of a sudden you felt the sharp pain of your wound, last thing you saw was Steve panicking eyes and you fainted. 
You woke up connected to tubes and with bandages around your abdomen and arms. Bruce and Tony softly whispering at your right next to the monitors hooked to you. 
“Hey, Y/N, take it slow,” said Bruce coming closer to you. “How are you feeling?” 
“Like a train ran over me,” you said with a sore throat and regretting talking at all. Everything hurted. You tried to lift yourself up to a sitting position but Bruce hovered his hands in front of you shaking his head no. “Is everyone else fine? Tony, how are the others?” You asked despite the pain, you needed to know if the rest of the mission team were okay. 
“Yes darling, everyone is fine, resting in their bedrooms. Don’t worry.” 
“I checked them up when you all got here, even Tony.” Bruce gave you a soft smile. He told you to relax and rest some more, he did some doctory things to you and and went out with Tony talking animatedly. 
When you were on your own you, in the dark room, you couldn't keep your thoughts from going to the exact moment you feel you fucked up. You kept crying until you were dry and no more tears were coming out of you. You were lying and curled up as much as you could despite the tubes connected to you and the pain you felt, although the pain you felt physically didn’t compare to the one you felt inside. 
You didn’t hear Bucky get into the room, he sat on the edge of your bed and gently laid a hand on top of your arm. 
“Hey doll, how are you feeling?” You didn’t said anything, hastily drying the last tears you had still on your cheeks and turned around to see him. “I hate to see you like this, all beaten up. I should’ve come with you in this mission.” 
“I don’t think that would’ve made a difference Buck.” You sadly said to him. 
“Something else happened… I can see it in your eyes. Tell me.” You just shook your head and turned over the other side so he couldn’t see you tearing up. 
“You can’t keep it all inside, you know? Bottling it up won’t do any good.” 
“Wow, that’s rich coming from the Winter Soldier.” You regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth, but you were angry and frustrated, not at him but at yourself. You knew you fucked up, the mission, your parents, right now. 
“Ok.”  He simply said, patted your arm and lifted up from the bed. 
“No, wait, I’m sorry Bucky!” You spun around and lifted up at the same time so fast you fell out of bed and landed in the floor with a thud.
You were hurting all over but you didn’t care at all. You started ripping off all the needles and stuff connected to you. You drew a little blood and from the pain you were having trouble to breath but you needed to make it right, you just hurt Bucky, the one person who puts up with you and your crap. You wanted to cry again. You were an asshole and he opened up to you so fast in comparison to others, he even told you more stuff than he told Steve. 
When Bucky heard the flatline he spun around and saw you shakily and from the look on your face with a huge amount of pain get up from the floor. He rushed to your side placing a steadying hand on your lower back and another one grabbing your arm helping you. “What on earth are you doing, Y/N?” 
“I’m sorry Bucky,” your eyes already glassing over with unshed tears. “I didn’t mean what I just said.” 
He helped you to the bed again and gently caressed your face, removing one strand of hair behind your ear. “Y/N/N, that was a low blow, but you were right, if you don’t want to talk about it I won’t push you, I just want you to know I’m here for you like you’ve been for me all this time, all those nights I had nightmares or insomnia.” 
“Still I’m sorry I should not have said it like that…” you both were quiet for a while, he was still caressing your cheek and you bit your bottom lip pondering whether to open up to him already, not just about the mission but your feelings. It felt like he had some feelings for you but you were scared because you weren’t used to this. What if I’m reading the signs all wrong and he is just like this cause he loves me as a friend? What if I make him push me away? 
“Bucky?” you whispered, looking down at your hands on your lap. “You are also right and bottling up my feelings isn’t good… ummm I have something to tell you, I umm I” 
You didn’t even say anything and he slowly got closer to you, placed his hand under your chin making you look up at him. “I do too,” and with that he closed the small gap between you, giving you a small but meaningful kiss to your lips. When he broke it off he smiled at your red cheeks. “Are you going to tell me now what happened at the mission?” 
You smiled weakly at him and nodded, knowing that you could count on him not only as your best friend but as something else, something more and that calmed you and gave you the courage you needed to make it through this tragedy. 
13 notes · View notes
nekoannie-chan · 4 years
Text
Terrible wonders part I
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Pairing: Brock Rumlow X OFC (Stella Grace Rogers).
Word count: 2678 words.
Summary: Stella Grace Rogers believed that her twin had died that day, Steve did not know that he had passed with her when he woke up until they found her, what will happen when they meet again? And when Grace meets a certain STRIKE Commander?
Warnings: None at the moment.
A/N: This is my entry to the @peterman-spideyparker‘s Kristen’s 2020 Writing Challenge! With the prompt #12:
“Hey, I know you’re hurting…but, you’re not alone, okay?”
Also is my entry to the @crushedbyhyperbole ‘s Cloudy’s 200 Follower Hyperbole Challenge with the Hyperbole dialogue prompt #24:
“I’d rather stab myself in the eye than look at you for one minute longer”
And my entry to the @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam ‘s 200 Celebration Writing Challenge with the Movie/Series/Book quote prompts #3 and #21 and the dialogue prompt #12:
A: “No weapons. No friends. No hope. Take all that away, and what is left?”
B: “Me”
“At the end of the day, you’re a garden rose, and that bitch is a weed”
“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage”
My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English, if you notice any mistake please let me know and I will correct it.
I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
Main masterlist.
Add yourself to my taglist here.
My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.
If you like it please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.
Part II     Part III     Part IV     Part V     Part VI
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 2012
 Steve had searched for her in many places without success, he could not deny that he felt incomplete, practically all their lives they had been together, if something bad had happened to him it was his fault ... for having insisted on joining the army ... if he had never done so...
As soon as he received the news, he was afraid that it would be completed with the word “dead”.
"How do you know it is her?"
"From the photos, Cap, it's in the files," Fury explained.
What had happened to her then?
"We can do the DNA analysis to make sure if you want," Maria suggested.
"It is not necessary, I could recognize her anywhere, and she is special ... at least for me”
"That is clear to us, Cap, that's the reason we notified you immediately," Nick said.
“Is she…?”
He didn't dare say it, but needed to know if she was dead… he would have to see how to get on with his life, although he wasn't sure if he could recover from that news.
"She is alive, it seems in perfect condition, in fact, she seems asleep," Maria said.
Steve sighed more calmly, they were both fulfilling the promise they made when they were children.
"What happened to her?" Steve asked.
“We do not know”.
"I can't help wondering how took the news of what happened to me when they told her, sometimes I came to believe she become angry, gone and continued her life in the shadows," Steve confessed.
"As soon as she wakes she'll tell us," Nick assured.
Since Steve woke up, he felt incomplete, nothing was the same without Grace, his twin, surely she had felt the same after what had happened to him, and would she forgive him?
At first, he thought that she had continued with her life, which pleased him but at the same time saddened him, since all his life -until before he fell on the ice- they had been together, even before being born having shared the womb.
There was a constant thought in his head from the first day, maybe she had a family if so he would love to meet her children and grandchildren, to ask them how her life had been like, would she have found a good partner who will take care of her and love her?
That thought made him laugh, Grace was the one who always took care of him and defended him, even though she was only twenty minutes younger than him, although when they both got into trouble Bucky was the one who came to rescue them.
He missed both of them so much, Bucky was dead ... but he didn't know what had happened to her, he had been looking everywhere, the History books only referred to him, they didn't mention anything about Grace, not finding the information became concerned, it was as if they had wanted to erase the existence of his sister from the face of the Earth until he searched the S.H.I.E.L.D. files, there he found the news that she had also disappeared four months after he searched everywhere, he did not find it.
But now the Agency had found her and he was urged to wake up; if he was with his twin then everything else would be easier
From that moment in which Steve received the news he had not separated from her, he better than anyone knew the shock that it would be to wake up at this time for her too, he knew her perfectly and better than anyone.
The favorite song was playing in the room, Grace began to think that maybe everything that had happened had been a nightmare the last thing she remembered, if she woke up she would be without her twin, turning to feel miserable and incomplete, having to deal with a lot of things that she did not want, looking for a way to escape the proposal that had been made to her, so it was not such a good idea to wake up, although she could not be asleep all her life either.
She opened her eyes slowly, trying to adjust them to the light, suddenly she seemed to see a familiar figure, she blinked several times to be able to focus, when she saw who was in front of her, she got out of bed practically with a jump, she could not believe it, surely she was dreaming or hallucinating.
"Grace, calm down, it's me, Stevie," he said cautiously.
"No, no, it's a hallucination, you're dead, and this is not possible."
"No, wait, let me explain," Steve asked.
"Or maybe I'm dead, I'm in heaven and that's why you're here," the girl murmured without moving.
Steve approached her to try to reassure her.
"It's me, seriously, I'm alive and so are you," his twin assured him.
He took her hand carefully, knew what kind of reaction he might have, didn't want to upset her anymore, she squeezed him.
“Stevie? How? That day the communication was cut, I think you could not hear me, then they told me that they did not know where the ship you were on had fallen, “Grace said.
“It is difficult to explain, I have many things to tell you and none is easy.”
"Are you really real?"
Grace hugged her twin, she needed to check that it was indeed neither a dream nor an illusion. Many times she had had that dream, but it was only that, when they separated, she smiled when she saw that he was still there.
"Simmons will come to check on you, I have to tell you that you are awake," he informed her.
“Simmons?”
"She is one of the best scientists in S.H.I.E.L.D., I think you will feel comfortable if it is her."
“S.H.I.E.L.D.?”
It was obvious that she didn't know what his brother was talking about.
“Now that's how the Strategic Scientific Reserve is known. I'll update you soon, okay?”
“Why does she want to check me?”
“We were almost 70 years missing.”
“What!? How did I survive? ”Grace asked.
"I don't know, but she needs to check that you don't have any damage, so wait here a moment, I'll go for her."
Grace sat on the edge of the bed, she still didn't understand what had happened, and she wasn't even sure what had happened, someone knocked on the door to get her out of her thoughts.
“Ahead.”
"Lieutenant Rogers, I am Jemma Simmons," the scientist introduced herself.
"You have her accent," Grace said without thinking.
“Pardon?”
Grace looked her in the eyes, she feared there was the possibility that she was a relative of that woman, however, Jemma's eyes gave off something different, she was probably wrong, and then she would investigate.
"No, nothing. I just seem to have the same accent as someone who tried to make life impossible for me in the past."
Jemma nodded, she didn't know who she was referring to.
"I hope that person has had a due," said the scientist.
“I hope so too.”
Jack entered the gym, he had just found out. They would probably have a meeting soon to find out the plan to follow.
"Rogers' sister woke up," Rollins reported.
“So?”
Brock did not stop training, he had never understood why that news caused such a stir.
“Do you think she knows anything about HYDRA?” Jack asked him.
"I don't think she knows more than Rogers, I'm satisfied that I'm not as unbearable as he is," Brock replied.
After the check, Steve entered again.
"I already spoke to Fury, you will go with me to my apartment."
 “Do you have a apartment? And who is this Fury guy? ”Grace asked.
"The director," Nick said entering.
After introducing themselves, they left, Grace looked excitedly around her, many things had changed, she did not know if she would be able to adapt. When she entered the apartment she was frozen.
"What is all this?" She asked, astonished to see so many electrical devices.
"Welcome to the modern age, lil’ sis’."
 "I think I would have preferred to die."
"Oh come on, it's not that difficult."
"Please tell me I don't have to do that horrible red lipstick again and promote a perfect image," he said, holding his breath.
Steve smiled, he knew how much he hated that lipstick that forced them to wear in the Army.
“At this time you can put on makeup as you like, I think you will like the new century.
“And the war?” Grace asked suddenly.
“They told we won”
“Are there no more wars?”
“Enemies remain, now we protect the Earth if you want you can unite”
“What if they are going to listen and take me into account?” She asked nervously.
She hated the "position" that had been assigned to him, she was never more than an ornament, they never let her make decisions or be in battle, and they always listened to Steve.
” Things are very different now, I promise you.”
There was a knock on the door of the apartment, Steve went to see and a few minutes later he returned to where he had left Grace, who was curiously watching the television screen.
"Who were you talking to?" she asked, still looking at the screen.
“With Kate, the neighbor; she’s a nurse, “Steve replied.
Grace immediately turned to Steve and watched him.
“Really?”
She did not like something, she was going to find out who that woman was.
The last two days had been very stressful, everything was completely different, while Steve was attending to some affairs, she went to the gym, looked indecisively at the punching bag.
"We also have weights," said a male voice behind her.
She was startled to hear it and turned around, Brock was shocked, he had seen the photos, but seeing her in person… she was more beautiful.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you First Lieutenant Rogers."
Grace smiled, they knew her, and they finally knew who she was.
“And you are? “She asked intrigued
“Brock Rumlow, STRIKE Team Commander.”
Brock reached out his hand, she shook it.
"Call me Grace, you have been with me working with brother, right?"
“Yeah, we have had several missions together.”
"I’m sure you hate him," Grace joked.
“Are you as bossy as he is?
"I am worse."
They both laughed.
"Grace, Fury wants to tal ..."
He fell silent when he saw the scene he was witnessing.
"I see you already know each other," Steve finally said.
After leaving Fury's office, they met Nat in the hallway.
"She is Natasha Romanoff."
"Grace Rogers."
"If you need to talk to a girl, you can find me," offered the Russian.
Brock took the report that he hadn't even read and signed it, he felt a little strange, he wasn't sure that something like this had happened to him before, what was he feeling?
He could not stop thinking about Grace Rogers, she seemed to him a very beautiful girl, he wanted to see those blue eyes again, he was sure that they reflected an innocence that he did not think he had ever seen before in his life.
To be honest, if he couldn't conquer her, at least he was content to have sex with her.
He was the third recruit Grace has given me to the hospital in that training.
“Hey, calm down, I think this is how far training goes.”
If she continued like this, the team would probably run out of members.
"I'm fine," the girl attacked.
"You don't look it," Brock replied.
He approached her and took her arm.
“What’s going on?” she barked.
“Hey, I know you're hurt… but, you're not alone, okay?”
"It's all very confusing, I ... is weird ... Steve managed, but I'm not sure I can do it," Grace confessed.
Brock was surprised, he didn't expect such an honest response.
"I can help you if you want," he offered.
He never expected that such an opportunity will present itself.
"Stevie, I don't like the way you get along with the neighbor," Grace complained as she took the cake out of the oven.
"Oh Gracie, come on, she's a good person," Steve defended.
"If you say so, I'll go get my clothes."
“Need help?”
"I can do it by myself and don't even think about touching the cake, I haven't finished decorating it yet," she warned.
She found her torn clothes, knew who was to blame, tried to calm down, Kate reminded him a lot of that woman.
She went to Kate's apartment and knocked on the door, she was going to end that situation once and for all.
"What?" Kate said when she saw her open the door.
“Why did you do it?” Grace asked, showing him the clothes.
"No one wants you here”
“Are you going to prohibit me from living with my brother?”
"I'll figure the way to he kicks you out."
Both women began to argue.
"And for that reason, everyone preferred your brother," Kate said maliciously.
"I'd rather stab myself in the eye than look at you for one minute longer"
Kate closed the door angrily, Grace made a gesture of exasperation and headed towards the apartment just as Steve opened the door.
"What happened?" He asked in dismay.
"Look what your girlfriend did to my clothes," Grace replied aggressively as she showed him the clothes.
“Gracie, to begin she is not my girlfriend, are you sure she was?
“Who else could it be? She hates me, Stevie.”
"Come on, I'm sure you caused it, it's not the first time something like this has happened" Steve defended her.
Grace knew what her brother was referring to, they had had a similar fight in the past.
"Forget it," Grace said.
He tossed Steve's clothes, turned around, and started walking toward the stairs.
“Grace! I didn't mean...”
She ignored his brother and continued walking towards the stairs when he ran into Brock on the stairs, he seemed to have witnessed what happened.
"Brock ... I ... how much did you see?"
“The complete scene”.
“Oh no...”
"At the end of the day, you're a garden rose, and that bitch is a weed"
Grace laughed, at least it seemed like she had someone on her side.
"You are right, what happened?"
 "What are you doing here, Rumlow?" Steve asked.
He was going to reach her when he found them.
"I came to leave you some documents."
"I just made a cake, come with me to try it," Grace offered.
"You said it wasn't ready yet," Steve complained.
"I said I wasn't finished decorating it."
Grace tugged on Brock's arm, who was not going to refuse, somehow he was pleased with the situation. Steve shuffled after them.
"What are you doing?" Steve asked, intercepting his twin.
"You owe me and you know it, consider that we are even."
Steve sighed, he didn't have much choice.
"I didn't know you know how to cook," Brock commented when he had the plate with the slice in front of him.
 “I used to do it before entering the Army, we had to learn because mom worked most of the day, although Steve always burned food”.
"Grace," Steve warned.
"I am a better chef than you, star spangled man with a plan," Grace scoffed.
"You weren't complaining before," Steve attacked.
"It was eating it or starve to death when I was sick," Grace countered.
"Grace, enough," Steve said.
"Sorry, li’ bro’," Grace said sarcastically.
Brock was trying not to laugh. 
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Brooklyn, January 1918
 Sarah Rogers was at the station to say goodbye to her husband, who would go to war.
"You know I don't want to go and leave you in this state," Joseph said apologetically.
"Duty calls you, we'll be fine, I'll write you letters every week so you know how we are and just return home safely," Sarah asked.
Sarah kissed Joseph goodbye, who boarded the train that would take him to his destination to participate in the war.
12 notes · View notes
nekoannie-chan · 4 years
Text
Terrible wonders part II
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Pairing: Brock Rumlow X OFC (Stella Grace Rogers).
Word count: 1952 words.
Summary: Stella Grace Rogers believed that her twin had died that day, Steve did not know that he had passed with her when he woke up until they found her, what will happen when they meet again? And when Grace meets a certain STRIKE Commander?
Warnings: None at the moment.
A/N: This is the second part of my entry to the @peterman-spideyparker‘s Kristen’s 2020 Writing Challenge! and  @crushedbyhyperbole ‘s Cloudy’s 200 Follower Hyperbole Challenge
And my entry to the @justmebeingtheweirdmeiam ‘s 200 Celebration Writing Challenge with the dialogue prompt #12:
“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage”
Also, I investigate a lot about History between 1916-1945, so a lot of parts are based on real things at that time. In this chapter, boys and girls went to separate schools, so they learned different things according to their gender, yeah I know sexism sucks.
My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistake please let me know and I will correct it.
I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
Main masterlist.
Add yourself to my taglist here.
My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.
If you like it please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.
 Part I    Part III     Part IV     Part V     Part VI    
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Brooklyn, May 1918
 Sarah was preparing to go to work in the hospital, it was the last weeks before she was given a month off for the birth of her babies, at least that was one of the doctors where she works, Joseph seemed excited by the news when he wrote the letter, although now that she thought about it, she hadn't received a letter that week, she assumed the mail was late.
She was about to grab her bag to leave the house when someone knocked on the door, she went to open it
"Sarah Rogers?" The man asked.
"It's me," she replied.
Her heart sank at the sight of the soldier at the door, perhaps Joseph was wounded and had to go see him. The soldier took a little air.
"I'm sorry for your loss," she said as she handed him a letter and a few other things.
She took the letter and read it, tears streaming out of her eyes.
 JOSEPH ROGERS, HER HUSBAND WAS DEAD-
 During the funeral she was inconsolable, Joseph had promised her that would return safely, they would see their babies grow together and have many children. Now she was alone and she was afraid of what she would do from now on, she didn't know if she could with everything that was about to happen.
 July 1918
 The pain was worse than she expected and they had told her, she missed her husband but now at that moment she wanted him to be by her side, she felt that she was dying, but she knew that she could not do it but who would take care of those babies.
"Get out a little more Sarah I can see the head, bid again," the midwife ordered.
She did and suddenly heard a cry.
"Is a little boy," someone said to him.
She smiled a little but the pain returned to her body, the baby had already left, but the other one was missing, she felt as if time had frozen, she was almost sure that the two had already left.
"The other is missing."
"What?" she asked almost breathlessly.
She felt that she was dying, the fatigue was too much, and the midwife's voice had brought her back to reality.
The next 20 minutes seemed eternal to her and every time he felt that she had less strength
"Is a beautiful girl" 
She suddenly heard.
"I want to see them," she asked.
 New York, 2012 
 Grace was looking for a notebook, she needed to make a list of the things she would buy from the supermarket, and she loved shopping, although sometimes she felt ashamed of Steve.
He saw a folder that caught his attention and he took it out, opened it, it was a file from S.H.I.E.L.D.
"She’s still alive," she asked incredulously.
She continued reading, she was upset, and after all, she had achieved her goals, although somehow she was glad that Steve had not been involved, would have been hurt and did not want him to be heartbroken.
"In the end, if she married him…I guess, I knew it."
She was sure she must have done something to keep her alive after so long, she hadn't even touched on the subject with Steve, it seemed as if somehow unspoken was forbidden for them.
"Weeds never die out," he murmured as he continued reading the file.
"Did you say something?" Steve asked.
Grace was startled, not realizing that her twin had returned. Steve saw the papers in her hand.
"I've been to visit her twice."
“Good. She must have been glad to see you.
She could not find the exact words, she had not even told him what had happened after he fell on the ice, she had practically tried to destroy her life, and she did not know how much longer she could bear to be without telling him what had happened.
"Yeah, well at first she seemed incredulous, but then we talked and she's had a happy life," said Steve.
“Seriously?”
"Come on Grace, she's good."
“If you say so.”
She didn't want to have another fight.
“Do you have the list yet?” Steve asked, changing the subject.
They bought things and Grace baked a cake, Steve's favorite.
"I missed your cakes so much, it's been a long time since you last cooked one," Steve said.
"The last one was last night before we went to the army," Grace recalled.
“It was difficult?”
“What?”
“Cook in this time.”
“Not even though you save a little time now, last time pay was much easier than this.”
“And what do you think of this time?” Steve asked suddenly.
“I must confess that too many things have changed, although I am glad that people do not recognize me, perks of being invisible.”
“Grace…”
"Come on Stevie, we both know that you were popular after the serum and I'm…well…I…I'm good at baking cakes," she said laughing
Steve thought for a while, Grace was right, she was always relegated in the army, it wasn't as if they considered her a Lieutenant or an agent, maybe they had just accepted her because he asked for it.
"By the way, Steve, do you have any information on what happened to the Commandos? I would like to read it after dinner, I still do not understand how it works the inter... Whatever that is called.”
“Internet, but yes, I have little information.
He gave the folder to his twin.
Grace was in the Triskelion gym, internally struggling to tell Steve what had happened or not.
"Lieutenant," Brock greeted.
"Grace, just tell me Grace, the Lieutenant was a lie, I didn't do anything with that position, it was just a lie," he asked.
Brock saw her without understanding, but it didn't matter, he had something else in mind.
"Sure, I was wondering if you wanted to go to a coffee shop I found next Friday afternoon," Brock said.
Grace stopped hitting the sack and turned to see him.
"Is it a date?"
Things were still confusing for her, she didn't want to misinterpret anything or make any kind of mistake.
“Yes, well if you want you can invite someone else.”
Brock wanted to hit himself, he had never been shy, he did not understand why he acted like an idiot, although he hoped that she did not invite anyone else, he did not want his plans to be ruined.
"If only you and I go and come to my house for me, I accept," Grace replied.
"Just you and me," said Brock
She kissed him on the cheek and walked to the locker room.
“Pick me up at six!” 
She smiled, Steve told her that on Friday he had an interview and would return after ten at night, so she would not have to give any explanation, since she planned to return before him, without saying that she knew that he didn't get along well with Brock.
She went to Natasha's office and peeked out.
"Nat, I need your help," she asked.
“What happens?”
“I have a date, but I don't know what the protocol is, I wouldn't want to make a mistake.”
"With whom?" Nat asked interested.
"Brock."
"With Rumlow!" she exclaimed in surprise.
"Shut up, I don't want Steve to know," she said, covering her mouth.
"I'm impressed, why don't you want Steve to find out?"
“It is a long story.”
"Well I can help you choose the clothes and fix you," Nat offered.
"Sounds good, thanks."
Grace couldn't deny that she was nervous, the only dates she'd had in the past had been arranged by Bucky and were always a failure ... at least for her and Steve. It would also be something new to have one without his brother and Bucky, she hoped not to ruin the moment, but especially that Steve did not find out.
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 Brooklyn, 1931
 Grace was outside her school waiting for her twin and Bucky to come for her, she hated going to separate schools, she went to a different one than Steve and Bucky went to, mostly because she didn't have any friends there, she was jealous that Steve at least had his friend in classes, but she was always alone at school. 
She would give anything to make all three be in the same school.
She used to ignore what the other girls said about her, they always tried to provoke her and make fun of her, and she tried not to get into trouble so that her mother did not have to miss work because of her.
"She is very ugly," 
She suddenly heard.
She kept ignoring the words, bit her lower lip, and began to beg for the boys to take no longer.
"She wears cheap clothes."
"I hear your father left you to go with another woman."
“No, I heard that his mother sleeps with other men and that is why the father left, now she does it to support them.”
Grace was reaching her limit, although she did not have a family equal to theirs, she was happy with what she had, she knew that her mother was a nurse and not what the girls said.
She also knew that all of them waited until the teachers had already gone home to avoid problems, although they did not believe that they believed her.
"And his brother is unbearable, he seems in need of love,” another girl said.
"It's disgusting," one of the girls supported.
Grace narrowed her eyes, she had already reached her limit, she would not tolerate anymore.
“What did you say about my brother?” she asked, turning and approaching the group.
She could stand them talking badly about her, but not about her mom or Steve, they all treated Steve badly without really knowing him.
"What you heard silly," the girl replied maliciously.
Grace pounced on the girl, she was going to give her what she deserved so she would not mess with her family again. The others started screaming in fear.
"Don't speak ill of my family again," Grace said as she tugged at the bow that was in the girl's hair.
Steve and Bucky arrived at that time.
"Is that Grace?" Bucky asked, trying to analyze what was happening.
Steve immediately ran to the girls and tried to grab his twin.
"Grace, calm down," he asked without success.
Bucky reached out to grab Grace and pulled away from the girl
"Wild," the girl stammered.
"Are you okay? Excuse my sister," said Steve and held out his hand to help her.
"Get away from me," the girl screeched and stood up.
"We better get going," Bucky whispered to Steve without releasing grace.
“What happened?” Steve asked on the way home.
"I gave her a good lesson, she asked for it."
"Grace, you should behave like a lady, sometimes I think you get into a lot of trouble," Steve scolded her.
"Shut up, you're doing worse," Grace countered.
"You always end up like a damsel in distress ..."
“I’m not a damsel in distress. I’m a damsel doing damage.”
"I didn't know you knew how to fight," Bucky commented.
"I’ve learned from you," she answered proudly.
"But what did they do to you? You can't just hit the girls just because," Steve continued scolding.
“She said horrible things about our family, about me, about mom, about you, she started.”
"Your bow and part of your dress are torn," Bucky observed.
“What?”
Grace removed her bow and checked her dress, determining that it was something that could be easily arranged around the house.
"I'll fix it before Mom gets home."
She only hoped that the next day she would not have problems at school because of the girl.     
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nekoannie-chan · 4 years
Text
Terrible wonders/Terribles maravillas masterlist
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Terrible Wonders (English version/Versión en inglés)
Summary: Stella Grace Rogers believed that her twin had died that day, Steve did not know that he had passed with her when he woke up until they found her, what will happen when they meet again? And when Grace meets a certain STRIKE Commander?
 Part I
Part II
Part III
Part IV
Part V
Part VI
Part VII
Part VIII
Part IX
Part X
I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics be posted in other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and is not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.
Main masterlist.
Add yourself to my taglist here.
My other media where I publish: Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter.
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Terribles Maravillas (Versión en español/Spanish Version)
  Sinopsis: Stella Grace Rogers creyó que su mellizo había muerto aquel día, Steve no sabía que había pasado con ella cuando él despertó hasta que la encontraron, ¿qué pasará cuando se vuelvan a reunir? ¿Y cuándo Grace conozca a cierto Comandante de STRIKE?
 Parte I
Parte II
Parte III
Parte IV
Parte V
Parte VI
Parte VII
Parte VIII
Parte IX
Parte X  
No doy ningún permiso para que mis fics sean publicados en otra plataforma o idioma (yo traduzco mi propio trabajo) o el uso de mis gráficos (mis separadores de texto también están incluidos), los cuales hice exclusivamente para mis fics, por favor respeta mi trabajo y no lo robes. Aquí en la plataforma hay personas que hacen separadores de texto para que cualquiera los pueda usar, los míos no son públicos, por favor busca los de dichas personas. La única excepción serían los regalos que he hecho ya que ahora pertenecen a alguien más. Si encuentras alguno de mis trabajos en una plataforma diferente y no es alguna de mis cuentas, por favor avísame. Los reblogs y comentarios están bien.
DISCLAIMER: Los personajes de Marvel no me pertenecen (desafortunadamente), exceptuando por los personajes originales y la historia.
Otros lugares donde publico: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.
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nekoannie-chan · 4 years
Text
Terribles maravillas parte II
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Pareja: Brock Rumlow x OFC (Stella Grace Rogers)
Palabras: 2457 palabras
Resumen: Stella Grace Rogers creyó que su mellizo había muerto aquel día, Steve no sabía que había pasado con ella cuando él despertó hasta que la encontraron, ¿qué pasará cuando se vuelvan a reunir? ¿Y cuándo Grace conozca a cierto Comandante de STRIKE?
Advertencias: Ninguna hasta el momento.
A/N: Es mi entrada para Kristen’s 2020 Writing Challenge!
Así como mi entrada para Cloudy’s 200 Follower Hyperbole Challenge
Y mi entrada para 200 Celebration Writing Challenge con el diálogo #12:
“No soy una damisela en apuros. Soy una damisela haciendo daño”
Así mismo investigué mucho acerca de la época entre 1916-1945, así que todo está de acuerdo a como en verdad era en ese tiempo, los chicos y las chicas iban en escuelas separadas dependiendo de su género era lo que aprendían, lo sé el sexismo apesta.
No doy ningún permiso para que mis fics sean publicados en otra plataforma o idioma (yo traduzco mi propio trabajo) o el uso de mis gráficos (mis separadores de texto también están incluidos), los cuales hice exclusivamente para mis fics, por favor respeta mi trabajo y no lo robes. Aquí en la plataforma hay personas que hacen separadores de texto para que cualquiera los pueda usar, los míos no son públicos, por favor busca los de dichas personas. La única excepción serían los regalos que he hecho ya que ahora pertenecen a alguien más. Si encuentras alguno de mis trabajos en una plataforma diferente y no es alguna de mis cuentas, por favor avísame. Los reblogs y comentarios están bien.
DISCLAIMER: Los personajes de Marvel no me pertenecen (desafortunadamente), exceptuando por los personajes originales y la historia.
Otros lugares donde publico: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.
Si te gusto por favor vota, comenta y rebloguea.
Part I     Part III     Part IV   Part V     Part VI
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Brooklyn, Mayo 1918
 Sarah se preparaba para ir a su trabajo en el hospital, eran las últimas semanas antes de que le dieran un mes libre por el nacimiento de sus bebés, al menos eso le había dicho uno de los médicos de donde trabaja, Joseph parecía emocionado por la noticia cuando le escribió la carta, aunque ahora que lo pensaba, no había recibido ninguna carta en esa semana, suponía que el correo se había atrasado.
Estaba a punto de tomar su bolso para salir de la casa cuando alguien llamó a la puerta, ella fue abrirla
— ¿Sarah Rogers?—preguntó el hombre.
—Soy yo—respondió.
Su corazón se encogió al ver al soldado en la puerta, quizás Joseph estaba herido y tenía que irlo a ver. El soldado tomó un poco de aire.
—Lamento su pérdida—dijo mientras le daba una carta y algunas cosas más.
Ella tomó la carta y la leyó las lágrimas salieron sin control de sus ojos.
 JOSEPH ROGERS, SU ESPOSO ESTABA MUERTO
 Durante el funeral estuvo inconsolable, Joseph le había prometido que regresaría a salvo, verían crecer a sus bebés juntos y tendrías muchos hijos. Ahora estaba ella sola y tenía miedo de lo que haría de ahora en adelante, no sabía si podría con todo lo que estaba por pasar.
 Julio 1918
 El dolor era peor de lo que esperaba y le habían contado, extrañaba a su esposo pero ahora en ese momento deseaba que estuviera a su lado, sentía que se moría, pero sabía que no lo podía hacer sino quien cuidaría de esos bebés.
—Salo un poco más Sarah ya puedo ver la cabeza, puja de nuevo—le ordenó la comadrona.
Ella lo hizo y de pronto escuchó un llanto.
—Es un varoncito—alguien le dijo.
Ella sonrió un poco pero el dolor volvió a su cuerpo, el bebé ya había salido, pero faltaba el otro, se sentía como si el tiempo se hubiera congelado, casi estaba segura que ya habían salido los dos.
—Falta el otro.
— ¿Qué?—preguntó casi sin aliento.
Sentía que se moría, el cansancio era demasiado, la voz de la comadrona la había devuelto a la realidad.
Los siguientes 20 minutos le parecieron eternos y cada vez sentía que tenía menos fuerza
—Es una preciosa niña—escuchó de pronto.
—Quiero verlos—pidió.
 Nueva York, 2012
 Grace estaba buscando en unos cajones una libreta, necesitaba hacer una lista con las cosas que compraría del supermercado, le encantaba ir de compras, aunque a veces sentía que avergonzaba a Steve.
Vio un folder que le llamó la atención y lo sacó, lo abrió, era una ficha de S.H.I.E.L.D.
—Sigue viva—preguntó incrédula.
Siguió leyendo, se sentía molesta, a final de cuentas ella había logrado sus objetivos, aunque de alguna manera se alegraba que Steve no se hubiese visto involucrado, habría salido herido y no quería que él tuviera el corazón roto.
—Al final si se casó con él, lo sabía.
Estaba segura que debió haber hecho algo como para que siguiera con viva después de tanto tiempo, ni siquiera había tocado el tema con Steve, parecía como si de alguna manera tácita estuviera prohibido para ellos.
—Hierba mala nunca muere—murmuró mientras seguía leyendo el expediente.
— ¿Dijiste algo?—preguntó Steve.
Grace se sobresaltó, no se había dado cuenta que su mellizo había regresado. Steve vio los papeles en la mano de ella.
—La he ido a visitar dos veces.
—Que bien. Debió alegrase de verte.
Ella no encontraba las palabras exactas, ni siquiera le había contado lo que había pasado después de que él cayera en el hielo, ella prácticamente había tratado de destruirle la vida, no sabía cuánto tiempo más soportaría estar sin decirle nada de lo ocurrido.
—Sí, bueno al principio parecía incrédula, pero luego platicamos y ha tenido una vida feliz—dijo Steve.
— ¿En serio?
—Vamos Grace, ella es buena.
—Si tú lo dices.
No quería tener otra pelea.
— ¿Ya tienes la lista?—preguntó Steve cambiando de tema.
Ella asintió y fueron a comprar las cosas, aunque varias veces Steve tuvo que arrastrar a su hermana para que dejara de curiosear y perder el tiempo cada de que algo le llamaba a ella la atención, cuando regresaron a casa Grace horneó un pastel, el favorito de Steve.
—Extrañaba tanto tus pasteles, ha pasado mucho tiempo desde la última vez que cocinaste uno—comentó Steve.
—El último fue anoche antes de que nos fuéramos al ejército, era un pastel de fresas—recordó Grace.
— ¿Fue difícil?
— ¿Qué?
—Cocinar.
—No aunque ahora ahorras un poco de tiempo, el pay de la vez pasada fue mucho más sencillo que esto.
—Y ¿qué te parece esta época?—preguntó de pronto Steve.
—Debo confesar que demasiadas cosas han cambiado, aunque me alegra que la gente no me reconozca, ventajas de ser invisible.
—Grace…
—Vamos Stevie, los dos sabemos que tú eras el popular después del suero e hiciste muchas cosas por el país tal y como siempre lo habías querido y yo bueno…yo… yo soy buena cocinando pasteles—dijo Grace riendo.
Steve se quedó pensando un rato, Grace tenía razón, en el ejército siempre la relegaron, no era como si realmente la consideraran teniente o una agente, quizás nada más la habían aceptado porque él lo pidió.
—Por cierto Steve, ¿tienes información de lo que pasó con los Comandos? me gustaría leerlo después de la cena, aun no entiendo bien cómo funciona eso del inter…como se llame.
—Internet, pero sí, tengo un poco de información.
Le dio el folder a su gemela, Grace sintió algo extraño en su interior, no podía discernir si eran celos o tristeza, todos habían continuado su vida sin ellos, aunque era obvio que no se iban a detener porque hubieran “desaparecido”, suspiró, por más que intentaba recordar algún detalle o encontrar alguna pista de lo que le había pasado no lograba nada.
Grace estaba en el gimnasio del Triskelion, internamente se debatía entre decirle o no lo ocurrido a Steve.
—Teniente—saludó Brock.
—Grace, sólo dime Grace, lo de teniente fue una mentira no hice nada con ese puesto, eran puras mentiras de la época—pidió.
Brock la vio sin entender, pero no importaba, tenía algo más pensado.
—Claro, me preguntaba si viernes en la tarde querías ir a una cafetería que encontré—dijo Brock.
Grace dejó de golpear el saco y volteó a verlo.
— ¿Es una cita?—preguntó.
Las cosas eran aún confusas para ella, no quería malinterpretar nada ni cometer algún tipo de error sin contar que nunca le había agradado realmente tener citas, al menos las únicas que había tenido en el pasado había sido Bucky quien había arreglado todo y siempre habían salido mal, al menos para Grace, pero quería creer que esta vez todo sería diferente.
—Sí, bueno si quieres puedes invitar alguien más—respondió no muy seguro Brock.
Brock se quiso golpear, nunca había sido tímido, no entendía porque actuaba como un idiota, aunque esperaba que ella no invitara a nadie más, no quería que sus planes se arruinarán.
—Si nada más vamos tú y yo y pasas a mi casa por mí, acepto—respondió Grace.
—Solo tú y yo—afirmó Brock
Ella le dio un beso en la mejilla y caminó hacia los vestidores.
— ¡Llega a las seis por mí!
Ella sonrió, Steve le había dicho que el viernes tenía una entrevista y regresaría después de las diez de la noche, así que no tendría que dar ninguna explicación, ya que pensaba regresar antes que él, sin contar que sabía que no se llevaba del todo bien con Brock.
Fue a la oficina de Natasha y se asomó.
—Nat, necesito tu ayuda—pidió.
— ¿Qué pasa?
—Tengo una cita, pero no sé cuál es el protocolo, no quisiera cometer algún error.
— ¿Con quién?—preguntó Nat interesada
—Brock.
— ¡Con Rumlow!—exclamó sorprendía.
—Cállate, no quiero que Steve sepa—dijo tapándole la boca.
—Estoy impresionada, ¿por qué no quieres que Steve se entere?
—Es una larga historia.
—Bueno puedo ayudarte a elegir la ropa y arreglarte—se ofreció Nat.
—Suena bien, gracias.
Grace no podía negar que estaba nerviosa, las únicas citas que había tenido en el pasado habían sido organizadas por Bucky y siempre eran un fracaso…al menos para ella y Steve. También sería algo nuevo tener una sin su hermano y sin Bucky, esperaba no arruinar el momento, pero sobretodo que Steve no se enterara.
 Brooklyn, 1931
 Grace estaba afuera de su escuela esperando a que su mellizo y Bucky llegaran por ella, odiaba ir a escuelas separadas, ella iba a una diferente de a que iban Steve y Bucky, más que nada porque no tenía ninguna amiga en ese lugar, estaba celosa de que Steve al menos tenía a su amigo en clases, pero ella siempre estaba sola en la escuela. Daría lo que fuera para que los tres estuvieran en la misma escuela.
Solía ignorar lo que las otras niñas decían de ella, siempre buscaban provocarla y burlarse de ella, trataba de no meterse en problemas para que su madre no tuviera que faltar al trabajo por su culpa.
—Ella es muy fea—escuchó de pronto.
Siguió ignorando las palabras, se mordió el labio inferior, empezó a rogar para que los chicos no se tardaran más.
—Usa ropa barata.
—He escuchado que su padre los dejó para irse con otra mujer.
—No, yo escuché que su madre se acuesta con otros hombres y por eso el padre se fue, ahora lo hace para mantenerlos.
Grace estaba llegando a su límite, si bien no tenía una familia igual a la de ellas era feliz con lo que tenía, ella sabía que su madre era enfermera y no lo que las niñas decían.
También sabía que todas ellas esperaban a que las profesoras ya se hubieran ido a sus casas para no tener problemas, aunque no creían que le creyeran realmente a Grace.
—Y su hermano es insoportable parece necesitado de amor—dijo otra.
—Es repugnante—apoyó una de las chicas.
Grace entornó los ojos, ya había llegado a su límite, no toleraría más.
— ¿Que dijiste de mi hermano?—preguntó volteando y acercándose al grupo.
Podría soportar que hablaran mal de ella, pero no de su mamá ni de Steve, todos trataban mal a Steve sin siquiera conocerlo realmente.
—Lo que escuchaste tonta—respondió la niña con malicia.
Grace se abalanzó sobre la chica, le iba a dar su merecido para que no se volviera a meter con su familia. Las otras empezaron a gritar asustadas.
—No vuelvas hablar mal de mi familia—dijo Grace mientras le jalaba el moño que traía en el cabello a la niña.
Steve y Bucky llegaron en ese momento.
— ¿Es Grace?—preguntó Bucky tratando de analizar lo que estaba pasando.
De inmediato Steve corrió hacia las chicas y trató de agarrar a su melliza
—Grace, cálmate—pidió sin obtener éxito.
Bucky alcanzó a agarrar a Grace y separó de la chica
—Salvaje—balbuceó la chica.
— ¿Estás bien?, disculpa mi hermana—dijo Steve y le tendió la mano para ayudarla
—Aléjate de mí—chilló la niña y se levantó.
—Será mejor que nos vayamos—le susurró Bucky a Steve sin soltar a Grace.
— ¿Qué fue lo que pasó?—pregunto Steve camino a casa.
—Le di una buena lección, ella se lo buscó.
—Grace, deberías comportarte como una dama, a veces creo que te metes en muchos problemas—la regaño Steve.
—Cállate, a ti te va peor—contraatacó Grace.
—Tú siempre terminas como una damisela en apuro…
— No soy una damisela en apuros. Soy una damisela haciendo daño.
—No sabía que sabias como pelear—comentó Bucky.
—Aprendí ustedes—respondió orgullosa.
— ¿Pero qué te hicieron?, no puedes ir pegándole a las chicas nada más porque si—continuó regañando Steve.
—Ella dijo cosas horribles de nuestra familia, de mí, de mamá, de ti, ella empezó.
—Tu moño y una parte de tu vestido rotos—observó Bucky.
— ¿Qué?
Grace se quitó el moño y revisó su vestido, determinó que era algo que se podía arreglar fácilmente en la casa.
—Lo arreglaré antes de que mamá llegue a casa.
Solo esperaba que al día siguiente no fuese a tener problemas en la escuela por culpa de la niña.                                                                                                                               
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nekoannie-chan · 4 years
Text
Terribles maravillas parte I
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Pareja: Brock Rumlow x OFC (Stella Grace Rogers)
Palabras: 2457 palabras
Resumen: Stella Grace Rogers creyó que su mellizo había muerto aquel día, Steve no sabía que había pasado con ella cuando él despertó hasta que la encontraron, ¿qué pasará cuando se vuelvan a reunir? ¿Y cuándo Grace conozca a cierto Comandante de STRIKE?
Advertencias: Ninguna hasta el momento.
A/N: Es mi entrada para Kristen’s 2020 Writing Challenge! con la frase #12:
“Hey, sé que estás herida…pero, no estás sola, ¿de acuerdo?”
Así como mi entrada para Cloudy’s 200 Follower Hyperbole Challenge con el diálogo hiperbólico #24:
“Prefiero apuñalarme a mí misma en el ojo que mirarte un minute más”
Y mi entrada para 200 Celebration Writing Challenge con las frases de Películas/Series/libros #3 y #21 y el diálogo #12:
A: “Sin armas. Sin amigos. Sin esperanza. Quita todo eso, y ¿qué es lo que queda?”
B: “Yo”
“Al final del día, eres una rosa de jardín, y esa perra es una hierba”
“No soy una damisela en apuros. Soy una damisela haciendo daño”
No doy ningún permiso para que mis fics sean publicados en otra plataforma o idioma (yo traduzco mi propio trabajo) o el uso de mis gráficos (mis separadores de texto también están incluidos), los cuales hice exclusivamente para mis fics, por favor respeta mi trabajo y no lo robes. Aquí en la plataforma hay personas que hacen separadores de texto para que cualquiera los pueda usar, los míos no son públicos, por favor busca los de dichas personas. La única excepción serían los regalos que he hecho ya que ahora pertenecen a alguien más. Si encuentras alguno de mis trabajos en una plataforma diferente y no es alguna de mis cuentas, por favor avísame. Los reblogs y comentarios están bien.
DISCLAIMER: Los personajes de Marvel no me pertenecen (desafortunadamente), exceptuando por los personajes originales y la historia.
Otros lugares donde publico: Wattpad, Ao3, ffnet.
Si te gusto por favor vota, comenta y rebloguea.
Part II     Part III     Part IV   Part V     Part VI
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2012
 Steve la había buscado en muchos lugares sin éxito, no podía negar que sentía incompleto, prácticamente toda su vida habían estado juntos, si algo malo le había pasado era culpa de él…por haber insistido en entrar al ejército…si nunca lo hubiera hecho…
En cuanto recibió la noticia tuvo miedo de que fuese completada con la palabra “muerta”.
— ¿Como saben que es ella?—preguntó.
—Por las fotos, Cap, está en los archivos—explicó Fury.
¿Qué era lo que le había pasado entonces?
—Podemos hacer un análisis de ADN para asegurarnos si quieres—propuso Maria.
—No es necesario, podría reconocerla donde fuera, ella es especial…al menos para mí—
—Eso nos queda claro Cap, por eso te hemos avisado de inmediato—aclaró Nick.
— ¿Ella está…?
No se atrevía a decirlo, pero necesitaba saber, si estaba muerta…tendría que ver cómo seguir con su vida, aunque no estaba seguro si se podría reponer de esa noticia.
—Está viva, parece que en perfectas condiciones, de hecho parece dormida—aseguró Maria.
Steve suspiró más tranquilo, ambos estaban cumpliendo la promesa que hicieron de niños.
— ¿Qué fue lo que le pasó?—cuestionó Steve.
—No sabemos.
—No puedo dejar de preguntarme cómo tomó la noticia de lo que me pasó cuando se lo dijeron, a veces llegué a creer que se había enojado, ido y continuado con su vida en las sombras—confesó Steve.
—En cuanto despierte nos contará—aseguro Nick.
Desde que despertó Steve se sentía incompleto, nada era lo mismo sin Grace, su melliza, seguramente ella había sentido lo mismo después de lo que le había pasado a él, ¿lo perdonaría?
Al principio pensó que ella había continuado con su vida, cosa que le alegraba pero a la vez le entristecía, ya que toda su vida -hasta antes que él cayera en el hielo- habían estado juntos, incluso antes de nacer al haber compartido el vientre materno.
Había un pensamiento constante en su cabeza desde el primer día, quizás ella tuvo una familia, si era así le encantaría conocer a sus sobrinos, a los hijos de ellos, que le contaran como había sido la vida de ella, ¿ella habría encontrado una buena pareja que la cuidara y amará?
Ese pensamiento le dio risa, Grace era quien siempre lo cuidaba y defendía, a pesar de que sólo era veinte minutos menor que él, aunque cuando ambos se metían en problemas Bucky era quien llegaba a rescatarlos.
Extrañaba tanto a los dos, Bucky estaba muerto…pero ella, no sabía que era lo que le había pasado, había estado buscando por todos lados, los libros de Historia únicamente se referían a él, no mencionaban nada de Grace, al no encontrar la información se empezó a preocupar, era como si hubiesen querido borrar la existencia de su hermana de la faz de la tierra, hasta que buscó en los archivos de S.H.I.E.L.D., ahí encontró la noticia de que ella también había desaparecido cuatro meses después que él, buscó por todos lados, no la encontró.
Pero ahora la Agencia la había encontrado y a él le urgía que despertara; si estaba con su melliza entonces todo lo demás sería más sencillo
Desde ese momento en el que Steve recibió la noticia no se había separado de ella, él mejor que nadie sabía el shock que sería al despertar en esta época para ella también, la conocía a la perfección y mejor que nadie.
La canción favorita sonaba en la habitación, Grace comenzó a pensar que quizás todo lo que había pasado había sido una pesadilla lo último que recordaba, si despertaba estaría sin su mellizo, volviéndose a sentir miserable e incompleta, teniendo que lidiar con un montón de cosas que no quería, buscando la forma de escapar a la propuesta que le habían realizado, entonces no era tan buena idea despertar, aunque tampoco podía estar toda la vida dormida.
Abrió los ojos lentamente, tratando de ajustarlos a la luz, de pronto le pareció ver una figura conocida, parpadeó varias veces para poder enfocar, cuando distinguió a quien tenía enfrente se levantó de la cama prácticamente de un salto, no podía creerlo, seguramente estaba soñando o alucinando.
—Gracie, calma soy yo, Stevie—dijo con cautela.
—No, no, es una alucinación, tú estás muerto, esto no es posible.
—No, espera, déjame explicarte—pidió Steve.
—O quizás yo estoy muerta, estoy en el cielo y por eso tú estás aquí—murmuró la chica sin moverse.
Steve se acercó a ella para tratar de tranquilizarla.
—Soy yo, en serio, estoy vivo y tú también—le aseguró su mellizo.
La tomó de la mano con cuidado, sabía qué tipo de reacción podría tener, no quería alterarla más, ella le apretó.
— ¿Stevie? ¿Cómo? Ese día la comunicación se cortó, creo que no me alcanzaste a escuchar, luego me dijeron que no sabían dónde había caído la nave en la que ibas—dijo Grace.
—Es difícil de explicar, tengo muchas cosas que contarte y ninguna es fácil.
— ¿En serio eres real?—preguntó.
Grace abrazó a su mellizo, necesitaba comprobar que efectivamente no era un sueño ni una ilusión. Muchas veces había tenido ese sueño, pero no era más que eso, cuando se separaron, ella sonrió al ver que él seguía ahí.
—Simmons, vendrá a revisarte, tengo que ir a avisar que ya despertaste—le informó.
— ¿Simmons?
—Ella es una de las mejores científicas de S.H.I.E.L.D., creo que te sentirás a gusto si es ella.
— ¿S.H.I.E.L.D.?
Era obvio que ella no sabía de lo que le hablaba su hermano.
—Ahora así se le conoce a la Reserva Científica Estratégica. Te pondré al corriente pronto, ¿de acuerdo?
— ¿Para qué me quieren revisar?
—Estuvimos casi 70 años desaparecidos.
— ¿¡Que!? ¿Cómo sobreviví?—preguntó Grace.
—No lo sé, pero ella necesita checar que no tengas ningún daño, así que espera aquí un momento, iré por ella.
Grace se sentó en la orilla de la cama, no entendía aun lo que había pasado, ni siquiera estaba segura de lo ocurrido, alguien tocó a la puerta sacándola de sus pensamientos.
—Adelante.
—Teniente Rogers, soy Jemma Simmons—se presentó la científica.
—Tienes su acento—dijo Grace sin pensar.
— ¿Disculpe?
Grace la miró a los ojos, temía que hubiese la posibilidad de que fuera familiar de esa mujer, sin embargo, los ojos de Jemma desprendían algo diferente, probablemente estaba equivocada, luego lo investigaría.  
—No, nada, solo me parece que tiene el mismo acento que alguien que intento hacerme la vida imposible en el pasado.
Jemma asintió, no sabía a quién se refería.
—Espero que esa persona haya tenido su merecido—comentó la científica.
—Yo también.
Jack entró al gimnasio, se acababa de enterar. Probablemente pronto tendrían una reunión para saber el plan a seguir.
—La hermana de Rogers despertó—informó Rollins.
— ¿Y?
Brock no dejó de entrenar, nunca había entendido porque esas noticias causaban tanto revuelo.
— ¿Crees que sepa algo de HYDRA?—le preguntó Jack.
—No creo que sepa más que Rogers, me conformo con que no sea igual de insoportable que él—contestó Brock.
Después de la revisión Steve entró de nuevo.
—Ya le hablé con Fury, te irás conmigo a mi departamento.
— ¿Tienes departamento propio? ¿Y quién es ese tal Fury?—cuestionó Grace.
—El director—dijo Nick entrando.
Después de presentarse, se fueron, Grace observaba emocionada su alrededor, muchas cosas habían cambiado, no sabía si sería capaz de adaptarse. Cuando entró al departamento se quedó congelada.
— ¿Qué es todo esto?—preguntó atónita al ver tantos aparatos eléctricos.
—Bienvenida a la era moderna, hermanita.
—Creo que hubiera preferido morir.
—Oh vamos no es tan difícil.
—Por favor dime que yo no tengo que volver hacer esa horrible labial rojo y tengo que promocionar una imagen perfecta—dijo casi conteniendo la respiración.
Steve sonrió, sabía cuánto odiaba ese labial que las obligaban a usar en el ejército.
—En esta época te puedes maquillar como quieras, creo que te gustará del nuevo siglo.
— ¿Y la guerra?—preguntó Grace de pronto.
—Me dijeron que ganamos
— ¿Ya no hay más guerras?
—Sigue habiendo enemigos ahora protegemos la tierra, si quieres te puedes unir
— ¿Y si me van a escuchar y tomar en cuenta? —preguntó nerviosa.
Odiaba el “puesto” que le habían asignado, nunca fue más que un adorno, nunca le dejaron tomar decisiones ni estar en batalla, siempre le hacían caso a Steve.
—Las cosas son muy diferentes ahora, te lo prometo.
Tocaron la puerta del departamento, Steve fue a ver y unos minutos después volvió a donde había dejado a Grace, quien veía con curiosidad la pantalla de televisión.
— ¿Con quién hablabas?—preguntó sin dejar de mirar la pantalla.
—Con Kate, la vecina; es enfermera—respondió Steve.
Grace de inmediato volteó hacia Steve y lo observó.
— ¿En serio?
Algo no le agradaba, iba a descubrir quién era esa mujer.
Los últimos dos días habían sido muy estresantes, todo era completamente diferente, mientras Steve estaba atendiendo unos asuntos, ella fue al gimnasio, miraba indecisa el saco de boxeo.
—También tenemos pesas—dijo una voz masculina atrás de ella.
Se sobresaltó al escucharlo y volteó, Brock estaba estupefacto, había visto las fotos, pero verla en persona…era más hermosa.
—Lo siento, no quería asustarla Teniente primero Rogers.
Grace sonrió, la conocían, al fin sabían quién era ella.
— ¿Y tú eres?—preguntó intrigada
—Brock Rumlow, Comandante del equipo STRIKE.
Brock estiró la mano, ella la estrechó.
—Llámame Grace, has estado con mi trabajando con hermano, ¿verdad?
—Sí, hemos tenido varias misiones juntos.
—Seguro lo odias—bromeó Grace.
— ¿Eres igual de mandona que él?
—Soy peor.
Ambos rieron.
—Grace, Fury quiere ha…
Se calló al ver la escena que presenciaba.
—Veo que ya se conocen—dijo Steve finalmente.
Después de salir de la oficina de Fury, se encontraron en el pasillo con Nat.
—Ella es Natasha Romanoff.
—Grace Rogers.
—Si necesitas hablar con alguna chica, me puedes buscar—ofreció la rusa.
Brock tomó el reporte que ni siquiera había leído y lo firmó, se sentía un poco raro, no estaba seguro que algo así le hubiese pasado antes, ¿qué era realmente lo que estaba sintiendo?
No podía dejar de pensar en Grace Rogers, le parecía una chica muy guapa, quería volver a ver esos ojos azules, estaba seguro que en ellos se reflejaban una inocencia que no creía haber visto antes en su vida.
Siendo sinceros, si no podía conquistarla, al menos se conformaba con llevársela a la cama.
Era el tercer recluta que me han dado a Grace al hospital en ese entrenamiento.
—Hey calma, creo que hasta aquí llega el entrenamiento.
Si continuaba así probablemente el equipo se quedaría sin miembros.
—Estoy bien—atacó la chica.
—No lo pareces—respondió Brock.
Se acercó a ella y la tomó del brazo.
— ¿Qué es lo que pasa?
— Hey, sé que estás herida…pero, no estás sola, ¿de acuerdo?
—Todo es muy confuso, yo...es raro...Steve se las arregló, pero yo no estoy segura de poder hacerlo—confesó Grace.
Brock estaba sorprendido, no esperaba una respuesta tan honesta.
—Puedo ayudarte si quieres—se ofreció.
Nunca esperó que una oportunidad así se le presentará.
—Stevie, no me agrada como te llevas con la vecina—se quejó Grace mientras sacaba la tarta del horno.
—Oh Gracie, vamos, es buena persona—defendió Steve.
—Si tú lo dices, iré por mi ropa.
— ¿Necesitas ayuda?
—Puedo sola y no se te ocurra tocar la tarta, aún no termino de decorarla—advirtió.
Encontró su ropa rota, sabía quién era la culpable, trató de calmarse, Kate le recordaba mucho a esa mujer.
Fue al departamento de Kate y tocó la puerta, iba a acabar con esa situación de una vez por todas.
— ¿Qué?—dijo Kate cuando la vio al abrir la puerta.
— ¿Por qué lo hiciste?—cuestionó Grace enseñándole la ropa.
—Nadie te quiere aquí
— ¿Tú me vas a prohibir vivir con mi hermano?
—Me encargaré de que te eche.
Ambas mujeres empezaron a discutir.
—Y por esa razón todos preferían a tu hermano—dijo con malicia Kate.
—Prefiero apuñalarme a mí misma en el ojo que mirarte un minute más.
Kate cerró la puerta enojada, Grace hizo un gesto de exasperación y se dirigió hacia el departamento justo en el momento en el que Steve abría la puerta.
— ¿Qué pasó?—preguntó consternado.
—Mira lo que tu noviecita le hizo mi ropa—respondió Grace de forma agresiva a la vez que le enseñaba la ropa.
—Gracie para empezar ella no es mi novia, ¿segura que fue ella?
— ¿Quien más podría ser?, ella me odia Stevie.
—Vamos, estoy seguro que la provocaste, no es la primera vez que pasa algo así—Steve la defendió.
Grace sabía a qué se refería su hermano, ya habían tenido una pelea similar en el pasado.
—Olvídalo—dijo Grace. 
Le aventó la ropa a Steve, se dio la media vuelta y comenzó a caminar hacia las escaleras.
— ¡Grace!, no quise…
Ignoró a su hermano y continuó caminando hacia las escaleras cuando se topó con Brock en las escaleras, él parecía que había sido testigo de lo ocurrido.
—Brock…yo… ¿cuánto viste?
—Todo.
—Oh no...
 —Al final del día, eres una rosa de jardín, y esa perra es una hierba.
Grace rio, al menos parecía que tenía a alguien de su lado.
 —Tienes razón, ¿qué pasó?
 — ¿Qué haces aquí Rumlow?—preguntó Steve.
Iba a ir a alcanzarla cuando se encontró a la pareja.
—Vine a dejarles unos documentos.
—Acabo de hacer una tarta, pasa para que la pruebes—ofreció Grace.
—Dijiste que aún no estaba lista—se quejó Steve.
—Dije que no había terminado de decorarla.
Grace jaló del brazo a Brock, quien no se iba a negar, de alguna manera le daba satisfacción la situación. Steve los siguió arrastrando los pies.
— ¿Qué haces?—preguntó Steve interceptando a su melliza.
—Me la debes y lo sabes, considera que estamos a mano.
Steve suspiró, no tenía muchas opciones.
—No sabía que cocinabas—comentó Brock cuando tuvo el plato con la rebanada enfrente de él.
 —Solía hacerlo antes de entrar al ejército, tuvimos que aprender porque mamá trabajaba casi todo el día, aunque Steve siempre quemaba la comida.
—Grace—advirtió Steve.
—Soy mejor cocinera que tú, señor con un plan—se burló Grace. 
—No te quejabas antes—atacó Steve. 
—Era comérmelo o morirme de hambre cuando estaba enferma—contraatacó Grace. 
—Grace, suficiente—sentenció Steve. 
—Lo siento hermanito—dijo Grace con sorna. 
Brock intentaba contener la risa. 
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 Brooklyn, enero 1918
 Sarah Rogers estaba en la estación para despedir a su esposo, quien iría a la Guerra.
—Sabes que no quiero irme y dejarte en este estado—dijo Joseph en forma de disculpa.
—El deber te llama, estaremos bien, te escribiré cartas cada semana para que sepas como estamos y tan solo regresa a casa a salvo—pidió Sarah.
Sarah le dio un beso de despedida a Joseph, quien subió al tren que le llevaría a su destino para poder participar en la guerra.
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Can I do #3 “Shh, you’re safe. I won’t let you go.” for your writing challenge with Karolina x Nico from Runaways?
Absolutely!! It’s all yours!!💜
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