As requested by anonymous: Single!dad chubby bucky x single!mom reader with sons maybe a blind date or something like that
Warning: very very light smut
You looked at your twelve year old son in disbelief, "You what now?"
"Mom, trust me! It's all planned out!"
You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed, "Mason, you seriously set me up on a blind date with your friend's dad?"
"Yeah," he answered and stepped closer to you, "Mom, I know how lonely you are and you say you don't have time to go out and find a date. So I found one for you! JJ's dad is cool! He's smart, he works at Wakanda Inc. so you KNOW he's makes bank!"
You loved your son. You really did. He was just looking out for you. You groan and sighed, "Fine. When's the date?"
Mason immediately lightened up, "Yes!" he punched his fist in the air, "Friday night! JJ and I already talked to Riley. Uncle Sam and Aunt Sharon said it's okay for JJ and I to sleepover!"
You groaned again, "Sam and Sharon know about this too?!"
Your son shrugged, "Honestly, they encouraged us to set you and JJ's dad up in the first place."
You rolled your eyes and murmured, "Of course they did," you shook your head, "Fine. Tell JJ to tell his dad I'm game if he is."
Bouncing with excitement, Mason whipped out his phone, his fingers immediately typing away to his friend.
JJ's dad told JJ who told Mason who told you, that the date will take place at a bar and restaurant called Fury's and he will meet you there at 7pm.
Well due to your anxiety, you arrived fifteen minutes beforehand. You went to the bar to get a drink to calm your nerves. Hopefully JJ's dad, who you learned his name to be James, would know what you're wearing. Mason took a picture of your outfit before you left to send to JJ to show his dad.
You sipped on your drink, mindlessly watching a baseball game play on the tv.
"Excuse me?" you felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned around to be met with the most handsome man you've ever seen.
He had brown shoulder length with a beard to match, some grey and white scattered around. He wore a tight black shirt and dark blue jeans that showed off his thick arms and thick thighs.
You looked back up to see the man smirking at you clearly checking him out, "S-Sorry, um, you must be James."
He chuckled and held out his hand, "That's me, but call me Bucky."
"Well, I'm clearly Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Bucky," you responded as you shook his hand.
"Likewise," he murmured and didn't shy away from checking you out, "The picture Jay showed me really didn't do you justice."
"I guess I could say that I'm not disappointed either," you retort with a smirk and Bucky laughs, "Straight forward. I like that," he places his hand on your lower back and helps you off the stool you're sitting on, "I already grabbed us a table. Shall we?" His hand in yours, he lead you to a booth at the far end of the restaurant, you could already feel the butterflies in your stomach.
You woke up to an alarm. You groaned pulling the blanket over your head to drown out the sound.
"I got it, sorry," you heard a gruff voice. A body leaned over yours, turning the alarm off. You peaked your head out from under the covers to see Bucky staring down at you, "Mornin' beautiful," and he pecks your lips.
You hum against them and murmur, "Morning," and you cuddle into his chest, your fingers drawing shapes into his rounding belly, "What time is it?"
"Eight. I told Sam I'd pick Jay up at noon."
You then looked up at him with a tired grin, "That confident you were gonna take me home?"
He gave a low rumble of laughter, "No, sweetheart. But I always like to be prepared, just in case," he gave you a wink.
"Do you have plans?"
"Nope. I'm yours until noon," he rolls you over so he's on top of you, he's grinding his hips down onto yours and you gasp. Bucky leans down, kissing your neck, "I liked how you moaned my name last night. Let's see if I can do it again."
As soon as you and Bucky turned up to Sam and Sharon's, your boys immediately asked, "WELL?! HOW'D IT GO?!"
You rolled your eyes and Bucky chuckled, "Well," he wrapped his arm around you, "I think we'll be seeing each other a lot more."
"YES!" JJ and Mason high fived each other, making everyone laugh.
Sam walked over, hugging you and Bucky, "We just made lunch. Wanna join and you all can head out afterwards?"
"Sure!" you both replied.
Mason, JJ, and Riley all rejoiced because that meant they could hang out with each other longer. They made their way to the dining room, leaving you, Sam, and Bucky alone.
Sam, after making sure none of the kids were around, then asked, "You guys slept with each other, didn't you?"
"What the hell, Sam?!" both of you swatted at your mutual friend and he backed away.
"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!" he fixed his composure and then grinned, "But Shar and I KNEW you two would be a great fit!"
You crossed your arms over your chest, "Can't believe you got our boys involved in this though, Sammy."
He held up his hands and then shrugged, "Not sorry, but can I just say...both of you look a lot happier now."
You and Bucky met eyes and then eventually shied away, feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks.
A week later, you and Bucky went on another date and you ended up in his bed once more. Same with the week after that and after that and after that.
Two months into your relationship, there wasn't a week where you didn't see Bucky.
You woke up one morning and felt the other side of the bed was empty. When you heard the bathroom door open, you rolled over and watched as Bucky walked out of the bathroom. Steam was rolling out from the threshold, his damp hair was tied into a bun and a towel was tied under his belly.
You wolf whistle at him as he nears the bed, "Damn, Buck, that's a sight to see."
He chuckles as he bends down and kisses your lips, "Mornin', baby," he then lays on top of you, nuzzling his face in your neck, "Sam was right."
"I'm much happier now that I'm with you."
You wrapped your arms around Bucky and held him tight, "Same here, Bucky. Same here."
📠 Can you hold down a regular job/education on top of heroing?
Sort of? The past few years have made things... pretty complicated, suffice to say. Let me explain:
When I first started hero-ing, I didn't have too much trouble keeping up with my classes-- I admittedly already had a bad habit of putting stuff off until the last minute (yet still making it through alright), so the hero stuff mostly just slotted into the space that was already there. The only major shake-up I had through my college years was after the evil me from 42711r dropped in and decided to rip my Shard and soul out of my body. Let's just say... my body didn't really take the rough separation all that well, so even after I made it back to my body, it took longer to heal than most of my usual combat injuries. Ended up staying in the Avengers' med wing for a solid month, and between physical therapy and the general healing process... well, it was kinda hard to keep up with my classes. I ended up dropping half of them to avoid stressing myself out, and took an extra semester the next year to make up those credits. So I guess, aside from that bit of re-shuffling, the education side of things was pretty stable.
The job side of things, though... let's just say it's had quite a few roadblocks.
By the time I got out of college and started looking around for work, I'd been dealing with an existential case of writer's block-- I'd been living with a shattered soul for well over six months (though that's a story for another time), and though it was functionally doing its job, my creative drive was just... broken. So I ended up settling for doing some freelance editing between all the hero stuff... which, in of itself, got interrupted after what those amber shards from Itzi's blade did to me. Wasn't able to bring myself to do much of anything for a while after that.
But now my soul's been fixed up, and though I'm still mainly doing freelance jobs at the moment (which, since I'm the one scheduling my own time, makes it easier to fit in between hero stuff), I'm considering whether or not I should try to get a job... well, somewhere. Not sure where exactly yet, but... I dunno. Over the past year, I've sort of realized just how much of my life is wrapped up in hero-related stuff, and Strawberry has told me that getting some sort of hobby or job outside of that sphere might help with balancing out my life a bit. So who knows? Maybe whatever job I go for will help me on that end of things.
Hi, I’m not back right now, but it was just brought to my attention by my friend that dark!fic writers on here are getting some hate and I just want to say something. Just because you write something doesn’t, mean you are a bad person, just because you read something doesn’t, mean you are a bad person either. So many of the writers who I follow and who follow are some of the most amazing people in real life! I started reading dark!fics as a way to cope with what I went through, it was a form of therapy, was it an ideal way? No, but it helped me, deal with my trauma on my terms and honestly I owe a lot to the dark!fic writers. They did more for me than my first 3 therapist did, after the trauma I went through as a teen. Most stories here on tumblr are tagged with trigger warnings (tw’s:) letting you know what to be aware of helping you avoid a story so you don’t read it! As consumers of fanfiction its up to us to block our triggers, to read the descriptions the writers should be giving us (there are some who do not give descriptions, those stories I don’t even bother to read.) and decide if it’s even worth it. Don’t be attacking writers on tumblr, Wattpad, AO3, FF.net or anywhere you consume your content, telling them to off them self, that in itself is triggering and disgusting behavior.
Hey Writer! Keep writing and being your amazing self because I’m so thankful for you for supplying us readers with content, and writing inspiration!
Description: Odin of the kingdom of Asgard has agreed to an alliance with Y/N’s small, troubled kingdom, offering his heir, Loki, as her husband. However, Y/N soon finds that this alliance is not the simple solution she had envisioned, and Loki is not the husband she would have wished for.
Word count: 1.2k
A/N: Heyo! So this was inspired by a TikTok, which was inspired by the show Reign, so it’s just a little one-shot, and it’s all angst. Let me know if you want me to make this into a longer fic (or maybe even a series???).
Loki entered his chambers, his gaze immediately landing on Y/N where she sat waiting for him. He said nothing, his eyes darting away from her. Shit. Then the talk with his father hadn’t gone well.
“What news?” She asked, knowing she probably didn’t want the answer.
“The decision has been made,” he said, shrugging off his tunic, leaving him in his loose, white undershirt. “We will push back the marriage while we continue peace talks with Khidd. My father has already agreed.”
“I haven’t,” Y/N said. “And I don’t care for any more peace talks. The Khiddish have been attacking my people and getting away with it for too long. Once we marry, we can unify our troops and force them out of Fianmoor.”
“It’s too much of a risk,” he said slowly, as if he were explaining something to a child. “We can’t gamble our troops prematurely when there is a chance we won’t even have to.”
“Gamble? It is a gamble for my small army, for the private mercenaries I’ve had to hire. But it is not a Gamble for the Asgardian army. You could banish them within a week, if you so pleased.”
“Well, we do not so please. So, this conversation is over.”
She gawked at his back as he poured himself a drink from a crystal decanter next to his bed. Completely unfazed, he eyed her as he turned around, sipping his drink and lifting his brows as if to say, why are you still here?
“And you’ve made this decision. Without any input from me?”
“We have to do what is best for Asgard. Fianmoor’s interests do not always align--”
“Bullshit. You agreed to an alliance with me. Asgardian and Fianmorish interests are one in the same.”
He took a long sip. “Not yet, they’re not.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again. Her approach wasn’t working. He wasn’t listening to reason; he was refusing to see it from her point of view. Fine. She would just have to force the problem onto him, make him realize she wasn’t the only one who would be burned by this decision.
“So what? You wait until Khidd has taken over Fianmoor and you have a useless alliance with a powerless monarch. What good does that do you?”
Something flickered in his eyes. Annoyance? Insecurity? A mixture of both?
“I said this conversation is over. You can see yourself out.”
“And what of the things you promised me? Not just my country, but me? You promised me a seat at the table; you promised me a voice. And now you would go back on your promise just to bow at every whim of your father?”
He set his drink down with a firm clink, standing up from where he leaned against the table.
“The decision has been made,” he said softly, crossing his arms over his chest.
Oh, she had struck a nerve. From what she had observed of the prince, Loki wasn’t the angriest when he was yelling, or screaming, or even assaulting someone. No. Loki’s true, unadulterated wrath was quiet and measured, and it was swimming behind his eyes right in that moment.
“I do not accept your decision.”
“And who’s decision will you accept?”
He clenched his jaw, eyes glued to hers as she stared back, unflinching.
“I am the future king of Asgard, I don’t answer to you.”
“I am the future queen, am I not?”
“Yes,” he breathed. “You are. And a queen respects her king’s decisions.”
“I will not offer respect when you refuse to offer it in return.”
He said nothing, turning his back to her and picking up his drink again.
“Unless you want a marriage like your parents.”
The muscles on his back tightened, his whole body going deadly still.
“Unless you want me to accept your abuse, and turn the other cheek, all in the name of respecting my king. Unless you want me to watch you grow more and more like your father--”
“He is not my father!”
She stumbled back a step as Loki whipped around, his voice bellowing. Maybe she was wrong about his rage being quiet, maybe this was what an angry Loki truly looked like. But as the echoes of his words died down, and he stood there frigid as a plank of wood, she knew this wasn’t anger. This was fear. She hadn’t just struck a nerve, she had torn it out of his body and put it on display for the both of them. His next words were soft, but there was no kindness in them.
“This marriage is a strategic political alliance, nothing more.”
The fear was gone, whether it had been replaced by his sudden indifference, or simply covered up, she didn’t know. But this conversation wasn’t over.
“Of course,” she scoffed, shaking her head. “How very like you to shut me down the second I get too close to the truth.”
“This conversation is over.”
“You do everything you can to distance yourself from your father because you’re terrified that you’ve already become him.”
“This conversation is over,” He said, his voice straining as he tried to refrain from yelling again.
“No, this conversation is bullshit, Loki! I don’t care who your father is, or who you are for that matter. All that matters is that I deserve respect and I will receive it, whether it be from you or from someone else.”
His breath caught. “You would threaten this alliance?”
“You already have.”
He shook his head, turning away from her and starting to pace. “You are out of your mind, Y/N. This is the sensible thing for both of our countries, and you don’t have any other options.”
“Don’t I? The future Plaghian king has already shown interest, and he has enough military resources to fend off Khiddish attacks.”
Loki paused. “You’re serious. You would leave this all behind, for-for what? Spite?”
“I would leave it all behind, leave you behind, for the good of my people. I will not have a frightened, cowardly child sharing my throne.”
He bristled, his fists clenching at his sides. “You call me a child, yet you are the one threatening to break off an engagement over a single argument!”
“I will do what is best for my people. And if you want a fighting chance for this marriage, this alliance,” she spat out the word as if it had curdled on her tongue, “then you will do the same.”
“What is best for my people is a queen who respects her king.”
“No, Loki, that is what’s best for you.” And maybe she should have shut up, maybe she should have called it a night, and left him to stew, knowing that he would probably try to compromise with her after sleeping on it. But he had already torn open their relationship, their agreement, so she said one last thing as she left, hovering by the door. “But what can I say, it worked for your father.”
He looked up, and there wasn’t anger or fear in his eyes. There was pain, the bottomless, all-consuming kind. A part of her longed to close the distance between them, to hold him until that pain had a bottom, and they could find it together, and she could pull him out.
But a much stronger part of her was bitter, and that part of her carried her from his room, hoping that pain would consume him whole.
Lmk if you want me to make this into a longer fic or a series :)
You’re stood waiting beside Mobius’s locker when you hear him and Loki approaching.
“Good enough for a face to face with the Time-Keepers?” Loki asks him.
“I didn’t say that.” Mobius replies with a chuckle. “One step at a time.” Loki nods,
“One step at a time, right.” Mobius pulls out a pair of knives, handing them to Loki who looks ecstatic.
“Just in case.” The moment Loki gets his hand on them, they’re pulled away from him.
“Absolutely not.” B-15 says, putting them away in her own locker. You can’t help but laugh, a sympathetic look on your face for Loki. “Gather round for a briefing.” She calls out. As you, Mobius, Loki, and the hunter task force gather by the Timedoors, B-15 begins the briefing. “Roxxcart is a vast superstore common to the era. It consists of a series of sprawling sections, including a large warehouse. This warehouse is being used by civilians as a shelter tryin' to ride out the storm. Remember, this is a class ten apocalypse. While the Variant shouldn't know we're coming, he could be hiding anywhere and should be considered hostile. So stay alert. Every time there is an attack, the Variant steals a reset charge. He's planning something. We just don't know what. So keep an eye out for the missing charges, and if you see a Loki, prune it.” You don’t like her word choice there, and you glance at Loki.
“The bad Loki, preferably.” He adds, and you smirk.
Taking a deep breath, you follow Mobius through the Timedoor in front of you. The rain is relentless, though you didn’t expect any less for such a horrendous disaster. You pull your raincoat tighter around you. Mobius keeps an arm around you, as you sway precariously with the violent winds.
“Anything?” He shouts to B-15. She shakes her head,
“Nothing. Move out!” She calls out, and you follow the task force as they make their way to the entrance to the store. The automatic doors open, and you quickly pull your hood down. You shake a little, trying to remove some of the water from your coat.
“So this is 2050.” You say, observing the inside of the superstore. “You know I’d be 54 now?” You tell Mobius, as you look out into the storm. You wonder where you are now. Where the right version of you is, who didn’t accidentally create a nexus event. Mobius looks down at you with a gentle expression on his face.
“Wow. You know I thought I saw a few grey hairs the other day-“ he starts, leaning to examine your head. You swat his hand away playfully, and he chuckles at you, glad to see you smile. B-15 clears her throat from nearby. You and Mobius turn to face her quickly.
“Take both teams and sweep the storm shelter.” She orders one of the hunters. “Loki and I are gonna check out the Green House. We'll meet-“
“No.” Mobius interrupts.
“[Y/N] you go with B-15.” You look at him with wide eyes. “Loki stays with me.”
“How do we know he’s not going to run off with the Variant at the first chance he gets?” She argues.
“He's under my supervision.”
“This is my field op, Mobius. If he's not a threat, then it won’t be a problem-“
“Of course he's a threat. Remember the Time Theater?”
“I want him with me.”
“What if I run off?” You say suddenly. They both stop arguing to look at you. Mobius frowns,
“If Loki ran off he’d be both in the future and on the wrong planet. This is both my timeline and my home. If anyone’s going to run off it’s me.”
“You’re not from Alabama.” Mobius states.
“I could get on a plane.” You argue.
“During a hurricane?” Loki steps between the two of you.
“Mobius, it's fine. It's fine. You can trust me. I understand I have to earn that, so I will.”
“Why is it the people you can't trust are always saying trust me?” Mobius says. “Okay, try to hang on to your Time Collar this time.” You and Mobius begin to walk in one direction, with B-15 and Loki walking the opposite way. The two of you follow one of the hunters until something attracts your attention. You pick it up and your face breaks into a wide smile. “[Y/N]?” Mobius calls out, concerned that you’ve trailed behind. He looks down at what you have in your hands. A Zoomer the Robot Dog. He sighs, “Is now the time for shopping?” You frown lightly at him.
“My sister had one of these.” You say, trying to sound nonchalant but you can’t help the feeling from creeping into your voice. He smiles softly,
“What did she name him?”
“Zoomer.” He nods, laughing quietly,
“Original.” You laugh too.
“Hey, it’s a cute name.”
“I guess.” He pauses for a moment, before adding gently, “You do remember we’re on a mission right?” You nod.
“Yeah, of course.” You set the box back down on the shelf. “Let’s go.” The two of you soon catch up with the hunters. You enter the storage warehouse, where there’s a huge number of civilians crammed inside, hoping to brave out the storm. Hunter D-90 pushes through the crowd,
“Check the bags for the reset charges. Could be any one of them.” A man approaches Mobius, asking him,
“You guys FEMA? National Guard? Well, hey, if you got a copter or other transport, now is the time to use it. We got women and kids, and that weather ain't playin.”
“No, I'm sorry. We don't.”
“Well, how the heck did you get here?” Mobius ignores him, moving towards D-90 who’s aggressively seizing people’s bags and rummaging through them.
“What are you doing? Hey! These people are scared.”
“They're about to die. They should be scared.” He replies, far too calmly. Mobius returns his state.
“Okay. Not of us. Take it easy-” One of the hunters returns, looking anxious as he calls out for Mobius,
“What is it?” You and Mobius follow the hunter as he leads you to a security office. Once inside you see C-20, the hunter who’d been taken by the Loki, tied up on the floor. She’s muttering to herself, a far away look in her eyes as she repeats over and over,
“It’s real, it’s real, it’s real. It was real. It was real.” Mobius crouches down in front of her, and you sit by her side.
“What's real? What's-“ Mobius starts.
“She’s off the dial.” D-90 mutters. You shoot him a frustrated look.
“Look at me.” Mobius says to her. Her eyes meet his and she says,
“I wanna go home.”
“We’ll get you home, I promise.” You tell her. Mobius nods, turning to one of the hunters,
“Call the TVA, let the infirmary know-“
“No, no, no, I gave it away. I gave it away.”
“What did you give away?”
“The Time-Keepers. Where they are. I gave it away how to find them.” Mobius reaches forward, holding her arm gently. You begin to untie the bindings around her ankles. Once you get her free, you and Mobius head out to look for B-15 and Loki.
“Is it standard TVA knowledge to just know where the Time-Keepers are?” You ask Mobius as you make your way back through the store. “Would a Variant be able to kill the Time-Keepers? Why would a Loki even want to go after the Time-Keepers?”
“Look I don’t know okay!” Mobius sighs, he begins to walk faster in agitation. You nod, clearly your questions aren’t helping.
“Sorry. Let’s just find Loki.” As you’re passing through an aisle B-15 calls out,
“Where’s Loki?” You ask her.
“I lost him.”
“What happened?” She shrugs, seemingly lost for words.
“Looks like your favourite Loki betrayed you.” D-90 reamarks. You roll your eyes at your least favourite TVA worker.
“Just move!” Mobius orders as the four of you begin to run through the store. Your group doesn’t make it far before the lights go out. You stop running as you’re plunged into darkness. Then the amber glow of reset charges surround you, a chorus of chirps ringing in your ears as they change to purple. You’re preparing to get disintegrated, until the charges slowly begin to disappear, dropping down through tiny Timedoors. “Where are they going?” you hear Mobius ask. Your TemPad pings and you quickly pull it out of your pocket. With shaking hands you bring up the timeline, watching in horror as an increasing number of branches appear.
“I’ve found them.” Mobius steps towards you and you hand him the TemPad. You both share a terrified look.
“Where’s Loki?” He asks, and your group sets off running again. You look through aisle after aisle, the red lights glowing down on you. Then you spot him.
“Loki!” You call out. Mobius is beside you as you both run towards Loki. Loki stands beside a Timedoor, looking back at you. He seems to hesitate, as he hovers by the door.
“Loki! Loki, wait! Wait! Loki, wait! No! Wait, Loki!” Mobius yells as you race to him. Then Loki passes through the door. As you and Mobius reach for him, the door closes. The group stops, and you turn away in annoyance. You were so close. “Damn it!” Mobius cries out. You turn back to face him. Well that could have gone a lot better.
A/N: Another Drabble of sorts for our up and coming CEO Sugar Daddy Steve! Listen though, @fandom-basurero brings out the baby hoe in me, like she just has to tell me to hear her out and I'm over here delivering her teaser filths left and right. So she told me to hear her out and I did, she wanted CEO daddy Steve to be getting some head and I said say no more, i’ll do what I can, and I have, enjoy sweet babes!
All Other Work Can Be Found On My Masterlist In My Bio.
‘You could give that man the world on a silver platter and he still wouldn’t blink an eye at you’
His thumb runs over your lower lip, “so goddamn beautiful sweetheart, look so beautiful on your knees tucked away between daddies legs.”
“Do you like the necklace I got you,” he murmurs fingers dancing along your buttoned blouse flicking away at the pearl like buttons that hold your shirt together, “looks awfully good on you, just like I knew it would,” he smiles, “you planning on telling me thank you, showing me just how much you like it,” he questions as his fingers hook on the silver chain pulling till he draws you closer between his legs.
Your body goes willingly, manicured hands laying flat on his parted legs as you shuffle closer wincing as the wooden floors burn the skin of your knees.
His thumb brushes your lower lip, your lips parting at the motion, “so good for me,” he breathes in the quiet after hours of his office, “you gonna take all of me today, keep me in that beautiful mouth of yours while I make a few calls?”
Your answer comes without hesitation, “yes daddy.”
His pink lips split into a mesmerizing grin, legs parting further, finger still hooked around your chain as he tugs you closer, “good girl, now the belts not gonna unbuckle itself so why don’t you get to work, clients don’t like to wait and neither do I, you can do that for me can’t you, get me out of my pants?”
Your nodding your head, nimble fingers reaching for the buckle of his belt, he takes your chin in his fingers freezing your movements, as he leans down to press his lips to yours in a chaste kiss, “be good for me and I'll give you anything your heart desires.”
‘I would have submitted my resignation the first day under Roger’s, he's an absolute ass, how you’ve lasted this long is by me, the guy obviously doesn’t know how to treat the women under him’
His favorite silk black tie is shoved in your mouth; “no one could compare to you y/n, you know that right,” he questions from behind your bent over form, “I might not say it enough - but you truly do go above and beyond for me don’t you,” he murmurs his hand landing roughly on your exposed back side, fingers kneading your ample flesh.
Your incoherent behind the material he’s managed to force into your mouth, “shh,” he hushes, smoothing over the sting of your skin, “don’t want anyone wandering in here do we, it might be after hours, but there’s likely to be a few stragglers,” he murmurs.
You let out a quiet whine, which earns you a husky chuckle, “missed seeing you today you know,” he continues fingers running along your skin dipping then rising. “Buck had you running errands all day, swear that punk is trying to steal you from me, I wouldn’t doubt it, I've heard the whispers.” His hands dip a little farther seeking out your heat, “been hearing a lot of talk from the others in this office that you should sign with him, take his offer, has he asked you to work under him, promised you things that I couldn’t?”
Your answer is muffled through the gag, though its not long that you have to wait before Steve is pressing into your back his hand reaching for the tie, pulling the material from your mouth, “what was that,” he questions.
“He has asked me to work for him,” you answer, “has promised me a better position-” Steve tsks, begins to move away, but your hand leaves the wooden oak desk grabbing whatever part of him you can reach to hold him in place, “but,” you continue, “there’s only one person I would rather be under, and it isn’t Barnes, he - he can’t give me the things that I truly want.”
The office grows quiet; and you almost worry that you’ve said something wrong, gone to far with the intimate thoughts you shared, but then Steve is moving so quickly his movements jar you. His hands find your hips turning you quickly your backside hitting the desk just as roughly as your front had the second you had been within arms reach of your boss.
He’s pressing into you, his erection straining against his grey slacks, warm hands finding your face, “and what is it that you want,” he questions blue orbs staring right into yours.
You lick over your bottom lip, heart thrumming away steadily in your chest a wild drum sounding in your ear, “you - I want you.”
A breathtaking smile kisses your bosses lips, his head finding yours, “my girl,” he murmurs his thumb once more running over your parted lips, “my sweet, sweet girl, you’re too good to me, more than I deserve.”
Now that it’s out in the air there’s a part of you that feels you need to say more, but Steve doesn’t give you the chance as his lips crash to yours, his tongue sliding past your lips to dance with yours.
“gonna give you everything and more,” he groans his hips grinding into yours, “gonna make sure my girl know how much she's adored, now lay back for me sweetheart, let daddy take care of you.”
You don’t have to be told twice, your clothed back meeting the chill of the wooden desk beneath you, hooded eyes watching, waiting for his next move. His eyes are locked with yours as his hands roam your body, hiking your already pressed up skirt further up your hips.
His hands leave the warmth of your body to work open his slacks, his hardened cock springing from the tight confines. He presses in close, cock head slipping past your folds drawing a low whine from your lips. He hushes you with a press of his lips to yours licking away at your groans till his his are flushed with yours.
“Shush now kitten, daddy’s gonna make you feel real good, gonna give you everything you could ever want and more.”
‘Barnes is willing to give you a raise y/n, a raise to get you to sign under him, it’s not like you’d be leaving the office, you’d just be working for someone nicer, take the offer’
You’re perched on his lap again, it’s after hours and there’s not another soul in the office except for the two of you, the way Steve likes.
The second you had walked in after receiving his call you had expected to find yourself on your knees, or your back on his desk, but he had surprised you when he pushed back his chair, patting his thigh.
Even more surprised when he shook his head at you when you tried to straddle his lap like you had many times before, ‘just sit down sweetheart none of that tonight’.
You didn’t question him as you took your seat, one hand circling your waist the other finding your cheek. The office grew quiet as you stayed like that staring at one another, “is - is something wrong did I do something,” you found yourself asking after a beat of silence.
He shook his head, thumb running along your cheek, “you could never do me wrong sweetheart, never but -” the words die on his tongue.
He licks over his bottom lip, you can see him considering his next words, his eyes meet yours, “you know I’d never hold it against you if you felt you’d be treated better under barnes right, nothing between us would change if you chose to work under him.”
“Do you want me to sign with Bucky, do you want me to take his offer,” you question.
“god no sweetheart I-”
“then don’t ask me too, I don’t care what others have to say,” you reply, your hand finding his stubbled cheek, “I could have reported you, and signed under Bucky the first time you asked me to fall to my knees for you, but I didn't - and its because I wanted this too, I wanted you.”
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth though its small, “you want me sweetheart?”
You roll your eyes, a similar smile pulling at your lips, “as horrible as you can be,” you tease, “I do - I do want you.”
His head finds yours, “what would I do without you?”
“Crash and burn probably, I doubt Bucky would hire another secretary after me you’re too much work,” you grin.
“I am aren’t I,” he chuckles, “think I should show you that I'm worth the trouble.”
Your head tilts to the side in question, though it goes unanswered as Steve ushers you up and off his lap. He moves the two of you around as he guides you back into the office chair.
He smirks as he drops to his knees before you, strong hands grabbing ahold of your thighs as he pulls you and the chair forward spreading your legs.
“Think its about time I show you just how good I can be for you, don’t you?”
“Here we go.” You whisper, looking between Mobius and Loki, then up at Mount Vesuvius.
“Shh, any minute now.” Mobius adds.
“Until this entire town is wiped off the face of this planet. Imagine. All that volcanic ash-“ Loki starts.
“I know. We don't want to get too giddy.”
“Oh, come on! It's cool.”
“No, it is cool, but it's just not in good taste because...”
“They're all gonna die anyway.”
“I know. Now listen, I'm gonna watch the TemPad for any variance energy.” He says, pulling the device out from his pocket.
“Okay, because we gotta be careful.”
“If you're wrong, and there's a good chance you are, anything we do can create a huge branch.”
“Oh, Mobius! You make even the end of the world sound boring.” Loki complains.
“Listen! Okay, we're not meant to be here.”
“And we don’t need Minutemen rushing here to arrest and delete us, okay?” You tell him. He nods,
“Anything we do can impact the course of history. Do you get that?”
“So we're gonna start with very small disturbances. Very small. Can you make bird noises?” You both frown at Mobius.
“Yeah. Bird noises. Like some, like whooshing noises?” He begins to imitate a bird call. You roll your eyes,
“Moby? I was on the side of caution. But we’re going to need more than that.” Mobius continues his bird impressions to the disdain of Loki who groans and runs off.
“Loki!” You hiss. He doesn’t go far, standing on a nearby cart and proclaiming to the people of Pompeii that they are all going to die. On a positive note you’ve come up with a new scale to rate nexus events: starting with bird noises and ending with prophesying the future. Loki then decides to release a hoard of goats. Fantastic. Loki halts his Latin monologue to look over at you and Mobius for a fact check,
“We are from the future, right? What is the TVA? I mean, it's from the future. It sounds from the future. It's pretty futurey.” You’re about to answer him when you realise you don’t actually know. You’d always assumed the TVA just existed outside of time. Though you’re not sure how that would work. You’re about to ask Mobius when the volcano erupts. Loki then proceeds to have what looks like an existential crisis. “Nothing matters! Nothing has any consequence! Dance while you still can!” You lean over Mobius’s shoulder.
“How’s it going?” You ask, nodding towards his TemPad.
“I don't believe it. Zero variance energy. No branching in the timeline.” He tells you. Overhearing what Mobius says, Loki approaches you,
“The TVA would never even know we were here. If it were me, this is where I would hide.” A colossal cloud of ash rolls down the hillside, quickly approaching the three of you.
“Erm, Loki, bud?” You say, concerned that he hasn’t noticed. You point over his shoulder, “You got a little something-“
On your return to the TVA, the three of you head to the archives, searching for all naturally occurring disasters. Turns out there’s a lot of them. Mobius hands you a pile of events from before you existed, which you appreciated. Whilst you were curious about what happened to the world after you left it, you’re not too eager to see the long list of apocalypses. After what feels like hours of searching the three of you decide to take a break.
You and Loki are sat in one of the TVA cafeterias, waiting for Mobius to return with some food. Two hunters pass by your table, and you keep your gaze on the papers in front of you.
“Why do they look at us like that?” Loki asks suddenly. You look up at him.
“Don’t act like you haven’t noticed. You and Mobius don’t get the looks that you and I get.” He observes. You sigh,
“That’s because when it’s me and you, they see two Variants possibly plotting to overthrow the TVA.” That shocks Loki.
“You’re a Variant.” He states, and you nod,
“I was set to be deleted, until Mobius stepped in and saved me.”
“You must be very grateful to him.”
“So you believe in the all powerful lizards which dictate the existence of trillions of people?” You smirk, looking down at the papers in your hand.
“I didn’t say that.” You glance up at him, recognising the look on his face immediately. He was scheming. “Look Loki, I may not be a hundred percent loyal to the TVA, but I am to Mobius.”
“Mobius, who is a part of the TVA, who you don’t fully trust. How can you know he has your best interests at heart?”
“I don’t. I’m just hoping, that he does.” Mobius soon joins the two of you. After a brief discussion about jet skis the conversation quickly turns far too philosophical for your poor ‘I’ve just read about a million case files’ brain.
“I don't get hung up on believe or not believe. I just accept what is.” Mobius says with a sigh. Loki looks at him incredulously.
“Three magic space lizards?” Mobius nods,
“Created the TVA, and everyone in it?” Mobius nods again. “Including you?”
“But not me.” You add. Loki laughs softly,
“Every time I start to admire your intelligence, you say something like that.”
“Okay, who created you, Loki?” Mobius asks.
“A Frost Giant of Jo
“And who raised you?”
Odin of Asgard.
Odin, God of the Heavens. Asgard, mystical realm, beyond the stars. Frost Giants. Listen to yourself...
It's not the same. It's completely different. No. It's not the same.
It's exactly the same thing. Because if you think too hard about where any of us came from, who we truly are, it sounds kinda ridiculous. Existence is chaos. Nothing makes any sense, so we try to make some sense of it. And I'm just lucky that the chaos I emerged into gave me all this... My own glorious purpose. Cause the TVA is my life. And it's real because I believe it's real. “Fair enough. You believe it's real.”
“So everything is written. Past, present, future. There's no such thing as free will.”
“Well, I mean, you know, it's an oversimplification...”
“But practically, yes.” You say, not wanting to hear the in-depth workings of the timeline.
“So, in fact, in a way, us three here at the TVA, we're the only ones who are actually free.”
“Where are you going with this, Loki?”
“How does it all end?”
“That's a work in progress.”
“Those lazy Time-Keepers. What are they waiting for?”
“Au contraire. Because while we protect what came before, they're toiling away in their chamber, untangling the epilogue from its infinite branches.”
“So when they're finished, what happens then?”
“So are we. No more nexus events. Just order. And we meet in peace at the end of time. Nice, right?”
“Do we get to live in peace or do we just disappear because we aren’t needed anymore?” You ask, suddenly concerned that he mentioned the end of time. Loki continues his own questions,
“Only order?” Mobius hums in response. “No chaos? It sounds boring.”
“I'm sure it does to you.” Loki suddenly changes the subject,
“You called me a scared little boy.”
“I called you a lotta things.”
“You did. You're wrong, though. You see, I know something children don't.”
“That no one bad is ever truly bad. And no one good is ever truly good.” Well that was deep. Mobius looks down at the table in front of him.
“Scared little boy.” He repeats.
“Yes, it was quite patronizing. I thought it was a bit too far, actually.” Loki admits. Mobius looks up, an idea dawning on his face.
“You're very clever.” He tells Loki as he stands up.
“I know.” Loki makes a ‘well obviously’ face as you stand and follow Mobius as he makes his way to the archive.
“The Variant left something behind at an old crime scene. A cathedral. A candy box. An obvious anachronism. I gave it to Analysis, but they couldn't find anything real.”
“Why does that matter?” Loki asks. Mobius unlocks a box on a nearby shelf, before opening it up.
“Cause now we have two variables. Apocalyptic natural disasters and... Kablooie.” He pulls out the candy box.
“Candy. Do you have candy on Asgard?”
“Yeah. Grapes, nuts.”
“No wonder you're so bitter.”
“There’s a massive vending machine near Renslayer’s office. One time, I’ll buy you one of everything.” You tell Loki as the two of you sit down at your desk. Mobius returns with a huge stack of files.
“Okay. Kablooie was only sold regionally on Earth from 2047 to 2051. All ya gotta do is cross-reference that with every apocalyptic event.” The three of you sit, sorting through the files for sometime. Mobius looks up at you,
“Well, it's not the climate disaster of 2048.” You tell him, flicking the page over.
“Or the tsunami of 2051.” Loki adds.
“Let's go. Let's go. Come on.”
“2050. The extinction of the swallow. Is that a thing?”
“We killed off the swallows?” You stare at Loki. “How the hell did that happen?” Mobius shrugs,
“Completely screwed up the ecosystem.”
“Krakatoa erupted in 2049 as well. No Kablooie.”
“God, it's just one damn thing after another, isn't it? Cyclone, famine, volcanoes, floods...” Mobius lists, and you can’t help but agree.
“Got him. That's where he is.” Loki pulls open a case file before offering it to you and Mobius. The two of you peer at the papers inside.
“Alabama, 2050.” You read aloud. Loki looks at you both, seeming rather pleased with himself. Mobius grins,
soo i’ve been planning a new bucky fic for like 3 months at this point, and i finally just finished the first chapter. it’s 6,624 words… but anyway it’s an AU. kind of like beach, surfer vibes. big outer banks vibes.
so would y’all be interested in a sneak peek, maybe i’ll make some mood boards and things also. what do you think?
Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Warnings: sad. this chapter is sad.
Summary: Soulmate!AU - Throughout life, you’re given glimpses of your soulmate through dreams. As you sleep, memories flash in your mind showing you the life your soulmate has lived. Everyone around you raves about how their soulmate reads great books or volunteers in their spare time. But you can’t relate as your dreams end up being more like nightmares. Through initial images of death and violence, you come to learn your soulmate is the Winter Soldier.
Masterlist | Series Masterlist
You were sitting at a stool in the compound’s kitchen when a familiar face walked in. Bucky had eventually explained to you that this was a sort of “headquarters” for the team. You felt a bit foolish having realized you never kept up much with these mighty heroes but you were eager to learn now. So far, you hadn’t encountered anyone you didn’t personally know on this famed team. Even now your eyes landed on the welcoming yet worried face of Steve.
“Morning,” you said, waving your fork before stabbing some of your scrambled eggs. Bucky had insisted on cooking for you despite your assurance you were fine but his cooking skills were....subpar. Still, nothing was inedible and you needed your strength back.
Steve reciprocated the greeting, saying your name with much excitement. “How are you feeling?” He added while making his way to the coffee pot. You chewed your eggs borderline viciously as you debated on an answer.
“I’m okay.” You gave a shrug, staring down at your plate. Part of you wanted to let more out but you ignored it.
Steve came back around to the counter, standing on the other side across from you. He held his coffee cup firmly, nervously almost. You could feel him watching you. That excitement he had said your name with felt like it was evaporating from the room slowly.
“That’s… good,” Steve said. “If you need someone to talk to we have plenty of resources and - and I wanted to say I’m sorry.”
You peaked a glance at him, confused. You placed your fork on the counter. “Sorry? Why are you sorry?”
“I worry I led them right to you,” he explained, “like you two were separated for a reason.”
You frowned. You hadn’t thought about this - heck, you hadn’t thought about blaming anyone other than the disgusted men with such joyous evil looks in their eyes.
“Steve, I don’t think there was any way anyone could’ve prevented this.” You pushed your plate of food away. “They had their sights set. They had a plan, an optimism. It may have just been the soulmate experience in this case,” you sighed. Steve mumbled your name, shaking his head, but you continued, “And that’s fine. Love doesn’t come easy, right?”
“Being kidnapped is not part of being in love.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t have an ex-assassin for a soulmate.”
Steve’s jaw went slack. You were staring him down now, practically begging him to say one more thing.
“It’s going to be okay,” Steve finally settled on. Ever the cool, calm, and collected star-spangled man. “You will recover and it’ll never happen again, we can promise you that.” His voice was serious as if every word ended with a period. You felt tears starting to well in your eyes. You wanted to say something, maybe ask for a hug or just… you didn’t know what, so you just sat there, slumped in your chair like a defeated puppy.
“Everything okay here?” A sudden voice made you jump. You and Steve turned towards the kitchen doorway where Bucky was standing, arms crossed, worry etched all over his face. It seemed to become his permanent expression now. Even when it was just you two, he always appeared on edge.
You nodded, turning back to collect your plate and take it to the sink. “We were just chatting.” You didn’t see the look you just knew Steve and Bucky were sharing.
When you turned back around to face the pair, Bucky had crossed the room, almost close enough to now be hovering over you. You flinched when he went to put a comforting hand on your shoulder. You didn’t know why as you clearly didn’t think he was a threat but hadn’t you seen how threatening he could be? You lowered your head, fighting off the thoughts. He wasn’t like that to you and he had proven it time and time again. Why was it suddenly different?
Before either of the men could comment on your sudden hesitation, you said, “I’m going to go take a shower.” They just nodded, letting you exit.
When you got out of the shower and back into the room the team had lent you and Bucky for the time being, Bucky was waiting patiently on the bed. You lingered around the space, picking out some pajamas to wear, acting as normal as you could. You took in the space, still amazed by it. It was fairly large with top-notch amenities, including a luscious bed, spacious dresser, and television from technology you weren’t sure existed for the general public. It even had access to your own grand bathroom, saving you some war flashbacks of the communal restrooms at college.
You dipped back into the bathroom and got changed. While your intimacy with Bucky hadn’t been on the shy side, you weren’t in that kind of mood right now. Rightfully so, you would say.
Emerging once more, you noticed Bucky had made a sort of resting area for you on the bed. Your side was surrounded by blankets upon blankets and soft pillows. He even had a movie queued up for you two to watch. He laid waiting, his eyes practically begging you to come to him. After giving your hair a final wring, you gave in and crawled into the soft bed, letting all of you just melt into it.
“How are y-,”
“Bucky,” you sighed, turning towards him. He was laying on his side, staring down at your curled-up form. “Please don’t ask how I am.”
He nodded. “I get it, doll. I’m just worried about you. You seemed alright yesterday but today…” Yeah. You’d taken a dive. Your whole mood had shifted. Heck, your views on the world had shifted. As dramatic as it seemed, you were having a hard time snapping back. You weren’t even gone for over two days and yet the smallest thing...
“I think it’s just all settling in,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “Maybe it was just shock yesterday or something but realizing what all happened… Gosh, this probably seems so foolish to you.”
Bucky began shaking his head profusely. As gently as he could, he took your hand in his. You welcomed the action as you shifted under the makeshift mountain of blankets. “Don’t do that, honey. Don’t try to dismiss it or think what you’re feeling is foolish. You went through something so terrifying. You’re allowed to react to it.” He took a deep breath. “When we talked yesterday, I think I thought maybe they hadn’t gotten to you. That nothing had happened that would leave you torn up but you saw… a lot.”
You knew he wasn’t talking about just being exposed to Hydra and their twisted selves. “I did,” you hesitantly agreed. “And I fear it’s going to take a lot to recover.” Your words felt like you were delivering punch after punch to Bucky but where were you going to get if you weren’t honest?
“Anything you need, sweetheart,” he mumbled, his thumb drawing soft patterns on the back of your hand, sending shivers through you. “I’ll do anything to make it better.”
You nodded, averting your gaze to where your hands were connected. Your hand was so tense but you hadn’t even realized you were squeezing his. You relaxed it slightly and Bucky’s motions stopped.
“Bucky,” you mumbled, “can I ask you something?”
He hummed in response.
“What do I offer you?”
You could feel Bucky’s eyes staring you down. No doubt a concerned frown was playing on his lips. “What are you getting at here, honey?”
You shifted uncomfortably. “When I was… you know… the - the older man said that he didn’t understand why we would be paired together. They were determined to figure out what I offer you. What makes me so special.” A beat. “I really don’t know the answer.”
Bucky sighed, shaking his head. You glanced up at him again, his eyes now holding a different kind of anger. You felt bad for doubting yourself but the insecurity from the words of some random guy settled into your brain.
After a thoughtful moment, Bucky spoke, “I don’t think you’ll ever fully understand what you give, not just to me, honey, but the world. You’re so fearless. You’re incredibly understanding. Not to mention how compassionate and bright you are…” His voice cracked slightly, breaking your heart a little. “You force me to remember that I’m not alone and I don’t have to be. And I just really hope I do the same for you.”
You could feel your own tears forming as you shifted just a bit closer to your soulmate. You weren’t quite touching but you could still feel his presence. It was as comfortable as you could get right now and Bucky seemed to respect that.
“I hope I’ll be okay,” you confessed. “Eventually.”
It quite amazed you how fast stuff could change within yourself. You woke up from being rescued with the more extravagant hopes and overwhelming relief of just making it out alive. But then you remembered the price of you making it out alive. What you had to witness to get there. And then the thoughts of actually being back in that position rushed over you. Needless to say, it was weird. Simply weird. Unlike anything you had encountered before.
Bucky soon nodded, encouragingly. You hated putting anything else on him but he had become part of the memories now. It was one thing to see him in dreams and another to watch it just feet away from you.
It’s your third week back in school and you're slumped over a tower of textbooks as some kind of makeshift pillow. Your head rests on the 394th page of “The Dream Oracle” where you’ve begun to drool. You raise a hand to wipe it away, which takes up nearly as much energy as trying to stay awake.
It was cold in the dark.
Chills ran up your arms, from your fingertips to your neck as you floated through the darkness. It was frightening the first few times you dreamt of it but now it was familiar. The cavern formed slowly as your eyes adjusted to the minimal light emitted by a fire below you. Small sticks and papers created a meager flame which reflected off the black pool of water you looked into. You always wondered who made the fire, but there was never anyone there.
In the centre of the cavern was a small lake, its ripples moved like serpents. On queue, your body flew over to the middle of the lake and dove in. You swam - more like sunk - to the bottom. It may have enveloped you in utter darkness, but you saw the glow. The bluish light of the object drew you in like a moth to a flame and you reached out for it. Once again, you were thrown out of the lake just as you were about to touch it.
You looked around at the empty cavern and noticed the shadows moving. This was new. Usually, you woke up as soon as the lake threw you out.
Near the shore, by a dangerous jut of rock, there was a man. He was tall, with raven black hair and a proud nose. His expression was one of wonder and fear. There was a green light that emerged from his hands and he waved this light in front of him and beside him, almost erratically, as if he was warning someone - or something - to stay away.
“Don’t come near me!” he shouted. It echoed through the cavern.
You came closer and recoiled at what he was speaking to. Every dark shadow was, in fact, a body. The green light that the man emitted showed their decaying, pale faces. These bodies moved towards him. Not a sound, but each expression was contorted painfully. Their bony hands reached out to him, and he threw a green ball of fire at them. Some flew backwards into the lake, but there were so many.
They surrounded him. You saw him put up the fight of his life, and yet they came closer still. Until he had nowhere to run. You reached out to try to help him, but your body was already being pulled away. The last thing you heard was him scream your name, “Freya!”
Hands slapped onto the desk, and your head bounced on the pages.
“My god, have you been sleeping here this whole time?” An annoyingly familiar voice said. “You wouldn’t believe it! They’re finally getting a replacement for Professor Rattowl.”
It took several seconds for you to remember where you were. You lifted your head and look into a pair of inquisitive brown eyes and an aloof expression.
Her hair was braided on the sides and drawn into a high ponytail. Her robes were wrinkled as usual. “Valkyrie, how did you find me in the Hufflepuff common room? I specifically told Thomas to throw you off.” Your voice was thick with sleep.
Valkyrie snorted. “Thomas is a fool for a flirty conversation. You’d think that boy had never had a wank before…”
The memory of the dream hit you, and your heart sank. “Valkyrie, I saw something.”
She glanced at you and then to the wall of the hallway. A long shadow approached swiftly. “Oh shit, the prefect!”
“Quick! Hide!” You said to Valkyrie, pointing her to the coat closet.
A gleaming head of blonde hair turned around the corner and walked towards you. His eyebrows were raised, and he adjusted his rectangular glasses, glaring at you. You tried not to look guilty.
“Eves, what are you doing? This is a quiet area, and I heard voices.” he walked around your desk, looking around suspiciously.
“I must have fallen asleep. I had a poor sleep last night so…”
“Hmmm,” he said, walking near the coat closet.
You held your breath as he reached for the brass door handle. “You know we don’t allow any other houses in our quarters, Eves.”
He turned to you, reaching away from the handle. “Then you also should know we don’t condone dirtying the sacred pages of our texts,” he said, gesturing at your books with a frown. “Clean this up and head to the Great Hall. Headmistress Frigga has announcements to make.”
He left, adjusting his glasses again but with his shoulders straightened out as if he had done a good job. You wondered if he would pat himself in the back afterwards.
Valkyrie all but crashed out of the closet and mocked Gerald. “Sacred texts! What a prat.”
You chuckled as she took a chair beside you. “Sacred or not, this damned thing cost me twenty galleons!” You wiped the drool away with the sleeve of your robe. The inside was a warm yellow. You glanced at Valkyrie. “How do you keep sneaking into our common room?”
She winked at you with a mischievous smile. “I have my ways, my sweet innocent Hufflepuff darling,” she said, reaching out and patting you on the head. “I wouldn’t dare want to corrupt your purity with treasonous talk.”
You punched her in the arm. “You are a jock in the land of intellectuals,” you said with a smirk, glancing at her red and gold tie.
She linked her arm through yours and dragged you away from the desk. “Alright alright, miss intellectual, now that you’ve stopped drooling, let’s go eat.”
The great hall was washed in the warm light of the candles that hung beautifully in the air above you. It was a sight that had never ceased to amaze you, no matter how many times you saw it. The flames flickered in a soft dance. You followed the path of candles over to the head table where all your professors sat.
Professor Odinson was there, with his chiseled youthful face that made all the ladies, Valkyrie in particular, swoon. He was a handsome man, though he did not occupy your thoughts as often as he did for others. Beside him was Professor Sif, laughing humorously at something Professor Odinson said. Then there was Professor Fandral nodding and smiling at Professor Hogun - whom you guessed was discussing the riveting growth cycles of the mandrake.
Headmistress Frigga was in the middle, in her silvery blue robes with sequins sewn into intricate patterns. Her aura was one of a Queen, with a gentle and kind face. On her one side there was an empty seat and on the other side was Heimdall, the divination professor, with whom she was in a deep discussion with. His sunset coloured eyes drifted around the room before settling on you. He always knew. You smiled back and waved at him. He nodded, though his expression was strained, perhaps even troubled.
For a moment you wondered if he knew what you had dreamed. Heimdall was one of the greatest seers of your time, and you happened to be his favourite student. He already knew of your repetitive dreams regarding the cavern, but you needed to tell him about the strange development - and the mysterious man you saw. Most of the time your dreams were fuzzy, but you remembered his face with an aggressive lucidity. Blue eyes that reflected the green magic in his hands before they disappeared into darkness remained on your mind. You took a deep breath and pushed it away.
“Did they already do the first years?” You said aloud to your table.
Mo, a fellow seventh year Hufflepuff, nodded. “Yep, and I guessed about 25/30, not bad, eh?”
You smiled at him and turned around to Valkyrie, who was right behind you, seated at the Gryffindor table. She winked at you when delicious food marvellously populated the table and you all tucked in. She filled her plate and then roughly rocked Mo to the side and sat down beside you.
“What were you saying about Rattowl?” You said, biting into a chicken hand pie. The rich flavour of creamy peas and carrots filled your mouth, and you reveled in it for a brief moment.
Valkyrie had half a mouthful of sausage and chewed loudly. “Well, it’s been what? A month since he croaked?”
A Hufflpuff girl across from you both, Nila, balked at Valkyrie. “How can you say that? He was...killed.” She could barely say the last word.
Valkyrie gave her a look. “What? It don’t make no difference, does it?”
Nila huffed indignantly. Mo interjected. “Well, it’s not every day a professor disappears for three weeks, only to be found ripped apart in the Forbidden Forest.”
You all wrinkled your noses in a few seconds of awkward silence. He was right. It was a bizarre and terrible thing to have happened. You had no love for Professor Rattowl. He was a cranky old man with awful manners, but he did not deserve such a fate.
Valkyrie said, “Well I heard that the Headmistress’s son is going to be the new potions teacher.”
You raised your brows. “Professor Odinson has a brother?”
Valkyrie’s eyes lit up at the mention of him. “If there are two Thor Odinson’s, then I will die this very moment.”
You, Mo, and Nila rolled your eyes at her when the doors crashed open in an echoing sound. All the chatter in the Great Hall was silenced when a lean and tall figure in a black cloak strolled into the room. His languid pace revealed a streak of arrogance - or confidence - as he walked down the hall, towards the head table. He walked between the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables and slowly removed his hood.
You audibly gasped when you saw the raven haired man with his high cheekbones and proud nose. His blue eyes snapped towards you, and you felt your face heat up in seconds. He kept his eyes on you briefly before looking back at the head table. You breathed again once he was well past you.
Valkyrie looked at you questioningly. She whispered, “what’s going on?”
You could not take your eyes off of him and whispered back, “later.”
Everybody at the table rose, and Headmistress Frigga spoke with her wand pointed at her neck. “We will never forget our dear Professor Hubert Rattowl and the legacy he leaves here. The tragedy of his passing will remain a bitter memory in the long colourful history of Hogwarts. It has been a terrible time trying to fill this role, and our surprise guest has been gracious enough to accept our invitation. Professor Loki Laufeyson’s entrance may give you a taste into his exciting curriculum as the new Potions Master.” She gave him a warm smile.
He walked over to his seat and placed his hands on the table to look out at the students. There was something both inviting and dangerous about him. You could not look away.
He smiled widely and raised his hands. “Your potions saviour is here!”
The students clapped and eventually broke into applause. The Slytherin table was particularly ecstatic. There was no mistaking what house he belonged to. He looked at every table with a wide grin, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. They rested on you and your heart stopped. They flickered away, and he moved on before sitting down as the Headmistress continued her announcements.
Your hands were still clasped together in mid clap as you looked at the same man that was in your dream. His screams echoed in your mind and you wondered if this was all a nightmare. Regardless, it was going to be an interesting semester.
Series: Part 4 of STRIKE
Summary: The Triskelion is home to some of the most lethal counterintelligence operatives in the world, and some of her darkest secrets. The men and women of SHIELD’s STRIKE Team Delta keep them all.
Part 4 of the STRIKE Series follows Allison Addams into a different world of spies, where truth and lies lose their identity in deeper shades of grey and orders come from the blackest shadow.
All Lizzie wants is to be a successful designer. After thinking she’s finally made it, life becomes a struggle yet again. When Tony Stark has her in his sights it’s all too easy for him to draw her into his world. Maybe that would be something she could survive, but there are people out there who are desperate to take Tony down. These so-called good guys have no problem exploiting Lizzie’s family issues to hold her to ransom. What will it take for her to survive that?
Series warnings: Organised crime; explicit smut; angst; manipulation; team cap vs team iron man; domestic violence; meta; flangst; corruption. Chapter rating: Mature
Lizzie’s heart was hammering and she struggled not to let her footsteps keep pace with it. It was a humid night and the pavement still held the glisten of summer rain. Clutched in her hand were wires and little microphones. Her purse had held an Anti-Spy device, bought from an old friend who had a pawn shop in Queens.
“I always knew that business of yours was a front,” he’d joked.
“Ask no questions and I’ll pay you extra. Mention this to my brothers and I’ll fuck you up.”
“And they say Tino’s the scary one. Don’t worry baby, this place thrives on discretion.”
The device had gone into the first dumpster she came across, now she scanned every alley she passed looking for a likely place to toss the bugs. Finally a huge red dumpster caught her eye in an alley wide enough to be safe in but dark enough she wouldn’t easily be spotted. It took a couple of tries to lift the lid long enough to throw them in but she managed it. Lizzie took a moment to brush her hands together and take a breath. Job done. Making to go back down the alley, an unfamiliar voice made her blood run cold.
“Are ya lost, babygirl?”
Lizzie turned swiftly around, and saw no one. At first. Then a figure came into view. All in black. Even the long hair under his beanie was like midnight.
“Not lost at all. Are you? Maybe my boyfriend could get you a cab?”
She could see his smiling face now. The smile would have been cute but for the coldness in his blue eyes.
“Some boyfriend, lettin’ you duck down alleys all alone. God knows what could happen to you.”
In a second he was on her, wrist closed over hers, crushing the metal of Tony’s bracelet into her skin. He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled, moving one leg between hers.
Which was all Lizzie needed. Her knee jerked up to crush his balls with vigour before she headbutted him right in the nose. This time she let her feet move as fast as they could carry her until she was able to throw herself into a taxi.
Bucky wiped the back of his hand against his nose and saw blood. Chuckling to himself, he watched her run. So, the girl could fight. Good for her. Not that he couldn’t overpower her if he wanted to, but tonight he had work to do. Picking up a tiny bejewelled Jamaican flag off the damp ground, he committed the scent of its owner to memory.
Following the success of Bucky’s last Iron District break-in, he had timed his second assault identically. And just like last time, he found the top floor of the building in darkness. Unlike last time, he’d been lucky enough to chance on Lizzie Best. Not only that, but her token was stashed in his inside pocket, next to his heart. Last time was good, this time could only be better.
This time Bucky was bugging the conference room. Thanks to him, they had learned that there was evidence of the Iron Brothers’ gun running right here at their headquarters. Thanks to forces unknown, or maybe a crooked judge, all of that evidence was long gone by the time Steve and Sam showed up.
“What the fuck are we gonna do now?” Steve yelled.
“Pray to Saint Anthony?” snarked Bucky.
“Man, shut the hell up!” said Sam, right before kicking a chair across the room.
It wasn’t likely these assholes would make the same mistake again, so the feds were banking on Stark and Rhodes coming up with a new plan and Steve couldn’t risk not finding out what it was. Sam had leaned on Parker for two nights, trying to break him, but it was no good. And they had nothing on him that was serious enough to make it worth ratting Tony out. On top of that, the Director was asking questions. First the failure in Florida, now this. Steve tried to blame Barton, but nobody wanted to know.
“I gotta see this through, Buck,” Steve had told him later over a whiskey. Bucky had smiled and put his hand on Steve’s shoulder.
“I’m with ya, pal. Leave it to me.”
“Don’t do anything stupid.”
As he crept through a window into the antechamber outside the conference room, Bucky wondered if his scene with Lizzie would qualify as “stupid” in Steve’s book. Nah. It probably qualified as something worse.
With one hand on the doorknob, Bucky froze, then moved his hand to his gun. Someone was coming. No, people were coming. Loud people, and thank god for that. Before they could pile into the conference room from the opposite door, Bucky had whipped his hand from inside his jacket and fled silently into the night.
In his car, he checked his belongings. All his equipment was still there. Breathing a sigh of relief, he drove home.
It was there in his apartment, meticulously removing and sorting his clothes, that he realised he was missing a little gift, unwillingly given to him by Lizzie Best.
After that awful night in a Soho alleyway, Lizzie went on to experience one of the happiest summers of her adult life. Being with Tony was amazing enough that she even laughed at the thought she was once scared of him. This tough, ruthless guy was nothing but passionate and romantic with her. Even goofy, sometimes. Like when he won her a giant stuffed bunny at Seapoint Park and insisted she take a photo of him holding it aloft like the Vince Lombardi trophy. And so sweet; he’d carried on playing ring toss and hook a duck until he'd won a pink stuffed kitty for Lizzie to take home to her cat-loving mother.
Not that Lizzie had been in a hurry to introduce him to her. It wasn't as if she could lie about what he did for a living. Anyone with eyes and a TV knew who Tony Stark was. But by the end of the summer there was a big, momentous family function planned and as Lizzie’s boyfriend, Tony simply had to be there.
This was the other reason the summer was so happy. Philly had been found innocent of all charges, and finally, after nine years, Tino was to be a free man. A free man with a parole officer, but still.
Lizzie had hugged Natasha until she realised her tears were about to ruin the lawyer's Karl Largerfeld sleeve.
“Enough, my dear. Unless you want a dry cleaning bill on top of your legal bill.”
Lizzie sniffed and laughed. “Thank you Nat. And please, thank Clint for me too.”
Sometimes Lizzie caught herself thinking thoughts like, ‘how am I on first name terms with a corrupt DA?’, but one minute in Tony’s company erased them. Often because of the fire he was igniting with his touch. Or sometimes, because he was acting the fool and blowing raspberries on her tummy.
“Fuck off! Stop it Tony!”
“Seriously!” she squealed, wiggling out from under him and flipping him onto his back.
“I can just tickle you from here, y’know.”
Lizzie grabbed his wrists and he let her pin them. “Oh yeah? How ‘bout now?”
“How ‘bout you gimme a smooch?”
Lizzie hummed and complied. Tony moved his arms and she lifted her head, arching an eyebrow. Tony shook his head.
“No funny stuff, I swear. Just wanna cuddle.”
Lizzie settled into his arms, listening to his heart beating. “This is better, huh?”
“I dunno,” sighed Tony, holding her tightly, “you’re not so noisy like this. I like the noises you make.”
Lizzie lifted her head again. “Well, I’m sure there’s another way to remedy that, isn’t there Stark?”
Tony grinned and flipped her onto her back, not taking his eyes from her gorgeous face as he sank into her wet heat.
It was the day of her brothers’ party. Tony had offered to host, but Lizzie said no. She had warned her family about meeting her new boyfriend days prior, wanting her mother to process it before the celebration. It had gone as expected, outrage from the elders and empathy from her siblings, but everyone remained on speaking terms. Bringing the family to a gangster’s home would have been asking too much.
Everton was hosting, as he had the biggest backyard. The day was dry and sunny, clear blue sky a perfect metaphor for the three Best children and the possibilities that lay ahead. Lizzie was building up the business, and Tino had already made a name for himself as an artist while on the inside and had patrons waiting for him. Philly was the main worry, and his resistance to the job Everton offered him had Lizzie on edge.
“I hear you turned Uncle down,” she said, after taking him round to the front yard, leaving Mrs. Best to be charmed (but not fooled) by Tony.
“Well yeah. I always hated working in that garage. We all did, remember?”
“I know Philly. But you need a trade. Something steady. Fast money is addictive, you need a sponsor.”
“How fast does your new squeeze make his money?”
“Don’t you dare. I hear you asked him for a job and I swear to god I’ll-”
“Relax sis!” he laughed, grabbing the finger she was pointing at him. “Just teasin’. I actually had somethin’ else in mind.”
“What’s that?” Lizzie saw he looked bashful all of a sudden.
“Well…” he rubbed the back of his head. “I was thinking I could work for you.”
“Why not? I know I aint gifted like you and Tino, but I still got skills. You can pay me to do the heavy liftin’, run errands and all, and train me up at the same time. Who knows, if I like it maybe I can take a class or some shit.” He was rubbing his head again. Lizzie smiled, truly touched by his idea.
“I think that sounds great, Philly. I’d love it.”
Philly broke out in a huge smile and gave his sister a hug, tutting when he realised she was crying.
“Uh uh, no tears. Happy day, remember? Come on, let's go rescue Tony from Mommy.”
In fact they passed Tony on their way back around the house, walking with Everton.
“Where you off to?” questioned Philly.
“As if you gotta ask,” said Lizzie. “Don’t spend all day cooped up with cars, alright? It’s too nice a day.”
“Five minutes honey, I promise.” Tony pecked her on the cheek and they parted ways.
In the backyard they sat down with Tino, who had his eyes closed and his face tilted towards the sun. Philly was the odd one out of the trio, being short and stocky. Tino was tall and slim like his sister, with the same soulful brown eyes and pretty face.
“Feels good huh?” observed Philly, grabbing a chair for his sister and taking one for himself.
“You don’t even know, kid.”
Philly did know, but at the same time not. A few short stretches didn't compare to what Tino had been through.
“Soak it up boys. It’ll be winter again before we know it.”
There followed the usual grumble about their parents choosing to leave the Caribbean for New York instead of a place that didn’t get snow.
“Lizzie you gotta get successful so we can afford to fly south every summer,” said Philly.
“If you pull your weight maybe I will.”
“Or you could just sweet talk your Iron Brother,” said Tino with a laugh.
Lizzie rolled her eyes.
“Nah,” Tino went on. “Maybe just come down and visit me before the snow comes.”
“Visit you? You going back to Kingston?”
“Hell no. Mommy left for a reason. Got my sights set on somewhere better.”
Tino opened one eye. “Bequia.”
Lizzie smiled. Bequia was a small island. Cheap, peaceful and haven for artists.
“Can ya picture it? Me on the beach, paintbrush in one hand, Wray and Neph in the other. Ah man, that’d be somethin’.”
“Sounds good, brother. Right now I'll settle for a beer in Queens. You guys want one?”
Philly’s siblings nodded and Lizzie watched him saunter away.
“You really thinking of going?”
Tino sighed. “Dreamin’ right now I guess. Had a lotta dreams the past nine years y’know? Gotta figure out which ones have a shot at becoming reality.”
Lizzie watched Tony come back into the yard.
“I guess we all dream of paradise,” she mused.
Tino smiled. “It’s not paradise I dreamed of, Liz. It was escape.”
While Tony and Lizzie were enjoying the simple pleasure of a backyard barbeque, their pictures were being taken down from the wall of an office in Federal Plaza. They, and every other piece of information Steve and his team had gathered was being boxed and filed, ready for the next group of agents tasked with taking the Iron Brothers down.
Steve was watching the scene. He had already copied as much as he dared and stashed a box of documents in his garage. Steve had been taken off investigations prematurely before, but they never stung like this. Tony wasn’t just an arch-criminal, he was Steve’s arch-criminal. Sharon had tried to understand but in the end was forced to ask him why the hell he was taking this so personally.
The truth was, Steve didn’t know. He knew there was something about Tony and James that struck a familiar chord. Something that made him mad that, when the men had decided how they were going to make their way in the world, they had chosen violence. Every now and then you came across guys like that; guys who could have used their intelligence to make the country better, not worse.
Steve knew that his actions sometimes resulted in collateral damage. But he never stopped to consider the rights or wrongs of that. He was on the side of good, and that meant the ends always justify the means.
“Come on man, let’s get outta here.”
Steve turned wordlessly to Sam.
“Seriously. We got work to do and it aint in here.”
Steve reluctantly followed his partner out of the room, taking a last look back at the administrators busily reducing two years of his life down to a catalogue.
After Steve had gone home to Sharon, and Tony drove Lizzie back to his house, James decided to call it a night too. Work-wise, anyway. Calling the bar from his desk, he told Michelle to order the new Nigerian girl to wait for him in his apartment.
James went into the conference room. Slowly he strolled around, scanning for spying equipment with a device similar to the one Lizzie had secretly used to find the bugs in the reception room. They had gone weeks without incident, but since that fridge of a man Rogers had almost caught them with their pants down, James took no chances.
Conference room done, he stepped into the antechamber. Not that it was a likely place to plant a bug, but you never knew.
It was a small space, no more than two by four feet. James could stand still and turn in a circle to scan it. He looked out the window as he went. All was quiet, until his brand new phone rang. It was slippy - he hadn’t even got a case for it yet. Awkwardly he answered while still holding the scanner.
“All good. Enjoy the party?”
“Party’s just beginning.”
James chuckled. “Say hi to Lizzie.”
“Hi to Lizzie.” Tony hung up. James fumbled putting the phone back in his pocket and accidentally switched on the torch.
It had taken him long enough to learn how to stop doing that with the last one. Angrily jabbing and swiping the phone with his thumb, he shone the light towards the edge of the rug he was standing on. Something twinkled in the glow. Frowning, he crouched down, trading the scanner for the tiny, bejewelled object.
The frown twisted until James Rhodes was doing something rare, and terrifying. Standing in the dark, and letting righteous anger write itself all over his face.
Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought. Taglists are open!
Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader
A/N: Another update! A rare occurrence but a welcomed surprise. Enjoy as much as you can, my lovelies!
Tags are open! (Send me an ask/message/response.)
It had been a very long time since Loki felt this way. A cold numbness that didn’t pertain to his Jotun nature. He’s been seated in the same lounge seat in the corner of his room for countless days now. Frozen in place and unwilling to move.
Loki stared out at the expansive window and watched the same scene over and over again.
Humanity living on.
So simple. So small. So… mortal.
How could you possibly yearn for this? How could you possibly mourn the loss of a short existence?
The answer slowly dawns on him.
It is not the loss of your human mortality. It is the loss that you will endure due to the human mortality of others.
He had taken that away from you without knowing. Loki thought only of himself and his deal, disregarding you entirely.
If Loki had just thought of you for once he would have realized this possibility sooner. The power of Veritas was clever and it would do anything to survive such as turning a mortal into a God.
You had sacrificed so much already, endured things no one should have to, and then this revelation came crashing down too.
Loki wished he could ignore it all. You no longer pertained to him anymore. He will soon receive his freedom and you were out of his life for good. Soulmate or not, he had achieved what he desired in the end.
Except he still remained frozen, numb, and at a loss.
Something had shifted and Loki felt off-balanced.
He would give anything for things to return to normal but he couldn’t even remember what normal was anymore.
Loki was falling deep into a dark spiral. An all too familiar darkness embracing him and refusing to let him go.
A glowing form stands before him and it takes a second for Loki to recognize his own mother.
“My son…” she smiles but it fades away at the sight of him. “What’s happened?”
Concern is pooling in her eyes and Loki must really be slipping if she realized this quickly how much of a mess he has become.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he answers too quickly. “What… What are you doing here?”
“Thor prayed to me,” she answers. “He’s concerned for you.”
Loki remains silent, unable to spin a lie to drive her away.
“Loki,” Frigga calls out to him in worry. “What has happened?”
“Nothing out of the norm,” Loki answers, trying to be indifferent. “I caused mischief and chaos and revealed hidden truths.”
“And that’s it,” he snaps, finally removing himself from his seat. “Nothing more, nothing less.”
Frigga remains silent for a second and manages to read between the lines.
“The mortal,” she pinpoints. “Your potential soulmate.”
“Not my soulmate,” Loki corrects. “And not a mortal anymore.”
“She’s evolving. The power of Veritas seems to have forced a more appropriate vessel out of her. The siphons will soon no longer be needed which then confirms what I was hoping for: she is not my soulmate.”
Frigga is silenced once more but Loki can see her mind at work.
“Well good,” she states. “Saves that girl from heartbreak and you from weakness, right?”
Loki hides his surprise at her words and hums in agreement.
“Yes, she… she is no longer a threat to me.”
“Threat,” Frigga repeats. “Such a heavy word. I didn’t realize a mere mortal could ever be a threat to you.”
“Well, she was for a while,” Loki admits. “Could see right through me. Read me in a way that you’ve only been able to. Cared too much and…”
Loki hesitates and Frigga clings to that.
Loki takes a deep breath and sighs, “And loved too deeply.”
“Love,” Frigga whispers. “Now that’s also quite a heavy word.”
Loki doesn’t respond so she continues.
“I guess I spoke too soon. Seems like her heart was not spared in this matter,” Frigga states. “And neither was yours.”
Loki is quick to turn to her.
“I do not care for her.”
“Don’t lie, Loki. I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t so affected by all of it.”
“I am not affected!”
“Your anger speaks otherwise.”
Loki’s driven to silence once more and Frigga takes her chance.
“You hurt her, didn’t you?” she asks knowing very well the answer. “She scared you because she made you feel and so you drove her away hoping things would go back to normal, but they didn’t. They didn’t and you have no idea why.”
Frigga can see her son hurting but she has to continue.
“You think love as a weakness, Loki, but if only you could realize how much strength it could actually bring you if you just allowed it. Someone who will always stand by your side. A caretaker, a lover, and most importantly, a friend.”
Loki stumbles and Frigga steps forward wishing she could hold her son up. He was so wounded and jarred and she wished to heal all his wounds but knew she would come short. There was only one way to save him and it was not by her hand.
“She doesn’t want anything to do with me.”
“Perhaps she feels that way now, but just like you, she will realize what you have,” Frigga tells him. “A second chance will appear on the horizon. Just be patient.”
Loki doesn’t know what to say but it doesn’t matter as a sharp pain shoots down his spine.
“What in the hel was that?”
Frigga scowls unsure of what he was referring to.
“Something’s wrong,” Loki stammers out as he tries to make sense of it himself. “I feel like I’m being ripped apart.”
Realization hits her instantly at Loki’s explanation.
“Soulmate or not, you and her are connected by a very delicate power that hinges solely on balance. You’ve both been tethering at the edge and I fear she has fallen off it. If it is what I think it is then she is on the verge of killing herself. Set aside your troubles and help her!”
Loki doesn’t hesitate. He storms out of his room in search of you and he is not the only one. He runs into the entire team at the lobby of Stark’s tower.
“Stay out of this,” Natasha states the moment he locks eyes with her. “You’ve done enough.”
“And so have you,” he answers. “Where is she?”
“She’s gone,” Tony states as he pulls up feed from his security cameras. “Ran out before we had a chance to stop her.”
“Out on the streets is the last place she should be,” Thor remarks. “Not with the power she wields.”
“Or the people who would do anything to take it from her,” Steve adds. “She’s in danger out there.”
There was no point in trying to figure out what drove you over the edge when you were out on the streets losing control over a vast power. It doesn't help that you were a target. One that neither you or Loki had known you were.
Loki moves towards the doors but Tony is quick to intercept him.
“Still on lockdown, Satan,” Tony reminds him as he points down his ankle. “You’re not allowed out there.”
Loki doesn’t say a word as he tries to think of an alternative exit but Stark was right. He was still shackled to the Tower, but your need for him outweighed everything else.
“Very well,” he tells them. “If you won’t allow me out to help her, then I will resort to cold and petty means… and I mean very, very cold and petty.”
“Loki, no!” Thor shouts as he realizes his brother’s intention but it’s too late. Loki pulls in every ounce of his power within him, shattering the illusion spell he always held up. His ivory skin turns blue, eyes turn red, and everything begins to freeze around him.
“What the hell are you doing?” Tony shouts.
“What needs to be done,” he growls.
Ice spreads through the marble floors and encases everything it touches. The magical-disabling monitor wrapped around his ankle is instantly covered in ice and shatters at the rising cold intensity.
Loki doesn’t stop there.
He traps the entire team by casing their legs in ice.
For revenge, but mostly because if anyone was going to get through to you, it could only be him and him alone.
“Don’t worry,” he tells them as he walks past them, ignoring their curses and shouts. “I will bring her back safe and sound.”
You and Wanda have always had a strong bond. You’d been a part of the Avengers before the raid in Sokovia, which was where you first met Wanda. Your powers were similar to hers: your telekinesis wasn’t as strong, and you couldn’t fully read minds. But you could read people’s fears, and manipulate them into seeing their fears. It was a power you were wary of. You knew that if you pushed too far, you could cause serious damage.
You sensed something on the day you met Wanda. You knew Tony had seen something, a vision of his worst fear, which confused you. So you searched the HYDRA base, looking for the source. That’s when you found her. She appeared beside you so quickly, her hand bearing your temple. You’d grasped her wrist, her eyes shining as she attempted to reach your mind. Your own eyes had darkened, a sign that you were using your powers to push her back slightly. You had both locked eyes, sharing a small smile, at finding someone so like yourself. Then she had pulled away from you, stepping into a doorway, and the door slammed shut. Leaving you with far too many thoughts about the pretty girl with the glowing red eyes.
You’d been by her side when Sokovia fell, through Pietro’s death, and her moving to America. You’d held her whilst she cried at night, trained with her before missions. You’d help her practice with her powers. There were times where she took your breath away. The occasion Stark party, where she’d be dressed in a stunning red dress. Or you’d take her bowling and you’d be so awful at it that she’d laugh until tears streamed down her face. Each one of these moments made you fall more and more in love with her.
You’d stayed by her side during the Sokovia Accords. With your abilities being so similar, the government believed both of you were a threat to the public. You’d both gone on the run with Steve, Natasha, and Sam. Vision remained in contact with your group, specifically Wanda. He organised a number of meet ups with Wanda. You had often objected to the meet ups, claiming that it was too dangerous for her. Though you suspected you were merely jealous, believing that Wanda and Vision were together.
After Tony’s funeral, you’d felt her grief. You didn’t realise how strange it was, until she’d left. That you had actually felt her emotions. But you’d pushed it aside. In the next week, you’d busied yourself with trying to find a home, to settle down somewhere. Then you felt it. The desperate pull at your heart. The ache to find Wanda. Where was she? Why hadn’t you tried to find her? Was she okay? Everything you do is filled with thoughts of Wanda.
Then you get a call. A SWORD agent, Jimmy Woo, asking you to take a look at something in Westview, New Jersey. At first you want to say no, you need to find Wanda. But something tells you the opposite. That Wanda would want you to do this. So you get in your car and drive to New Jersey. With every mile, the pull gets stronger. You’re surprised you don’t crash your car with how distracted you feel.
Once you arrive at Westview, Jimmy greets you before explaining what you’re dealing with. From what you gather there’s some kind of shield protecting the town. But you can’t focus on Jimmy’s words for long. You walk towards the town, hesitating as you come close to the shield surrounding the town. You hold your hand out brushing against the shield. As you summon some magic to your palm, you feel the familiar pull of Wanda’s power, guiding your hand towards the shield. You stumble forward slightly. The pull of your heart gets stronger, your conscience practically screaming to be reunited with Wanda.
As you walk through the neat and tidy suburbs, you don’t notice how everything is black and white. Or that your clothing has changed. Or that you don’t actually know where you’re going. Because of course you know where you’re going. You’re going home. You head towards a particular house, opening the front door. You look around the lounge, and before your confusion can set in, your eyes fall on Wanda. She grins as you take an uncertain step forward, not quite believing your eyes.
“Welcome home, darling.” And for the first time in a long time, you smile back at her.
You and Wanda have always had a strong bond. A bond which will always bring you home.
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