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swan-of-sunrise · 1 month

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Hawkeye (Part I)

Summary: Six days before Christmas, a four-month pregnant (Y/N) accompanies Sam and Bucky to a performance of Rogers: The Musical while Steve and Carina stay home, and any hope of a quiet Christmas for the growing Rogers-(Y/L/N) family is dashed when the married couple catches a shocking news report that threatens to expose their friend as the world’s most prolific vigilante.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi there and welcome to the 4-part series centering around Hawkeye and the Christmas of 2024! This is such an underrated and underappreciated show, and I always knew that I wanted to write (Y/N), Steve and their growing family into it (and give a little extra love to Clint, ‘cause he deserves it!). This’ll be very faithful to the show, but expect a few surprises along the way lol thank you for reading, and I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part I) December 19th, 2024 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Steve Rogers, Brooklyn (Previous One-Shot)

With Christmas only a week away, the Rogers-(Y/L/N) house was filled to the brim with festive cheer. Their beautifully adorned tree stood tall in the living room beside their grand piano and throughout the rest of the house, they’d set out their plethora of holiday decorations; thanks to Steve’s growing proficiency at baking, the air was laced with the mouthwatering aroma of peppermint, gingerbread and vanilla. The only thing that could improve their cheerful home was the laughter of close friends inspired by the greatly anticipated opening of Broadway’s newest hit show, Rogers: The Musical.

“I’m tellin’ you, Steve, you missed out on one hell of a show!” Sam twisted the cap off his beer and smirked as he took a long sip. “I can’t believe I’m gonna say this, but watchin’ these two trying their damndest to keep their cool was way more entertaining than watchin’ Nick Fury sing.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes at her best friend’s exaggeration, taking off her jewelry piece by piece and looking through the living room mirror that she was stood before at her highly-amused husband seated behind her. “Don’t listen to Birdbrain, sweetheart, he’s embellishing the truth yet again; as long as you ignore all the blatant historical inaccuracies, it’s a perfectly enjoyable musical.”

“That’s easy for you to say, doll, they didn’t have you doin’ a corny tap dance number to somehow symbolize the hell of war,” Bucky grumbled under his breath, still miffed by his out-of-character portrayal in the musical and Sam’s overly-enthusiastic reaction whenever ‘Sergeant Bucky Barnes’ had appeared onstage to sing or dance. “Trust me, buddy, you saved yourself a whole heap of annoyance and justifiable indignation by staying home.”

“Well, I figured that my brief brush with showbiz back in ’43 was plenty enough for one lifetime,” Steve replied with a grin, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he got up from the couch and crossed the living room to help (Y/N) undo the clasp of her necklace. “Even one as long as mine. But hey, I had a stack of unfinished sketches and my little angel to keep me company here at home, and I didn’t have to watch the guy playing me sing a power ballad to a giant poster of Uncle Sam.”

When the necklace’s chain loosened, (Y/N) turned around and pressed her lips against her husband’s in a brief but sweet kiss of thanks. “I should count myself lucky; the rest of the world has to buy a ticket to a hit Broadway show to hear Steve Rogers belt out a power ballad, but all I have to do is listen in on him whenever he takes a shower.”

Sam and Bucky laughed at that and after a chuckling Steve retaliated by tickling the sensitive skin of her neck and stealing another kiss from her, (Y/N) headed upstairs to change out of her black cocktail dress and into her pajamas. She breathed a sigh of relief when she kicked off her black kitten heels and after peeling off her dress, she hung it over the back of her vanity’s chair and smoothed a hand over the satin slip that covered the slight swell of her four-month-pregnant belly. “Thanks for being so cooperative in there tonight, gumball. I had a really fun time with your Uncle Sam and your Uncle Bucky.”

Unfortunately, (Y/N)’s second pregnancy was almost the polar opposite of her first; where she hadn’t begun to show until her second trimester and she never once experienced morning sickness, she was already transitioning into maternity wear and she’d been plagued with intense nausea for over a month straight that was only just beginning to ease up. Their night on the town served as both an enjoyable evening with friends at a so-bad-it’s-good musical adaptation of her husband’s life, and a test to see how well she’d do during her latest book promotion tour in January.

It seemed as though she’d be able to physically handle all the interviews, press conferences and book signing, but she was still working on preparing herself mentally to discuss the chapter of her life that had brought her the greatest joys and largest despairs. While Assemble: The Unabridged History of the Avengers was the definitive chronicle of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes, it wasn’t quite as unabridged as one would expect; the remaining Avengers had agreed on what details should be kept from the public – namely, their utilization of Pym Particles to achieve time travel, the entirety of the time heist and Clint’s five-year-long stint as the vengeful Ronin – so not only would she be tasked with discussing the deaths of her friends and allies, she’d also have to carefully work to keep those certain details a secret. Not an easy feat when you’re already experiencing pregnancy brain, she thought to herself with an inward sigh, slipping into her satin nightgown and tugging her robe on as she crept across the hall into Carina’s dimly-lit nursery.

Predictably, her fifteen-month old daughter was fast asleep in her crib, curled up under her colorful Wakandan-made blanket and clutching her stuffed white wolf; Indy, their senior German Shepard rescue, was nestled in his dog bed at the foot of the crib and when (Y/N) quietly entered, his head snapped up at attention but he immediately relaxed when she scratched behind his ears and the thick fur of his neck. Once their protective family dog was placated with scratches, she leaned over the crib and took a moment to observe her peaceful daughter; as energetic as the half super-soldier was throughout the day, she absolutely loved to sleep and hardly ever complained when they put her down for her two daily naps. Greg and Mara warned her that her daughter’s mild-mannered attitude could always fade away once she entered her ‘Terrible Two’s,’ but (Y/N) had a gut-feeling that Carina’s early adventures through space and all the battles against un-dead Asgardians and Thanos’ bloodthirsty army that she’d been present for gave her a resilience that most grown adults would never come to possess.

“Sweet dreams, my little lemon drop,” (Y/N) murmured, her fingers gently brushing her (Y/H/C) locks out of her face before she leaned down and pressed a feather-light kiss onto her forehead. “I love you.”

After tucking the blanket around her daughter’s sleeping form, (Y/N) gave her one last smile and turned away from her crib, unsurprised to see Steve leaning against the nursery’s door frame with a content smile playing on his lips. “Sam and Buck already turned in for the night, so I thought I’d check in and see how my three lovely ladies were doing.”

“Two, sweetheart; you know as well as I do that we haven’t found out the sex of the baby yet.” She quietly closed the nursery door and looked at her husband with playful suspicion as they strolled hand-in-hand into their bedroom. “Unless you called up Dr. Prince behind my back.”

“Nope, just some good old-fashioned fatherly intuition.” Steve chuckled, bending down to press a kiss onto her small bump before they went about getting ready for bed, with him changing into his pajamas while she removed her makeup and applied her nighttime skincare in their room’s adjoining bathroom. “The guys mentioned that Barton and his kids were there, too.”

(Y/N)’s fingers momentarily stopped massaging moisturizer into the skin of her face as she recalled the grief etched into the archer’s face when Natasha’s character first twirled onto the stage. “Yeah, they were kicking off their Barton Family Christmas with a little trip to the city to see the show. They left about halfway through; Clint texted me later saying that it was because the kids were a little restless and they wanted to go out for Chinese food before it got too late, but…but I think it had something to do with Nat.”

Steve sighed but remained silent; when (Y/N) finished her nighttime routine and walked back into the bedroom, he was already sitting on his side of the bed with a downcast expression on his face. “He still blames himself for what happened on Vormir.”

“I think so, but I also think he knows that nothing he could’ve done would’ve stopped Nat from making that call…” With a sad sort of smile, she slipped out of her robe and climbed into bed beside her husband, adjusting the comforter over their laps and meeting his saddened azure eyes. “Most of all, I think he just misses her.” And I know exactly how he feels, she thought to herself as her throat burned and she tried her hardest not to imagine the faces of those she still grieved over.

Not a day went by when (Y/N) didn’t think about all the friends they’d lost over the past several years: Tony, Natasha, Vision, Loki and most recently, T’Challa; just as suddenly as they’d lost their four friends and teammates in the battle against Thanos, the King of Wakanda had passed away after a private battle with illness over two months ago. It seemed that with each blessing that appeared in their life, there was an equally devastating blow waiting just around the corner for them and as each one was dealt, (Y/N) started to truly comprehend the all-consuming grief that had followed Clint like a shadow since Thanos’ Snap in 2018.

Being with Steve and Carina and knowing that there was a new baby on the way certainly helped, as did sharing memories of those they’d lost with her husband and their two best friends and focusing her attention on her upcoming book tour. Steve, understanding all too well the emotions that were brewing within her, brought a hand up to cradle her cheek and drew his thumb across her cheekbone as his eyes softened with empathy. “When Cari dumped her entire bowl of spaghetti onto her head the other night and we had to give her an emergency bath, one of the first things that went through my mind was that Nat would get a kick out of hearing that story. It took me a second to remember that she…” Steve’s voice cracked and he swallowed thickly before continuing. “I’ve fought gods and monsters, I’ve traveled through space and time and I’ve lived long enough to believe that in this universe, anything is possible. She knows, sunshine…they all do.”

With tears in her eyes, (Y/N) let out a watery laugh and accepted the tissue that he offered her. “You sure you’re not the New York Times best-selling author in this family?”

“Nah, it’s just easier to land an emotional speech when your wife’s hormones are constantly being thrown for a loop by a four month old fetus,” Steve replied with a lopsided grin while she shook her head in playful exasperation and dabbed at her tear-filled eyes. “We should probably get some sleep; Sam and Buck have an early flight to New Orleans tomorrow, and we’ve still gotta take Cari to the mall for her picture with Santa.”

(Y/N), recalling her best friend Greg and his wife Mara’s many horror stories of taking their little Abbie to see Santa, bit her lip and replied, “Our daughter spent the first month of her life surrounded by Sakaarians, un-dead Asgardians and Chitauri soldiers, so I’m sure that a picture with a complete stranger dressed as Santa Claus’ll be a piece of cake.”

“Of course…” The longer her husband thought it over, though, the more hesitant he appeared. “But maybe we should pack her stuffed wolf just in case-?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Ever the true gentleman, Steve discarded her tissue for her and switched off their bedside lamp before burrowing under the bedcovers beside her, leaning over to brush his lips against her brow while she slipped her arm over his torso. “I also have to text Scott; when we were finishing up my interview for his book last week, he made me promise to give him a review of the musical. I think he wants to take Hope and Cassie when the touring company comes to San Francisco in the spring.”

Steve chuckled and carefully wound his arm around her to hold her closer. “He’ll be happy to know that they decided to add him to the Battle of New York. Speaking as one of the six people who was there, though, I’m not too sure what the presence of Ant-Man’s meant to add to one of Earth’s first alien invasions.”

“That’s the beauty of historical fiction: you can play fast and loose with dates, times and events for the sake of dramatic purposes while still portraying a person’s real-life story. In this case, adding one of the most popular Avengers to one of the most famous Avengers battles doesn’t change the fact that you – the main character – really were there.” (Y/N)’s eyes drifted closed and she could feel her body relaxing against Steve’s as sleep began to take hold. “With that being said, I just know he’s never ever gonna stop talking about it…”

Their tired laughs were suddenly interrupted by a sharp rap on their closed bedroom door and before either of them could say anything, the door opened and the light flickered on to reveal Sam and Bucky entering their room with matching frowns on their faces. “Sorry for barging in, guys, but you’re gonna wanna see this.” While Sam crossed over to retrieve the television remote from (Y/N)’s nightstand, she and Steve exchanged a look of confusion as they sat up and Bucky sat himself down on the edge of their bed as Sam switched their television on to NY1.

“…following a breaking news story, a high society gala rocked by an explosion when it went off at Park Avenue and 68th Street tonight. The cause of the explosion is still under investigation, but witnesses captured cell phone footage of a masked assailant fleeing the scene.” The news anchor’s face was replaced with an unsteady video of a bustling 68th Street; a masked figure dressed from head to toe in black vaulted over a speeding car and scooped a matted Golden Retriever up into their arms, both sliding out of the busy traffic just in the nick of time. The amateur footage paused on a close-up of the masked figure, and (Y/N)’s heart leapt into her throat when she recognized the imposing black and gold leather suit. “Authorities believe the assailant could be-”

“The Ronin,” (Y/N) breathed, and the implications of the infamous suit’s reappearance were not lost on her or the other three men in the room.

“-Who once terrorized organized crime here in New York and around the world for five brutal years. This is the first potential sighting of the Ronin in years, and his identity continues to remain a mystery to this day. We will continue to follow this breaking news story and report on any developments as they come in-”

Sam muted the television and turned to face them with a troubled expression written across his face. “That sure as hell wasn’t Barton in that video.”

“Which means one of two possibilities: either somebody with a sick sense of humor’s running around New York in a handmade Ronin suit and playing out their little fantasy of being a vigilante…” The fingers of Bucky’s vibranium hand traced along the raised lettering of his old dog tags as his brows furrowed, his earlier pleasant mood long gone and replaced with a dark trepidation. “Or someone found the real suit in the wreckage of the Avengers Facility.”

His features drawn with a solemnity reminiscent of his days as Captain America, Steve carded his hand through his rumpled blonde hair and stared at the muted footage of the imposter. “Either way, Barton and his kids are in danger; if they manage to find out the Ronin’s true identity, then every single member of the city’s criminal underworld is gonna go after him for revenge.”

(Y/N) let out a weary sigh and reached for her cell phone that was charging on her nightstand. “So much for that Barton Family Christmas…”

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A/N: And there you have it! How do you think the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family will fit into this show? What're the surprises that are gonna pop up? I guess you'll have to tune in for the rest of the chapters to find out! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

Hawkeye (Part II)

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

Tagging: @mrs-obrien @lahoete @awkward117 @cminr @natdrunk @momc95 @savedbystyle @miraculouscloud @awkwardnesshabitat @marinettepotterandplagg @mangosandmimosas @supersouthy @benakenalove @brooke0297 @hufflepeople @becausewelie @outoftheregular @junipermurdock @ladydmalfoy @mads-weasley @username23345@crist1216 @capswife @lilmschild @avngrsinitiative @crowleysqueenofhell @y-napotat @mary1raven @groovyqueer @ljej95 @innersublimefury @prettysbliss

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iloveslasher · 6 months

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Attention

Avengers

I need help with finding a wattpad book on avengers x little!reader.

So I once read this fan fic of the avengers team which included: steve rogers, bucky barnes, Tony stark, pepper potts, Bruce banner,Thor odinson, natasha romanoff, wanda maximoff, vision, Clint barton and sam Wilson as the reader (who's named violet) caregivers.

Because Violet was used and abused so the avengers saved her and she at first felt nothing of her physical wounds but then the avengers told her that's not normal and got her looked at by bruce. And got her off the painkillers that her captor put her on.

One chapter has a protocol that she can't use the bathroom bc she is hurting her self by not being little so they kind of have to pressure her into being little.

Then loki and stephen stranger baby sit in one chapter. Which reveal that loki is also a little. Then there is carol as a little.

And another chapter where wanda and vision give violet schoollessons (bc she was capture really young and doesn't know hoe to write or read). Then they discover that Violet has dyslexia by telling her to go right and she takes a left, off of visions suspicions.

Also Steve and bucky are a pair and later violet starts dating Natasha and Natasha helps violet through her first period.

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royalnugget42 · 5 months

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The God of Stories and the Nowhere Man

A Post-Canon look at the characters if Loki

In the years (weeks? decades? seconds?) after the birth of Yggdrasil, there was no mention of the TVA in any part of history. Such has always been the case. The TVA prides itself on anonymity and secrecy, almost as much as it values bureaucracy.

The same cannot be said of some of the figures involved.

———

Also majorly fuck Disney corporation for funding genocide. Go here to support humanitarian aid for Palestine.

B15 has a seat in the war room, defending Loki’s branches against the coming storm. Incredibly skilled tactician, yet humble enough to seek counsel from others, it isn’t long before she’s the de facto head of their little council. She insists that no one stand on ceremony though.

Casey, for his part, finally decided to look into his past. Reading history pages and conspiracy theories about his sacred timeline self is a little unnerving, but also very cool. In his branch he was Frank Morris, a criminal mastermind and an incredible escape artist. He’s always been a desk worker, but even if he never does any field work, he’s gained the confidence to become a proper analyst, a spiritual successor to Mobius.

O.B is recursive as always, but after finally leaving his basement level room, he came up with some improvements to the TVA headquarters. Their tech is now more reliable, their processes more streamlined and efficient, and the wifi has never been faster. He publishes the second edition of the TVA handbook. Victor Timely works well with him, and also suggests that they make better temporal radiation suits, even if they hopefully won’t have to use them anytime soon.

Most of the hunters still haven’t read the new guide, but Casey finally works up the courage to ask for an autograph. O.B writes his phone number as well. Of course, neither of them actually have phones, O.B was trying to be romantic, but the gesture goes over Casey’s head for a bit. Eventually they figure it out. O.B takes him to a bookstore.

Brad is left to go back to his own version of the timeline, but it’s bittersweet. He can’t forget the faces of the people who were depending on him in that cube. Can’t help thinking that it should’ve been him in there, not Dox. They all still exist somewhere on the timeline, but it’s not the same. They’re not coming back in a way that matters. When he goes back to being an actor he uses as much money as he can on humanitarian aid and charitable donations. It doesn’t erase the screams, but they get quieter.

Ravonna is lost at the end of time, and constantly on the run from various Lokis that she pruned a long time ago. Alioth never hurts her though. Even though she stood before it, choosing death instead of a life constantly on the run, it passed over her like a normal mist. In her heart she knows it’s Loki. She thinks he’s being vindictive by letting her survive. Eventually she’ll learn that he’s being gracious, allowing her the chance to change. She reminds him so much of himself sometimes.

Sylvie works at the McDonald’s, and it doesn’t pay much, but she never cares about it. What she wants she can summon or enchant someone into getting it for her, and what she doesn’t want she just doesn’t bother with, because she doesn’t have to anymore. She doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to do ever again. She smiles. Maybe she’ll go on a date or something. Maybe she’ll go on vacation just for the Hel of it. There’s something so beautifully divine in being a creature of habit, a goddess of chaos finally settled, like a puzzle piece rattling into place. Privately, she calls herself the goddess of freedom.

All of them find their places, and make names for themselves, but their stories do not reach far, by intention. They are little things, twining with the rest of the branches.

There are two that find themselves in many branches; The God of Stories, and the Nowhere Man.

The god of stories is an ornate title, and a little dramatic. It’s accurate though. He weaves the lives of many into new branches, shifting with each misplaced footprint. The sheer multitude of the branches is their protection; The Conqueror won’t find them if he doesn’t know where to look.

This weaving has consequences though. One of the branches Loki touches is near the genesis of his own people. Heimdall is there, and he sees the tree, and its branches, and all the nine realms. It bothers him that he cannot see into the center, but alas, some things are beyond even his sight. He knows someone is there, though, and the legend grows in Asgard of the one who sits in the world tree, spinning the threads of fate into stories. Over time, the legend turns into the three frost giantesses known as the Norns.

And he is not idle in his throne either. At length he discovers that he can leave his seat at the center of the tree, but it’s dangerous to do so. His power is tied to the tree, and without him it begins to wilt again. It’s a while before he can leave it for more than a few seconds.

He manages though, and even while separated from the tree he can reach into the fabric of the branches he travels, unwinding them and twisting them as he sees fit. Legends arise around New Asgard that the brother of Thor has returned, with an unknown power in his hands. SWORD looks into it, but they find nothing out of the ordinary. Darcy looks into it and finally meets Thor’s brother. She slaps him, like Jane Foster once did, but she grows to like him eventually. They bond over a shared love of snakes.

And he doesn’t always appear as…himself. Sometimes the god of stories is herself, or theirself. They’ve appeared as a snake, a wolf, and once as a horse, but that story doesn’t need to be elaborated on. The snake is most common though, and some begin to call him Jormungandr. The world serpent.

Eventually Steven Strange takes an interest in whoever has been crawling through the multiverse. Loki drops him in a perpetual fall for an hour, and Strange decides it’s none of his damn business.

Legends of these types have echoing similarities. Solitude is their main theme, occasionally countered by the figure of the nowhere man.

Some stories say he’s the only one who dares to stand against the god of stories. His fate is his own after all, because he exists in no time at all. No story to twist, no time to pause, a Mobius, with no end and no beginning. Once they learn of him, they decide that he must surely be the greatest adversary of Jormungandr. Loki, for his part, finds it absolutely hilarious.

Other types of stories do crop up, though. The nowhere man walks among the people, and can erase your fate with a mere touch. Relentlessly the Norns pursue him. Some say it’s because the god of stories wishes to have his fate pulled away from him, like stars into the void. Some say it’s because Jormungandr craves total authority, and only when he consumes the nowhere man will he be sated. Some even say that they’re partners, companions, a yin and yang of sorts. They say that without one, the other would fall to ruin. This version of the tale emerged after too many instances of someone threatening Mobius where Loki could hear them (and if they’re on one of his branches he can always hear them loud and clear).

The Nowhere Man is a being of pure chaos. The God of Stories is order incarnate. The two of them cackle about the reversal of their roles, as they walk the branches of Yggdrasil. They laugh together often these days, and these days are now all the days, for all time. Always.

#loki season 2 spoilers #loki spoilers #lokius #sylvie #mobius #aftermath #norse mythology #headcanons #casey x ouroboros #this is my vision of what comes after #one part headcanon #two parts folklore #three parts gay #free palestine #fuck disney #yggdrasil

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revwatts · 1 month

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I was thinking about a marvel and Harry Potter crossover. I mean not exactly but yes. That. Like where the characters are from Marvel but the whole universe is the wizarding world from HP books. I like the thought of that. Idk why?

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vizhlowkey · 9 months

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I was up at like 3 in the morning. Anyway give me images to draw these two over ✨

Original images:

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visl0ki · 2 years

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Vision: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.

Loki: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.

Vision: …

Vision: You mean ring bearER, right?

Loki: …

Vision: Loki, look at me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

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arkytiorwrites · 2 years

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I’ve Got the Old Man’s Car!

I won’t lie, this was heavily inspired by this Y/N Marvel video. I couldn’t not.

Tony walked into the common room of the Avengers Compound with a perturbed expression. The rest of the team was scattered across the room in small groups of two or three, and the occasional lone wolf; Wanda was in the kitchen cooking dinner with Vision's help.

“Has anyone seen Y/N?" the billionaire asked.

“Nope, sorry,” Wanda called absently as she sprinkled spices into the large pot.

"I can't find Bucky, either,” Steve admitted from where he sat drawing on the couch directly facing the 60” flatscreen TV.

“I cannot find Loki, as well," Thor confessed over the rim of his mug of beer.

"I would look outside if I were you," Natasha advised, leaning against the top of the bar.

"Should I be worried?” Tony half-joked as he walked over to the bay windows over-looking the grounds.

“I have Stark’s keys!" Loki bellowed as he raced across the lawn towards the garage.

"I've got Steve’s wallet!" Bucky added as he vaulted over a row of shrubbery.

"And I know a shortcut to Red Robins!” Y/N whooped as they keyed open the doors and deftly caught the fob the Frost Giant tossed them.

“Is that ... my Mclaren?” Tony asked as the trio pulled out onto the drive with a squeal of tires and loud revving.

Everyone stared in amazement as the resident troublemakers drove off into the sunset.

Tony, Bruce, Clint, Thor, Steve, Nat, Wanda, Vision, Sam, even Doctor Strange; who was there to evaluate Y/N’s ablities in the first place.

“Yup, you two are definitely soul twins,”Nat chuckled.

Tony shot the Russian assassin a look, then began to laugh as well.

“Yeah. They’re something else, aren’t they?"

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shadeysprings · 1 year

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Anything for You

— Loki x F!Reader x Vision

Summary: Your Valentine's Day date with your boyfriend is interrupted by his childhood best friend.

Warnings: This is a dark fic. Noncon, smut—spit roasting, oral (m receiving), coercion, betrayal & allusions to sex trafficking. There may be more that I missed.

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Let's break some hearts. Italics are flashbacks and thoughts. Shoutout to my momo, @mochie85, for being a rockstar beta. This fic is part of my sleepover gift to y'all.

Your feedback is highly appreciated and encouraged. Reblogs would be really amazing. Enjoy! ❤️

Heart full and elated, you smile while staring out the window of Loki’s car as he drives down the highway. The lights from the lamp posts are the only one that shines into the dark vehicle, soft jazz music playing in the background accompanied by your boyfriend’s soft humming while he taps against the leather covering of the wheel.

Your eyes drift to the rearview mirror and the smile on your face only grows further, the bouquet of red roses sitting idly in the backseat, a reminder of how the evening began that only cruised through into something bigger than what you’ve expected.

You give a smile of thanks at the maitre d’ when he shows you to the private booth. A surprised gasp leaves your lips upon seeing Loki standing to greet you, the bouquet of roses nestled in his arms a bright contrast and a striking compliment to the black suit he dons.

He meets you halfway, a chaste kiss pressed to your cheek, one you respond with a blush that scatters from your neck up to your face. “You look beautiful, darling.” He breathes and the compliment is enough to take your breath away.

“Did you have fun tonight?” He asks, turning your head to face him.

His eyes are still glued to the road while his other hand finds purchase of your thigh, deft fingers skimming over the exposed skin, sending a tingling sensation to your core.

“Tonight was beautiful, Loki.” You smile, taking his hand in yours and lacing your fingers together. “I could never have imagined an evening as perfect as this. Thank you.”

“The quartet wasn’t too much?” He chuckles at his question and you sense the nervousness rolling through him with how his fingers tense.

Lifting his hand to your lips, you press a light kiss over his knuckles, the gesture seemingly calming him as he lets out a breath and glances at you before turning his focus once more back on the road.

You look curiously at the door when it opens on its own accord, your breath catching in your throat when a string quartet files into the private dining space, the soft sounds of violins echoing throughout the room.

“Can I have this dance?” Loki asks and you stare at him dumbly when he holds out his hand to you from across the table.

“I—I don’t know how—”

“Don’t worry.” He says with a smile, standing from his seat and taking your hand in his. “I’ll lead and you follow.” Giving your hand a gentle tug, you slip the napkin off your lap and follow him toward the open space by the side of your table. His hand slips around your waist while keeping his grip on the other. “Slow steps,” He instructs and you obey.

You keep your head to the ground, watching your feet, not wanting to step on his toes and ruin the moment. But you then feel your hand move, Loki tipping your chin up for you to face him, emerald eyes shining as he keeps them locked on yours.

“Eyes on me, darling.” He coos and you smile shyly up at him. “I’m here.”

The ivory building of his condo comes to view and you feel a small wave of nervousness wash over you.

It’s not like you haven’t been over to his place before. You’ve stayed a couple of nights when it’s too late to grab a cab and you didn’t want to burden Loki with driving you home. If anything, the place is something familiar, the living space you’re able to navigate even with your eyes closed.

But for some reason, you feel this night to be different than the previous ones. With how magical it has been, your palms begin feeling clammy as your thoughts drift to the conversation you had with Carla before leaving to meet Loki at the restaurant.

“What if we have sex and I suddenly tell him that I love him?”

“Okay—TMI.” She visibly cringes before asking, “But, do you?”

You sigh before turning back to the mirror and nodding in response.

“Then what are you afraid of?”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way?” You argue, feeling your cheeks heat up from the sudden surge of emotions. “What if I tell him that I love him and I scare him off? Or worse, he laughs at me.”

“Girl, he’s been showering you gifts left and right. He’s been hogging you for the last five months that you don’t even know where we put the pots and pans anymore.” Carla explains a matter of factly and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. “How do we know for sure that he’s not the one afraid of blurting out that he loves you? That he’s not worrying he’ll scare you away if he told you how he felt?”

“I—”

“You don’t and we will never know unless you take that leap.” She stands from your bed and walks towards you, resting your hands above hers when she wraps her arms around your waist from behind. “If he doesn’t feel the same way, I have tequila you can drown in and a knife you can use to slash his tires.”

That makes you laugh.

“But if he does, I have tequila to celebrate and a knife I can use to threaten him if he hurts you.”

You’re breathless as Loki pins you against the elevator wall, his lips devouring yours while his hand runs up the expanse of your thigh, the fabric of your dress riding up along with his movement. You gasp in his mouth when he digs his fingers into the curve of your ass, feeling your core flicker to life and your cunt slickening, dampening your panties.

“Loki—” You mumble his name and tilt your head back when he reaches from behind you, his fingers brushing along your clothed cunt and pressing down on your clit.

“You’re already so wet for me, darling.” He drones against your lips and your eyes flutter close when he captures them with his once more.

The ding of the elevator signals your arrival and you’re left panting when Loki withdraws his hold from you, a chuckle of amusement leaving his lips at the sight of you left wanting. A blush forms on your face, embarrassment looming over you that you scurry out of the elevator, leaving him to follow, to hide the shame bubbling in your chest.

“Don’t worry, darling.” His voice comes close and you stop in your tracks when you feel his arms wrap around your frame, mewling as his soft lips press down on the column of your neck. “I want you just as much as you want me.” You feel his desire against the small of your back, feeling a sense of relief that it’s not just you fueled with lust but also the man you call your own.

His door comes to view and you wait for him to enter the security code before pushing down the brass handle.

All at once, your confidence blooms anew and you grab onto Loki’s hand to pull him through the threshold. But you stop in your tracks when you see a blond man standing by the couch, a glass of bourbon clasped in his hand and a smile of mirth playing on his lips that quickly morphs into a smirk.

“Victor,” Loki calls from behind you, your shyness coming forth at the unexpected visitor. “You’re still here.”

“Yes, I wanted to wait for you to discuss some important matters.” The man—Victor—explains, taking a sip of his drink before nursing the glass against his chest. “But it seems I may have interrupted your evening.”

“Darling,” Loki’s hand rests on the small of your back, taking small and measured steps as he guides your forward to meet his guest. “This is my best friend since childhood, Victor Shade.”

“Pleasure to finally meet you,” Victor says as he extends his hand. You take it to shake but startle when he lifts it to his lips and places a gentle kiss over your knuckles. “And please, call me Vision. I’m unsure as to why Loki here insists on such formalities.” He chuckles, his thumb grazing against your fingers before releasing you and tucking his hand into his pocket.

You’ve heard of him before, from the stories Loki would tell you during dinners or on lazy Sunday mornings. His best friend, who is also his partner in the trading business he’s in, and another one of the investors that help fund underprivileged schools.

He’s taller than Loki, is what you first notice, and his blond hair is kept short and neat, tousled in a swoop. His smile is kind but his eyes look electric and darker behind the rose-tinted glasses that sit gingerly over his nose. He’s as well dressed as Loki, the navy three-piece making his shoulders look broader and his frame, bigger.

You look up when Loki holds your chin, a wide smile etched on his face. “Why don’t you head on to the bedroom, love and I’ll just finish up some business with Vision.” He suggests and you accept the kiss he places on your forehead before giving Vision a small wave goodbye yet feeling a shudder at the back of your neck when he nods in your direction, his blue eyes never leaving you which makes you scurry on down the hall and to the master bedroom.

Closing the door from behind you, you huff in relief, the sudden appearance of Vision having rattled your senses. You don’t understand why Loki never mentioned that his best friend would be here, and from the way he greeted him—“You’re still here”—and the lack of surprise in his voice, he knew beforehand that Vision was present.

He was having a fun night with you. That’s why he forgot. The little voice in your head reprimands you and that itself allows you to relax, pushing the thought of Vision in Loki’s penthouse to the back of your mind.

You hang your clutch on the back of the door and run your hands down the length of your dress while walking towards his bed, attempting to smooth out any wrinkles that must have formed in your little romp at the elevator. The corners of your lips curl upward as Loki’s scent of earl grey tea mixed with a hint of mint wafts over your nose; an aroma you found comfort in since the day you first met him.

The mattress dips from your weight as you take a seat on the edge, taking his pillow in your hands and pressing it against your chest before burying your nose against the soft cushion.

“You look like you belong here, darling.”

You turn your head to the door when Loki’s voice surrounds you, seeing him leaning against the doorframe while holding two flutes of what you think is champagne. He stalks over to you and joins you on the bed, the pillow taken from your hands and replaced by the bubbly beverage.

“I hope Vision being here didn’t ruin your evening.” He begins, lacing the fingers of your free hand with his. “I thought he’d have already left and found no need to warn you about the matter.”

“It’s okay.” You smile, tightening your hold on his hand. “I was just surprised. Is he still here though?” You ask, looking past his shoulder and to the open door.

“He’s on the phone in my study. He knows better than to bother us.” Loki grins and holds up his flute toward you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”

Love.

He called you ‘Love’ the second time around and it makes your heart jump with happiness. He’s never uttered the word before, not even once in the months you’ve been with him. But now, after hearing it again, you can’t help but think that all your fears from earlier were for naught, that Carla was right. Maybe Loki truly feels the same, that he loves you and has been wanting to hear you tell him those three precious words.

Love.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” You respond shyly and take a tentative sip of the champagne, the bubbles tickling your nose.

As soon as you finish, he takes your glass and sets them atop the bedside table along with his. He sits closer and so do you, and you feel the spark once more setting a flame to your blood that you reach out when he leans in, wrapping your arms around his neck as he captures your lips.

His kiss is soft and slow, lips exploring yours while his tongue remains at bay in his mouth. But his hands begin to wander and you let him, your own moving down to grab hold of his coat and pushing it off his shoulders, hearing the fabric fall to the floor.

You part your lips when his tongue pushes past them, moaning against his mouth as he twirls the soft muscle against your own. He tastes of champagne and sin and it makes your heart pound hard against your chest, the swell of emotion taking control of your very being that makes you decide then there that you do love this man and you would do anything to make him happy. You’d do everything to keep him.

“I love you, Loki.” You whisper when he pulls away, your eyes glistening when he stares down at you, caught off guard by your sudden confession.

He inhales deeply and you feel his hands tighten around your frame. “Oh, my darling girl.” He murmurs back and you smile against his lips when he kisses you once more, lifting you off the bed and having you straddle his lap.

You mewl in delight upon feeling his desire pressing against your cunt, your hand skimming down his solid chest and cupping the tent in his pants. He groans and you preen in success, fingers moving to massage the growing erection before expertly flicking them to unhook the lock of his pants from the latch, the sound of his zipper echoing loudly in your ears.

“Will you—” He mumbles and you give him no time to finish.

You stand from the bed and giggle when he leans back against the headboard, following suit and kneeling before him to help shimmy his trousers and boxers off his thighs.

His cock springs free and you gasp at how hard he is, the tip engorged and pink with precum already leaking from the tip. He takes hold of the base and pumps himself a couple of times before you take over with your own hand. You hear his voice shake and it's enough to urge you on, leaning over to press a kiss on his clothed chest—where his heart is hidden underneath—before leaning down to lay a kiss on his tip.

Your lips part when you feel his hand rest on your head, a silent command for you to take him. And you do, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking on it slowly, feeling Loki shudder from the deed.

Inch by inch, you take him deeper into your mouth, gagging when the tip grazes the back of your throat. But you don’t relent, pulling back to trace the vein on the side of his cock with the tip of your tongue before taking him in once more and setting your pace as you suck on him hard.

Each moan and groan that escape his lips you take as a sign to go further, to take more and more of him and quicken the momentum you’ve set. You take the base of his length and give it slow and languid strokes, your lips kissing the edge of your fingers as they move in sync yet contrast with each other.

His fingers weave through your locks and you moan when he tightens his hold on them, pushing your head down on his shaft so that you move your hand away and grab tightly on his thigh when you begin gagging once more at his size.

Your pussy clenches on nothing as lewd noises continue dripping from his lips, feeling your walls slicken and soak through the lacey fabric that suddenly feels too constricting as heat crawls up your skin.

You feel him grab onto the hem of your dress, pulling the fabric and bunching them to your waist. You pull away from his cock and gasp when he gives your ass a sharp slap before grazing his fingers over your clothed cunt. He pushes the flimsy, soaked fabric to the side and moaning against his cock when he rolls his digit against your swollen bud.

“She’s ready.” Loki intones and you blink in curiosity at his words.

“Wha—”

You’re instantly filled with panic when another pair of hands grab hold of your hips. You push yourself up and look over your shoulder, your eyes widening in shock to see Vision standing at the foot of the bed, his fingers digging into your flesh and pulling you closer to him.

You try to get off, pushing away from Loki but he restrains your wrists with his tight grip, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he looks down at you.

“Loki—what’s going on?” Your lips tremble as you ask, grunting as you try to pry your hands from his hold. “Why is he here?”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.” Vision says from behind you, your body shaking and tears falling from your eyes when you feel his hot breath fan over your cunt, a kiss being laid over the expanse of your ass. “I’m just checking the goods. A little…quality control if you will.”

The chuckle that he emits makes your heart constrict and you face Loki once more, eyes pleading that he saves you from this monstrosity. But his eyes are blown wide, and you see no remorse, no compassion in them, only lust and it shakes your very core and shatters your heart that everything you believed him to be, the sweet and kind gentleman you fell in love with, was all a lie.

Your body jolts and you clench your fingers into fists when Vision laps his tongue against your cunt. You try to kick your legs, to stop him from his malicious act but his hands grip your ankles, spreading your legs wide in the process. You’re left helpless on the bed, splayed open for him to take while Loki keeps his hands on you, making sure you don’t escape.

“Be a good girl and suck my cock, darling.” Loki intones, hiding your face from him as your tears continue to roll down your face. “We can’t let Vision have all the fun.”

“No!” You shout and pull your hands and knees inward, struggling against them to set yourself free. “Let me go!” But you let out a yelp when a harsh slap lands on your ass.

“Don’t be a fucking brat and do as he says!” Vision berates, going still as fear runs up your spine with the intensity of his voice.

“Please—” You beg, shaking your head as you look into Loki’s eyes once more. “Please, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone—I swear.”

You wince when your hair is grabbed from behind, Vision’s clothed chest pressing down on your back and you feel his hot breath fanning over your cheek. “You don’t get to make that choice, sweetheart. So you either be a good girl and listen or I won’t be kind and break you myself.”

“Now, now, Vis. Let’s not be brash about this.” Loki tuts, feeling his hand caress your cheek and Vision releasing his grip on your tresses. “She’s a good girl, right?” He says while looking down at you, fingers pinching your chin with his thumb grazing over your lower lip.

You nod in reluctance.

“Now, do what Vision says and we’ll be gentle with you.” He smirks and leans down to nuzzle his nose against yours before pressing a light kiss over your lips. “Between the two of us, he’s the nice one.”

You swallow thickly at the revelation. If Vision is the nice one and he’s already angry with your defiance, you don’t want to know what Loki would be like if you pushed him over the edge. And the thought itself scares you for you’ve never seen him angry, even once. You don’t want to see him angry. The small voice in your head whispers and your tears flow anew as you take Loki in your hand and part your lips to push him into your mouth.

Vision pulls back, his hands once more framing your hips, and you whimper when you feel the tip of his cock press against your clit. He teases you, rubbing his length over your folds with the tip of his thumb grazing over your cunt. You stop your head from bobbing and pull away from Loki’s cock when you gasp as Vision pushes himself in, your walls squeezing him tightly from his intrusion, your back arching at the size of his cock, feeling him stretch you wide.

“Oh, shit—!” He curses into the air. “She’s fucking tight.”

“Told you,” Loki responds, pushing your head back to his length. “No matter how much I fuck her, she always squeezes me good.”

His words make your chest clench in pain—the realization that he never cared for you and was playing with you all along, stringing you around like some puppet all for whatever purpose he and his friend have—and disgust, that he sounds delighted to share you with another.

Vision starts a slow rhythm, his cock rubbing against your aching walls with languid strokes. But such reprieve quickly fades as he begins to thrust at a faster pace, rough hands holding onto your hips tight, keeping you grounded on the bed, allowing him fuck you faster and harder.

You groan when Loki moves to stand on his knees, his hands framing your face as he, too, fucks your mouth relentlessly, your nose flaring as you try desperately to breathe. Your jaw aches and your throat burns in pain as his tip hits the back of it repeatedly. You keep your mouth wide open, tears mixing with the saliva that drips down your chin.

They groan in sync, abusing you with their strength, their thrusts brutal and their touch unloving with how they grab on you—Vision’s hand curling over your thigh and rubbing his finger against your clit that makes your knees ache, fueling your arousal which you forcefully keep at bay—and Loki, grabbing a fistful of your hair before burying his cock deep, your hand, finally free from his grasp, slapping against his thigh for him to pull back.

You can’t believe this is happening, how these men were able to force themselves on you. How you allowed yourself to fall for Loki’s lies which eventually brought you here and it makes you cry further that it’s all because you allowed yourself to love.

You feel them throb inside of you, your pussy clamping down on Vision’s cock as you feel yourself edging closer to your peak. Loki groans, garbled moans spewing out of his lips and you shut your eyes tight when the salty essence of his come spreads throughout your tongue.

He pants, his body seeming limp from his orgasm but his hold on your hair doesn’t falter, keeping his cock lodged in your mouth as he continues to spurt out his seeds. “Swallow.” He commands with a shaky breath and you moan your disapproval. But his hand wraps around your throat, thumb, and forefinger massaging and pinching the sides, leaving you no choice but to do as he demands.

Loki pulls out and you gasp lungfuls of air, thankful for the respite you’re given. But Vision pushes on and your face is pushed on Loki’s thigh, moaning incoherently as he snaps his hips at a frantic pace.

“Come for me, sweetheart.” He growls, your hands pushing hard against the bed as he pulls you back to meet his thrusts.

You gasp once more, the breath knocked out of your chest when he hits that sacred spot from within. He pinches your clit and your walls tighten further around him, a slew of moans escaping your lips when the dam within you finally breaks and you cry as your orgasm consumes you, your chest dropping down on the bed while your legs shake from the intensity of your release.

You’re left hollow when Vision pulls out all of a sudden, his grunts bouncing off the walls and filling your ears. You then feel something warm splash and trickle down the back of your thigh then the tip of Vision’s cock poking against it before smearing all over your skin. A whine spills from your lips when he fills you once more, thrusting into you slowly before stilling yet keeping himself nestled within your cunt.

“She’s perfect.” Vision breathes and you sniff as you cry again, whimpering when you feel his lips press against your lower back and then trail up the length of your spine. “That attitude needs work though but nothing we can’t fix.” He chuckles darkly and your knees finally collapse on the bed when he pulls out once again.

You hear the rustle of clothing and a zipper setting in place. Vision’s shadow looms at your periphery and you pull your head away when he kisses your temple.

“We have a meeting with Stark in 2 weeks and we have to make sure she’s ready by then.”

“Don’t worry, Vis.” Loki laughs and you turn to hide your face when he runs his fingers through your hair. “She loves me and she’ll do anything for me. Isn’t that right, darling?”

You yelp when he pulls on your hair, turning your head to make you face him, green eyes laced with darkness as he keeps them on you. You want to say no, to fight back and tell him you don’t want to be part of their sick plan, but the tick in his jaw scares you, seeing the anger brewing within and waiting to be released.

So you nod, lifting your hand to wipe the tears from your eyes, and take a deep breath.

“Yes.” You acquiesce, lips quivering in fear as you speak. “I’ll do anything for you.”

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