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#thor volume one
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So this is surprising, but I just discovered Singularity actually has a Marvel Legends figure!
The characters they selected for this pack are extremely odd though. Nico and Carol (not to mention Dazzler and Medusa) are key figures in all the A-Force stories and they are noticiably absent here while two characters who never or only briefly appeared in the comics at all (Sif and Monica) are included?! Weird.
But that Blue fig is gorgeous 🤩 and unobtainable 💸
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my phones camera is broken so i cant show it but i now have the very sexy massive collection of books of magic
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trickstar5654 · 1 year
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Rewatched Thor 1 the other day and man. Does anyone else ever think about how Thor used to act before he got banished to Earth because Jesus Christ
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lokisgoodgirl · 4 months
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Comfort & Joy: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]
The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (9) Roll up, roll up for the Stark Christmas Jamboree. Where candied nuts and cunning plans both come with an extra sprinkling of festive sweetness. (w/c 7.8k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Usual Lakes fare. Humour, Asgardian lore, fluff, all the feels. Smut references. A/N: This is the final final edition of The Lakes.
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“Remind me, what named day is this in your charming yuletide festivities?” Loki inquired as you stepped out the revolving door of the Tower.
Charming. You smiled.
Last year it would have been any number of synonyms for stupid. You could hear them, see his lips curling the words from memory. Gratuitous. Senseless. Superfluent. Foolish.
But that was your problem, you recognised, not his.
“I don’t think it has one officially,” you shivered, nestling your chin deeper into the scarf. Fuck, it was cold today. “But I call it Christmas Eve, Eve.”
You sighed, watching crowds of the general populous making their way in shuffling merriment towards the Christmas market. No, not market. Festive Jamboree.
Tony had taken it upon himself to create a mini-wonderland right outside the Tower for one day only, all proceeds to the local children’s hospital.
A ferris wheel rose at the end of the cordoned street, every carriage packed. The smell of hot-dogs and caramelised almonds filled the air, old-time speakers tied to high lamps blaring Andy Williams at a volume that couldn’t be code compliant. “Lighten up, darling” Loki chirped as a gloved hand laced with your own. You turned to him, forcing a smile through the nerves. He looked phenomenal. A high collared coat of darkest green framed his cheekbones, pink tipped in the sudden chill. The one you’d seen in the window. You couldn’t resist. But when it came to Loki, what else was new?
He’d popped the collar, loose strands of onyx hair tumbling over the thick of his scarf. The one you’d bought him, of course.
Against the pale of his skin, dark brows peaked above a lowered fan of lashes while his gaze lingered on your intertwined digits. He raised the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it firmly.
“This will be fun,” he murmured against your glove with a knowing glint. “Have you planned...something?” you laughed. “Other than the thing.”
The nerves were fading, finally. He pressed his free hand against his chest in mock-hurt. “You wound me with your suspicions, madam” he purred, playful insolence thick in his tone. He sniffed, raising his chin. “I am merely imbibed with the spirit of the season.” Mid-giggle, your whole body rocked forwards as two hands shook your shoulders from behind. “Merry Christmas Eve Eve, sister!” Thor boomed in your ear. There was ringing. Thor looked good. He smelled good. And blessedly for now at least, there were no crumbs in his beard. “And to you, brother” Loki said, smile widening.
Thor tilted his head, regarding Loki’s jovial demeanour with suspicion. “And to you, brother-” he rumbled. His interest was piqued. “What has my Sponge of a sibling in such a buoyant mood this fine December day?” “It’s Scrooge,” you corrected, grinning. Thor grinned back as all eyes fell on your lover.
Loki gaped, darting his gaze between you both.
“Scrooge?!” he scoffed incredulously. “In past years, perhaps. Yet despite your attempt to churl me, I shall take it as a compliment,” Loki said, squeezing your hand, “for I too was visited by three spirits and thus...changed forever.” Thor frowned, “spirits, says you?” “Yes, brother. Yourself, Rogers, and the spectre of that ghastly reclining chair.”
Thor chuckled, before being distracted by something deeper within the crowd. Or someone. He cleared his throat. “I must to the candied nuts, brother” he muttered formally.
Out the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers tip the nuts-vendor a quick salute as he nestled a fresh bag in his hand like a hamster. Heat steamed from the opening, wafting through frosty air. “Oh yes brother,” Loki drawled with equal gravitas. “The nuts will not eat themselves.” Thor squinted as a restrained smirk danced at Loki’s dimples. “Indeed,” the blonde replied, clearing his throat. “I shall see you at the bandstand anon.” And with a curt nod to you, he waddled hands in his pockets through the throng. You watched him go as Loki’s warm breath seeped down your neck, his mouth fastening to your pulse-point with a happy hum of pleasure. “You’re naughty,” you chided playfully. Loki nodded against your neck, the vibration of his agreement making you fizz. “And I have the knitwear to prove it,” he whispered. As you made your way through the crowd, Loki’s hand never left yours.
The two of you together were a familiar sight in Manhattan, and Avenger-fans on the whole had been beside themselves at news of your reunion. Confirmations had been slow. At you and Loki’s insistence, there had been no official statement. But the public had cottoned on eventually, with the help of the press.
Fans waited politely for pictures, nervously pulling at gloves and activating their cameras while you and Loki smiled and chatted. It was night and day from the way things used to be, while you stood on the sidelines amid a sea of bodies whipped into a frenzy by the god of mischief’s theatrical adulation.
Every so often, Loki would nuzzle your cheek; checking in. You’d squeeze his hand. One for all good, two for let’s go. You didn’t need that second squeeze today.
“With regret, we must depart for the afternoon’s questionable entertainment,” Loki announced. There was a chorus of disappointment, but he patted down the air.
“Please, join us-” he smiled to the crowd gathered around you, extending an arm towards the bandstand not thirty meters away. “Your participation will be most appreciated to drown out the subpar efforts of all of us. Truly, you will never look at us the same way, I guarantee it.” Despite having been erected overnight, the bandstand in the centre of the wonderland wouldn’t look out of place in Victorian England. Thin wrought iron pillars stretched upwards, twisting to an ornate canopy adorned with Christmas lights. Garlands wound up the pillars, twinkling sporadically. It was only 3pm, but the gathering darkness made them shine. A modest band of brass and strings had gathered beneath the canopy, instrument tune-ups peppering the chilly air.
And in front of it, in a semi-circle, microphones.
Steve stood to the side, handing booklets to a line of anxious looking avengers. Bucky, Wanda, Sam, Natas-
“I cannot believe we have to do this,” Bucky muttered ruefully as he threw his coat in the assigned box. “I can’t believe it. I actually can’t? Someone, fight me. Knock me out.” “We’re all in the same boat, Buck” Natasha lamented. She pulled at the baggy jumper hanging around her hips. Bucky looked down at his chest, pleading eyes meeting her stoic stare. “Fight me, Romanoff. Please.” “Don’t tempt me,” Natasha replied. Their jumpers were matching. Red, thick wool hiding any hint of the lithe muscle beneath. And stitched on them in winding, white-knitted lettering? Nice.
Your chest shook with the effort of holding in giggles. Even knowing what was coming, it hadn’t prepared you for the reality.
Looking around, you clocked each of your teammates in turn. Stark’s logic was thus – Avengers with a ‘harder’ reputation? Nice jumpers. And for those reputed to be on the softer side?-
“You’re wearing the wrong gosh-darn sweater, Laufeyson!” Steve hissed over your shoulder.
Both of you spun to face him. Steve’s arms were folded over the green version of the standard knit, the word Naughty emblazoned on his chest in white bobbling letters. Your shoulders were shaking now, too. “Don’t act like you're surprised, Rogers” Loki drawled. His coat hung off one long finger, before disappearing in a flash of seidr. “The public will not be fooled by Stark’s futile attempt at psychological subterfuge. I am simply getting ahead of the inevitable Tumblr edits.”
Steve’s chin snapped towards you. “Did you know about this?” he piped, flustered. You raised your eyebrows guiltily, making Steve’s hands fly in the air. “Perfect. Just heckin’ perfect. Why I outta-” “What seems to be the problem?” Thor’s voice boomed from behind. The words were accompanied by crunching, flecks of almond littering his green jumper like snow. You and Loki parted, making a four-square shoulder to shoulder and shuffling further towards safety from prying ears. “Laufeyson’s taken it upon himself to go against the agreed sweater-allocation and wear a Naughty, that’s what-” Steve bubbled bitterly.
Crimson had begun to creep up his cheekbones. A vein in his neck throbbed. Thor threw his head back with an almighty roar of laughter. Several almonds bounced from the bag in his hand from the force.
“Come now, Rogers ” he managed through gasps of mirth. “What did you expect? Tis just a silly rule, who cares?” He tossed an almond in the air, attempting to catch it in his mouth. It ricocheted off his eye. As Thor began blinking, Steve raised the clipboard in his hand. He tapped it violently. “I’m in charge of project managing this,” he hissed. “Laufeyson – change back to Nice.”
“Shan’t.” Loki quipped. Steve flushed deeper. “Laufeyson,” he warned. “Actually,” Loki started, enjoying the hushed tension. “I think you’ll find I am rather nice. You saw to that. So in truth, my sweater is fitting for this farce.” Steve’s eye began to twitch.
There was silence.
“Look at us, we’re like a little team," you offered, pointing to each of your green jumpers in turn. “Like the old days.”
Thor chuckled agreement as Loki and Steve stared each other down, a smile playing on Loki’s mouth that was irrevocably absent from the Captain’s. All four of you, it seemed, wore the Naughty uniform today. “In your case, as in mine, our knitwear reflects our essence perfectly my darling” Loki purred to you while his eyes narrowed towards a now vibrating super-soldier. “My naughty...naughty girl.” Steve sighed, hanging his head in resignation. “I told Tony this was a pooper of an idea,” he lamented. “It’s a disaster and it’s not even started.”
Thor’s hand clapped the captain’s shoulder in sympathy, lingering in a squeeze. Steve looked up at him, their eyes meeting.
The blonde god’s gaze widened slightly. You saw his fingers clench as his hand froze. In moments, he raised it; fluffing back his hair before sliding the hand into the pocket of his jeans.
“It’s only one sweater, Rogers” he muttered nervously. “Who cares?” Steve’s face fell, eyes darting to Thor’s crotch with a frown before rising back to his face. “I expected better of you, Odinson” was all he said before turning away.
Loki let out an exasperated sigh, elbowing his brother in the ribs. But Thor didn’t even flinch. His features had crumpled, spinning slowly as he watched the captain leave. His nuts? Forgotten.
But Steve didn’t see it. He was already making his way to the cluster of anxious looking Avengers huddled by the bandstand, examining carol music like they were Hydra files. “That could have gone better,” you whispered to Loki. The god frowned. His attempt to provoke his brother into siding with Rogers had not borne fruit. “Fear not,” Loki replied mysteriously as Thor produced a chicken drumstick from his jeans pocket. He tore off a chunk with a thousand-yard stare. Loki watched him in disbelief, continuing slowly. “There is still time to salvage this operation from the wreckage of my brother’s obstinance.” You gaze flitted between your team-mates. Bucky – Nice. Natasha- Nice. Clint – Naughty. Bruce – Naughty. Wanda – Nice. Sam – Naughty. Scott – Nice. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Loki swipe the half-ravaged chicken drumstick from Thor’s hold with hushed reprimand.
“What’s the big man wearing, I wonder?” you asked no one in particular. Loki snorted, “what else?” he said, nudging his head towards the Santa podium. There he was, Father Christmas aka. Tony Stark. Dressed in ray-bans and custom tailored suit, he looked suspiciously trim for a man in his position.
“Ah,” you smiled.
Loki’s smokey cologne filled your nostrils as he looped his arms around your body, pulling you tight to his chest. “It seems he will not be joining us in this public embarrassment,” he smirked before placing a warming kiss on your lips. Then to the corner of your mouth, then to the angle of your jaw. “Places!” a peaky-sounding Steve shouted, tapping a baton against the music stand at the head of the choir section. There was a deep line between his eyebrows that was decidedly un-Christmassy. “Norns,” Loki muttered. His hands slid down your body, fingers weaving through yours. “Ready?” he breathed nervously, your foreheads touching.
“Are you?” you replied.
Loki squeezed once.
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The front row of the audience was made up of children, patients of the hospital. Cushioned folding chairs were laid in a half-crescent, two dozen of their smiling faces staring expectantly. Several of them sat in wheelchairs in the middle. Prime spot. One of them was wearing a pin-badge with Loki’s face on it. A young connoisseur, you thought with a smile.
Behind them, the growing crowd heaved. Sparkling Stark-Industries antlers filled your field of vision, handed out at the gates. There was a static hum, hundred of conversations and jokes and countless eyes inspecting each of you with anticipation. You could feel their excitement fizzing in the air while Bucky fidgeted beside you. Thinking about his solo you had no doubt. You rubbed his back sympathetically. He offered a weak smile of thanks. Steve tapped the pedestal again. “Avengers,” he announced with authority. The hushed whispers and small waves of the team to the crowd came to a halt. “One..two..” he mouthed the three.
All of a sudden, the air came alive with the sound of ten voices, stronger and louder and more melodic than you had expected. Unbelievably, it sounded...good. Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,
The brass quintet upon the bandstand soared. Even in practice, it hadn’t been this good. A Christmas miracle, you thought as you belted out the words in some semblance of tune.
Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconcile, Your gaze flickered to the other side of the semi-circle, catching Loki’s.
He held his carol-sheet diligently at arms-length, not looking at it. But rather, at you.
He winked.
Steve had rightly separated you. The chances of him squeezing your ass in front of the sick children was just too high. What if one of them goes into shock, Steve had said. But in truth, it was the deep, soulful magnetism of Loki’s singing voice that posed the real risk. If you were standing beside him, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain yourself. You winked back. Beside Loki, Thor craned towards the paper his brother held.
Thor had memorised every carol. Every modern classic. Everything in the repertoire. You knew that for a fact.
For the last two weeks, ever since your conversation in the common room – you’d been able to hear him before you could see him. And not in the usual way. You’d become accustomed to hearing his theatrical rendition of Silent Night bouncing its ironic way around the tile of the gym, the hallways, seeping through floors. And what he lacked in vocal melody, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.
No - in truth, as the God of Thunder stared at the music sheet, he was avoiding Steve’s appraising stare which darted to each of them in turn. Joyful, all ye nations rise, Join the triumph of the skies,
Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from your boyfriend, you focused back on the conductor. The crimson flush of his ears had ebbed. He was beginning to smile. Well, a little.
Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,
The carol continued. And then the next, and the next. Collection buckets that were being passed amongst the crowd began to overflow, the spectators indulging in a mix of swaying, singing, dancing.
With every song that passed, Bucky became more nervous, his voice a little higher.
You only faltered once during Winter Wonderland when you made the mistake of looking at Loki again. At some point, he had raked his hair back. Pink peaked at his cheekbones, his hip slouched casually, tapping his foot in time. One side of his sweater was concealed in the waistband of his dark chinos. A french-tuck, if you weren’t mistaken. It highlighted the sluttish creases that strained at his crotch.
Dark curls fell around the green knit, half-lidded eyes following each word as he sang it. You would fuck that sweater right off him later. Or maybe, he could keep it on...you mused. His smooth baritone slid over the words like a sled in morning’s first snow, to face unafraid, the plans that we made, walking in a- He looked up with a knowing side-smile in your direction. A sharp elbow in the ribs from Wanda made you realised you had lost your train of thought. Your mouth was open, but no words were coming out. “-winter wonderlaaaand,” you squawked out of time.
Steve’s eyes snapped to you, brow arched. He couldn’t complain, not really. Considering how well it was going. A brief erotically-charged moment of disassociation was the least he could expect, surely. As the song drew to a close with a flourish of conductor Rogers’ arms, the crowd burst into applause. With every passing number, it had become louder. You weren’t sure if there were more people, or if the mulled wine had been refilled. Steve spun to face the audience, growing darkness making the warm glow from fairylights create a halo around his blonde hair.
“And now...a very special treat,” he announced mysteriously to the expectant crowd. “Something very, very special indeed. I’ve heard it in rehearsal and golly, he’s just spiff.” Bucky’s feet began scuffing on the ground. He’s going to do a runner, you thought. But thankfully for Bucky, he had nothing to worry about.
The plan was for Barnes to perform a rousing rendition of Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Olivia Holt. Or Michael Buble, depending on the demographic. Backed up by the jingling ooo’s and aaa’s of the team of course. But despite Barnes initial enthusiasm, the thought of it had filled him with more horror each passing day.
Steve had been very excited about the whole affair. A grand finale for his orchestral debut, such as it was. And Bucky hadn’t the heart to tell him. “Buck?” you muttered out the corner of your mouth. You glanced at him, trying to be covert. He was sweating, staring blankly ahead. “Buck?” “Yuh.” Barnes mustered quietly as Steve began to move a microphone between the sick kids. Their little voices made your heart flutter. But you had a job to do. The weight of Loki’s concentration radiated from across the space between you. He was watching you and Bucky, completely still aside from one twitching finger and the small smile flickering at his dimples. You cleared your throat, leaning to the side towards the soldier. “In a few seconds you might feel a bit funny-” “I already feel a bit funny doll,” he murmured bitterly. “Yeah but...well, you’ll see. Just don’t freak out.” “Freak-what-now?” “Out-” “-Yah I got that-” he snapped, trying to turn towards you and failing. He tried to twist, but his shoulders wouldn’t budge. “What the-?” “Buck?” you repeated slowly. He met your eyes, the first shadows of fear creeping in. “When Steve calls you up, just shake your head. You have a little bit of movement in your neck. And you can talk a little. Just a little so I can check you’re okay. Okay?” Bucky raised his eyebrows in a grimacing caricature. You decided to assume that meant it was totally cool. “Who are hoo hurkin’ hor!?” he hissed in a wreckage of lisping syllables. His shoulders shook ever so slightly back and forth like a wound-up nutcracker as he tried and failed to move his feet. “Oh, no-” you said, realising he thought you’d been turned. “No, it’s just Loki’s magic. Don’t worry.” Bucky’s eyes widened.
‘Please welcome-’
“You’re off the hook with the song?” you chirped quietly, hoping it had the intended effect. Barnes stopped struggling. ‘-my friend, James Buchanan Barnes!’ A round of deafening applause snapped you from your bubble. Steve stood back at his podium, baton poised and ready for the band to begin.
Alongside the other Avengers, except Bucky, you bent down and picked up a sleigh bell carefully placed at your feet. You could beat someone to death with this thing, you thought as the chrome bells jingled beneath your hand. Wanda shot you a knowing glance, holding in a laugh.
The applause ebbed as James Buchanan Barnes remained rooted to the spot. His eyes darted side to side across the waiting crowd. He shook his head very, very slowly. Showtime, you thought. “I’m afraid he has a bit of stage-fright,” you explained loudly. Collective disappointment hummed in the air. Steve’s face flushed an immediate shade of fuchsia, features hardening. You could see the cogs in his brain turn, a victorious glittering finale slipping from his grasp. His lips puckered, sucking in his cheeks. “I’m sure with a little...encouragement,” Steve said with a grimacing smile, raising his arms. The crowd roared back to life.
Bucky shook his head, a bit faster this time. Rogers head lowered, the breath from his sigh of exasperation clouding around his face. “If I may...” came Loki’s calm drawl from across the line-up. It dripped with sensual showmanship, treacleish tones sending an immediate flood of desire leaking into your panties.
Men and women in the front rows grasped at each other, gawking as if suddenly seeing him for the first time. It doesn’t get any easier folks, you thought with a smile. “My brother here knows the arrangement by heart,” Loki continued. “The lyrics and suchlike- I’m sure he would be happy to relieve Barnes of his duties-”
Mutters of excitement spread through the crowd like a mexican wave. Thor immediately turned his back to the audience, muttering something at surprisingly hushed volume in his brother’s ear. Loki listened diligently, holding up a penitent finger to the crowd. Steve’s arms were folded, storm-clouds knitting his brow. The foot had begun to tap. “My brother makes the valid point that of the two of us, I am the more musically inclined-” Loki began, gracefully gripping Thor’s shoulders and spinning him back to face the audience.
He brushed his brother’s collar, removing the last of the almond crumbs which resided there. A smile you knew all too well stretched across Loki’s lips as he looked deep into Thor’s eyes, willing him to understand. “But alas,” Loki purred, “I know not the words.” And perhaps these words will heal, Loki thought.
Loki held his breath as Thor began to gingerly shuffle forwards, tugging at the hem of his Naughty- emblazoned jumper. If father could see us now, Loki mused with a shiver as his brother gripped the microphone.
The crowd was beginning to stomp in appreciation, driven into a frenzy by the turn of events. Thor gave a small wave, bashful smile growing wider as people began to whistle. Loki turned his attention to Rogers, standing stiff and poised with baton in the air. He gave it a singular flourish, counting down from three. The crowd fell silent.
Loki saw the moment that Steve and Thor’s eyes met. It seemed to make every fairy bulb glow a little brighter in the darkness, sparks of hope spreading like embers from a fire, fluttering upwards in a night sky. Please brother, Loki pleaded silently as he raised his sleigh bell. Don’t arse this up. He suddenly wondered if Thor had felt this way during their time at the cottage. Loki supposed that he had. The brass band sprang to life, drums making an entrance. (Christmaaaas) Loki sang suddenly with the others. Nine voices harmonised as one.
Thor panicked, pulling the microphone to his mouth. “Snow is...coming down...uh-oof-” he spluttered, the cable tangling around his shoe. (Christmaaaaas) they sang, cringing slightly.
One line in, and Loki had almost lost all hope. “I'm watching it faaaaall” Thor crooned in bass – a little more tunefully. (Christmaaaas) “Lots of...very lovely and festive, yes – you...people aro-hounnnd,” (Christmaaaas) Loki sang, a smile beginning to spread as his brother came alive. He was pointing at the children, giggles and squeals peppering the air. The sleigh bell beat against his palm in time with his brother’s voice. “Baby, please come ho-hommmme,” Thor sang. Loki looked up, catching a look on your face that he hadn’t seen before. There was something different in that look. Some deeper variable of your smile that ignited his heart. But there would be time for overthinking it later, he surmised as his brother launched into the chorus with a glottal barrage of enthusiasm. For now, he had a love to nurture.
As Loki released his practised backing harmonies with the rest of the team, his brother got into his stride. ‘Owned the stage,’ Loki believed was the term. Steve didn’t take his eyes off Thor for the whole number. And if Loki didn’t know better, which of course – he did, he would swear that the captain was blushing.
(Please) they sang, sleigh bells jangling in time. “Pleaseee” echoed his brother. (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please Baby, please come hommmme-” You were surprised the operatic efforts of Loki’s brother didn’t make the ground shake.
The crowd were beside themselves, singing and jiving and waving their hands in the air. Thor worked the big crescendo, falling to his knees on the ground. His thighs spread, and whether it was his intention or not, you saw Steve grip the podium as his sensibilities buckled. Just a bit. The captain’s lips rolled together, stifling what you were sure was a bite. Thank god Thor wore the tight jeans today, you mused as you held the final note. With a swiping flourish of the conductor’s baton, the song was over. The cheers were deafening.
Thor stood and gave a small bow, sudden bashfulness descending. He waved, backing off to the side. His eyes met Steve’s, giving him an understated nod. The captain returned it slowly, a look in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. You watched him mouth two words, thank you, before Thor collided into Loki.
There was only one more song to go. You watched as Loki patted his brother’s shoulder across the semi-circle, pulling him into a hug. His face was alight with pride. It melted your heart. Despite the passing of the months, you couldn’t get over how different his smiles were now. Open. Genuine. Real. He’s finally opened his heart.
Have you? The thought came intrusively. Fairy lights shone all around as Loki tussled his brother’s hair. Thor couldn’t stop smiling. And neither could Steve, you noticed. One more song. Rogers tapped the podium for the final time, raising the baton. The mellow sound of the saxophone twisted in the air, followed by strings.
“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas Just like the ones I used to know” you sang. Loki’s eyes met yours, sparkling with the glitter of mischief well done. “Where the treetops glisten, And children listen, To hear sleigh bells in the snow,”
Bucky’s voice began to grow louder beside you. Released from his bodily prison at last. On cue, the Avengers began to peel away from the semi-circle, mingling with the crowd. Of course, any production orchestrated by Steve Rogers would end in a collective heart-melting communal singalong. Nothing else would do.
You watched as Wanda cosied up to a older man holding a mulled wine. He offered it to her immediately, stunned as he mouthed the words to White Christmas. She took it.
For your part, you made a beeline for the children sitting at the front of the audience, joining them in their sway. This whole thing was for them, after all. Loki’s shadow crept behind you, falling over the little girl with his face emblazoned on the pin badge.
“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write” Loki purred melodically as he lowered to his haunches. He paused, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. You watched her face, transfixed in joy as all her daydreams came true. The God of Mischief in person, his shadowed blue eyes looking into hers as though she was the only person in the world. That never gets old, either, you thought. He took her hand, pressing her tiny palm against his own. “May your days,” he sang with the crowd as his fingertips glowed green, “be merry and bright-” You couldn’t tear yourself from the look of absolute sincerity on his face. The utter determination painted on softened features to give this sweet girl a memory that would last for the rest of her life – however long that was.
Tears began to prick your eyes, seeing the crane of her neck upwards as her mouth fell open in wonder to the sky. Loki smiled. The green shimmer of his palm pressed to hers grew stronger. A glow flashed across the inky night, a billowing flourish of northern lights erupting over central Manhattan seeped in emerald and pinkish hues. They twisted in waves, swirling like a cloak which moved and rolled. It was alive. Loki's voice was quieter now, but no less beautiful as he sang. “And may all your Christmases, be-” “white,” the little girl gasped as snow began to fall. He did that, you thought in wonder as the crowd began to cheer, hugging each other. All sets of eyes were turned upwards to the sky. All but yours. They stayed fixed on Loki as the band played on amidst a flutter of newly swirling snowflakes. The man I love.
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“The tie, brother-” Thor muttered nervously, “is it..?” “It is well done, brother” Loki replied.
He dusted the lapel of Thor’s crushed velvet suit jacket a final time, a deep red the shade of fine merlot. The blonde released a trembling sigh, pulling at his fingers.
It was Christmas Eve. “Did you take the pharmaceuticals as instructed?” Loki enquired quietly as the elevator bounced to a halt. Thor nodded, patting his breast pocket. “The Tums? Yes. I have some on my person should the gaseous beast rear in my belly.” Loki nodded, satisfied. All the bases were covered. He had done all he could do. Now, it was up to Thor. Well, almost. It had been Loki’s idea for the brothers to dress together for the party tonight. And although his initial plan was to ensure that Thor was in peak condition for this eve of great import, Loki would admit that he had enjoyed it. Very much.
He wore a suit matching his brother’s in all but one detail. Loki’s was a crushed velvet of richest emerald green. Thin silk ties of gold adorned them both, fastened tight to the white shirts beneath with a pin bearing their respective emblems. Loki’s gift to his brother. The Asgardian Princes were showing up, tonight. Loki had made sure of it. Mother would be proud, he smiled as the elevator doors opened. Thor’s Yuletide offering to him had been a gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory, but Loki paid it no mind. Gifts had never been his brother's strong-suit.
The rest of the team was already gathered by the Christmas tree, festive beverages in hand. A rolling cheer of greeting sounded as the duo strode towards the scene. Loki grabbed two glasses from the bar, passing one to his brother who necked it immediately. The dark god swirled his finger, refilling it. Loki felt his brows rise as he saw you, standing with one finger curled over your lip and an entirely too sensual smirk on your beautiful face. Beneath the perfectly cut trousers of his suit, Loki’s cock twitched. “You look handsome,” you coaxed quietly as he slid an arm around your waist, releasing a breath he’d been holding as a charged grunt of need.
“If we had gotten ready for tonight together,” Loki growled hot in your ear, “I fear that dress would never have been seen by another intact.” He pressed himself to you with a lingering kiss, an appreciative thrust of his hips rubbing against your own. He sighed into your open mouth, feeling your fingers dig into his shoulders. “God,” Natasha muttered with playful scorn under her breath, shuffling over to give you both space. “Can’t take them anywhere,” she murmured to Sam. Sam grunted in agreement.
“Presents!” Tony cried, clapping his hands together. “Party starts at eight, tick tock. Cutting it fine thanks to Paris and Nicole here.” He nodded in Loki and Thor’s direction. Steve checked his watch. “One cannot rush perfection, Stark” Loki smirked, releasing you. He watched as Rogers turned and adjusted a decoration on the tree. A plush rabbit wearing a santa hat. He was nervous. Tony knelt down, reading each gift tag and throwing it to the corresponding team-member. An oblong package whizzed past Loki's face, hitting his brother square in the mouth. 'Ooft,' Thor grunted as mulled wine slopped over the side of the glass. He stumbled, catching the present. Loki sighed, flexing his fingers and removing the stain from the front of his sibling’s suit. His brother nestled the empty glass dangerously within the tree branches to his side, inspecting the package. “Tis soft,” he muttered seriously. Across the circle, Loki saw Steve’s anxious gaze darting upwards at his brother in intervals. He noted you offer the captain a comforting nod while Thor tore at immaculate wrapping, ripping off the red ribbon and casting it aside. “Odin’s beard…” Thor gasped as the final sliver of paper fell away.
The team fell silent, looking up from their various body massagers and associated tat. He raised the item in his hands like Simba, slack-jawed in awe. The amazed god stared at it, eyes glossy.
Bruce frowned towards the blonde, peering over his glasses with an oversized posing pouch dangling from one finger. “Is that-?” “-A chicken drumstick?” Nat gawked. “Tis’ soft…!” Thor breathed in wonder, twirling it in his hands. He clutched it to his chest, eyes darting around the group. “A thousand thanks upon whomever bestowed this plush poultry treasure upon me,” he murmured, unable to resist holding the cushion proudly at arms length.
“Truly whomever be my secretive santa knows me to my core-” he continued dreamily, looking to each avenger in turn. They all looked befuddled. All except one. Thor’s brow creased, doing a double take as Steve’s cheeks plunged to new depths of crimson. “Rogers?” the blonde god whispered, so low only Loki could hear it. “Open yours Steve!” someone probed. Captain America still held his own package in his hands, toying with it gently.
Loki maintained his stoic expression, tossing his newly acquired bottle of luxury dry shampoo between his hands as he noted horror descend on his brother’s face. Never fear, brother; he thought smugly. Thor thought that Steve was about to open a small box containing yet another gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory. But Thor was mistaken. Firstly, America’s saviour was lactose intolerant. Any internet search would have told him that. But despite his brother’s poverty of imagination where presents were concerned, his heart was in the right place. And for the cunning plan his love and he had concocted, there was only one gift which could bring the two men comfort and joy this Christmas. The truth. “Wait, wait-” Thor yelped as he took several panicked strides across the room. He knelt down to Steve’s level, placing his hands over the box that Steve had only just revealed through the wrapping. “It’s not-” Steve looked up, meeting the god’s panicked stare with practised indifference.
“Let me open it, will ya?” he said calmly. Thor sank back, head bowed as he waited for the axe to fall. With every careful unlatching of sellotape, Loki saw his brother’s heart sink a little more into his stomach. “Good gravy, what’s this? A pocket-square?” Thor looked up, regret turning to confusion as he clocked the handkerchief dangling between Rogers slender fingers. It was familiar, heavy with otherworldly silk and trimmed in thread ground from the most precious jewels of nine realms. On one side, deepest burgundy melting to crimson. But on the other, a rich navy which faded to shimmering azure.
Red and blue, not red and green.
The two colours met in the middle, threads glittering and overlapping like foam on the shore. They seemed to move. To change and ebb in the light like a living thing. And stitched across the handkerchief in the finest gold,
En sannhet byttet mot en sannhet. “Jeepers,” Steve muttered as he pulled the silk appraisingly through his fingers. “Someone definitely went over the twenty dollar limit.” Thor twisted his head incredulously towards his brother. Loki narrowed his eyes briefly in response, coupled with a small nod. The blonde god cleared his throat, finally catching up to the scenario unfolding before him. “A truth for a truth,” Thor breathed quietly, looking to the floor.
Steve’s concentration broke, as if suddenly seeing the person kneeling beside him on the floor for the first time. “P-pardon?” he stuttered. There was a sudden wave of green hued light through the room, reminiscent of the northern lights which lit up last night’s sky at the jamboree. “My apologies, Rogers…” Loki purred, stepping forwards. “I feel it best to inform you that the others cannot see nor hear us at this moment. As far as they are aware, you are both by the bar.” Loki nodded to where a slightly glitchy duo of duplicates stood behind Tony’s counter, clinking glasses of tequila. “Just myself, and she-” he nodded to you, “are witness.” “W-witness?” Steve spluttered, trying to stand and finding his knees starting to buckle. He looked at Thor, eyes wide. But all he found was softness. “Say the words, Rogers” Thor urged gently, gesturing to the handkerchief. Steve frowned, as the blonde god pulled the silk from his grip.
“A truth for...what was it? Truth for a truth?” Rogers asked, confused gaze darting between the men and you.
Loki clapped his hands together quietly. “Wonderful. You are now bound to the Accords of the Kerchief.” Steve frowned deeper. “Accords of the what-now?” “Kerchief,” Loki repeated formally, nodding towards the silk in Thor’s hand.
“You have both held it while the other spoke the words. And now, you must exchange the truth which causes the conflict between you – so that it may be resolved.” “And what if I don’t wanna?” Rogers sniffed, ears burning. He avoided Thor’s eyes. Loki released a whittling hum of discontent. “Unfortunately, failure to comply with the Accord of the Kerchief once initiated means instant smiting at the hands of Heimdall.” “Smiting?! You can’t be serious,” Steve scoffed with gusto. “Oh yes,” Loki nodded very seriously. Thor was nodding too. Also very seriously. “The penalties are most grave, Rogers.” “You tricked me,” Steve hissed to the blonde opposite him.
“Technically I tricked you,” Loki smirked apologetically. Rogers eyes narrowed in his direction, his lip trembling with what looked suspiciously like a swear. “Laufeyson,” he warned. Loki extended his forefinger, waggling it slowly side-to-side. “It will do not a jot of good, Rogers. You can thank my mother for this one. Now -” he gestured expectantly between the men. Thor took a deep breath. “Rogers-Ihavefeelingsforyouwhichcannotbeexplainedin,mere...Norns-” “Slow down, Thor-” you cooed gently.
Loki felt your hand slide into his. The nerves roaring in his belly soothed as your fingers interlinked. Despite maintaining an exterior of calm, he was terrified.
“Rogers,” Thor began again. Steve stared at him, transfixed. The aura of suspicion which surrounded him was fading, his stiff spine slackening as he looked at the god. Really looked at him. Saw him.
“I have feelings for you, which run deep to the heart of me. Which I cannot deny any longer. And if you feel that you cannot return my interest, then I shall understand. But I cannot spend another night unable to sleep, thinking that you believe me to hate you. And I apologise for my boorish behaviour these past months.” There was a pause as the god took a breath before continuing. “It was self preservation, you see-” Thor rumbled quietly, before sighing.
Steve looked down, still except for his fingers fidgeting with the wrapping paper in his lap. “That was well done, brother” Loki soothed. Thor shot him a sad smile. “I-” Rogers started.
The three of you held your breath. He looked up, just at the moment Thor curled a blonde tendril behind his ear. “I-” Steve choked, shifting on his knees. “It’s okay Steve,” you coaxed from the side-lines. It was the final nudge he needed. “I feel the same,” was all Steve said. He looked up, meeting Thor’s widening eyes. “Truly?” Steve nodded shyly. “I got myself in a tizz, about a whole bunch of things which weren’t really to do with you. Or….us. Not really,” he stammered. "It wasn't a mistake. And I was a dummy to say so." Loki felt your fingernails dig into his palm, both of you craning forwards as the captain continued. His voice was serious, a slight waver just audible between the words. “For a while, I thought you thought I was just some kinda tart. Some kind of loose Jack. Well lemme tell you Odinson, Steve Rogers is no one’s tart.” “You were never my tart, Rogers,” Thor uttered with gravitas, gently cupping Steve’s jaw. The captain’s eyelids fluttered closed, leaning into his hold. In seconds, the space between them closed. Rogers arms wrapped around Thor’s shoulders, Thor’s hands sliding around the captain’s waist. They fit together like a glove, Steve’s fingers winding in the god’s hair like a spindle through spun gold. Low mutterings of apologies cascaded from their lips between kisses, small gasps and sighs as unpleasantness of past months were forgotten. “What the fuck?” Tony spluttered. Every set of eyes in the room was fixed on the God of Thunder and Captain America’s passionate embrace. Hel, Loki thought with a shock. In all the excitement, he had neglected to hold the spell which shielded them. The kiss ceased, but still their arms were wound around each other. “Sheesh,” Wanda laughed, grabbing a bottle of the good stuff on her way past the bar. “It’s about time.” A murmur of agreement rolled around the room, a chorus of whoops sounding as each teammate stooped to offer a clap on the back to the newly outed couple. And for the first time in living memory, the colour of Thor’s cheeks rivalled his lover’s. “Maybe you guys won’t be the public embarrassment at parties anymore,” Nat quipped as she passed, tapping Loki and you lightly on the ass. Your laughter lit up Loki’s heart. And there was that look in your eye again, the one he couldn’t place yesterday.
‘We did it,’ you mouthed silently to him. Loki winked in response, just as the clock chimed eight. With a spring in his step, Loki made his way to the men kneeling awkwardly on the floor, noting their interlinked fingers with a wave of pride. He offered both hands, and each was taken. He heaved, pulling the men to stand and immediately into a hug.
“Merry Christmas, brother” he whispered in Thor’s ear. “Do you need the handkerchief back?” Thor muttered through a smile. “I am assuming the revised colours were only temporary.” Loki chuckled, pulling him and Rogers tighter. The captain released a strangled ooft as the air was pressed from his lungs.
“I think not that we need such a trinket to ensure our bond. Not anymore. Do you, brother?” Loki murmured into his sibling’s hair.
From deep within the embrace, in a hold which seemed to melt the centuries, Loki felt his brother shake his head.
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The party was a roaring success. And in the early hours of Christmas Day, you and Loki stumbled back to your apartment upstairs.
It was tiredness, mostly – and happiness. Strands of tinsel poked from Loki’s curls. You pulled one out with a giggle before unlocking the door and pulling him inside. “Finally,” he growled longingly as one slim finger toyed with the strap of your dress. Making quick work of pushing the velvet suit jacket from his shoulders, your fingers were halfway down his shirt buttons before you suddenly remembered- “-your present!” you cried, making Loki flinch back from where he had been buried in your neck.
“Can’t it wait?” he whined with feigned impatience. You waved an excited hand, scurrying to the cupboard. “No.” you shouted, head popping out behind the cupboard door. “I’ve been dying to give it to you.” Loki sighed, a reluctant smile spreading across his beautiful face. “I thought we agreed no gifts,” he huffed as you ran and sat cross-legged on the bed.
You bounced on your knees while he swaggered over, undoing the last of his buttons with a knowing grin as he enjoyed the roam of your hungry stare across his skin. His carved abdomen flirted into view, obliques visible with each stride as the thick cotton folded to his movements. Loki sat on the bed, legs spread at the edge. His thighs creased the material in a way that made your mouth water.
He picked up the box, inspecting it before throwing you a lingering smoulder. “Mischievous elf,” he purred. “It’s just a small thing” you bargained, biting your lip as the first side of paper was torn. “I stole it, actually.” Loki raised an eyebrow. “Open it!” you said, chewing on your thumbnail as you watched his eyes drop to the package. Suddenly the god’s face changed.
Playfulness melted to a frown, his smirk fading. He swallowed thickly, staring down at the mug in his hands before looking up at you. “-with the yellow bear,” he said quietly. “and the eyepatch!” you beamed. “I took it from the cottage. I noticed you always used it, I thought you might like the-”
Before you could finish, Loki’s hand had cupped the back of your head and pulled you into an all-consuming kiss. He bore down on you, the passion of his adoration sinking through the air and deep into your soul. Every circle of his tongue against yours, every caress of his breath as he repositioned his mouth over your own. He broke, panting. “Darling,” was all he could muster in thanks as he looked down at the ceramic with adoring eyes. You couldn’t stop smiling. His gaze snapped up, a click of his fingers making a perfectly wrapped present appear beside you on the bed. Golden paper shimmered before becoming whole. It was flat, and light. “No presents, huh?” you goaded sweetly. Loki smiled. “Open it,” he echoed. You complied. And inside the paper was a perfectly folded nightdress, adorned with autumnal leaves. The very same one. You hugged it to your chest, a dopey smile on your face. “I knew it was the one thing in that room you would miss,” he rumbled apologetically.
You reached for his hand, thumb running over the veins taut and thick on the back. “I hope this doesn’t mean I’ll be sleeping alone,” you whispered with a smile. Loki placed his mug on the side table, before reaching for the nightdress and placing it beside. “God forbid,” he growled. Loki pulled another errant strand of tinsel from his hair, making it vanish. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered you back on the mattress, the pad of one fingertip tracing down your cheekbone. Memorising it.
The way he was looking at you, the silence that hung where words should be. You knew which words they were. He was holding back, even now as he inhaled against your pulse-point. Holding back for you. As dark curls blanketed your vision, you thought of the excitement in his voice as the cunning plan was formed. Of the way his fists clenched as he silently cheered his brother on, how his face fell when he thought that it was all for naught. How his eyes had swum with joy as it all came together. Not for himself, but for them. And you thought of the smile on that little girl’s face, joyful in the midst of Christmas lights and magic that shouldn't be possible. But for her, and for you - with him...it was. Yes, you’d thought about that a lot. “I love you, Loki” you whispered slowly in his ear.
Loki’s kisses against your neck faltered. You heard a sigh rack his chest, breath hitching as his heart-beart quickened on top of your own. “Truly?” he murmured in response.
It was cautious, wary. His eyes came into view, concern clouding them. You slid a hand up his jaw, kissing him gently. “I love you,” you repeated solemnly. He pressed his forehead to yours, a choke of relieved laughter accompanying a long inhale of breath. “Gods,” he whispered on the exhale, “what have I done to deserve you?” “Everything,” you replied quietly. It was a truth.
He kissed you as though he was trying to absorb each atom of your breath, capture each flutter of the three words he’d longed to hear. As though they might vanish if he did not mark the moment with the seal of his touch. But they wouldn’t. You knew that now. How could they? “I love you,” he whispered back. And you believed him.
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A/N: Thank you again so so so much for coming on this journey with me and the gang. I'm so happy with how this ended, even though the expansion was a bit unexpected(!) and I really hope you are too! Although the 'main' story is chapters 1-7, it felt like there was more to explore. Please let me know what you thought, any insights or additional HCs you have - they are always welcome ❤️ Tags
@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @goddessofwonderland
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bones4thecats · 5 months
Note
Which ror characters do you think would have this dynamic:
*reader being drunk as hell* *character trying to get her up to help her make it to bed* reader:"get the hell away from me i have a partner."
Character:...i AM your partner
Reader,smiling dumbly: "hi luv"
(if it's too bothersome feel free to skip)
A/N: OMG, this was so much fun to write for!! I love this dynamic in couples, my friend actually has this dynamic and I tease her for it all the time! This is the Gods edition, I’ll make a Humans one later. Anyways, enjoy~~
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💀 He may seem like he wants a regal and mature S/O, but let's be honest, he needs a chaotic one to balance him out
💀 So when you got drunk, holy hell, it was funnier than shit
💀 Hades came home and walked through the bedroom doors and saw as you laid on your back, allowing your top half to dangle off the edge and your bottom to hang on the bed top
💀 He chuckled and asked what you were doing in which you replied with;
“ Layin’ down. “
💀 You were slurring as you spoke, and with that, your body language, and the empty wine bottle that laid on the bedside table top led him to realize, you were drunk
💀 He bent his knees and began to lift you up before coaxing you into bed, and when he was about to lay beside you, you pushed him back up, and said;
“ Get the Helheim away from me, I have a husband. “
💀 Hades started to cry from holding back his laughter, answering with;
“ My Queen, I am your husband. “ “ Hi love. “
💀 He was not letting you gain access to his wine anytime soon
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💪 Like Hades, he seems like he wants a fairly mature S/O, but he does enjoy the amounts of randomness and seeming chaos you bring everywhere you turn
💪 He had been training with Ares’ army, since the God was busy with other work, and all he wanted was to lay down and take a well-deserved sleep with you by his side
💪 Heracles expected you to be sitting on the couch waiting for him, but seeing you sprawled out, snoring with an empty beer bottle on the ground, he chuckled, picked you up and laid you on the bed while he took a quick shower
💪 He knew you hated him laying in bed all sweaty and sticky
💪 When he finished his shower and got ready to lay down with you, you laid a hand on his chest while gently, yet firmly, pushing him away
“ Don’t come near me, I have a husband, and he would kick your butt for touching me. “
💪 He wanted to laugh so badly, and unlike Hades, he did, though he kept it at a low volume
“ Sweetheart, I am your husband. “ “ Hi love. “
💪 Seeing you smile made him chuckle, and lay down next to you as you relaxed
💪 He’s have to tell the others not to give you any alcohol anytime soon
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🌩️ He adores the chaos you bring around most of the time, but he doesn’t like it if it gets to be super extreme, so if Loki is involved, nope
🌩️ Thor and you seem to balance each other out well, he’s calm and quiet while you’re loud and oblivious
🌩️ He has seen your drunk before, but that time you just passed out after hugging him and making him carry you home from the meeting
🌩️ But he had never seen you this drunk
🌩️ Thor came home from his training and noticed a broken bottle on the ground with slight blood, and it made him ready himself, preparing to see something horrid
🌩️ He strode deeper inside your living room and saw you laying on the ground with a blanket lazily draped over your midsection, halfway off and halfway on
🌩️ Slight blood was dripping onto the ground and blanket from your hand, you must have dropped the bottle and tried cleaning it up
🌩️ Thor picked you up and laid you on the bed and motioned for the maids to clean the mess up while he took you to bed
🌩 Once he laid you down and tried to clean up your hard injury, you woke up and pushed him away from you with a pout
“ Get away from me… I have a husband, thank you. “ “ My bolt, I am your husband… ” “ Hi love… ”
🌩️ Sigh, this is why he doesn’t let Loki and you hang out
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📨 He didn’t keep that much alcohol inside the house, knowing you’d do something stupid with it
📨 The only stuff he kept was things like wines given to him on his birthdays and whatnot, but he made sure to keep it hidden very well from you
📨 When Hermes came home early that day, he had decided to break open a bottle of red wine with you, but when he went to go grab some, it was gone, and he froze
📨 Hearing stumbling come through the house made him grab a pair of scissors just in case and walk towards it, carefully not making much noise
📨 Hermes looked inside your room and saw you with a bottle in your hands, it was nearly fully empty, and by the way three more rested besides you, you were drunk off your ass
📨 He just chuckled at both your actions and his own
“ My dear, are you alright? “
📨 He grabbed the bottle and kneeled down to kiss your forehead before you stood up and caused him to headbutt you on accident, thankfully, you didn’t seem to feel it
“ I have a husband, and he can run circles around you, now, leave! “ “ Dear, I am your husband, but I thank you for the compliment. “ “ Hi love. “
📨 It took a while, but when he finally got you to sleep it was fun, especially when you woke up and remembered what you did, he was gonna use that against you for a while
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sturridges · 21 days
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‘The Sandman’ Season 2 Episode Titles and Episode Count Revealed
The Sandman Season 2 is set to have 12 episodes, and Netflix may release them as two volumes, with six episodes each. The news comes via a profile update on Independent Talent for director Jamie Childs, who will serve as executive producer for the new season.
Netflix has yet to confirm this, but in recent years, the streamer has released anticipated seasons of TV series in two volumes. Stranger Things received the two-volume treatment, for example.
Then, we have the titles for six episodes of The Sandman Season 2. For those who know the comics, these reveal a good amount of information regarding where the second season is headed.
Here are the episode titles for the second season of The Sandman. We have only six of them so far, and with 12 in total, we think these could be Vol 1.
In no particular order:
The Song of Orpheus, named after the special issue of the same name. Needless to say, this one will focus on Ruairi O’Connor’s Orpheus
More Devils Than Vast Hell Can Hold, referencing the issue A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Brief Lives, named after the issue of the same name
Family Blood, likely referencing “spilling family blood”, something Dream seeks to avoid
The Ruler of Hell, referencing Gwendoline Christie’s Lucifer. Or perhaps Hell will have a new ruler? We won’t spoil.
Season of Mists, named after the comic collection of the same name. Previously mentioned Odin, Thor and Loki are most likely to appear in this episode.
The second season of The Sandman still has no official release date, but we’re not expecting a return in 2024. Indeed, it was left out of Netflix’s 2024 slate reveal in February, and 2025 seems to be the most realistic release schedule. Despite that, we’ve already had many casting reveals for season 2 so far, with more to come (more this week, in fact!), and filming is expected to wrap by August 31st, 2024.
(source: What's on Netflix)
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the-doomed-witch · 1 year
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DRIVING LESSONS
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Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: Nat teaches you how to ride her motorbike.
Word Count: 2.3k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY; MINORS + MEN DNI. not proof read (apologies), smut, fingering (r receiving), strap-on (r receiving), bit of teasing, bit of fluff, making out
DISCLAIMER: Please note that this is a work of fiction and you are not supposed to mess around while driving and should definitely wear a helmet and stuff. Yeah just stay safe and again, remember that this is fiction.
Author’s Note: we are going to pretend that i am not the writer who uploads a fic every two months 😁 gif credits to the creator.
MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION // REQUESTS OPEN
— ✦ —
Thor holds up his jug flooded with beer, and raises a toast, “Here’s to everyone’s favourite couple, the two people we adore, Y/N and Natasha!” All the Avengers cheered for the two of you. Natasha wraps her arm around you and whispers in your ears, “To us, love.”
Taking a few sips of your drink, you place the glass on the table and turn to your girlfriend. “I cannot imagine myself ever being thankful for being stupid in the past but I am. I love you.”
“I love you too. Mind who you are talking about, you’re my stupid.” She kisses your forehead, it makes you blush under everybody’s gaze.
After a few rounds of drinks and snacks around the table, you gesture at Nat to drop you back home, before she gets too drunk. She gets up and announces, as she puts on her leather jacket, “Folks, I’ll be back after dropping my gorgeous girlfriend back at her place.” She beams at you and pecks your lips. Yep, she is mildly drunk.
“Don’t forget to take your time to tuck her in bed!” Tony shouts sarcastically from afar, as you’re both walking away. He was quite inebriated and you could hear Pepper asking him to get himself together.
Outside the bar, you confirm with Nat once again, “Are you sure you are sober enough to drive me home? I could get a cab or something. I want you to be safe.”
“First of all, you’ll be sitting right behind me and you’re not scared for your own safety? Lame. Secondly, I've been trained to be vigilant all my life. I’ll be right back.”
Couple of moments later, she’s back on her motorcycle and you seat yourself on the seat behind her. “Hold me close, for precautionary concerns of course.” she tells you. She wasn’t facing you but you knew what her smirk would be like.
You wrap your arms tightly around her waist and rest your head on her back, minimising the distance between the two of you. It’s a safe, comfortably silent drive, where the breeze blows softly and the night sky gets romantically darker.
— ✦ —
Inside your apartment, Natasha sits down on your bed as you go to freshen up in the bathroom. You enjoy testing her patience and so you take your time to shower, not letting her in, but making her wait for you outside. “Y/N? Detka? At least let me shower with you or let me go back to the bar. Don’t do this to me!” you hear her calling out to you from the room. You answer back in the same volume, “I’ll be there in a minute.”
As said, you step out with a towel wrapped around your bare body. “Oh Y/N you’re not doing this to me right now.”
You reply, “I surely am, honey.” and walk around the room drying your hair, gathering clothes, putting the dirty ones in the laundry, and whatnot. While doing your currently irrelevant chores, you bring up more random things to talk about.
Clearing the pile of laundry, you ask her, “Do you think I should get a haircut? A change in colour maybe?”
“You look so beautiful today, Natty.” you say, giving her a soft peck on the cheek as you move along the room, letting her notice your cleavage.
“By the way, Nat, I would love it if you could teach me how to ride a motorcycle.”
She gets up, holds you and places you on the bed a little harshly, pinning you down with her body. In a deep, sultry voice, she warns you, “You’ll be taught a lot of stuff and being a good girl for me is going to be the first one of them.” And with that, the towel is thrown aside.
Nat leans forward to catch you in a deep kiss, the one you’ve been depriving her ever since you reached home. Instinctively, your hands clutch the collar of her shirt and pull her closer to you, till there is no space to spare.
The next thing you know is that her fingers are inside your pussy, pumping so hard. It results in you moaning into the kiss, and releasing the collar of her shirt, silently asking her to let you catch up on your breath. When she moves her face a little farther than you liked, you grab her back to proximity, all between screams and chants of her name. Small locks of her auburn hair dangle around before you tuck them behind her ears.
The movements of her digits get faster and faster till you are at the edge of your climax. It was hard to speak anything, so your body gives indications to Natasha in lieu of telling her verbally about your orgasm. It felt wonderful that none of you needed words to communicate, the silent and subtle signs were enough.
She lets you come all over her hand, adding on praiseful murmurs to bring you back to composure.
— ✦ —
The next morning, you wake up fully clothed in your PJs with no sign of Natasha. She probably went back to the bar or the compound later. But she was out on the balcony, looking at nothing tangible. “Good morning, baby.” you greet her, acknowledging your presence. She turns towards you and smiles, “Good morning, dorogoya. Did you sleep well?”
“I did. I thought you left because of work, but I guess you’re free today?”
“You know I love a bit of snuggling,” she grins sheepishly, “And I’m free for you, anytime. Are you still up for the driving lessons thing?”
“Sure! Let me freshen up and we’re gonna be ready to leave.”
— ✦ —
Nat drove the two of you to a less busier part of the city to find an empty road, for obvious reasons. You observe her throughout the trip to learn a few things ahead of the track.
On a small and empty street, Nat lets you sit on the vehicle and climbs on the seat behind you. Little by little, she points at the different stuff, explaining what their respective functions are. “Here is the clutch, you pretty much know what it does. Keep your hand on it at all times no matter what […] Place your foot here. Yes and pull the clutch. And this is how you change gears.”
An hour or so later, you were driving smoothly on the straight road with Natasha guiding you little by little. She kept both her hands on your hands at all times, praising you every now and then to encourage you.
“Keep going, Y/N. Yes, now let’s take a U-turn.”
The afternoon passed this way. She taught you some more basic things, till you suggested lunch - “I almost forgot about lunch. I know a nice place with the best Mexican food in this area, let’s go there.”
As both of you wait for your food to arrive, your girlfriend initiates conversation, “If you keep practising this way I think you’ll learn how to drive a motorcycle quite well within a week. But of course, practice is important.”
“Does that mean I could take you on a ride soon?”
“Well, it does. Here’s our lunch though.”
— ✦ —
And so, your driving lessons were continued without any other Avenger having the knowledge. Three months passed by, till one starry evening Natasha tells you, “I think you have practised enough for this moment.”
It leaves you in thorough confusion, but the look in her eyes doesn’t seem malicious so you let her do her thing. She takes you to a place you cannot recall but have definitely been to, as far as the route is concerned.
It isn’t until the both of you reach the destination when you realise you’re at the garage. Memories of her lips and gasps wash over you as you walk inside of it once again. There’s nothing very different about it as a room. There are grey painted walls and two bikes including the one you drove on just now. A few mechanical tools, cans of spray paint, some more tactical gear. In one bottom corner of the room, there were patches of spray paint, they were probably tested there.
You turn around and recall every moment of that night by keeping your bottom lip bitten. Natasha knows all the things clouding your train of thought, but she had something different planned.
She pulls a white sheet off of a motorbike you didn’t really notice was standing in the corner. Nonetheless, it is a gorgeous, matte-black one with tires wider than a usual motorcycle. The black-tainted windshield added a touch-up. You let out an uncontrollable awe at the look.
“My gosh, Nat, this is fucking awesome. It might as well be the coolest bike to ever exist.”
She smiles at your reaction, and explains, “Tony made this for me a couple of years ago. It’s designed to prevent you from falling down, but oh she rides fast, Y/N. I cannot wait for you to drive this.” She wraps her arm around you. Your cheeks are flustered at her wordplay, but you hide it from prominence.
“Quick question. If it’s made for a stable drive then why didn’t you teach me on this one? I mean, you said that I am now “ready” for this.”
“You’ll find out all about that, Y/N.” She winks at you and tosses you the keys. Her expression was easily decipherable, she was up to something cocky. You shrug your shoulders anyway and take a seat on the bike, lifting it off the stand. It’s surprisingly light for a build as heavy as it appears to be.
A few minutes later, you’re driving by on one of the emptiest yet the most romantic streets in the city. There are not many stars visible, but even the handful ones that are in sight are enough. The breeze is extremely light, and cosily cold. Both of Natasha’s arms swaddle around you. Her classic leather jacket evidently fails to give her the warmth that she feels with you. Her face is nuzzled up on your left shoulder.
Suddenly, the pleasant moment turns into an entirely different one, when you sense her sultry breath on your collarbone. Before you can speak in protest, she directs you, “Shush. Keep driving dorogoya. I am right here.”
Her cold fingers slowly glide down towards your core over your pants. Once, then twice she circles them over your needy clit. You groan lightly, as you arch your back. “Nat, we’re gonna get hurt. Let me-”
“Nuh-uh honey. This is what you get for testing my patience the other night. And now you are so needy for me, aren’t you?” You lean back into her harder and hum as a positive response. “Then use your words Y/N. Are you needy for me right now?”
“Yes. You and only you.”
“Good.” Her persistent teasing makes you hit the brakes harshly as an instinct. You park the motorcycle in an empty parking lot and hold Nat’s hand, guiding her behind a tree trunk whose sole purpose later resulted to be a mere physical support.
Your back resting on the tree, you grab her flustered face between your hands and tug her in close. When the lack of oxygen is too much, she pulls away. Sweaty palms clutching her leather jacket, you make her take it off to reveal her tank top.
You turn her around and begin planting kisses and leaving marks all over her. Natasha’s pants get heavier by the minute as you suck on her skin then soothe it, and repeat it. The redhead turns her head towards you as she unbuttons her pair of jeans. With a smug look and a twinkle in her wonderful emerald eyes, she reveals a strap larger than any that you have taken before.
Vigorously, she pins you against the tree again and unbuttons your pants, then pulls them down immediately, just enough for her to access. Before you can process the moment, the strap fills up your cunt.
On shortage of friction, you move your hips along, but Nat takes her time to pick up a pace. However, once she does, you can sense the leaves shedding due to the shaking. Her free hand covers your mouth, to keep you considerably silenced. Beads of sweat roll down her defined face, and she stares right into your eyes with a look so pure.
You anticipate your climax reaching, and your eyes widen as a result. Nat lifts her hand off your mouth and orders, “You know you have to ask for it, detka.”
And so, you barely manage to utter currently, “Please, Nat, can I come?”
As a reply, she nods lightly and thrusts inside of you harder, till you come. Soon as you release, your balance gets toppled over. Her hands come to your rescue the following second, and she places you down in the concrete ground to relax. You sit up straight with some support.
“Y/N, there’s a store right around the corner, I’ll be right back getting you a pair of new sweatpants. We’ll go home after that, okay?” Natasha asks you, handing you a bottle of water and placing a hand on your shoulder gently. “Okay.”
She helps you get changed, and you aid her with packing everything up neatly. “How are you feeling?” she asks you in a silent tone. “I- This feels wonderful. I wish you would let me return the favour, though. How are you feeling?”
“Still deeply in love with you as ever.”
She plants a kiss on your cheek and rides you back to your apartment.
— ✦ —
Upon reaching home, you grab her firmly and tell her, “You know, baby, I’m actually feeling kind of hungry right now.”
“Then wait let me get something for y-”
Tightening your grip around her, you whisper against her reddened face, “Oh, you see, I’m not really that kind of hungry.”
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midnightlizard · 2 months
Text
Why can't everyone just go away, only you can stay
Wanda Maximoff x gn!reader
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Summary: After a bad mission, your girlfirend is there to help you
Warnings: canonical violence, hurt/comfort at it's peak
A/N: I wrote this years ago so I don't really like it, but here it is. Also, I had emo Wanda in mind but it can be any era
Word count: 1518
-
-
"How is that cut? Need any help?"
you raised your head form were you were sitting on the quinjet while mending your forearm, to look at the blonde.
"don't worry I got this, I've had worse, anyway."
you signed, smiling reassuringly.
"okay." Clint sighed.
"I'll do your report, we've held the same position so I'll just have to change some words."
He stopped you before you could interject
"you need some sleep"
and without another word, he went to sit in the pilot's seat, leaving you there.
>>>>
As soon as the team got off the plane, you went straight to your room and locked the door.
Meanwhile, Wanda was with Natasha in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the two of them. They stopped once Steve came into the room.
"hey Steve, already back?"
"the mission ended before the time, so here we are." he answered the assassin's question, while picking up some leftovers from the fridge.
At this, the witch tilted her head "something wrong?"
The captain sighed "I wasn't there, you should ask them yourself"
The two redheads looked at each other, exchanging confused stares.
>>>>
Wanda decided to give you some space, she knew that once you were okay you would be the one coming to her.
Only this time, it didn't happen. Two days have passed and you were still in your room, which meant you hadn't eaten anything.
The other avengers have tried to get you out, like Tony asking for help in the laboratory, or Thor stating he wanted to play some 'Midgard games'.
But they only got silence in return.
The witch took matters into her own hands.
She went in the kitchen, fixing you a quick meal and grabbing two water bottles, before knocking on your door.
No one answered, so she tried again, this time with her voice.
"(Y/N)? It's me, it's Wanda. Please open the door."
she waited a few seconds, before she resumed talking.
"at least take the food, you can't-"
Her voice died in her throat when she heard the door open.
Having her hands full, she used her powers to open it completely and closing it once she was in.
Your room was always messy...but this, Wanda has never seen all this chaos. Clothes were all over the place and everything that was normally on the shelves was now on the floor.
The rays picking through the blinds being the only thing illuminating the room.
You still wore your dirty and bloody suit, whose blood it was she couldn't tell.
You were sitting on the bed, looking at the hands on you lap. The redhead left the food on the nightstand before sitting beside you. She didn't dare touch you, not knowing what reaction it would have led to.
“I didn’t want you to see this.”
You suddenly said, breaking the agonizing silence in the room.
"honey it's okay, I don't care about the mess, I only care that you are fine."
She put her hand on yours, only for you to swiftly getting away.
"well I am, if you didn't know I can heal my body, so even if I get hurt it doesn't matter."
You replied a little harshly. You noticed your tone and looked at Wanda for a brief second but couldn't bring yourself to say sorry, you just didn't want to talk and make everything worse.
Your girlfriend, thankfully, understood the venom in your voice wasn't aimed at her. She couldn't read your mind, no, but she could distinguish volumes and velocity of your thoughts, and with time she was able to associate them with your feelings and emotions.
Loud and messy cries was all the scarlet witch could hear, which only meant one thing, you were scared.
So she tried with the sweetest voice she could master.
"angel, do you want to talk about it?"
You jumped off the bed and started pacing around the room, fidgeting with your fingers.
"I-I had to hold position, but-but there was a bomb. They put a bomb where we were supposed to stay and then, I-I tried to reject- Clint was busy-"
Your poorly formed speech stopped once you felt warm hands on your cold cheeks. You were starting to have a panic attack, sign the sokovian knew all too well.
"please look at me, shh it's okay. You don't have to explain. (Y/N)-"
She took one of your hand and put it on her chest, to let you feel it rising and her heartbeat.
"you're okay love, just follow my breathing, the mission went well, Clint is fine, you are fine, you are here with me you hear me?"
She kept looking into your eyes, searching for any reaction.
At this point you didn't know if she was using her powers or it was her aura, all that mattered was that in minutes you calmed down. As slowly as one could, you loosely wrapped your hands around Wanda's waist.
Once she sure it was okay to move, she made the final step and wrapped you up in a hug, her chin on your head, resting on her chest, while the sokovian run her hands through you hair.
As she tried to move the two of you to bed, the witch heard your arms tighten around her middle, and your flebile voice whispering- "Can we just stay here for a moment?"
"I’m not going anywhere."
>>>>
After probably half an hour you raised your head and without a word, connected your forehead to hers.
Once you opened your eyes, you found her already looking at you with a smile.
"hey."
"hi" Wanda nudged you nose with her own, before connecting your lips in a long but simple kiss, neither of you moving, only slightly smiling.
The woman took your face in her hands
"can I mend your cuts?"
At your nod, the readhead took your hands and brought you to the bathroom and sat you on the sink.
While she was looking for the first aid kit you started fidgeting with your hands.
"something wrong baby?"
She tilted her head, preparing the alcohol on the wadding.
"it's just-" you hesitated for a moment, softly laughing
“I’ve never had someone taking care of me before.
I'm sorry for reacting that way...and for locking myself here"
"it's okay, you won't have to worry about doing it all by yourself anymore, even when you feel like no one is there, I'll always be here, ready to help you, got it?"
"good" she added after you nodded, booping your nose, causing you both to giggle.
"Can I kiss you?" she asked, once silence settled in.
"when have you ever asked?"
So she did.
As you were enjoying the kiss, you suddenly felt the cut on your forehead burning, causing you to pull away.
"ow, what the hell?"
"sorry baby, I have to disinfect it or it's going to get worse" she looked at you sympathetically, which was enough to convince you.
After a short while, you raised your hands, bringing them on the edge of her jeans and opened your legs, to bring her closer. Once she was done she kissed the top of your head.
She grabbed the end of your shirt and slowly started to undress you, only leaving the pants on.
"take a bath love, I'll be right outside, okay?"
>>>
After you got out of shower, you found some pants with your comfort hoodie on the sink, while your suit was nowhere to be found.
When you came back to the bedroom, you found your girlfriend wearing one of your sweatshirt. A smile made its way to your face.
"I kind of wanted to ask you to stay here because I don’t wanna sleep alone tonight, but it looks like you have already decided" you finished with a shrug.
She blurted out a laugh, coming in front of you.
"I didn't want you to sleep alone, and I also missed you, so it's a win win."
The readhead mormored with a blush on her cheeks.
With the grip she had on your hands, Wanda dragged you to bed and made you sit on the edge. "come on, eat something" she encouraged you, putting the plate on your lap. It was nothing too sophisticated but you still ate it within minutes. And once a water bottle was offered to you, you quickly drank it all.
When she was sure you took full care of yourself, well you both did, she laid in bed, getting behind you.
You instinctively turned around and closed your arms around her waist, laying your head on her chest, while she ran her hand through your hair.
“I love you.”
“I know.”
The remark caused you to scoff and her to laugh, before continuing with her speech.
"and I love you, always and forever."
She laughed again when you nuzzled your head in her neck, not knowing how to take direct words of affection.
"goodnight, my love"
This time as a response she heard your breathing even out, meaning you were already asleep, her not being too far from you.
Wanda Maximoff Masterlist - MCU Masterlist
General Masterlist
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casualcomicfan · 10 months
Text
Things non-comic fans get wrong about Peter Parker.
Several people who don't read the comics seem to get ideas about characters and how they act. It's fine when you're doing to characters you know about, but for characters you don't know about, not so much.
Please note: This post is not meant to gate keep anyone from comics, MCU or any other Marvel related products.
#1: He is ugly. This one is false for the most part. Look at the women he has dated, Liz Allan, Gwen, MJ, Black Cat, Carol Danvers and others.
#2: He is naive. This one is also false. Peter is optimistic. There is a difference. Peter himself recognizes that the world is a terrible place. However he thinks it can get better. That is the whole point of him not killing his enemies.
#3: He has to suffer to be relatable. No, just no. This one is false. He doesn't have to suffer to be relatable. He is relatable because he deals with relatable problems. He is nerdy, has to make ends meet, etc. That is how he was relatable. Not suffering. And certainly not whatever the f#ck is going on in the current run.
#4: He is hated by other heroes. This one mainly stems from the Superior Spider-Man comic arc, but is still blatantly wrong. He has several friends in the comics, such as: Daredevil, Deadpool (to an extent) Wolverine, Luke Cage, Johnny Storm, Cloak and Dagger, and several others.
#5: He is not respected by the other heroes. This was also caused by Superior Spider-Man. However several people respect him. Mr. Fantastic and Iron Man respect him for his intelligence. Captain America calls him on of the greatest men he's ever known. Thor says (in a complimentary way) that he was the most mortal man he knew. T'Challa let him eat a Heart-Shaped Herb. Hulk was one of the few people who knew Peter's identity after OMD.
#6: He was a teenager for most of his publication history. The first ever Spider-Man comic was published in August 1962 in Amazing Fantasy #15. He he graduated and became an adult on June 8, 1965 in The Amazing Spider-Man Volume 1 #28.
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rendy-a · 28 days
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amh if possible could hoy make hdcns for the dorm leaders ( separately ) reacting to their mc fem explaining the marvel universe and then puts them to watch the movies hehe ( ..also mc's fav hero is dead-pool ;) bc it gives me laugh imagine their reactions about this xd) , thanks in advance and take care<33
This certainly ended up being a little bit of a crack fic but it ended up amusing. Hope you enjoy it.
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At first, he scoffs as such a time-wasting thing as wanting to watch dozens of movies.  Where is the educational value in this?
He is just too polite to refuse to listen, so he’ll end up letting you describe all your favorite scenes to him.
You are better off if he doesn’t take an interest because, if he does, he is going to turn into the worst sort of comic book geek.  Be ready to have him quote lore from issues of source material at you during any discussion on this from now on.
What do you mean who would win?  In Volume 3 #3, Thor clearly defeated Iron Man.  Don’t get upset Prefect, I don’t write the lore, I just recite it.
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Doesn’t appear to be interested but, if you pause long enough, he’ll prompt you to go on.  It’s important to you, so he’ll try to care at least a little.
You’d never tell him this, but you love to banter with him because it reminds you of your favorite character.  Sometimes you wonder if he’d be pleased or offended to know who you remind him of.
Movie marathons?  Not only is he willing to do them with you, but he is also often the one who suggests them.  Don’t be deceived though, it’s not for the movie but for the quality nap time on the couch with you. 
Don’t turn that off, Herbivore, I’m watching it.  What do you mean I don’t know what’s going on?  This is the part where we learn her mom isn’t dead after all.  So quiet down and keep the lights off.
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Please, he is in Board Game Club with Idia. You think this is the first time he has hmmm’d himself through a conversation about fictional characters?
Wait, you say that this makes a ton of money?  Tell him more about this merchandising and licensing.  Especially that, what do you call it…ah, Happy Meal.
You can eventually talk him into watching the movies with you for ‘research purposes.’  When you do, you can’t help but notice how teary-eyed he gets at the sad scenes.  He’s just so sensitive!
Deadpool is also his favorite character.  He feels a sort of connection to certain parts of his story.
So, she chooses to stay with him even though he looks like that?  No, I’m not blubbering.  No, I don’t need you to cuddle with me.  Ok, fine.  Just for a little while. 
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He doesn’t get it, but he still loves it.  Sure, you have to explain everything to him three times, but he gets excited over your excitement.  Call him any time to talk about your theories on how things would have gone if Thanos had made a different wish on the infinity gauntlet.  He doesn’t mind if it’s 3 AM (just don’t let Jamil find out).
Movie marathons turn into parties.  Why just watch the movies when you can have themed snacks and dress up too?  Hulk smash cakes and Black Widow berry cobbler?  Yes, please.
His favorite part of any film is the soundtrack.  If he hears a song he likes, he gets up to dance along.  It’s pretty disruptive when you are watching the movie but when you see how much fun he is having, you find you don’t really mind after all.
Sorry Prefect, Jamil says we can’t have dance battles in Scarabia anymore.  Ooh!  But come by the Pop Music Club later.  I’m going to play all my favorite songs for Cater and Lilia. Ahaha!
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You were worried Vil would dismiss your favorite Marvel films as inferior art, but he is actually rather generous about it.  He believes the film should suit the audience and, as so, there is nothing wrong with films like this that serve to entertain the masses.
Still, he can’t help but be critical of everything while you watch.  He doesn’t criticize the things you’d talk about with your friends but topics you’d hardly even notice while you watched like the set design and lighting.
You notice Vil seems secretly fond of Loki.  You think the idea of the Villain that survives the main movies to get his own spotlight series appeals to him.
No, Potato, I’m just saying the angle isn’t right for this sort of tone.  A shot from below would be more effective.  Plus…wait, are you having more popcorn?  I don’t think so, it’s past the time you can snack before bed.
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You had expected Idia to be all in on the Marvel Universe but, at first, he is oddly resistant to it.  He’d rather recommend you one of his own favorite hero movies.  If you disagree on which is better, he is more than willing to fight with you over why his is best!
After a heated argument, he puts on some of the movies to watch so he can come up with targeted points about why his own shows are better.  This does not work out for him as he gets sucked in himself.  Next time you meet up, he wants to go over tiny bits of lore and speculate on future plot lines from hints in the past movies.
You might think his favorite would be Iron Man because they both are innovative engineers, but he is a fan of Ant Man.  Shrinking down to a size where you can hide from everyone; it’s an introvert’s dream!
Prefect, this is serious business!  I’ve drawn up plans.  So long as we sleep only 2 hours a day and avoid taking any breaks for food, studying, and showers, we can finish at least three seasons this weekend.  True fans like us need to be ready to sacrifice for the shows we love!
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There are many things Tusnotarou doesn’t understand, and this is one of them.  For starters, he barely knows how to use his smartphone, let alone how to stream movies and shows.  So, before you can even start explaining the plot, you must explain the whole concept of series and interconnecting shows to him.
He doesn’t get it, but he is happy to watch with you.  Your reactions to the show are far more amusing to him than the actual show.  Plus, he feels like he learns so much about the human world from your conversations.  A subway, how intriguing an idea.  Humans are so fascinating.
Even though he watches politely, he isn’t very impressed.  They can fly?  Well so can he.  Magic, lightning, superstrength?  All just part of being a dragon.  Perhaps instead of being interested in these superheroes, you’d rather learn more about him?
 Lilia, do you think I am a superhero?  The Prefect has been explaining this concept to me in great detail lately.  I can’t help but notice the many things I have in common with these so-called heroes.  Why yes, Lilia, now that you mention it, I am wearing a cape.  Another point in my favor. Fu fu fu.    
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queen-of-the-avengers · 3 months
Text
In My Head
Pairing: Thor x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2k
Warnings: angst, fake dating but real feelings
Summary: In order for Thor to be King, he must be in a relationship with someone. He saw you. He chose you. You want him. He doesn't want you.
Squares Filled: fake dating (2023) for @thorbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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x
“What looks better? Pearls or Diamonds?” you ask and hold up two pairs of earrings.
“Diamonds. It matches the sparkles on your dress.”
“Thanks.”
Arendella watches you slip on the subtle sparkly dress for tonight’s dinner with the royal family. You slip on the earrings and fix your hair to give it more volume. Thor better melt when he sees you because you look hot.
“Do you think going to this dinner is a good idea?”
“I have to go. It’s for his parents. They’re getting on his ass about being in a steady relationship before he gets to be crowned King.”
“You’re okay with this arrangement still?”
Your mistake is hesitating before answering her. She raises one eyebrow and you turn away from her so you don’t see the judgement in her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Have you told him how you felt about him?”
“It doesn’t matter, Del,” you sigh. “It’s all fake anyway.”
Arendella gets up and walks in front of you. She pushes some of your hair back behind your shoulders and makes you look better.
“Trust me, it does matter.”
“Not when it comes to him. He’s only doing this for one reason and one reason only: his parents. He wants to be King. That’s it.”
“One of these days this whole thing will blow up in your face.”
“It won’t be tonight.” Your doorbell rings and you look out the window to see the car Thor’s parents sent for you. “That’s the car. I gotta go.”
“Have fun. Tell me everything tomorrow.”
Arendella is right. You wish you could tell Thor just how much he means to you. In the beginning, this was purely a business relationship. Date Thor to get his parents off his back while he continues to do what he does best. His mother told him that in order to be King, he must be in a relationship with someone who is wife material. He saw you walking by the castle and decided you were going to play the part.
It was nice to be treated like royalty with riches beyond compare, eating out in fancy restaurants, wearing nice clothes, and meeting all sorts of people from different Worlds across the Nine Realms. It was a good thing because you got to play the doting girlfriend every so often when his parents were back on Asgard.
However, the time more you two spent together, the more you saw Thor for the man he is. You allowed yourself to fall for him even though you promised yourself you weren't going to do that. You’ve been playing the part for so long that you want to be in the role permanently. Maybe Arendella has a point. Maybe tonight is the night you come clean to Thor about your feelings for him.
His parents are hosting an important dinner with the other royal families of the Nine Realms excluding Midgard (Earth). There are so many rulers on Earth that it would be a hassle to get them all. Thor thinks that he is going to be announced as King tonight which is why you’re going.
You meet Thor outside with a smile. He pulls you into a hug and rubs your back in comfort. You’re not used to this kind of behavior from him since he’s usually at a distance from you. You hear the camera clicks from onlookers nearby and you understand why he’s being so affectionate toward you.
He opens the car door for you and allows you to go inside first, and he quickly follows. As soon as the doors are closed, he’s back to being cold Thor. He only cares about one thing and that’s to be King. He’ll do anything for it… and you though Loki was bad.
“Is your whole family going to be there?” you ask.
“Yes.”
He takes out his phone and smiles as he texts someone. Earth has had such a huge impact on Asgard. Since returning from it, Thor has brough over cell phones, WiFi, cars, and other modern things.
“Is what I’m wearing okay?”
“You look fine,” he says without looking at you.
The hint he’s giving you is received. You decide to look out the window because you’re afraid if you stare at him, you’ll start to cry. The car gets to the castle, and you and thor walk hand-in-hand through the big golden gates. Frigga and Odin wait in the foyer eagerly for their son’s return.
“Lady Y/N! It’s so good to see you again,” Frigga smiles and brings you into a hug.
Odin stands next to her as stoic as ever and Loki is only there because he has to be.
“Frigga. It’s good to see you, too,” you smile.
“Come, the others are waiting.”
Thor, Odin, and Frigga walk off together, leaving you and Loki behind. Loki knows something is up between you and his brother but he’s not entirely sure. Though, when he sees him not even pay attention to you, he’s closer to his theory.
“My brother is an idiot if he doesn’t realize who he has on his arm.”
“Thanks?”
“Just saying. You’re worth more than that oaf.”
The dining room is filled with royal people and their bodyguards. The dinner starts off without a hitch, and you find yourself actually enjoying the presence of everyone. You look over at Thor to see him with a huge smile on his face as he tells his stories from battle. Sif is next to him with a big smile on her face as she adds in her own feats.
Thor is in a good mood. You decide that you’ll tell himhow you feel when the dinner is over with. Toward the end, Odin stands up and grabs everyone attention.
“As you all may know by now, I am nearing the end of my reign as King of Asgard. In my place shall be my first born, Thor. I have no doubt that he will make an excellent King. Please treat him as such.” Odin turns to Thor who smiles at him. “My dear boy, there will be many things you will need to do once you become King, but that may not start until you have become successful in your relationship.”
“We want you two to get married here tomorrow,” Frigga interrupts happily.
“What?” you say and look at Thor.
“You need a Queen to rule by your side,” Frigga says. “What better way than to have the wedding here with everyone in attendance?”
You have to keep up the facade while you’re in a room full of royals, so you place your hand on Thor’s muscular shoulder.
“We would be honored.”
“A toast, then.” Odin raises his glass and everyone follows suit. “To Thor and Y/N.”
“To Thor and Y/N!” everyone repeats.
You’re too busy thinking about the thought of marrying Thor to enjoy the rest of the dinner. Arendella would have a field day if she knew this is happening. At the end of dinner, Thor is trying to escort you out of the castle so he can talk to his parent privately but Frigga interrupts his plans.
“You must sleep over here tonight. You and Thor can have the big bedroom.”
“No, Mother, she needs to go home.”
“Nonesense! Please? It’ll be better for all of us if she stays here tonight.”
Thor and Frigga look at you with two very different looks. Thor looks like he doesn't want you here but Frigga lokos hopeful. You smile tightly and nod in agreement.
“One night won’t kill us.”
“I’m glad. Follow me.”
Thor hangs back slightly so he can talk to you as you follow his mother to the room you’ll be staying in.
“I thought you wanted to go home.”
“It’s one night, Thor. Plus, you need to talk to them. They think we’re getting married. I think we should talk.”
“Please, if you need something, don’t be a stranger. Odin and I are right down the hall and Loki is across the way.”
“Thank you, Mother, but I think we’ll be fine. I’ll see you and Father in the morning.” Thor kisses his mom on the head and she leaves you two alone. When the door closes, Thor becomes a different person again. He grabs one of the pillows and a blanket from the bed. “You can have the bed.”
“Where are you going to sleep?”
“The couch.”
“Thor, I think you’re being a bit dramatic. It’s just a bed, and we’re only going to be sleeping. Is being next to me so bad?”
Thor takes a moment too long to think about this.
“I guess not.”
Thor takes the right side of the bed while you take the left, and you get into bed next to him. It’s a nice California King bed with a lot of space, and he’s taking advantage of the fact that he doesn’t have to be near you.
“Thor, can we talk, please?” you whisper.
“Y/N, please go to bed. It’s late.”
The silence between you two is deafening. This should be your answer. He doesn’t want to talk to you. He doesn’t want to be with you. Maybe you’re doing yourself a favor by not saying anything. Or maybe he’ll realize what an amazing woman you are once you two are married. Regardless, you stare at his back until you fall asleep.
When you wake up, Thor isn’t besides you in bed. You sigh and grab your phone to see what time it is.
Tell Thor how you feel or else you’ll regret it.
You ignore the message from Arendella and fet up for the day. You get dressed in the clothes Frigga had laid out for you and walk aimlessly around the castle. She is inside the kitchen with a chef who is cooking her breakfast.
“Ah, Y/N, good morning.”
“Good morning. Where is Thor?”
“He’s out with Odin. They should be back soon. Are you excited?”
“For what?”
“Your wedding day, of course! I have a bunch of things planned for us to do. First, I want you to have breakfast and rest.”
“You’re too kind to me,” you smile and sit at the table.
“I’ve always wanted a daughter,” she winks at you.
Her knowing the secret between you two is going to break her heart. She has been nothing but kind to you since you first started dating Thor, and you don’t know if you have the heart to tell her the truth.
Thor and Odin return within the hour but neither of them look happy. Odin goes straight to Frigga without so much as a look at you so he can talk to her privately.
“Thor, I really need to talk to you.” Thor gestures for you to follow him so you do, but you frown when he keeps walking instead of stopping to face you. “Listen, I don’t even know how to say this, but--”
“This isn’t working out,” he cuts you off.
“What?”
“I came clean to my father about us. He knows the relationship is fake.”
“Why would you do that? Don’t you want to be King?”
“I found someone else,” your heart cracks with every word he says, “someone who I love. Thank you for what you did but you’re no longer needed.”
And now your heart is on the floor in pieces.
“You’re done with me? Just like that?”
“I’m sorry for how this is ending.”
Thor doesn’t see any use in stickin around so he retreats to a different part of the castle. You’re standing in the middle of the hallway almost in tears because the man you love has tossed you on your ass. He decided you aren’t worth anything anymore, that he’s done using you, and is now not interested.
Things started off as fake but your feelings for him are very real. Would it make a difference if he knew you how in love with him? Doesn’t matter now. You’re sure that he maybe started to feel something for you, or maybe was all in your head. Either way, you’re all alone now.
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liminalpebble · 6 months
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Stray (A Lokitty Tale): Part 2
Part 1 link
A/N: Hi all. This began as a prompt suggestion by @mischief2sarawr and has since grown three heads and answers to no one. It's now a multipart, very fluffy, story about Lokitty. I have no idea where I'm going with this except definitely to the comfort district of fluff town...maybe driving through a little traffic jam of angst on the way there.
Synopsis: It's 1971 and you're a single shop girl living in the tumultuous, often damp, city of Seattle, feeling lost and alone. Meanwhile, Loki (under the guise of D.B. Cooper) is on the run from Thor the moment he jumped out of that plane. After crash landing in a dumpster and disguising himself as a stray cat to lay low, he becomes your beloved feline room mate and an unusual friendship begins to grow.
Stray: Part 2
While the human was away, Loki sprawled out his long Asgardian body across your floor, passing the time with your extensive collection of books. It felt good to him, having arms and legs to stretch again, and opposable thumbs to turn the pages. Staying in a conjured form for too long could be taxing, and the breaks would be welcome, especially since he couldn't be sure how long this little arrangement might continue.
The god of mischief smiled a bit to himself, recalling how you had bustled around in your little uniform, getting ready for your day. You were obviously in a hurry, but you still took the time to stroke his fur and scratch under his chin while you talked to him.
“Good morning, little guy. I left some food out for you and the heater on. I'll be home late...hopefully with all the stuff you might need. Please don't pee in my shoes.”
Suddenly you stopped and rolled your eyes, raising up again to hurry out the door. “Jesus Christ, I'm talking to the cat again.”
Loki chuckled at that (well, meowed with amusement) and found, to his horror, that he was actually sad to lose your company for the day. He found he was becoming very curious about you.
Well, come on, he told himself, it's just that you're naturally curious and it's not like you have much else to occupy your time for now. Might as well observe the mortal.
Satisfied with his rationalization, he listened for the door to click shut and your heels to click down the hall. Once he was sure you were gone he returned to his usual body, and busied himself with your bookshelf, running his pale graceful fingers over the spines with delight.
She certainly has eclectic taste, he mused. The little apartment was crowded with books of all kinds; everything from Shakespeare to comic books, and where there weren't books, there were tidy stacks of records (again, a very eclectic assortment). His took it all in with gusto, fascinated by his choices of entertainment.
He blazed through several mystery novels (which were underwhelming as he was always well ahead of the reveal). Seeking the next read, his perceptive eyes landed on an antique volume, Norse Mythology. He smirked as he slid the book into his palm.
Now this should be interesting.
In a predictably self-indulgent move, he looked for an entry about himself, landing unfortunately on a beautifully illustrated page about Thor. He crinkled his nose in disgust and let the book drop to the floor, but as the tome landed with a thunk, it dropped open to the chapter with his name as the title. He lowered himself to the floor, laying on his belly as he read about his glorious self.
The description wasn't the most flattering. It painted the trickster god as a cruel and violent nuisance, but he had to admit that wasn't entirely inaccurate. There was, however, a glorious illustration in the style of an illuminated manuscript. Green and gold calligraphy snaked out the letters of his name and below it was a very handsome illustration highlighting his bright kaleidoscopic eyes and sharp rakish face (although they always got the hair wrong by painting it a garish shade of red). Oh well, what could one expect from foolish mortals.
His musing was suddenly interrupted by the sound of heels clicking down the hallway. In a panic he looked outside and realized it was already dusk. He had lost track of the time. As he heard your jostling and struggling to unlock the door one-handed, he quickly changed back to his feline form. Loki realized, a moment too late, that he hadn't had time to put the books back from where they laid sprawled out on the floor where he had been reading.
You finally shouldered your way inside, huffing and puffing, arms loaded with a heavy shopping bag. You set it down carefully and kicked your heels off forcefully, feeling weirdly satisfied that they smacked against the wall. (You always hated the damn things, and tended to punish them like this for the pain inflicted on your feet each day).
You smiled to where the sleek black cat was laying with his paws crossed delicately over the pages of a book, tail flicking lazily as if this wasn't at all odd. Loki noticed the quizzical expression on your face as you noticed the books on the floor. “Hey, buddy,” you chirped sweetly, “How the hell did you knock these off?”
“Mrrow,” the cat grumbled.
“Okay, okay. Keep your secrets you little magician,” you said, joining him on the floor and collecting the books. When you came to the volume under his paws, he refused to move them. He thought indignantly, I'm not done reading this! Though he was well aware he wouldn't be getting his way.
“Hrmmm,” you hummed, “Loki, the trickster...” as you traced your hand over the gold script. “He was always my favorite of the Norse gods, you know?”
“Meow?”
“Yeah! The tricksters always make life interesting, right?”
“Meroww.”
“See. I knew you'd agree with me.” You put a pensive finger to your lips. “He'd probably be a good namesake for your, huh, you mischievous scamp? I guess it's better than calling you “buddy” or “little guy” all the time.”
I should damn well think so, madam.
Loki watched curiously as you rose you to your feet, digging something out of your kitchen junk drawer. “Aha!” you exclaimed as you pulled out a green leather watchband (the clock was broken then lost long ago). Pulling out a marker you carefully wrote the name “Loki” in clear block letters on the tattered leather, then gently fastened the band around his neck. Smiling and stroking his fur with your warm hand you said, “Okay, Loki. You look very handsome,” you declared massaging his velvety cheeks with your thumbs. In return, you introduced yourself, saying your name and shaking his paw. “Nice to meet you, Loki.”
Loki wanted to protest this patronization, but your affection felt so pleasant, and it gave him a warm feeling to hear you call him “handsome”.
“Oh! I have...uh...stuff. I think this is the right stuff...Here, look, I've got a litter box and a little bed for you and I got a few different kinds of food. I'm not sure which one you might like best.”
You stopped abruptly, saying once again under your breath, “Jesus Christ...talking to the cat again, you lonely weirdo.”
Loki shot a paw out, tapping your arm and then nuzzling into it. And although you knew it couldn't be more than an animal trying to use you as a heating pad, it seemed like he was trying to say thank you, trying to say that he liked you talking to him and doting on him...and that he wanted to be held.
Crazy...I'm going crazy. I'm a crazy lonely cat lady, and I'm gonna die alone here someday and this cat is going to eat my eyeballs.
Still, it tugged your heartstrings as the little tomcat reached out its paws to your shoulders meowing and purring gently as it attempted to climb into your arms...and who were you to deny him?
Hesitantly, you reached out and held him against you, stroking gently and nuzzling your face against him.
You said quietly with a note of grateful awe, “Awww. I didn't expect you to be such an affectionate little guy.”
Neither did I. Loki thought, even more surprised than you were.
@mischief2sarawr @ladyofthestayingpower @acidcasualties @unlucky-number-13 @goblingirlsarah @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokihiddleston @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @marcotheflychair @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @littlespaceyelf @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @eleniblue @loz-3 @the-haven-of-fiction @sweetsigyn @muddyorbs @icytrickster17 @holdmytesseract @thenerdyoldersister @thedistractedagglomeration @sailorholly @peachyjinx @coldnique @sarahscribbles @peaches1958 @infinitystoner @mischiefmaker615 @coldnique @jennyggggrrr @tripleyeeet @itsybitchylittlewitchy @mochie85 @huntress-artemiss
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arcielee · 23 days
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Interview With a Writer
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Thank you @st-eve-barnes for going over your Saltburn series with me! Just a reminder, you can view volume 1 & 2 of my ongoing series Interview With a Writer, where these talented individuals allow me to pick their brains over the brilliance behind their writing!
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Name: st-eve-barnes
Story: Leverage
Paring: Michael Gavey x Female!Reader
WARNINGS: 18+ for explicit content and language. Kissing, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, hand job, fingering, p in v sex. First kiss and loss of virginity. Experienced reader. Enemies to lovers vibes.
So, when did you start writing?
I guess I have to say as a teenager, though I never shared anything I wrote back then. I still have the notebooks I used to drabble in (in Dutch), it wasn’t very good at all but I guess even back then I had that need to be creative and make my own stories.
I officially started writing fanfic in 2013. I watched Thor the Dark World, fell in love with Loki, made a Tumblr and a whole new world opened. After a few months of reading fanfic, I started writing my own. Again, it wasn’t very good at all but even my bad stories slowly started to find an audience on here, so I stuck with it.
Loki is amazing, just Aemond energy in a different font.
He truly is! I've written different characters since, but the moment I saw Aemond on screen I was transported back to the first time I saw Loki. His intensity, that quiet threat like you don't know what he's going to do next, combined with this, "I was made to be king but my stupid brother is the chosen one."
And a certain sadness, of course. We know they're the villains, but we understand them in a way and can feel their pain. And they are sexy as hell of course ;)
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Where did the plot for Leverage come from?
Okay, so first of all, I am someone who never plans an entire plot when I start a fic. I am very much a "make it up as I go along" writer. I start with an idea and a dynamic I want to write between two characters and then I build from there.
For this one I wanted Reader and Michael to have a common goal and a common enemy, something that would push these two different characters to want to work together. I wanted the enemies to lovers vibe but soft. Like, you can tell very early on in the fic that they have empathy for each other. When Reader is crying, Michael softens up easily, and when she sees Michael being vulnerable about not being able to get girls, she feels for him as well.
Their personalities will still clash even after that, but you can (hopefully) feel the connection between them as well. I wanted Ben's threat to loom over them for the entire fic but also never make it the main plot point in every chapter. The main plot for me here was how Michael and Reader could help each other change and grow, and then either accept that change or turn away from it.
Was there anything in specific that inspired your Reader portrayal?
No, not really, I think. I wanted to make her independent and confident, but also a little bit lonely, all traits you can also find in Michael. And anything else, as usual, I make up as I go along. I get to know the characters as I write them and often I'm surprised where they take me. In this fic I think it was Michael who surprised me the most though, he really turned out different than I initially had planned.
Explain your interpretation of Michael. What drives him? How did he differ from what you originally had in mind?
Salburn didn't give us much to work with, and I actually love that because it gives us so much freedom to play with the character.
I went with what the movie did give us: Michael's obvious hatred for the popular privileged kids. It's the reason he initially hates Reader, but warms up to her when he learns that she is actually working for her place at Oxford and she is not a real part of Ben's group. I think he is driven to help her purely because of that common enemy in the beginning.
Then he gets to know her a little and the promise of sex comes into play, which he definitely doesn't say no to. What surprised me in writing him is that I initially planned on writing him as a sub throughout the entire fic, but then half way in the tables started turning and he started taking over control a bit (of the Reader and me as well apparently!). And then suddenly it made complete sense to write him that way, because he would be that overeager student who wants to do well and who does the homework to get it exactly right, it doesn't matter whether it's math or sex, he wants to show how good and smart he is.
Him just accepting his feelings for her so calmly was also something I didn't plan, but just sort of happened as I was writing.
My initial plans there was going to be a big fight between her and Michael right before they would call things off. He would force her to admit her feelings and the sex would turn quite rough; Michael just being Michael and saying a lot of wrong things to her that would eventually shut her down completely. But I never wrote that scene and by the time I got there in the story it didn't seem to fit their characters anymore and it also seemed too heavy for this fic so I let go of that idea.
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Do you feel your Reader and Michael complement one another?
I definitely think they complement each other, but I also think they are quite alike in many ways. As I said before, they are both quite confident in different ways and insecure in others.
I do think they complement each other perfectly with Michael being more book smart and focused, while Reader is (a lot) better with people and social skills. I think them being together changes them both for the better cause they can learn from each other's personalities and bring out the best out in each other (but also the worst, of course).
Let's say that in their future they definitely learn to focus on bringing out the best and not the worst in each other ;)
Do you think you'll ever continue their story?
Never say never, but there's no plans to write more for them for now. I don't think I've written many sequels over the years, but I love writing different ideas and dynamics between two characters and once they are together, it's like "my work here is done."
Do you have a personal favorite story (on ao3 or Tumblr) you'd like to share?
My absolute favorite story is from a previous fandom that I'm not in anymore, but I have to share that one as it is the single most beautiful thing I've ever read. It was the fic that pulled me into the fandom. It's a Stucky story and it's called Not Easily Conquered, known as NEC in the fandom.
It will crush your soul and heal you and I will give anyone the same advice I got before I read it for the first time: be prepared because this one will hurt. I cried for like a week after I read it and I don't cry easily so this one should come with a warning. But it is absolutely worth it!
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Do you have another story in the works?
The only thing I'm working on right now is a Felix Catton x Reader story called Pretty Little Liars. Two chapters have been posted and I'm working on the next ones, but it may be a while as life has been a bit full on here lately.
Would you like to share a snippet of what's to come?
“I think he has a little crush on you,” you stated while Felix opened the door to his room and let you step inside first. Felix shook his head but the little blush on his cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you. “It’s not like that,” he denied, “He’s just…a bit lost and I’m trying to be his friend.” “You sure that’s all he wants?” “Yeah,” he laughed, “Ollie doesn’t want me, he just wants to be like me.” “If you say so,” you sighed, not convinced. Felix grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you down to sit on the side of his bed, leaning forward to look into your eyes, “Hey, come on, don’t ruin this by becoming jealous.” “I’m not jealous, I’m…concerned.” That wasn’t a lie. Jealousy was never a factor, you knew right from the start that Felix would never truly be yours, you would always have to share him with the rest of the world. And you always accepted that. But the idea of sharing him with Oliver somehow made your blood boil. Felix kneeled down in front of you, eyes locking with yours as his gaze darkened and he smiled that irresistible smile of his. “Now, did you come up here to chat about Ollie, or to get your pussy eaten, hmm? Cause I can’t do both at the same time.” His lips connected with your knee, kissing your skin softly and you bit your lip and sighed deeply, “Fine, I’ll shut up.”
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lokisgoodgirl · 9 months
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Asgard's Greatest Lover [Brodinsons]
Part of the Brother Collection A link to my regular Masterlist is HERE Summary: An offhand comment leads to a salty trip down memory lane. (w/c 1.4k) Warnings: Squabbling. D*ck measuring contests to fluff. Implied smut references.
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“Loki, she’s looking over-” Despite best efforts to ignore it, the meaty elbow jostling the god’s ribs made him wince. “Loki, look, in the stand yonder. She’s looking, Loki- look” Thor boomed excitedly, bouncing in his seat. “Will you desist?” Loki spat, hissing under his breath.
He could feel blood warming his cheeks, the volume of Thor's attempt at subtlety making him wish a portal would swallow him whole. He shouldn't have come. He didn't even like tennis. And yet, as always, here he was. With his public embarrassment of a brother. Loki grimaced as Thor began to point.
“But look hence...she noticed you! Perhaps she wishes to bid us good day.” He began to raise his arm, the start of a floppy wave which would likely be seen from space. “Wave, Loki- look, brother, see-!” Loki’s hand shot out, forcing the over-excited gesture down. “She’s wondering if you have utterly lost control of your faculties, brother;” Loki snarled, trying his best to look menacing. “As am I.”
Thor chortled, straightening a muscle vest which was three sizes too small. “Oh, Loki. You never have been very good at this sort of thing,” he sighed, letting his enthused gaze roam up and down the pristine grass court as Stark Industries friends and family took their seats. “It truly is a boon that you have one such as I to guide you in this romantic endeavour.” Loki raised his brows. He knew he shouldn’t take the bait. Especially in public. Especially today. But it was just too tempting.
“Whatever could you mean, brother?” he crooned, giving his most stoic side-eye with a tilt of his chin. He felt Thor bristle, telltale nervous fingering of blonde strands behind his ear letting Loki know the warning pitch of his voice had hit as intended.
“Well, Loki, it’s no secret that your love life has been fraught with unfortunate malaise where seduction is concerned,” “Unfortunate?” Loki said coldly, “I wouldn’t call a reputation as Asgard’s greatest lover unfortunate.”
Thor spluttered, shaking his head with sanctimonious laughter. “Ah, my little brother. I do admire the unshakeable esteem with which you hold your delusions.”
The dark brother’s grip tightened on the bleacher bench. “And I suppose you believe that title belongs to you, does it?” he sneered through gritted teeth. Poison flecked the words, dripping from his tongue like venom from a fang. Thor’s eyes narrowed. “I have the relic which proves it,” he shrugged.
“The one our mother gave you in solace when Jane left?” Loki snarled, “Pathetic. I doubt she even knew what it truly meant, just echoed your boorish claims thinking it was based in chivalry,” he paused. “At least, I hope that was her intent.” They stared at each other in pregnant silence.
“It matters not that mother gifted me said ceramic receptacle,” Thor said through gritted teeth. “What matters is, that my legend reaches far beyond the bifrost to bedchambers across nine realms, brother.” A shit-eating grin spread across his face. “Whereas yours is rather more contained to the palace servant quarters.” “That was one instance,” Loki spat, “and she was the most comely chambermaid we’d ever had.” “I’m sure,” Thor huffed, rolling his eyes. He brought one fist in front of Loki’s face, flexing an ostentatious bulge of bicep. “I was too busy giving the princess of Nilfheim a shudder of my very special thunder to notice.” He smirked, delivering a slow wink to punctuate his prowess. “She was never the same afterwards, you know.” Loki stared open mouthed, before he burst into raucous laughter.
From across the court, Steve immediately stood with a snap; hands on his hips with the most uptight death glare Loki had ever seen. “This is tennis,” Steve squawked. “For gosh’s sakes, have some respect.”
Through tears of mirth, Loki saw you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle. She recognises that Rogers is ridiculous, he thought. Good. That’s good.
Regaining his composure, Loki straightened. He smoothed his hair behind his ears, picking up the gauntlet his brother had carelessly cast down.
“Never the same. Quite.” he mused thoughtfully, collecting himself. “I can believe that your relentless dry-thrusting, lack of imagination and moans which sound suspiciously like the name of your talisman would scar her for life, yes.” “Leave Mjölnir out of this,” Thor snapped. Loki smirked, eyes wandering casually to where you sat. “The rumours are true then. Interesting.” he murmured slyly. Thor crossed and re-crossed his legs, the bleacher creaking beneath his weight. “She was perfectly satisfied,” the blonde grumbled, shifting his feet. Loki snorted. “Brother, you could not satisfy a woman if the key to unlocking her pleasure was written in parchment and propped upon her belly.” Thor stared, blankly. “Ah, yes – I forgot. A woman’s pleasure is not your forte is it,” Loki sneered, casting a quick glance towards his brother’s reddening face. “From what I heard, your attempts have been tragic at worst and laughable at best-” “Loki,” Thor warned, glancing anxiously at the people filling the seats behind them. But Loki continued, un-phased.
“Did you truly think you were to rub it with your chin?” He let out a harsh ooo, before sucking the air between his teeth.
“Those unfortunate women,” he drawled with feigned solemnity. “They didn’t want to hurt your feelings. ‘Asgard’s greatest lover’...please.” Thor tried to speak then thought better of it. Loki felt the glee begin to rise in his chest as he tasted victory in the air. “I felt moved for her when she hobbled from your chambers, poor thing. What did she cite for her impromptu departure, I wonder? Headache, was it?” He looked at his brother. The glazed look of bamboozled betrayal in his eyes told Loki that he was in fact, correct.
“Thankfully, I had just run a rather luxurious bath for myself which the lady found most soothing to aid her discomfort,” Loki purred, throwing his scarlet-faced sibling a knowing glance. “She was very grateful for my healing hands. And other anatomical attentions.”
Thor stared with slack-jawed disbelief.
The dark-haired god flicked his keen gaze towards you again. He let his eyes track up the skin of your bare calf, glinting in the afternoon sun. Supple, he pondered; thanking the Norns for the light breeze which rustled your skirt. On cue, you sipped from a large water bottle. Loki smirked.
“I was not aware that I was now a figure of such...ridicule. How times have changed.” Loki frowned as his moment of voyeurism was disturbed by Thor’s quiet mewl. With a sigh of resignation he swivelled, their knees touching. He reached for his brother’s hand, lowering his chin with sincerity in his eyes.
“Brother, that is not so” Loki said softly, “you have always been a figure of ridicule.”
Thor let out a shaky laugh, nodding. “I can always count on you to cheer me, brother” he said, patting Loki’s hand. Loki nodded once in acknowledgement. “Perhaps the next time you think yourself above me in the art of seduction, you will remember this conversation.”
“One can hope,” Thor chirped.
Loki rolled his eyes, retracting his hand. Polite clapping erupted as the first of the day’s players walked onto the court, waving at the crowds. He could feel Rogers suspicious stare burning into him from the other side of the grass, but he paid it no mind. “You truly think the odds are in my favour, brother?” Loki murmured thoughtfully, nodding subtly in your direction.
The two of them craned to catch a glimpse, the figure of his affections now half-obscured by a sea of lesser bodies. Your demure facial expression gave nothing away, but a pat on the shoulder from Natasha soon made you break into a dazzling smile. How she is not a goddess, I shall never know, Loki pondered; feeling his heart melt into his stomach and transform to a sea of butterflies. The redhead nudged her chin upwards, urging you to look up where the two gods stood. Staring. “Gods,” Loki hissed regretfully, continuing to clap like a fool. There was nothing else to be done. The boorishness of his brother had once again drawn the wrong kind of attention. But try as he might, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Perhaps she has some magic of her own, he mused.
Thor’s elbow jostled against his ribs, “I told you, Loki” he chortled, “god of chaos or not, I would say that the odds are most definitely in your favour where your lady is concerned.” “Truly?” Loki breathed, his heart beating faster as you gave him a small, bashful wave. “Truly,” Thor said, giving his brother’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.
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Tags (if you'd rather stick with smutty stuff please let me know!) @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @superficialdomina @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @goddessofwonderland @muddyorbsblr @arch-venus25 @nine-leafclover
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Text
𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓞𝓷 7
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
Summary: When her friend doesn’t show up to an outing, Y/n is prompted to make a house call. But when the past comes to get back at them, she has to wonder: is she really capable of moving on?
IMPORTANT: Instead of having the huge warning paragraph here, for this chapter I want to put a little note in. This chapter of Moving On is a lot heavier and quite graphic. Mind the warnings. I will link a summary of the chapter above the series Masterlist link. It will not be an alternate chapter, but rather a summary of what happened in this chapter, without the details. Stay safe and mind your triggers.
Warnings: heavily implied potential suicide, breaking and entering, graphic depictions of gore, guilt, depression, background stucky, violence, crying, scars, yelling, discussions of: phantom limb pain, NON-GRAPHIC past sexual abuse (including assault), cults, suicidal ideation, car crashes, hospitals, funerals, death, past abuse (physical, emotional, it’s HYDRA, y’know?), and there's a slight part where it's implied that the reader is a lesbian but it's easy to ignore.
[ALT/Summary]
🌻 Series Masterlist 🌻
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𝐈 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞
“Hey guys!” You smile as you find your newfound friend group standing together outside the cafe.
They all greet you joyfully as you go to stand beside Wanda.
“The only person we’re waiting on is Bucky.” Thor notes.
“He doesn’t live that far away. He should be here by now.” Sam frowns.
“Call him?” You suggest. Sam pulls out his phone, holding it up to his ear.
“Nothing.” He murmurs.
Thor tries. Bucky doesn’t pick up.
Wanda calls, and Bucky doesn’t answer.
You try, and he doesn’t answer your call either.
Clint tries, and Bucky picks up on the second ring.
Sam rolls his eyes, and you and Wanda look at each other, smiling slightly.
“Hey, where are you, man?” Clint asks. You can’t hear what Bucky’s saying. “Okay, well..take care, then.” Clint lowers the phone from his ear, frowning slightly.
“Where is he?” Wanda questions.
“He’s at home. He didn’t really elaborate. I think he’s having a bit of a rough day.” Clint explains.
“And Steve’s out of town,” Wanda murmurs.
Sam nods at her. “Exactly.” He thinks for a moment.
Clint seemingly comes up with a plan. “Does anybody have their address? They live together, right?”
“Yeah. I have it. I don’t think he’d really wanna talk to any of us—besides, I know that I personally am not experienced in how to get through that kind of thing in a healthy way.” Sam replied.
“Me neither. I’m not the best with comforting others, so..” Clint shrugged.
“I doubt he’d feel comfortable with myself. I think it’d be best if one of you helped him.” Thor explained.
Wanda looked at you. And then everyone else looked at you, too.
“Okay,” you breathed. “Send me his address.”
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The apartment wasn’t too far away, and you were able to ride the elevator to the sixth floor.
It wasn’t hard finding Bucky and Steve’s apartment, considering Sam had given you his apartment number.
You knocked on the door. Once. Then twice. And then again a third time.
“Bucky?” You said, at a normal volume. You didn’t want to bother any of his neighbors. You called his name again, slightly louder this time. And then you began to worry. How could you guarantee that he was okay? He could’ve fell in the shower or something. Choked on food while he was home alone. Fuck, he could’ve hurt himself.
That thought sent you into a real panic, and you knocked rapidly on the door. Once more, he didn’t answer.
You placed your hand on the door handle. You weren’t usually the type to commit breaking and entering, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Though, how suspicious would it look to break the lock on his door? You’d never been to his apartment, anyone who looked in the hall wouldn’t recognize you.
But now was not the time to think about all that. You expected to have to force the door open, to sacrifice your shoulder to bust down the door. It would make an obnoxiously loud sound and would probably send the neighbors running out into the hallway to see what the hell was going on. And when you opened the door…
…it opened without any problems. You swung the door open, managing to stop it before it hit the wall. Looking into the apartment, you took in the decor. A comfy couch in the living room area, a nice kitchen, a few picture frames hung on the walls here and there. All Steve’s work, you were sure of it.
“Bucky?” You close the door softly behind you. Creeping through the apartment, you find there is no Bucky in sight.
You approached a closed door, which you assumed was a bedroom door. You knocked. “Bucky? If you’re okay just say something. Literally anything, please.”
Your eyes watered when you received no answer. When you open the door, what are you going to find? You weren’t going to be ready to find a corpse. That’s what you were sure of. But what if he was just asleep? That was a possibility.
You opened the door.
You immediately saw him. Or, the outline of him. He was curled up in a blanket, still in bed. You could see him breathing, his torso moving slightly with every breath.
“Bucky?” You whispered.
“Mm.” He answered back.
“It’s 1:54 in the afternoon. We were gonna meet up for lunch, what happened?”
He shrugs in response.
“Clint let you know I was coming, yeah?”
He nods, his back facing you. He doesn't turn to face you, and you shift awkwardly.
"He said you were having a bit of a rough day. Are you sick? Or is more of an..inside thing?"
He says nothing, and you frown. You look towards the curtains, a soft and gentle blue. Steve's favorite color, you remembered.
You hear a soft sniffle come from the bed.
"Are you..crying?"
"No," he disagreed, but you could hear the sadness in his voice.
"It's okay if you are," you stated. "You don't have to hide it."
"This fucking sucks," he laughed, and you could imagine a few more tears spilling down his face. "I mean, I feel like shit. I haven't left my apartment in days, my arm fucking hurts, and I can't even get out of fucking bed." He begins to laugh at the end, as if he's fed up.
You didn't really know what to say. What would Sharon do? Probably send a motivational instagram video, you thought. It made you smile slightly, but you pushed the thought away. Now's not the time.
"Where's Steve?" You asked softly.
"Lehigh, New Jersey. It's a small town, he's visiting a friend, Peggy."
"Have you thought about calling him? He's your roommate and your best friend, right?" You assumed that Steve normally helped Bucky get through his bad days.
"Boyfriend, actually." He sniffled.
"Wait, what? Since when?"
"Since three days ago," he chuckled.
"That's awesome, man." You smiled, stepping a few inches closer.
He nods, rolling over to face you. His face is puffy, his eyes a bit red from crying. The blanket slides down a bit, revealing his scarred chest. You notice the absence of his left arm and the scarring around his shoulder, but you don't dwell on it. Bringing your eyes quickly back to his face, his small expression reveals that he's grateful for this.
"When's Steve coming home?"
"Tomorrow. Around suppertime. He left three days ago, so." He said quietly.
"You should come stay with me. Just for tonight. It'll get you out of the house, and it might make you feel a little better."
"I don't wanna be a bother. You know, more than I'm already being."
"You're not a burden. You're having a rough time, and that's okay, it's human. C'mon, I've got a guest room. You're never too old for a sleepover."
"What, are we gonna paint each other's toenails?"
You gave him a goofy grin. "Damn right. And we'll talk all about boys or something." You laugh, and he does too.
“Hey. C’mon, I’m serious.” You say earnestly after a moment, shoving your hands in your pockets. “S’not just for you. I get lonely.” You make it sound like a joke, but deep down both of you know it’s true.
He nods after a second.
“I’ll be in the living room, yeah? So you can pack up and get ready or whatever you wanna do.” You began to make your way towards the door, and he nodded again, a silent ‘thank you’.
You sat on the couch, which was a light tan color. It was a pretty nice couch.
Bucky came out twenty minutes later, his hair wet and pulled back into a half-up half-down hair style. He wore a black hoodie and some black jeans, a backpack slung over his shoulder.
You smiled warmly, wolf-whistling for dramatic effect. “Lookin’ good Barnes.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He shook his head, but he couldn’t hide his smile.
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When you got to your place, the two of you grabbed a beer, plopping down in front of the couch.
“Do..you wanna talk about it?”
“I mean, it was just memories coming up, paired with phantom limb pain.” He explained.
“Drink. You know, if you want. It just seems like a ‘drink-and-talk’ kind of night.”
He took a sip of his beer, and you took a sip of your own.
“I was in the military until, well, you know.” He gestured to his prosthetic. “And then I accidentally joined a cult.”
You blinked, waiting for him to explain further.
“I guess they manipulated me or whatever, but I still fell for it. They were…weird. Always talking about ‘Insight’ and other propaganda. It was just..dumb. I just..needed something to belong to, I guess. They ended up giving me the first prosthetic I ever had. Not this one—this one’s much less…invasive.”
You nod, not sure if there was anything else you could say.
“They had their version of the electric chair. If you didn’t…do what they wanted you to do, they’d uh, punish you. Public whippings, the goddamn chair, more…graphic things. I was the newest member, shit always landed on me. One of the uh, higher ups, had a sex drive bigger than my will to live. Never a fun day for me.” Bucky said, shrugging as if trying to hide how it affected him.
“Then Steve reached out. Kept reaching out, that stubborn son of a bitch." Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. "Got me out of that situation. And then, well, here I am." He looked down at his hand, rubbing his pointer finger against his thumb. “My uh..sister and parents passed away while I was gone. Car crashes suck ass.”
You huffed a laugh. “Tell me about it.”
He glanced to the photo hanging on the wall. “Is…is that..?”
“Oh—yeah. Uh—it’s—well, y’know, it’s—uhm—yeah. It’s—yeah.” You sputtered.
Deciding that it was awkward if you didn’t say something else, you spoke up. "So...you and Steve, huh?"
Bucky rolled his eyes, grinning. "Yeah-huh."
"How'd you know? That..that you liked him?" You asked, and you were sure that you both knew there was more to this question besides your curiosity about Bucky's love life.
"I guess I didn't. I mean, we've known each other since we were real young, y'know. So I guess it was jus' always kinda that way."
"And..how'd you know he liked you back?" A certain woman popped into your mind, with her large doe-like green eyes and soft red hair.
"Cause he looked at me like there was somethin' worth lookin' at." Bucky drawled, making eye-contact with you. You were positive he was being earnest, based on his tone and overall demeanor.
Did Wanda look at you like that? Did you look at her like that?
“Huh,” you mumbled, nodding. You hoped he couldn’t tell what you were thinking. Somehow, deep inside you, you knew he could.
“So,” he took a sip of beer. “You and Wanda, eh?”
“Shut up,” you laughed.
“But seriously! You gotta tell me. Queer to queer, c’mon.” He nudged you with his elbow.
“Okay.” You sigh. “We went to a sunflower field together and ate sunflower-themed baked goods. At the end we called it a date, but I don’t know if that was meant to be romantic or not.”
“Oh. That’s…ambiguous.”
“Tell me about it.” You let out a breath, leaning your head back against the couch.
“But it was totally meant to be romantic. Very homo.”
“What?” You looked at him, but he seemed dead serious.
“Have you seen the way she looks at you? She looks so goddamn happy. And sure, she looks pleasant all the time, but not in the same way. It’s different.”
“Maybe.” You shrugged. You looked at him. “I just…I don’t know. I’m not even sure if I like her. I mean, I think I do. But I can’t tell if I like her or if I like how she reminds me a little of Nat.”
He stayed silent, waiting for you to continue.
"I'm not..trying to find another Natasha--that's...weird. I mean, they're super different. Natasha was older than me, just by two years. And Wanda's a year younger. She's more..bubbly. Like, the best way I can describe it is that Natasha's a deep red, and Wanda's a light pink. Just in like, vibes." You tried to explain. "Sorry, I probably sound crazy."
"No, it makes sense. Wait..what color are my vibes?" He chuckled, but you could tell he wasn't making fun of you.
"Mm...silver. And red. With hints of a greenish-yellow, like old-timey lighting."
"Huh." He nodded.
After a few more minutes, you both departed to your separate rooms. Bucky to the guest room, and you to your bedroom, as per usual. You fell asleep quicker than usual, but whether that was due to the alcohol or due to the comfort of having someone else in the apartment, you weren't sure.
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You awoke to the sound of glass shattering. Immediately, you were confused. Had Bucky gotten up to get a drink and dropped a glass? Had something fell?
Though you were tired, you wanted to make sure nothing important was damaged. That included Bucky being hurt.
You pulled yourself out of bed, slowly creeping out of your bedroom. The layout of your apartment was simple. No hallways, minus the tiny one that lead to the bathroom. You surveyed the dark living room, immediately finding the source of the noise.
Your window had been smashed. And in your living room, a few feet from the couch you’d just been sitting against, was a figure. Not Bucky, you were positive. From what you could see, the figure was wearing all black, and sported the unmistakable curves of a woman.
Your blood ran cold, your legs locking up, keeping you in place. Your mouth went dry, and you could hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. You screamed, hoping that doing so would potentially let someone know that you needed help. And, worse case scenario, that you were murdered. That you didn’t do it yourself. That you wanted to live.
The figure rushed toward you, shoving you to the ground before pinning you there. She slammed a hand over your mouth as you writhed under her. You let out muffled screams and mangled growls, not wanting to go without a fight.
“What the hell?” Bucky walked out into the living room, wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing before, minus the fact that he’d changed from a hoodie to a t-shirt. The absence of his left arm was much more noticeable now.
He quickly peered over the couch, his eyes widening in fear as he found you. “Fuck!” He exclaimed, immediately racing for you. You’d forgotten about his military days; the ones that had clearly set him up with a faster speed and a stronger body.
He ripped the woman off of you, and she let out an animalistic shriek in protest. They wrestled for a moment, before she slammed her boot against his face. He groaned, backing up. She ignored him, beginning to stumble toward you. You got a clear look at her this time. She was wearing a black mask, one built similar to one you’d see a surgeon wear.
She dashed at you again, but this time you were more prepared. You grabbed anywhere you could—her hair, her neck, her ears—and the two of you tussled for a few moments. You grabbed her mask, ripping it off her face and shoving her backward as you stumbled in the opposite direction.
Bucky was clutching at his bloody nose, and you resisted the urge to gag at the red stain that covered the front of his shirt, going from just under the neckline to his chest. You’d seen blood before; you were a woman, and it’d be a real inconvenience to be scared of blood. But the scenario only made your uneasiness worse.
You stared at your attacker’s revealed face, before it dawned on you.
“Yelena?”
She glared at you, chest heaving as she was out of breath. You were sure that you didn’t look any better.
“Why the hell are you here?” You stressed, brows furrowing.
“You know what you did. And now I’m going to kill you for it.” She brandished a knife from her pocket, twisting it around in her fingers.
“What the fuck are you talking about? Yelena, I haven’t seen you since—since—“
"Hello?"
"Hello, is this Ms. L/n? I'm calling from Westview Hospital."
“—since you left me to find my sister dead? Since you left my parents to find their oldest daughter with her face half melted off? Since then, Y/n? What, did you think we just wouldn’t find out?” Her voice steadily rose in volume.
"She was in a car accident, ma'am." Dr. Christine Palmer told you. "We had her in surgery--Dr. Strange and I operated on her ourselves. She's unstable, but there's a chance she'll pull through. We just have to hope for the best."
Natasha, your beloved Natasha, was sitting in a hospital bed. She was unconscious, and you wondered if that was for the best. The skin on her face was burned, stitched up but still seemingly melting.
Dr. Palmer left the room, leaving you alone with her. You sobbed for what felt like decades, before you realized that her family hadn't been alerted. That was up to you. And that only broke you more.
“You don’t understand! I couldn’t—I just—“
You'd ran. It was true, you had run. You'd scribbled Yelena's phone number on the tiny notepad in Nat's hospital room before you raced out. You didn't know what else to do.
“No, you don’t understand! You’re a fucking coward, you sick son of a bitch! You couldn’t even face us after what you did! You didn’t even show up to her funeral!” She shrieked, and then everything went quiet.
You hadn't gone. That was also true. You couldn't bear to show your face after the whole hospital incident. And that wasn't to say that you'd never been to her grave, or that you hadn't left flowers and other small trinkets, because you'd done those things. But you hadn't been there to grieve with the rest of her family. Sometimes you regretted it, other times you pushed the thought away before you could dwell on it.
Bucky had gone; you had no real defense against her anymore. He’d most likely went off to the bathroom to avoid bleeding on the kitchen floor.
“…You don’t get it.” You muttered.
“I bet you don’t even care! You’ve already got some random fucking guy you’re sleeping with!” She shouted at you. “You never loved her! Say it!” Her eyes watered, and you could hear her sadness seep through her voice.
"I did love her! I loved her with everything I had!" You felt your own eyes water as your throat burned.
"Then why did you run away?"
You didn't have an answer to that. Not really. She let out a quiet sob, turning her head to look away from you.
"Because I was scared, Yelena. I didn't know what else to do--I wanted to call you. I wanted to be there, I wanted to reach out, but I was scared. And I've regretted it every day." You pant, tears streaming down your face. “Yelena, I was going to marry her. I’d already bought the ring.”
“You’re pathetic.” She gasped, crying softly. “You’re so pathetic.”
You gave her a nod. “I know.”
“She would’ve never said yes.” She wept bitterly. You both know that that’s not true.
“She already had,” you admitted.
“Ask me later, you goof. You know what I’ll say. But I want you to ask.” Natasha smiled one Sunday morning in the middle of summer. “I love you, you know that?”
“I do.” You grinned. “What kind of ring are you thinking?” You watched her clean the dishes.
“Whatever you’ve already got. You’re not very sneaky, Y/n.” She chuckled. You wrapped your arms around her waist, your chin resting on her shoulder. “But I’d let you propose to me with a ring pop. Not many people get that chance, y’know.”
“I am proud to be blessed with that honor. Now, you want blue raspberry or berry blast?” You teased.
“Why would she spend her life with you? Why do you deserve it?” She sniffled.
“I don’t.” You let the tears pour from your eyes.
“She died because you let her.” Yelena blamed you.
“I fought for her to quit that stupid fucking job. She hated it.” You remembered how much she’d assure you of that fact. But she had friends at her job. She couldn’t just leave them behind. “I fought for that. But she was better at arguing than me. She was better.” You nodded to yourself, resisting the urge to sob hysterically.
“You should’ve fought harder.” Yelena growled.
Without thinking, you let out a whistle just as it seemed she was about to rush and stab you.
“…She…she told you about that?” Yelena stopped.
“Me and Yelena would do it when we were kids. We used to pretend we were spies, and that was our ‘signal’. Then it just kinda became a hello-goodbye thing.” Natasha played with your hair as you laid on her chest. With her other hand, she fiddled with the sheets. “She told me that when she moved away to college, the only thing she could think about was leaving you. She loved you, Yelena. That never changed. She loved you.”
Yelena sobbed. She lowered herself to the ground, too overwhelmed with grief to keep standing. “You got to spend so much time with her.”
“I know.” You nodded, crying yourself. You stepped closer to her, kneeling beside her before wrapping your arms around her.
“It shouldn’t have happened this way,” she lets out a shaky breath. “If I had been there, I could’ve changed it—I could’ve fixed it, I could’ve—“
“Nobody could’ve stopped her. She’d go to work in eight feet of snow with nothing but roller blades to get her there. You know Natasha.” You cut her off.
"I loved her. I loved her so much." She cries.
"I know. We all did." You rubbed her back soothingly. She sobs in your arms. You hold her tightly.
“Goodbye, Y/n L/n.” She whispered after a moment, standing and retreating towards the door.
“Goodbye, Yelena.”
Goodbye, Natasha.
“Fuck, my window’s still broken.”
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A/n: bit of a long chapter, eh? Also, just in case you haven’t seen it yet: I’ve got the moving on playlist (Spotify) and the moving on Pinterest board!
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Anywhere but Westview: alternate futures for Wanda if someone, ANYONE, had actually looked out for her after Endgame:
Clint takes her in and she lives with him and his family, eventually meeting Kate and Yelena
She throws in with Sam and Bucky and helps out against the Flag Smashers
She ends up bonding with Peter Parker and eventually accompanies him against Mysterio and the Multiverse (also, I only just thought of this, but Wanda meeting Quentin Beck would be pretty interesting, as he could try to sway her with their mutual hatred of Tony).
She accompanies Steve to put back the Stones and convinces him to return to the present instead of going back to the 40s.
T’Challa and Shuri, feeling guilty over not being able to save Vision, invite her to stay in Wakanda, and she eventually helps Shuri against Namor.
Peter Quill invites her to join the Guardians because he wants a buffer between Thor and himself and she ends up becoming close with the crew, especially Rocket and Nebula. (While I would love to imagine her written into Volume 3, I respect Gunn too much to pollute his story.)
Scott asks her if she wants to meet Cassie, and she ends up bonding with the Lang family, eventually going with them to the Quantum Realm and battling Kang
Bruce offers her help to make amends between the two of them, and she goes with him to Sakaar
Strange is fascinated by her powers and invites her to Kamar-Taj
Rhodey, seeking to make amends with her in a way Tony never wanted to, offers her a place to stay.
If anyone wants to try their hand at making one of these a full fanfic story, be my guest.
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