#and Scam going out to avenge the Library

[normally-o-a-k]

Hey look a fanfiction

Scam/Jodie

Friends to lovers, multi chapter, barely hurt comfort anymore, no beta we die like Glenn, idk what to tag this I’ve never written fic before lmao, some body horror this chapter (descriptions of a creature that looks like the library)

Rating: it’s still pretty teen.

Chapter 4/?

Previous Chapter:

Absolutely delighted by the suggestion Scam sits back up on the couch. “Truth or dare hmm? Thats a bold choice~ Wouldn’t that be more fun with …. Let’s say one or two more players?” As he counts a blue and pink version of Scam appear on the couch on either side of him.

All three versions of Scam grin and eye Jodie like he’s on the menu.

“Or is it too overwhelming to be… let’s call it ‘outnumbered’ for now~”

Jodie figured he’d have some way of giving himself the advantage, But now faced with three versions of Chaos incarnate his confidence was starting to waver. “It’s fine. I can handle it”

“Oooh! Delightful! Tell me since you’re so brave, are we placing a wager? Perhaps the first to back out owes the other one favor~?” The grin that was spreading across Scam’s face had Jodie’s mouth feeling a bit too dry.

“I’ll take that bet… But one rule, no dares that magically change my life…. Deal?” Like hell he was going to play if he was going to pull something like he did to Ron again.

“Deal~ this is a friendly game, I’m not looking to avenge anyone this time so you can relax~ “ he holds out a slightly too long hand to shake on it and Jodie, who’s starting to think he made a mistake, shakes before he can change his mind. “ Go ahead then you brave boy~ start the game~”

Jodie sits back on the couch trying to feign confidence. “Ok. Truth or dare?”

The original Scam laughs “I believe it was Ron who said dare was the sexier option~ so go ahead! Hit me with your best dare~”

Shit. He’d been hoping for truth so he could get him to admit he’s been messing with him. “I dare you not to use any magic for the rest of the night” Jodie grins right back at Scam.

“Ohhh? Interesting! cut me off then~ These two will disappear on their own anyway~” Scam was enjoying this probably more than Jodie knew. It was rare that someone else initiated anything like this with him.

The pink Scam temples his fingers, smirking at Jodie “Truth or Dare Jodie?”

Jodie weighs his options. He was sure all versions of Scam would target him so he was about to get asked the same thing two more times… “truth.”

“I’ll make it a juicy one then~” Scam Pink laughs, absolutely tickled by the fact that he gets to ask something he’d been curious about “Do you miss being human?”

Jodie frowns Scam would be able to tell if he lied, that much he was sure of… So he’d give him the honest truth “It was me but it wasn’t… I lived in that reality for most of Nickolas’ life… every last memory I have of his childhood is back there in that life… so its natural for me to miss it sometimes isn’t it? I suppose I could just go back to earth if I really wanted to… I could look human again… but Nicky…. He’s not who he used to be either…. So it wouldn’t be the same…it wouldn’t be that peaceful easy life we had as a family no matter what I did… I don’t know that I fully want it to be either… Nicky has both Glenn and I and He likes the freedom of going back and forth… so I’ll just keep working, and spend the time with him that I can…So yeah sometimes I miss it… but I don’t want to go back…”

The expression on every version of Scam sitting across from him softens slightly. The pink one speaks up again, suddenly next to him. “It’s normal to mourn parts of your life that are gone~ you went through big changes after all~” He traces a finger over one of Jodie’s horns as if to make his point in the most flirtatious way possible.

“Yeah well it’s not like I miss the time I spent as the battle axe of hatred and that was a big part of my life too…” he doesn’t pull away when the pink version of Scam wraps an arm around him “you’re probably right though…. wait! you lose, you teleported to this couch!”

A chorus of Scam’s laughter drowns out the jazz music for a moment before they settle back down “That wasn’t magic~ I’m just that fast!”

Any victorious feeling that briefly flashed up inside of Jodie just as quickly fizzled out. “You just get more impressive with everything I learn about you…”

The original Scam just smiles, two of his hands clasping over his heart, another hand fanning himself. “Ohh what a flatterer you are! ‘be still my heart’ and all that~” Though he was sure it was unintentional Scam was enjoying the positive attention he was getting. “It’s my turn! Truth or Dare…. Hmm… I choose Jodie~”

He wasn’t surprised, he’d expected to be chosen every turn. What he hadn’t accounted for was losing half his focus to the Pink Scam who was leaning against him. He figured it was Scam trying to comfort him so he just lets it happen. “Truth”

“Hmm~ I can’t help but feel like you’re trying to take the easy way out~” He laughs and leans back on the couch, crossing his legs. It didn’t matter really to him what Jodie chose, he was having fun playing, but truth afforded him some opportunities he wouldn’t otherwise have. “Are you interested in someone~?”

Shit well, at least he hadn’t asked Jodie to name names. “Yes…. There’s someone that’s got me interested”

“Ohhh? Tell me, is it someone we know?~” Both the blue and purple versions of Scam lean closer. The pink version seemed perfectly comfortable where it was, several hands curled around the arm he was leaning on.

Jodie grins at Scam “one question at a time” and there it was, the last time he could choose truth without being in danger of admitting something. He relaxes a bit knowing what was going to come next.

The blue version of Scam folds his arms “truth or dare! I choose… Scam!”

“What?” Jodie’s mind was racing with a million questions, he had thought these were just copies of Scam, but were they thinking independently? Why would he choose himself? What was he playing at?

“Truth~” he swings one of his legs a bit, all four hands folded in his lap as he keeps his eyes firmly locked on Jodie.

The blue Scam smirks as though he’s got one up on himself “has anyone caught your eye?”

“Ohhh yes~ very much so~! I find him incredibly interesting and it doesn’t hurt at all that he’s so ridiculously good looking~ if only he’d get the hint~!” He doesn’t break eye contact with Jodie, staring him down with intent.

He frowns, everything seemed to suggest it was part of the bit directed at him. But…Scam seemed to take games pretty seriously so he didn’t doubt he was actually just confessing to liking someone. He wonders briefly if any of the other Daddies fit that description. There’s a flash of jealousy when he tries to picture it.

“If he’s not picking up on hints why don’t you just be direct?”

Scam shouldn’t be surprised Jodie was still being so stubbornly oblivious, but really that was as close to an actual confession as he’d gone and it’d still failed. “It might surprise you to hear, but I’m not fond of rejection either~”

“Do… you want help?” Jodie knew realistically that he’d probably have a hard time doing it but he honestly wanted to see Scam happy.

“That’s nice of you to offer but the act of seduction is a game in of itself~ it’s not exactly one you play in teams, though if it was, I would love nothing more to be on your team~” Scam’s smile softens even more.

“Maybe that’s exactly why it isn’t working…? You keep thinking of things in terms of games… but relationships don’t work like that… you are supposed to be a team. You can’t build something long lasting if you both aren’t working together… maybe treat it like that and see if it makes a difference?”

Scam goes quiet biting back the want to insist that he’s actually right, sitting back again on the couch a bit rigidly “I think you might be right~ maybe I’m wrong after all… isn’t that concept a novelty?~ It’s your turn again Jodie!”

“Yeah, uh okay Truth or Dare?” He smiles, this was pretty fun after all.

“Who? Me, me or the other me?” Scam visibly relaxes, laughing.

“You” Jodie laughs too.

“Oh of course~ I choose dare! Give me your worst, handsome~ I can handle it!”

He claps his hands excitedly.

“I dare you to…” shit, he was drawing a blank. Everything his brain was supplying was so juvenile. “Oh! This isn’t it right? So show me what you really look like.”

His eyes widen in surprise. “Oh what an interesting dare! Are you absolutely sure that’s what you want~? It’s not going to be very fun for you”

He shrugs, giving him a smug smile “I thought you said you could handle it. I guess you chicken out then ?”

“Oh no, Not at all! I just don’t want you to have any regrets~” he supposes it was a just matter of time before Jodie saw it and any budding interest he could have had in him fades to nothing. He didn’t actually want to do this, but it was a dare and he wasn’t about to lose. “Will it count against the dare forbidding me from magic? I can’t do both~”

“It’s an exception, come on, don’t try to get out of it with excuses” Jodie had been curious since they’d met and now that he’d dared him he was intent on seeing it.

“If you insist~” his skin starts to bubble, his bones cracking and creaking as his limbs and spine lengthen. His skin pulls tight across the changing bones in his face, several more eyes open below and above the three he’d had already, his jaw spitting into a grin that was wider than his elongated face could accommodate.

Jodie stares up at him, dwarfed by Scam in this form. If he was being honest with himself, this didn’t hinder his attraction to Scam in the least.

The other two versions of Scam are pulled into him, disappearing into the skin of his massively long arms. He moves forward, meter long fingers curling around Jodie’s chest, pinning him against the couch with just one hand. He leans in, face inches from Jodie’s, more then a half dozen eyes locked on him .

Jodie’s heart was pounding in his ears. He could feel a blush spreading over his face “shit…”

Scam could feel his heart racing.

He quickly changes back “Oops~ I guess that was probably a bit much for you huh? It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to let loose like that~! But it’s fine~ Really, who doesn’t prefer a more compact and sexy Scam~?” He laughs, uncomfortable with how quiet Jodie had gotten, leaning close, a significantly smaller hand still planted on the center of Jodie’s chest. His heart rate wasn’t slowing. He must have terrified him.

“You… wow….” Jodie smiles, no hint of fear in his voice, there was however an edge of excitement to his voice that was the last thing he expected out of the demon “damn you’re tall…”

Scam makes no effort to move from his position, Jodie’s genuine smile throwing him for a loop. This, he was sure, was not going to be the last time Jodie would absolutely fascinate him. This was enough to tip the scales for him, no more skirting around what he wanted. His voice practically a purr “Truth or Dare Jodie~”

“Dare…” Jodie’s smile widens a bit.

“Kiss me~ if you’re not a cowar—“

Jodie doesn’t wait for him to finish, closing the distance between them, lips crashing against Scam’s in a desperate open mouth kiss. He reaches up, sliding a hand into Scam’s hair and pulling him closer.

Scam moans into the kiss, closing his eyes and losing himself in it. He’d wanted this for a while and it was everything he’d imagined and more… it wasn’t by any means a good kiss… it was sloppy and desperate… but it was the desperation he found so appealing. The way they both held each other tightly pressed against the other, wanting to somehow kiss harder, to kiss more, a crescendo of feelings they’d both been holding back. Any doubts he had about Jodie feeling something back were gone, no one kisses like this and doesn’t mean it.

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads spoilers #dnd dads #dndads s2 #dnddads #dndads season 2 #dndads fanfic #dungeons and daddies fan fiction #scamster #scodie #scam/jodie #jodie/scam #jodie foster #scam actually #scam likely

[palarii]

I can’t keep this to myself anymore—

Scam saying

“he was always more of the fighter, I was always more of the lover”

Is such a Lark and Sparrow thing

#dndads #not fanart #Also #can’t stress enough how much I love the close knit family that is the likely family #they’re so fond of each other #Library immediately going :oh you know book mark? #Then the library going :yeah females can be named mark too #and Scam going out to avenge the Library #then Mark going out to avenge Scam #and the fact that Scam respects and applies the fact that Mark uses he/she by calling her his brother/sister #everything about the likely family is just so good #Thank you for coming to my TedTalk #scam likely #Mark likely #Lark Oak #Sparrow Oak

[bigballofstress]

Pickpocket (Avengers x Child!Reader)

Description: You have been living on the streets for years, and over these years, you have become incredibly good at pickpocketing.  Unfortunately for you, though, you picked the wrong target one too many times.

Part 2 if you guys want it, just let me know!

Chin up, shoulders back, even steps.  My heart is calm, my breaths slow and measured, and every muscle in my body is relaxed.  In other words, every last inch of me screams that I am a confident, kind young lady without a care in the world.

No matter what anybody says, looks really are everything.  Every time you meet someone new or even just pass by them on the street, your mind makes a snap judgement about them.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I’m not saying that everyone you meet is prejudiced or anything of the sort.  Those snap judgements can easily be changed with an open-minded person, sometimes without even needing a whole conversation.  Still, that doesn’t change the fact that when you see a well-groomed person in a suit, your mind automatically thinks they are successful, and when you see someone coming at you with a hoodie covering their face and their hands in their pockets, you automatically tense up.  None of that is your fault, and actually it’s probably a good thing that you would be wary of people who are acting rather suspicious.  Really, the only issue with these immediate ideas of every person you see is the fact that it makes people like me -- people who understand how these momentary impressions work -- able to take advantage of them.

It didn’t take long to realize I had a talent for it.  I already looked the part, -- a helpless, adorable little girl -- I had a surprising knack for staying calm under pressure, and as much as I hated the old bitch, my caretaker had given me all the tools I needed.  She was a stickler for proper manners, so I learned how to speak, sit, and walk like a “proper young lady.”  Plus, her insane rules about tiny meal portions and too-early curfews taught me to be light on my feet as I often sneaked downstairs to grab a roll of bread at night.  Yes, I had everything I needed.  The only real hurdle was actually deciding to do it.  I never really wanted to be a bad person.  But the world is a heartless place, the city even more so, and by the end of my first week, I knew what I had to do if I was ever going to survive.

So, I started working -- oh, and by the way, no matter what you think, it is still a job.  I put my time and effort into a certain task, and I obtain money because of it.  I don’t know about you, but that certainly sounds like a job to me.  And it was easier than I thought it would be.  Within about a day, I realized that people saw me as sweet, innocent, and harmless -- no, more than that, they wanted to see me as harmless.  Because if I wasn’t harmless, then that meant their world was even more screwed up than they thought.  I learned quick, and by the end of the year, I had perfected my technique.  It was simple: avoid all conversation if possible, and if absolutely necessary, smile and point out the farthest adult man within reason as my dad before weaving through the small gaps in the crowd, preferably around taller people, so they couldn’t see or follow me.  I only got caught once or twice, but I’m grateful that I did.  It forced me to learn perspective, that I needed to know more than just how to talk well.  So, I learned how to run through a city.  And now, I’m practically unstoppable.  

As I take my even, not-too-fast-but-not-too-slow stroll down the sidewalk, a small, ambiguous smile decorating my lips, I can see it in each person’s eyes as they walk past that I have completely embodied my character.  My arms swung with a practiced nonchalance as my eyes flickered from one person to the next, each time going through a mental list as I weighed the chances I had of succeeding on them versus how likely they were to catch on and calculated the amount of time that both of these events would likely take to happen.  Finally, after a few minutes of this practice, one of them caught my eye.

He was larger, more muscular.  Guys like him were  a gamble.  Often, a man of his appearance simply cared a bit too much about his appearance.  Still, every now and then, they look like that because they been trained, and while past training usually meant they had no practice running in a city, it also meant that he would be much more jumpy and alert to his surroundings.  However, his deep, loose pockets with the corner of his wallet just barely sticking out and the thoughtful gaze as he surveyed the buildings tipped the scales further and further in my favor.  The wonder in his eyes just screamed tourist.

I gazed forward with an absentminded look in my eye that I’d spent months perfecting in the mirror while keeping him clearly in my periphery before bumping into him.  As I hit him, two of my fingers simultaneously dipped into his pocket, where my knee bumped against his leg to jolt his wallet up and out.  The moment the warm leather was in my grasp, I forced myself to fall backwards.  Before I could hit the ground, though, I felt one of those strong, muscular arms had wrapped itself around my waist and was helping me back up.  

My jaw clenched for half a second.  This wasn’t good.  His reflexes were too quick to have just worked out at some random gym, which meant my hunch was right: he had been trained.  And that meant that I needed to get out of there fast.  I wouldn’t be able to slip the wallet back in his pocket without bumping into him again, and that would only make me look even more suspicious, so I quickly emptied it of all of the cash behind his back and slipped the bills into my sleeve before tossing the piece of leather on the ground a few feet away.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes, and immediately I decided on my personality for the day -- bright and bubbly but proper.  Gently, he released his arm from its position on my waist once he knew I had regained my footing.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I quickly apologized, my left hand shooting up to cover my mouth in fake shock while my right hand carefully dropped the money in one of my own pockets, all the while watching every last one of his movements for any sign of suspicion.  “It was all my fault.  I wasn’t paying attention where I was going.”

“It’s ok, really.”  He scratched the back of his neck.  “I wasn’t really looking where I was going either, so it was partially my fault, too.”

“Well, thank you for catching me, sir, but I really have to go,” I smiled at him apologetically.  “I’m supposed to meet back up with my dad in about five minutes.”

“Oh, no worries,” he responded kindly before sneaking a glance at my old, slightly ripped clothes, the concern still dancing in his eyes.  “You’re sure you’re alright, though?”

“Absolutely!”  I dismissed.  “Thank you again!”

“Um, yeah, no problem.”  We both started to walk away.

I waited patiently as I listened to his retreating steps.  1... 2... 3... 4... and then-- “Hey, mister!” I called, bending down and grabbing the piece of leather from where I had tossed it earlier.  “I think you might’ve dropped your wallet!”

The man turned back, shocked, before jogging back towards me.  “I didn’t even notice,” he mumbled to himself.  “Hey, thanks, kid.”

“My pleasure!” I chirped.  “Now, sorry, but I really have to get going.  See you around, sir!”  I quickly jogged off, allowing myself to get lost in the crowd before he could even have a minute to fully understand what happened.

-- 3rd Person POV --

“I told you guys the world wasn’t such a bad place!” Steve called as he entered the living room of Stark Tower.  The rest of the Avengers looked up in surprise.  They had been having this argument for the past three days, with Steve insisting that there were still people who put others first living in New York while the entire rest of the team tried to convince him otherwise.

“Alright, show your work,” Tony leaned back against the wall, watching the captain with curiosity.

“I met a kid today who couldn’t have been older than 16.  I was trying to remember what the city looked like before I went in the ice, and I accidentally bumped into her.  She then spent the next few minutes constantly apologizing and saying it was all her fault.  And the best part is, after we’d already walked away, she found and returned my wallet.  I hadn’t even realized I had dropped it!”  The 96-year-old man finished with a triumphant grin, leaving the rest of the team silent for a moment.  That is, until Tony busted out laughing.  Steve frowned.  “...What?”

“Steve, honey, check inside of your wallet,” Natasha sighed as she turned back to the tv to watch whatever was on.

Steve frowned, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his wallet.  “I don’t understand; why do you want me to....” He trailed off as he stared at the now empty pocket that only just earlier that day held around 65 dollars in cash.  “She... but how did she...”

Tony slapped a heavy hand on Steve’s shoulder, wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye.  “She scammed you, bro.  And you fell for it hook, line, and sinker,” he grinned before walking back to his room, still chuckling softly to himself at his friend’s misfortune.

------- Time Skip -------

About two weeks had passed since that godsend of a man and I crossed paths.  I can’t remember the last time I had managed to lift 65 dollars off anyone.  That kind of cash can last someone like me a really long time.  But sadly, all good things must come to an end, and after buying myself the first decent meal I’d had in weeks plus a ton of canned foods and non-perishables that I dropped off at the nearest homeless shelter, that good thing ended ended all too quickly.  Which meant it was time I went back to work.

I stepped into the public library, that same ambiguous smile painted ever so gently across my face.  There weren’t a whole lot of people here and there were almost never any big scores, but working here was a lot less guess-work, and more often than not, the target was too engrossed in their book to even notice what I was doing, so there was also much less risk of being caught.

After a quick scan of the quiet room, my eyes landed on the man sitting at one of the long tables, his bag haphazardly laying next to him on the table.  It should be easy enough to grab something from in there, and he seemed invested enough to have his guard down.  He should make for a good target.

I walked into the science section and grabbed a few scientific papers, most of which were generally about to nuclear physics, before walking back to his table and sitting down right across from him.  Scientific papers are the best way to make sure no one has the confidence to talk to you.  I opened the paper that I had read a hundred times and started pretending to read it once more, my left hand resting on my cheek as my right hand slowly made its way towards the bag.

“Excuse me.” I glanced up, pausing my movement towards his back but still being careful not to react too quickly and retract my hand.  I didn’t want to draw his attention to what I was doing, and if at all possible, I would still like to come out of this with something to show for it.  As I met the glasses-clad, clearly intelligent eyes of the man in front of me, it was easy to figure out what my personality should be -- shy, smart, and above all else, kind.  “Is that Schippers’s work?”

I blinked in surprise and allowed a soft smile to spread across my lips.  “You know Stefan Schippers?”

“Yeah, his work in antimatter is amazing,” he grinned fully now, his eyes lighting up and making him almost look like a completely different person.  “Particularly regarding his research in collisions.”

I grinned back, taking note of how his eyes were now trained on mine, instead of glancing around like before.  Maybe I should’ve started a conversation before -- clearly it was a good distraction for him.  Well, either way, it’s going to be easier to lift something off of him now, so I guess I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.  “I completely agree.  His work is amazing,” I giggled softly, glancing down at the table before looking back up at him, a slight red hue now painting the apples of my cheeks as my hand slipped inside of his bag.

“I was honestly surprised to see you reading that paper, actually,” he chuckled nervously.  “I’ve read it at least 20 times, but I figured I was the only one.”  I laughed lightly, slipping what felt like a wallet out of the bag and tucking it under my arm.

“Trust me, I’ve read this so many times, I’m afraid the library is going to have to replace it because I’ve worn it out so much.  You know, if you’re interested in Schippers, you should read some of Dr. Banner’s papers,” I laid my left hand on his arm gently while my right arm swung back over to me, pushing the wallet into my lap.  “As much as I love Schippers, Dr. Banner’s work is unparalleled.”

The man chuckled nervously again, ducking his head a bit.  “You really think so, huh?  How old are you anyways?  I don’t see a whole lot of kids brushing up on nuclear physics.”

“I’m older than I look,” I casually brushed off the question.  I was not about to give up any personal information, fellow science geek or not.  “Oh, by the way, do you have the time?”

The man glanced at his watch.  “About 6:00.”

My eyes widened in shock.  “You’re kidding, it got that late?!  My dad’s gonna kill me!”  I gasped and quickly stood up, catching the wallet in my left hand and slipping it into my pocket.  “It was really nice meeting you, sir, but I have to go home.  I really liked talking to you, though!  I hope we can meet again!”  I hurriedly gathered the papers and rushed off, waving with a broad smile.

“Oh, uh nice meeting you... too...” he tried to respond, but she was already well out of sight.

-- 3rd Person POV -- 

“What the hell?” Bruce mumbled, digging through his bag.  The pizza had just arrived, and he needed to pay his share.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha glanced at him, an eyebrow raised.

“I could’ve sworn I put my wallet in here, but now I can’t find it,” he frowned, continuing to search every last nook and cranny of the old bag.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy, I can cover you if you’re short,” Tony shrugged.

“That’s not the issue,” Bruce frowned, finally giving up and tossing his bag to the side in frustration.  “That had my credit card, my driver’s license, and my ID for Stark Tower.  If it’s lost somewhere, it could be a real problem.”

“When was the last time you remember having it?”  Clint mumbled through a full mouth of the piece of pizza that he’d already shoved in his face.  Natasha rolled her eyes and wiped off the bit of spit he’d gotten on her in disgust.

“I was at the library.  I used my library card to check out some books,” he responded confidently.

“Again?” Clint asked, once again through a mouthful of cheese and marinara sauce.  “What, do you live there or something?”

“Ok, now walk us through exactly what happened after you checked out those books,” Natasha suggested, doing her best to ignore her best friend.

Bruce sighed and nodded, sitting down.  “I checked out my books, then walked over to one of the tables to start reading.  Then I talked to that teenager for a little while about some of Schippers’s theories before she ran off--”

“You talked to a teenager about Schippers?  And she actually understood?”  Tony asked, lifting a brow in surprise.

“Yeah, she even recommended I read Dr. Banner’s work in the same field,” Bruce chuckled.  “I thought it better not to tell her who I was, but according to her, Banner’s work is ‘unparalleled’.”

“Damn, the kid knows her stuff,” Tony nodded, impressed.  “Did she say anything about--”

“Boys,” Natasha cut in.  “The wallet.”

“Ah, right,” Bruce mumbled apologetically.  “Anyways, after she ran off, I kept reading for a few minutes before leaving, too.  Then I came back to the tower and got up here just in time to decide on ordering pizza with you guys.”

“Did you use the subway?” Natasha asked.

Bruce shook his head.  “No.  I figured since it was such a nice day out, I would just walk home.”

“How did you enter the building?”

“I ran into Steve downstairs, and we came in together.”

Steve, who had been silent up until this point, finally spoke up.  “This teenager... Was she about 16?  With (H/C) hair?”

“What, you think it’s the same girl who totally scammed you the other--” Tony started, getting ready to take part in his favorite pastime of making fun of Steve.

“Actually, yeah, she was,” Bruce answered, his eyes wide in realization.

Before anyone could say anything, Tony’s incredibly loud laughter filled the room.  “Holy shit, you guys both got scammed by the same teenager!  How does that even happen?!” He wheezed, laughing so hard he could hardly breath.

“Hey she seemed like a nice girl!” Bruce defended.  “How was I supposed to know she was robbing me?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?” Tony asked, tears streaming down his face now.  Bruce opened his mouth, trying to come up with something but came up blank.  A heavy hand landing on his shoulder knocked him out of his stupor.

“Just let it happen,” Steve sighed, his eyes cast down as he shook his head in sympathy.

------- Time Skip -------

It had been a week since I had spoken to that science nerd in the library, and I was still pissed.  Seriously, what kind of grown man only carries around 4 dollars and 36 cents?  Well, apparently, that weirdo did.  I had thrown out all the cards and IDs to at least sell the what looked to be leather wallet to a pawn shop, but apparently the thing wasn’t even leather!  All of that time, wasted for a measly 12 bucks.  I’ll say it again: I was pissed.

So, now I was back out working again, because the money I’d made was barely enough to buy a few snacks that I had to portion out over the course of the past week.

As I walked down the sidewalk, still grumbling softly to myself about what had happened, I saw him.  

Tony freaking Stark.

I grinned.  Maybe my luck was getting better after all.  I mean, a billionaire who’s famous for having, shall we say, questionable morals?  After all, it’s not exactly nice to sleep with as many women as humanly possible before tossing them away like they’re nothing.  I mean, sure there’s the whole iron man thing, but he’s still kind of a dick, let’s be honest.  And while I usually tried to refrain from taking anything major in case my target doesn’t have a whole lot of money or the object is sentimental, billionaire jerks are fair game.  And the best part was, I didn’t even have to read him to know the part I was going to play.  Tony Stark would only ever fall for one personality: sarcastic, quick-witted, and strong.

His head was down, buried in his phone, so I casually walked towards him, picking up an old cup of coffee from one of a nearby cafe’s outdoor tables, before smacking into him head-first, spilling the coffee everywhere.

“What the hell?!”

“Oh my god!” We both yelled at the same time.

“Oh c’mon, kid, this is silk!” Tony continued to shout, staring down at the coffee covering his chest.

“Hey, I’m not the one with my head buried in my phone while walking through one of the busiest cities in the world,” I snapped back.  “And you’re not the only one whose clothes got ruined.  This is cashmere!” I lied through my teeth.  It was a ratty old sweater that I’d bought for about 3 dollars at a thrift store.

Stark scoffed.  “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Yeah, you’re Tony Stark.  That doesn’t change the fact that my parents are gonna be pissed about me ruining a hundred dollar sweater,” I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms defiantly.

That was when he finally glanced at me and my coffee-stained outfit.  Stark sighed and put his fingers to the bridge of his nose.  “Alright, I’m sorry.” Wait, what?  Since when does the great Tony Stark ever apologize for anything?  “I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning, ok?  Just give me your parents’ numbers.”

Shit, that’s not how this is supposed to go.  Ok, new strategy.  A sassy front but a kind interior.

I sighed and shook my head.  “No, it’s not entirely your fault.  I guess I could’ve tried to avoid you better.  Anyways, you got a pen and paper?”

Stark nodded slightly and reached into his inner pocket, pulling out a tiny pad and a fancy looking pen.  I quickly jotted down the phone number and handed it back to him.  Shoot, he looked like he was about to walk away.  I had to act quick or lose my chance.  Time to add one more very important characteristic to my identity: pitiable.  “Hey, I really am sorry.  I kind of overreacted.  It wasn’t cool.  I guess I just got a little nervous.  My dad likes things to be clean, and he can get pretty mad when I don’t follow that rule...” I trailed off a bit, glancing down at my feet.  I shook my head quickly and met the billionaire’s gaze, now filled with concern, again.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to dump that on you.  I just wanted to say thanks.”  I held out my right hand, praying that I’d guessed which hand to use correctly.  As Stark grabbed my hand, I had to hold back a sigh of relief when I saw the watch casually placed on his wrist.

“It was really nice meeting you, Mr. Stark,” I smiled a bit, with my left hand closing over his wrist while three of my fingers on my right hand undid the clasp on his watch.  Then I pressed down one the buttons on either side of the clasp with my middle finger on my right hand and my thumb on my left hand, making sure to hold the watch in place.  “If you’d like, I’d be happy to buy you a coffee to make up for it.  There’s a really nice café right over there.”  I squeezed the watch tightly with my left hand and jerked my chin towards the store just behind him.  He turned his head and looked, pulling his hand back slightly as he did so, which allowed me to slip the watch off his wrist.  Immediately, I dropped it in my pocket before he had a chance to turn back around.

“Thanks, kid, but I’m good.  I’ll give your parents a call when I get home, ok?”  He said before awkwardly giving me a pat on the shoulder.  “Now go run off and play with some dolls or whatever.”

I rolled my eyes.  “Thanks, but my collection can’t be nearly as big as yours,” I bit back with a slight, good-natured smirk.  “Anyways, I gotta go home and get yelled at by my parents.  Nice meeting you, Mr. Stark,” I called, waving to him as I was already leaving.

Stark shook his head with a small smile.  “Yeah, you too, kid.”

-- 3rd Person POV --

“What, no watch today?” Tony furrowed his brows at Bruce’s question.

“Of course I have a watch today.  I have a watch for every day of the week,” he scoffed, lifting his wrist to show off the rather expensive Rolex.

“Umm dude...?” Clint started.

“Yeah, I know it’s awesome, and no, you cannot try it on,” Tony smirked.  “I have a very strict look don’t touch policy.  These bad boys cost quite the pretty penny, and I wouldn’t want any of you trying to take it from me.”  Clint just shrugged in defeat and unpaused his video game -- it wasn’t his fault his friend interrupted him trying to help.

“Tony, look at your wrist,” Steve rolled his eyes at the pompous man’s antics.

“What, just so I can admire it--” he cut himself off as his eyes landed on the bare skin of his wrist.  “...Where the hell is my watch?”

“Maybe you forgot to put one on today?” Bruce shrugged, going back to his computer as he continued to work.

“No, I didn’t forget; I never forget,” Tony snapped.  “It was there this morning, and now it’s gone.”   He yanked up his sleeve to search in vain for the incredibly expensive missing item.

“Hey, maybe Tony was pick-pocketed, too,” Clint joked absentmindedly before cursing at some ‘dumbass little camping noob’ who kept killing him.

Tony’s eyes widened in realization.  “Holy shit, it was the kid.”

“What?” Steve frowned.

“The kid!  The kid who spilled coffee on me today!”  He shouted.  “I had my watch, then she shook my hand, and now the watch is gone.  She totally took it!”

Clint paused the game again.  “Wait, so basically some kid took your custom watch, which is worth thousands of dollars, right off your wrist, and you didn’t even notice?”  Tony bobbed his head up and down frantically.  “Hold on... You don’t think...” Clint glanced between the three other men in the room.

“(H/C) hair?” Steve asked.

“(E/C) eyes?” Bruce called, suddenly no longer able to focus on his work.

Tony nodded slowly with wide eyes.  Reality crashed down on all three of them.

A wide smile slowly took over Clint’s face.  “So you mean to tell me that three of the Avengers, the Earth’s greatest defenders, got scammed by the same teenage girl in less than a month?”  The three men were silent, each of them staring at the ground as they started to question how smart they actually were.

About 30 seconds later, the silence was broken.  “Nat, you’ll never believe what just happened.  I can’t believe you weren’t home for this,” Clint talked excitedly into the phone while his teammates all slowly left the room to sulk alone.

------- Time Skip -------

It had been a whole month since I had gotten the watch off Tony Stark.  I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the amount of zeros on the offer the pawn shop had given me.  It was probably one of the best days of my life.  Immediately, I had gone out and bought myself a meal at an actual restaurant, and let me tell you, they weren’t kidding when they said restaurant food is delicious.  Every protein bar and bag of chips in the world couldn’t live up to the food I ate that day.  And with that kind of money, I could be eating like that for maybe even a year!  Still, I knew what I had to do.  

It was almost Christmas.  With the money I’d just gotten, I could afford to buy each and every kid at the orphanage actual brand new presents that year, instead of the crummy second-hand stuff that had to be shared between three or four kids that I usually brought.  So, I went out and blew a good three quarters of my new budget on toys, and not the kind from thrift shops or even the ones from the big department stores.  I could finally get them toys from one of the fancy stores that had display windows.  And it was worth it, too, seeing the pure amazement that lit up those kids’ eyes when they saw there was enough for all of them.  I then spent another quarter of the money on nonperishable foods that I donated to the homeless shelter plus one massive turkey for their Christmas feast. 

After all of that, I was left with around 20 dollars for myself.  Usually I can make money like that last with just a few extra marks, but as the month dragged on and less and less people were out on the streets at night, my budget ran thin.  Eventually, I reached my breaking point.  I’d gone I think four days now without any food.  My stomach growled loudly, begging me to give it something, anything.  I just sighed and receded further into the fabric of my thin, worn down coat that I’d found a few days back by a dumpster -- the coat I used to wear long traded in for a couple spare dollars.  Sure, the wind cut through it like a knife, but hell, it was better than nothing.

I glanced up as I heard the crunching of footsteps in the snow, my heard immediately leaping into my throat at the prospect of there being people out.  I frowned when I saw who they were.  A couple walking together, chatting away about something or another.  Normally, I would never choose a couple to target -- it was too easy for one of them to spot what I was doing to the other -- but I had gotten desperate.  I was freezing cold, and I needed food now.

So, I walked directly towards them and crashed my shoulder into the guy’s, my hand slipping into his pocket.  I thanked whatever higher power was watching over me when my hand came into contact with a money clip.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and slipped my hand back out before continuing to walk at a casual pace away from the two, tucking the clip into my pocket.

-- 3rd Person POV --

“Well that was rude,” Clint huffed, dusting himself off.

Natasha stared at the back of the young girl who continued to walk away like nothing had happened.  “Hey, Clint,” she muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your wallet?”

“I put it back in my... pocket....” Clint froze when he realized he couldn’t feel the familiar clip in his jacket pocket.  He whirled around to look at the girl, who was already a ways away.  “Hey!  Get back here!”  He screamed, breaking into a run, Natasha quickly following suit.

-- Your POV --

“Hey!  Get back here!”  I glanced back with wide eyes, my heart leaping into my throat before immediately sprinting.

I ran through the snow, turning right and left through back alleys and narrow shortcuts, thanking my past self for never eating well, as my skinny form was able to stay on top of the snow for the most part.  Still, somehow I hadn’t lost the two adults chasing me yet.  They had barely fallen a foot or two behind over the last eight blocks.  My stamina was quickly running out, the malnourishment over the past week finally catching up to me.  I felt dizzy, and my chest burned as I focused on continuing to put one foot in front of the other.  I turned down an alleyway with a brick wall at the end.

“Ha!  We’ve finally caught you!”  The man behind me panted.  I completely ignored him, not pausing a single step as I sprinted towards the wall.

“Uhh, hey, kid?  Rock beats teenager...” He called warily.  I continued to ignore him.  I was only five feet away.  “Stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself!” he shouted just before I jumped, pressing my feet into the bricks to launch my further and further up.  I reached as high as I could and just barely caught the edge of the wall with my fingertips.  I swung my other arm up and forced my arms to pull myself to the top.

I panted as I gazed down from the top of the wall, the couple staring back up at me.  “Holy shit,” the man muttered, to which the woman immediately smacked him in the arm.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.  “I was hungry.”  I wasn’t really sure why I was apologizing.  Granted, I knew what I was doing wasn’t very nice, but I don’t recall ever apologizing before.  Maybe it’s because they reminded me of my parents -- or, at least, what I imagined my parents to be like.  Maybe it’s because I was so dizzy that I couldn’t really think straight.  I nodded slightly to the two before turning around, preparing myself to jump down the other side.

Suddenly, a massive wave of dizziness and nausea smacked me in the face.  I groaned slightly and put my hand to my forehead, trying to get a hold of myself.  Evidently, that didn’t work, because the next thing I knew, I was falling.

Time seemed to slow as I fell through the air.  I probably shouldn’t pass out right now, the surprisingly calm thought entered my mind.  If I do, I’ll most likely just freeze to death.  Then again, passing out would save me a lot of pain from falling.  Alright, I guess that’s it then.  I’ll pass out now and hope I wake up in time to not die.  My eyes fluttered closed just before I hit the ground, the fog in my brain thickening as I finally allowed myself to just give in to it.

-- 3rd Person POV --

Clint grunted as he caught the girl.  He was expecting to fall to the ground with her, only really serving to break her fall, but was surprised to find that she wasn’t even heavy enough to knock him down.  Natasha made her way over to his side, looking down at the little thief in her friend’s arms.

“She’s light as a feather,” Clint murmured with a frown on his face, “and freezing to the touch.”

“She said she was hungry,” Natasha muttered thoughtfully.

Clint grit his teeth and nodded, determined.  “Alright, that settles it.  We’re taking her back to the tower.”

Natasha glanced at him warily.  “You sure?  The others might not be so accepting.”

“They’re gonna have to be,” he stated, already walking back, holding the girl as close as he could in an attempt to warm her up.

#Avengers #avengers one shot #avengers imagine #avengers reader insert #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x y/n

[couldntbedamned]

Our Road Gets Better With Every Bend

Summary:  Peter's getting ready for his junior year at Columbia. But before he goes back to school, there's the matter of his 21st birthday to deal with. Which is inevitably going to affect The Rules he and Stephen have. And what should be a nice night out for Peter's birthday takes a bit of a detour when a former acquaintance from Peter's freshman year unexpectedly runs into the happy couple.

Stephen's not jealous. No, not one bit.

Warnings/AO3 Tags:  Domestic Discipline, Relationship Discussions, Healthy Relationships, Peter is a Little Shit, Drinking, Underage Drinking, Insecure Stephen Strange, Birthdays, Birthday Sex, Fluff and Smut, Stephen Strange is a Softy at Heart, Stephen Strange is Also Dirty AF, Peter Parker is of Legal Age, College Student Peter Parker

Our Road Gets Better With Every Bend

_______

The fall semester loomed.

Peter had mixed feelings on that fact.

He enjoyed school - he really did! But he lived on campus at Columbia and that meant that outside of the times the school closed for breaks and a handful of carefully selected weekends, Peter would be separated from Stephen the majority of the time.

He’d broached the subject of living at the Sanctum and just commuting to classes with Stephen when he’d first come home for the summer. It had been a long discussion and Peter had reluctantly conceded that it was actually more conducive to his concentration to live on campus, where the rules didn’t loom over him. But it didn’t mean he wouldn’t miss Stephen terribly.

He had his books bought. (A scam if there ever was one. No book was worth hundreds of dollars, he maintained. Stephen, who’d written for textbooks used for medical schools and received royalties for doing so, had raised an eyebrow. “Seriously. Two words change and suddenly the price gets jacked up by a hundred dollars!”) He’d bought a few new shirts, pairs of jeans, and a pair of sneakers. He’d even broken down and didn’t fight when Stephen had presented him with the newest StarkPad, equipped with a holo-projected keyboard, specialized stylus, and protective case.

Aunt May had gone with him as he shopped, since she had an eye for quality and because even though he made insane money even as a part-time Avenger, Peter hated spending money on himself. It was nice to spend time with her; she’d taken some time to warm up to the idea of Peter in a relationship with someone as old as Stephen. In fact, when Peter had moved in with Stephen there had been a period of a few months where they hadn’t even spoken to each other. He knew that Stephen had met privately with May, but he hadn’t asked for the details since he was just glad that she’d come around.

May had spent plenty of their outing teasing Peter about his ‘man friend’ and the high life he had to be living in Manhattan. Peter had teased her right back about dating such a high-ranking employee of Stark Industries and asked how Happy was doing. They’d enjoyed a nice lunch before returning to the Sanctum. Stephen was away at Kamar-Taj, but Wong was there for a couple of days, so he’d conjured a portal to May’s place so she wouldn’t have to take the subway back to Queens.

Peter put his new things away in his bedroom, removing much of the temptation of starting to wear them before school started. Wong was in the library when Peter tracked him down, curious if he had any preferences for dinner. Wong had insisted that Peter didn’t need to cook for him but had graciously accepted when Peter told him that he’d be cooking anyways, and it was easier to cook for two people than for just one.

So, Peter threw a casserole together with tuna, peas, and noodles. Wong joined him at the kitchen table, and they talked about anything and everything. Peter had been especially delighted to hear more stories from Wong about Stephen’s early days at Kamar-Taj and how he’d made a fool of himself over and over before he’d finally fixed his perspective.

“He’s not going to be happy I told you,” Wong warned.

“He’ll get over it,” Peter said flippantly. “So… how long is he going to be away, do you know?”

“He’s overseeing current class of Novices as they attempt to pass into the ranks of the Adepts. He should be back in a day or so.”

“How come you’re not there with him?”

“Because one of the Novices is my niece and I can’t be impartial in this matter,” Wong admitted.

“I suppose that makes sense,” Peter said.

After cleaning up and putting the dishes in the dishwasher to run, Peter decided he’d play with his new StarkPad. He knew that Stephen had probably gotten a steep discount on it from Mr. Stark, but the gesture still warmed him. (Even if he’d rather Stephen not spent that kind of money on him.)

He went through the set-up quickly; the products that Stark Industries put out were ridiculously intuitive. He downloaded the student app from Columbia along with the apps his professors had emailed him that they’d be using for the semester. He was able to download copies of the syllabi that were already available and start plotting out his calendar. He tested out the keyboard, delighted that he’d be able to type anywhere he found himself thanks to the holo-projection.

Then he put some of his favorite games on the tablet, syncing his accounts so he could keep his progress regardless of what device he was on. Gameplay was even faster than on his laptop, and since he found he could even holo-project a controller for the games (along with a note from Mr. Stark that read “You’re welcome, Kid.”), just as immersive.

It was, he thought, the best gift ever, and he was so glad he’d caved and let Stephen get it for him.

When Stephen got home, he would get one hell of a blow job.

Stephen had returned from Kamar-Taj while Peter was still asleep. Peter hadn’t even stirred or felt when Stephen joined him under the covers. (Of course, it was hard to be a light sleeper in Stephen’s bed, given that the sheets and blankets were almost supernaturally comfortable.)

But Peter did wake before Stephen and determined to make good on his promise to himself, decided to give him some incentive to wake up as well.

Peter toyed with the idea of pulling down Stephen’s boxers or just using the slit in them to pull out his cock. In the end, he went with the slit, just because it was easier and honestly, felt dirtier for some reason. He licked the head, delighted when he felt his prize start to harden. He kept licking for a few moments before suckling on the head and teasing the veined shaft with his hands. There was so much of Stephen and Peter didn’t think he’d ever get his fill.

When he started taking more of Stephen’s cock into his mouth only to pull back to suck the head, hands buried themselves in his hair.

“Either do it properly or I’m taking over,” Stephen warned, voice still raspy with sleep.

Peter weighed his options.

He teased Stephen some more until the hands in his hair tightened their grip and began moving Peter’s head for him.

He relaxed his throat, grateful that he didn’t have a gag reflex thanks to the spider bite. He loved when Stephen got like this, dominant and sure of what he wanted from Peter. He let himself be used, knowing that Stephen would see to it that he got his own pleasure soon enough - Stephen was nothing if not a giver.

When Stephen’s thrusts grew sloppy, Peter pulled back so that he’d actually be able to taste the release. He swallowed as Stephen came with a loud groan, suckling until he was sure he’d gotten it all.

When Stephen’s grip loosened and Peter sat back, he noted with satisfaction how blissed out Stephen looked.

“That was a nice way to wake up,” Stephen said with a smile.

“Oh, you earned it,” Peter told him.

“And how did I do that?”

“You bought me the StarkPad,” Peter told him. “It’s amazing.”

Stephen let out a chuckle. “I didn’t buy anything. It was free, part of SI’s outreach to its medical consultants.”

“So, you regifted,” Peter stated flatly.

“You hate when I spend more than a hundred dollars on you, and I don’t need the damned thing. Believe it or not, I do know how to be thrifty,” Stephen said, sitting up.

“Cheapskate,” Peter finally joked with a grin. “And I just wasted a perfectly good blow job on that.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say you wasted it,” Stephen argued. He reached out and tugged Peter forward, wrapping his arms around him when Peter fell on his chest. “It was pretty spectacular.”

“Yeah?”

“Solid tens across the board,” Stephen said.

“Solid enough for you to take care of me in the shower?”

“I can take care of you now,” Stephen said.

Peter felt Stephen’s erection under him. He let out a happy sigh. “I love magic.”

“Enough to ride me?”

Peter bit his lip and nodded. He’d been working on his confidence, but still felt so self-conscious whenever he was on top. Stephen always assured him that he was magnificent while riding his dick, and hopeful that one day he’d believe it.

Stephen tossed the bottle of lube to him. “Give me a show?”

Now this Peter was confident in.

He laid back, splayed his legs, and lifted his hips.

“Oh fuck,” Stephen breathed out.

Peter took as much time as he dared prepping himself. He coated a single finger in lube and circled his rim teasingly. He swirled it round and around before slowly pressing in. He worked it in and out, never going quite as far as he could, all in the name of giving Stephen show.

He slicked up another finger and again teased, pressed in. He split his fingers into a v, hoping Stephen had enough of a view, and twisted them. It had the desired effect and Peter drank in Stephen’s low groan like it was nectar.

“You’re so gorgeous, Peter,” Stephen said, eyes intent on Peter’s fingers - three of them now. “You’ve no idea.”

Peter continued to stretch himself out, playing with his hole and canting his hips.

“Can you take me?” Stephen finally asked, stroking himself.

Peter eyed Stephen’s monster of a cock. He felt himself clench at the sight and heard the breath Stephen sucked in.

“You’ll make me,” Peter said, rising up. “Even when I’m all stretched out, you have to make me take you.” And fuck he loved every second of it, loved every delicious inch Stephen filled him with.

He adjusted himself so that he was over Stephen’s cock. Before he could guide cock to hole, Stephen brushed away his hand. “Let me.” Then Stephen used one hand on his lower back to steady him and the other to rest against Peter’s slick hole.

“Just let yourself feel, Darling,” he urged, moving his other hand to Peter’s side once his cockhead had breached him.

Even with the stretching, and the lube, and hell - gravity! - it was a formidable feat, sinking down on Stephen’s cock. He could feel the tension in Stephen’s body, tightly coiled as he forced himself to not thrust up and pull Peter down. He had such incredible control, his Stephen.

“You could just pull me down,” Peter told him as he took in another inch or so. “You’re strong enough, so why don’t you?”

The look he received had his cock leaking and fire stirring low in his gut.

“Because I enjoy watching you struggle to take me.”

Oh. Fuck.

He reached for his cock, and his hand was swept away. Magic.

“You’ll come just from this,” Stephen told him. “Another sight I enjoy.”

It was enough to draw a moan from his lips. His thighs trembled as he spread them further and let his body drop lower, down and down as he split himself on Stephen’s cock.

He was panting by the time he was fully seated. His thighs burned and he was just so… aware that Stephen was inside him, filling him.

Stephen grasped one of his hands, laced their fingers. He settled them on Peter’s abdomen and… oh.

“Can you feel me?” Stephen asked lowly. “How I stretch you, mold you to take me?”

Peter nodded; eyes closed. He could feel it, feel everything.

There was a small smack to his thigh.

“Give me your words, Darling.”

“Yeah,” Peter finally said with a shudder. “Fuck, Stephen, I ju- fuck…”

“Ride me, Love. You know what to do.”

He did.

Slowly but surely, Peter moved and fell into a rhythm. It was hard and it called for muscles he otherwise only used as Spider-Man, but the sensation of rising up, feeling the length and girth of Stephen as he did so, only to lower again and somehow feel even tighter around him was incredible. And the way that Stephen looked at him, eyes hooded and filled with desire, made him feel powerful.

He tried different movements, changed how he angled his hips as he worked himself up and down on Stephen’s cock. His face flamed when Stephen encouraged him - “Use me, Peter. I’m yours.” Peter nearly collapsed onto him, though, when the stars aligned, and the angle ensured that everything was perfect as he sank down.

“There we go,” Stephen told him. “Let me help you.”

His hands came to rest on Peter’s hips. With the gentlest of squeezes, he helped Peter find the angle again and again. Shocks of pleasure raced through him on every rise and fall and it wasn’t long before Peter came - untouched - with a cry.

“Absolutely stunning,” Stephen murmured. He took Peter’s cock in hand and stroked as if to make sure he got everything. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” Peter said with a sigh. “So good.” He leaned down to kiss Stephen.

Stephen rolled his hips and Peter gasped. “O-oh fuck! Do that again!”

“Mind if we move?”

“N-no! Please, just hit that spot again!” Peter encouraged.

“If I ever stop telling you how perfect you are,” Stephen said as he helped Peter off of him and onto his front. “That will be your sign that I’ve either been possessed or replaced by one of those fucking Skrulls.” He slid back in and Peter couldn’t even think of holding himself up on his hands; his face fell into the mattress.

“Yeah, okay,” Peter said after he turned his face so he could breath. “Got it. Now fuck me, please!”

Stephen did. He pulled back and drove back in, setting a pace that was just a degree past too rough. Peter didn’t mind; even at his most tender, Stephen never treated him like he was some fragile, breakable thing. No, Stephen pushed him into his pleasure while taking his own and Peter wouldn’t have it any other way.

“I’ve missed this,” Stephen panted out. His hands roamed from Peter’s hips, up his back, and down under his front as he continued driving into him. “I’ve missed you. Even just a couple of days away is hell.”

“Makes this extra-worth it, though,” Peter answered. He pushed back into Stephen’s thrusts.

It wasn’t long before Stephen’s rhythm broke and with several harsh thrusts, he spilled himself inside Peter with a long, loud groan.

“I love mornings,” Stephen finally said, once they’d both caught their breath and were sprawled on the bed, limbs tangled. “I mean, not every morning, but definitely the ones that include you.”

“Same,” Peter said. “These first few weeks of school are going to suck. At least I’ll be legal for the back-to-school parties.”

Stephen didn’t say anything at that, and Peter wondered if he’d said something wrong.

They pulled themselves out of bed and showered before going down to the kitchen to deal with breakfast.

“Did I do something wrong?” Peter asked when Stephen remained quiet while they ate.

Stephen’s expression softened. “No, not at all. I’m just thinking.”

“Bitcoin for your thoughts?” He tore into a piece of bacon. So good, he thought.

“You’re turning twenty-one this week.”

“Yep!” Peter acknowledged cheerfully. “May said she’s been preparing for this since I turned eighteen. She already has my first drink planned out for the lunch she’s taking me to on Monday.” His smiled faded when he noticed that Stephen didn’t look nearly as cheerful. “You can come, too!” he added. “It’s just kind of a tradition in her family.”

“It’s not that,” Stephen said slowly. “But I do think we’re going to need to have a discussion on how your new legality will factor in with our rules.”

“I’m not going to be allowed to drink?” Peter asked. He put his fork down. Suddenly, food didn’t seem appetizing. “Seriously?”

“I didn’t say that,” Stephen said.

“It’s not like I’m planning on going on some bender and ending up in the hospital!”

Stephen gave him a stern look. “I’m very glad to hear that, and I’d appreciate it if you’d watch your tone.”

“It just feels like I’m having something taken away before I even get it.”

Stephen sighed. “I didn’t say you wouldn’t be allowed to drink, Peter. All I said was that we’d need to discuss how your drinking will fit in with our dynamic.”

“I can’t even get drunk,” Peter muttered.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“I said that I can’t even get drunk,” Peter said, voice clear.

“And how do you know that?” Stephen sounded suspicious.

“Because I went to high school and acted like any other stereotypical college freshmen that first semester,” Peter answered.

“How many times did you test this little theory of yours?”

Peter frowned. “Six or seven times. But none of it happened after we started the whole domestic discipline thing. After we added that, I figured it was covered under rule number two. So I didn’t. The closest I’ve come is to drinking is the mocktail nights the CU Food Bank puts on to raise money and the root beer keger parties the campus police sponsor.”

“Just how much did you drink, when you did?”

Peter shifted. “The first time, a six-pack. Then I tried vodka, then tequila, mixed drinks, everclear, whis-”

“Okay, I get the picture.”

“Are you mad at me?,” Peter asked after a few moments of quiet.

“No,” Stephen said. He pinched the bridge of his nose and then wiped down his face. “No, I… I’m frustrated.”

“At me?”

“Mostly myself.”

“Why?” Peter asked. “I’m the one who’s unbearable.”

Stephen narrowed his eyes and Peter simply shrugged. “I’m mostly tolerable,” he corrected.

“I’m frustrated because it’s difficult to balance wanting to protect and take care of you while also letting you live your life. Too little concern and you’ll be reckless, too much concern and I’m controlling.”

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” Peter said after a moment. “I’m sorry for that. You’re never unreasonable about any of this. Most of the time.”

“Thank you,” Stephen said. Though he did shoot Peter a look that told him he was barely off of thin ice.

“Has anyone ever noticed that you don’t get drunk?”

Peter shook his head. “I don’t think so. Usually anyone around was pretty hammered by that point.”

Stephen was deep in thought for a few minutes. “We’ll finalize this later, but outside of your birthday, no drinking on school nights. It’s only two more years.”

Peter thought about it. “Fair enough.”

“Have you thought about where you want to go for dinner Monday night?”

He shrugged.

“That’s not an answer,” Stephen said.

“I just don’t know,” Peter said with a sigh. “Like, I kinda wanna go somewhere fancy, because you only turn twenty-one once, you know? But then, I don’t belong in fancy places, because I’m just a poor kid from Queens. But as much as I love our usual places, I want somewhere different. Somewhere special.”

Stephen’s expression was heart-meltingly soft. “Anywhere you pick is fine,” he said. “And you belong wherever you choose to belong. Except for a drug den, obviously. But you’re not just a poor kid from Queens. Even without the impressive salary as a part-time Avenger, you’re so much more than you think you are.”

“You know, sometimes I get the feeling you think I’m pretty great,” Peter said. His face grew hot with embarrassment.

“One day I’ll get you to believe it, too.”

Peter couldn’t help it. He looked away. How could Stephen just do that? Talk so sweet like that? When he’d been so filthy in bed that morning? And had dressed him down with biting disappointment just the other week, sending Peter to his corner before later putting Peter across his knee?

“So. For dinner. Just uh, surprise me. I’m sure it’ll be perfect, wherever it is.”

“Alright then,” Stephen agreed.

Stephen’s choice turned out to be a moderately up-scale Italian restaurant in SoHo.

From the look of the place, he’d picked just right, Peter thought.

They were led to a cozy little table in a corner and when Stephen gestured to the closest corner seat, Peter sat gratefully. He blushed, grinning when Stephen sat in one of the seats next to him, rather than across.

The waiter handed them their menus and, at Stephen’s request, the drink menu.

Peter couldn’t help but roll his eyes (knowing Stephen would, in fact, let it slide because it was his birthday) as he produced his ID for the skeptical waiter.

“I know, I look twelve,” he said in a wounded tone. “Can’t even grow a mustache.”

“Got a cousin that way,” the waiter said as he studied the ID. “Tenured professor over in Montana, still gets asked if he needs help finding the right building on campus almost on the daily. Happy Birthday. I’ll give you both some time to look everything over.”

When they were alone - and a subtle but effective privacy spell cast - Stephen looked to Peter, amused.

“So, when you were breaking the law and recklessly experimenting with that spider liver of yours, what was your poison?”

“Not beer,” Peter said. “Tastes disgusting. I don’t like tequila either, or whiskey. I liked the Jungle Juice at some of the parties. And the fruit at the bottom. Oh, and I know it’s not alcohol, but some of the fruity mocktails I’ve had are pretty good.”

“You prefer sweet, then,” Stephen decided. “Trust me?”

Thinking about how he got to spend the evening of his birthday with the person he loved most, he looked over at Stephen, and smiled. “Bet.”

Stephen sighed heavily, head dropping. “You’re such a fucking brat,” he said, looking up at Peter with fondness.

“Still love me though.”

Stephen ordered them both a glass of wine when the waiter returned, a dry red Peter didn’t even try to pronounce for himself and a sweet red for Peter.

Then he ordered the food, raising a brow at Peter when the waiter went to put in their order and retrieve their drinks. “You said my decision.”

“Technically, yes,” Peter said. “Since technicalities are apparently allowed tonight.”

“Peter,” Stephen warned lightly.

“Right, sorry.” Peter decided not to test Stephen’s good graces further. “So, you have a plan in place for next weekend?”

Peter would be moving in to his dorm room at Columbia on Friday.

“I’m due at Kamar-Taj for what Wong calls my Annual Moping Tour.”

Peter snorted.

“I’m glad someone finds Wong funny,” Stephen said, just a little petulantly.

“You’ll get through it,” Peter assured him. “Like you said, it’s only two more years, and we have breaks and summer.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Then once I’m graduated, I get you all to myself, threats to reality aside.”

Stephen shook his head fondly. “You already have me all to yourself.”

Peter’s reply was interrupted by a waitress approaching, carrying a glass of wine in each hand.

“Pardon my interruption,” she said cheerfully. “I have the merlot.” Stephen made a gesture and she set it in front of him. “And the Brachetto d’Acqui.” She set the glass down by Peter and then did a double take before her pretty brown face broke into a dazzling grin. “Peter! Hi!”

Peter stared. She was familiar, he thought. Very familiar. Bright green eyes, smooth brown skin, and what he would swear was very curly and bouncy brown hair pulled back into a tight bun. So pretty. And her smile. He knew that smile. Had been dazzled by it.

“Gabriella! How are you?”

She beamed. “I’m good! Graduating after this semester, actually.”

“Econ-Stats, right?”

“Supply, Demand, and Lying Through Numbers!” She laughed softly and winked at Stephen.

“Oh, sorry,” Peter said, finally processing the carefully blank expression Stephen wore. “Stephen, this is Gabriella. We met at Columbia when I was a freshman. Gabriella, this my uh, my boyfriend, Stephen.”

“Oh!” she gave Stephen a friendly up-and-down. “You’re a lucky one,” she told him. “Peter’s a real catch.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Stephen said, though his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” Gabriella smiled at Stephen, oblivious to his irritation. “Anyways, enjoy your drinks, and have a good evening!”

She walked off and Peter waited until she was firmly out of earshot.

“Really?”

“She’s more than a friend,” Stephen said finally, still staring in the direction she'd walked off.

Peter sighed. “Can we not do this right now?”

“Who is she, really?” Stephen asked as he turned to look at him..

“When we first got together, I told you I wasn’t a virgin,” Peter said. “That I’d lost it to a girl after a frat party. That was her.”

Stephen looked again in the direction she’d went. “I see.”

“I told you: it was one time, and neither of us felt too great about it afterwards. I haven’t seen her since. She was probably just being friendly because it’s her job.”

“You’re right,” Stephen told him.

“Oh, that’s the best birthday present ever!” Peter teased, wanting the light-hearted Stephen from before they interrupted back. “You telling me I’m right!”

“Don’t get too excited, it just puts you in the same category as a broken clock.”

Peter frowned.

“I’m sorry,” Stephen said after a moment. “That was uncalled for.” He looked mildly embarrassed. “I’ll try to keep my jealousy to myself. Try your wine.”

Peter did, taking a sip of his and then closed his eyes as the flavor exploded on his tongue. It was sweet, yes, but it had a bite to it he liked.

“This is nice,” he said.

“You like it?”

“Yeah. It’s sweet, but not too sweet.”

“It should go well enough with the food,” Stephen said.

It actually did, Peter found out.

And they had a nice meal, the conversation was light, and they spent a lovely hour or so walking around SoHo.

When they returned to the Sanctum, Peter had barely started to loosen his tie before Stephen was on him.

“Wha-!”

Stephen gathered him close, claiming his mouth with a fervor that had Peter’s head spinning. His back hit something soft and he realized that they were on their bed, and after a few seconds, their clothes were gone.

Magic. Which Stephen usually loathed to be flippant with.

“She can’t have you,” Stephen growled against Peter’s throat. “I don’t care that she’s had you before, you’re mine, now.”

“Stephen!”

He couldn’t get much out after that because Stephen’s mouth didn’t seem to want to leave his. Long, scarred fingers seemed to be everywhere on him, stroking, with neatly trimmed and filed nails raking ever so slightly. Head spinning, tongue being sucked by his favorite person, Peter let himself be consumed.

Stephen rushed through stretching him, though Peter felt the tingle of magic and knew that rushed or not, Stephen was still thorough. He arched into the fingers that traced his rim, tried without success to get them inside him in any kind of substantial rhythm. And the entire time, Stephen’s mouth only broke free to breathe before kissing him again and again.

There was little Peter could do but surrender to the fire that seemed to have overtaken his lover. Not that he wanted to do anything else. Under Stephen was his favorite place to be, after all.

When Stephen finally sank into him, his thick long cock forcing its way inside, he let out a pleased moan while Stephen actually snarled as he bottomed out.

“Mine.”

Peter’s legs lifted to wrap around Stephen’s back as the older man began to move.

Stephen sucked deep marks on Peter’s neck, his clavicles, shoulders. As if that wasn’t enough, Peter’s hands were up by his head, pressed back into the pillow and unmoving.

“Perfect.” Nip. “Brilliant.” Kiss. “Gorgeous.” Lick. “Mine.”

“Yeah, of course I’m yours,” Peter managed. He rapidly headed towards that floaty place that Stephen’s fucking so often sent him to. The force of Stephen’s cock driving into him, hitting that spot had him keening.

“I won’t share you.”

“Ah!” Stephen continued to pound into him. “D-don’t w-want fuck anyone e-else!”

It was last time Peter was in a state of coherent speech for a very long time.

When Stephen spilled inside Peter with a loud groan, he gathered some of the release on his fingers and drew his initials over Peter’s hip while swallowing his cock. Then he seemed intent on sucking out Peter’s soul through the act and had Peter begging and moaning for release. And when Peter had finally come, Stephen had taken Peter’s finger, messed it with the fluid, and used Peter’s finger to trace P B P on his own hip.

And whether it was magic or just Stephen being his usual impressive self - Peter would never know - Stephen slid back inside and fucked him again.

Over and over, Stephen took him apart. Not just fucking him into another state of consciousness, but in the way he kissed him, sucked him, bit him, worshiped him when all was said and done.

Mind floaty and body thoroughly sated and sore, Peter hummed in contentment, as Stephen stroked the hair back from his forehead.

“It’s good you’ve worked on that jealousy problem of yours,” Peter mumbled. “You’ve really grown as a person.” He didn’t even jolt at the swat on his ass.

“Have some water,” Stephen rasped out. He handed Peter a bottle of electrolyte-enhanced water.

“Only if you drink some, too,” Peter said, unscrewing the cap.

“Telling me what to do?” Stephen raised a brow.

“Nope, just trying to take care of you, too,” Peter said. “If I need water, then you definitely do.” He smiled playfully up at Stephen. “Maybe some ibuprofen, too, for your back after that performance.”

“And here I was, thinking you didn’t want a spanking on your birthday.” But his words held little heat and he grabbed his own bottle, drank.

Peter let himself be swept up in Stephen’s aftercare. He didn’t fight on the shower, or Gatorade, or light snack the man insisted they have. He did insist, however, on changing the bedding while Stephen secured the Sanctum for the night.

He was waiting up when Stephen returned.

“Everything good?”

“Yes. All secure.”

“And what about you? Are you secure, now?” Peter asked.

“I’m sorry?”

Peter straightened where he sat up against the headboard. “That wasn’t ‘happy birthday’ sex. That was more like ‘how dare anyone other than me have boned my boyfriend’ sex.”

Stephen’s cheeks flushed pink.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Peter continued. “It’s hot. But like, you have to know I’m not planning on leaving you, especially not for a one night stand I had more than a year ago.”

“She was flirting!” Stephen protested.

“Stephen, no waitress is ever actually interested in any guy she’s waiting on. It’s all about getting a good tip!”

“She called you a catch!”

“I am!” Peter retorted. “She also said you were lucky to have me. And yeah, I agree. You do, too, unless you’ve just been saying that to get me naked.”

“Peter, I-”

“You knew I’d been with someone before we got together.”

“Knowing that and having it thrown in my face are two different things,” Stephen said sharply.

“A chance run-in at a restaurant isn’t throwing it in your face. The same way your ex-girlfriend being my doctor isn’t throwing it in my face.”

For a few moments, Stephen said nothing. Then he huffed out a sigh. “Well, now I feel like an idiot.”

“Hey, if I can’t call myself an idiot, then you can’t, either,” Peter said.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you during dinner or made you feel like I don’t trust you.”

“Only a little, but whatever. The sex was pretty amazing, so it evens out.”

It should have been early morning, when Peter woke up after they fell asleep together.

“Nope, I have time frozen,” Stephen whispered in his ear. “So, I can make sure you get proper ‘happy birthday sex’.”

Peter had no complaints as Stephen slid inside him. Or when his lover laced their fingers and slowly, reverently, fucked in and out. It didn’t stay slow; it rarely did. Stephen’s words this time weren’t of a need to possess, but of how much he loved Peter, how perfect he thought Peter was.

Peter moaned as he was brought over, stars blinding his eyes and lightning shooting through him in pure pleasure. And when Stephen all but collapsed on top of him, he held the man close and accepted the weight. “Love you.”

“I love you. Happy Birthday.”

Peter studied Stephen over his mug of coffee during breakfast. (He’d had to beg for it; Stephen monitored his coffee intake strictly. In fairness, caffeine from coffee did things to him that carbonated caffeine didn’t. So, he understood the reasoning. But also, sometimes he just wanted a damned cup of coffee.)

“I’m going to have to plan something pretty spectacular for November,” he said.

“Why?” Stephen asked. He speared a cube of fried potato and dipped it in ranch dressing. Gross, Peter thought. He loved the man, but the ranch thing was just gross.

“Because it’ll be your birthday,” Peter said.

“I don’t age,” Stephen said. “And, strictly speaking, I’m millions of years old already.”

“So, no candles,” Peter agreed. “But it will still be your birthday.”

“It’s a long time away,” Stephen reminded him.

“Just a few months,” Peter countered. “A few months for me to plan everything out. And then? The sexiest Thursday ever.”

Stephen laughed. “Is it any wonder why I adore you?”

“I am adorable.”

“Yes,” Stephen said. “You really are.”

Later, when Stephen asked how close to finished was in packing for school, (“You promised last week you would be working on it and have it finished by tomorrow afternoon.”) Peter froze and then stuttered out that he had most things in his room, ready to be put into boxes.

“Then we’ll take care of that and once we’re finished, you can go and stand in the corner.”

Peter sighed. Back to reality.

(It was still a pretty great reality.)

He supposed he could keep putting up with them after all.

#spiderstrange #spideystrange #peter parker x stephen strange #stephen strange x peter parker #domestic discipline #couldntbedamned fic

[ducknotinarow]

Brooklyn tugged on the straps of her backpack, fingers gripping them tightly as she approaches her sister. It was no secret Brooklyn loved getting to explore the open World; spending a lot of time in the city, or in another country whenever they get the chance during missions to step back and look around. Asgard had truly captured Brooklyn’s heart though, both for it’s beauty, it’s life, and one particular person - Astrid,

“Hey Niiiina, are you busy?” Brooklyn asks, standing at her sister’s side, “I was gonna go and visit Asgard for the afternoon and, well, yanno dad doesn’t lemme go alone,” Not her fault everyone was so convincing with their scams, “And he’s busy with paperwork after the last mission, and I have no idea where Thor is either,” Then again, he encourages her to explore by herself despite Steve’s worry over both his daughters, “So, yanno, wanna come with? I was planning on visiting the library there...”

A half-lie. She was going to the juice place that Astrid happened to run in said library; her crush on the Asgardian woman was as subtle as Nina’s adoration for their dad,

“I’ll get you a new set of daggers, my treat, while we’re there~” 

It may be silly considering she was part of the Avengers, her dad was the Steve Rogers aka Captain America. She spares with Black widow, gets scolded by Tony Stark, does trash duty with the hulk...and yet she still was a fan deep down hanging from the couch freshly bought Captain America fan novel book full of more recent photos of the hero on current missions and whatnot. Seeing mentions of her and Brooklyn in it was oddly surreal on top of it all. Mindless kicking her feet over the back of the couch as she flipped through her current find when she noticed someone was standing beside the couch now.

“Hey Niiiina, are you busy?”

Eyeing her book as she slowly lowered it down and closed it, soon moving it off to the side to hide the cover of her book before she moved to sit properly on the couch now. "Course not just lounging around that all why what's up?" she asked pointing at Brookly as she gestured to the girl's backpack. "Ya planing a trip or somethin?" “I was gonna go and visit Asgard for the afternoon and, well, yanno dad doesn’t lemme go alone,”

Nina nodded in response to what Brook made mention of, everyone knew the number one rule when it came to poor, sweet, innocent, and beyond easy to trick Brooklyn after all. Nina would know from first-hand experience after all. She should not be smiling proudly over that thought of course.

“And he’s busy with paperwork after the last mission, and I have no idea where Thor is either,” "yeah, pop's got a shit ton of papers to take care of apparently from what I heard," considering that's why she snuck off to get her book since he would be too busy to notice. Thor was well who knew he liked to be on the move, after all, going to Asgard sounded fun though she'd only really been with Thor and others not really much chance to explore around with a crowd of the hero's in Thor's company.

“So, yanno, wanna come with? I was planning on visiting the library there...”

"Library?" Nina asked now she was more interested in why her sister suddenly wants to get out and about and more importantly off to Asgard. Smirking at her sister as she leaned forward on the arm of the couch. Brooklyn's crush had been the topic of some chatter among everyone in the tower after all. From how overly obvious she was about her attraction to the women who had caught the starry-eyed Rogers and all. She was so bad at being sublet about it, unlike Nina who was very sly and coy about everything herself.

“I’ll get you a new set of daggers, my treat, while we’re there~” Nina slightly scoffed at the bride tossed in as a way to seal the deal and all. Honestly, Nina would just go for going but know the exact reason did add some motive for Nina in this situation right now. Actting as if she really needed to think about it though as she leaned back slightly, and nodded her head well humming in thought. "Wellll I could go for some daggers in my inventory just to add in some weapons and all. Sides I don't mind going to the library either course gotta say I am feel'n thirsty maybe we can stop by the juice place first in there." Eyeing her sister for their actions before cracking a smile, her sister's half-life easily read through. "And maybe Astrid will be there?" moving to get off the couch finally as she casually stretches her arms up above her head. "That's her name right?" Smiling knowing as she lets her hand drop loosely by her sides and slightly chuckled to herself. "Jeez triple one for someone who worked with hydra and all ya think you'd be betta at lying and shit. If you wanna go see Astrid soon I'll come along no need to put on an act though you're so obvious." Nina playfully pointed out as she picked up her book carefully, "Come on let's go but I do still want those daggers to, don't forget that well you turn into mush after seeing her."

#muse| nina rogers #aflockofeathers #madamkezzie #[ star children til the end of the line aflockoffeathers] #muse interactions #((nina gotta start questioning her future sister in law after all uwu)) #((i need autocorrect to stop messing with how Nina speaks too u_u))

[xianarcissamalfoy]

Curiosity Killed the Kat. Satisfaction Brought her Back. Part 1— Avengers x platonic!OC— Loki x OC

Warnings: The Avengers being rude, mentions of torture, my OC being sassy, a pretty serious chapter, Loki being sweet, probably some other stuff

It was loud. It was annoying. It was, sadly, my alarm clock. Sorry, my name is Katherine Isabella Thomas, but everyone calls me Kit. I turned eighteen two months ago, and I am an Avenger.

My mother is Sarah Wilson-Carter, the younger sister of Sam Wilson; the Falcon. Now, don’t get me wrong. I loved my mother. But when she gave me up when I was nine, I wanted nothing more than to bash her skull in with Thor’s hammer (Sorry, I’m a mythology freak), especially since she gave me up because her new husband made her choose between us. Now, I live with my Uncle Sam. And ever since he became an Avenger, I lived in the compound with him.

I love the Avengers. I loved Captain America and Howard Stark and Peggy Carter (the list goes on) and I especially love Bucky Barnes. I’ve heard all the stories. Steve got his ass kicked in an alley and Bucky somehow always knew and saved him. Steve got the serum and rescued Bucky, the only thing Bucky was concerned about was Steve’s safety. Believe me, the only person that knows more about Bucky is... well, not Bucky that’s for sure. Steve or Natasha, probably.

I’m the baby of the Avengers. I’m a fully grown adult, but to them I’m still eleven years old. Which means, the nickname “Kitten” never went away. I liked when I was a kid, but now it’s kinda annoying. Like when people call me “Kat”. Honestly, any nickname they could come up with is going to be worse than “Kitten” but when you’re eighteen and the only thing you want is to be treated like you’re eighteen (other than a photo with Loki, of course), it gets annoying.

My clock read 8:00 am (wayyy too early when you stay up binge watching Game of Thrones or The Office, binge reading Harry Potter, or binge writing on Wattpad and Tumblr) and I quickly hit stop. I walked to my dresser and pulled on one of the many Black Sabbath t-shirts I stole from Tony.

My bare feet padded along the hardwood floor as I made my way to the dining room where everyone, including Thor and Tony, were. “Morning guys.” I yawned, making myself a cup of coffee.

“Is that my shirt?” Tony furrowed his brows as he played with the hem of it.

“Yeah.”

“So it’s you who’s been stealing my shirts and not Natasha or Wanda?” Tony huffed, pushing my cup out of the way and pouring himself a new one.

“Yeah.”

“Are you just going to keep saying ‘yeah’?” I looked up at him.

“Yeah.” Tony rolled his eyes as he leaned over the island. “You know how much money I could make off of this t-shirt? It’s currently listed at a quarter of a million dollars.” Rhodes let out a long whistle. “I wonder if I can make it to three quarters.”

“Kitten, we have more important things to talk about.” Steve interrupted. “Thor?”

“Thank you, Captain. You’ve all heard me talk about just how much my father hates Loki’s actions.”

“Don’t we all.” Tony muttered, receiving a glare from Thor.

“Anyways, Father has decided that Loki is no longer welcome in Asgard until he repays for his crimes against earth. Mother agrees. I was hoping that he could maybe... stay here? In the basement?” Clint spit out his coffee, choking on it. Natasha lent over to rub his back as I suppressed a giggle.

“Absolutely not. He is not coming within two hundred light years of Bruce and Kit.” I rolled my eyes at Clint’s statement. This is what I mean by overprotective.

“I agree. Having both Bruce and Kit in the compound while Loki is just a few floors underground... that’s not a good idea.” Steve agreed, looking around the table to see nods of agreement. Except from me, Wanda, Pietro, and Vision.

“Apologies, Captain, but I believe it most beneficial for Loki to repent for his crimes against Earth. He may not make it to that stage considering you all want to kill him, but regardless, Thor has repeatedly told you all that that wasn’t Loki who attacked New York. It was the mind stone. And if Loki was mind controlled, who’s to say he was ever truly evil?”

“I agree with the walking microwave.” Pietro spoke up, his hand gently massaging my shoulder. He was my best friend and he knew what I was thinking. “Besides, you forgave Wanda and I for knowingly trying to kill you all, including Kit, what is the difference?”

“You were kids. Loki wasn’t. The mind stone alters your emotions so that whatever you’re feeling is the only thing you can think about. In Loki’s case it was releasing an alien army into New York and killing eighty people.” Natasha growled, trying to hide under her calm demeanor.

“Natasha how many people have you killed?” I spoke up, my voice strong. “How many people have you guys killed, actually?”

“That’s Natasha’s past, Kitten. That’s not who she is now.” Sam reassured me but I merely scoffed.

“She wasn’t under mind control. It might be her past but if we’re going to treat Loki the way you guys are treating him, who’s to say this isn’t a scam? A ruse to get you all to trust her so she can stab you in the back? Do we truly know?” Natasha glared at the island, her grip so tight it began to bend the spoon.

“Kit, stop. This isn’t your decision-“ Steve ordered gently but I ignored him.

“What about you guys? You’ve all killed people. What’s the difference?”

“Those were bad people Kit. That’s the difference.” Bruce sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“But they had families. Friends. Lives ahead of them. Honestly are we any better than HYDRA? Any better than anyone? Who is to say who’s a good or bad person? Who is to put a group of people so high up on the throne, tat they can make such decisions. Is that our job? Because if that’s what the Avengers is all about you guys are idiots. No wonder Ross and all those countries wanted you to sign the Accords.” I snapped, saying the last sentence under my breath.

“Kit, you’re taking this way too personally.” My uncle announced. I chuckled slightly.

“Rule ten: ‘Never get personally involved on a case’.” I argued before turning to Steve. “And what about Bucky? He was mind controlled and we’ve all come to terms with that. Tony is still a bit sore because Bucky killed his parents but he’s trying. Why can’t we do the same for Loki?” I looked up at Thor. “You have my permission.”

“Mine too.” The twins announced together before squabbling over who said it first which ended up in them fighting on the floor. I smiled at the two. Wishing I had a sibling to do that with.

Vision agreed as well, leaving it up to the others. Bruce eventually broke, Sam and Rhodey as well. “Steve, Tony. We know Natasha and Clint aren’t backing down. It’s up to you. Well really and truly it wouldn’t matter because you’re outnumbered but still.” I smirked gently.

“Actually I’ve begun to see Kit’s point.” Clint muttered and all heads snapped towards him.

“You do?” I scrunched my nose.

“I don’t trust him.”

“I never said you needed to.”

“I don’t trust him, but I’m willing to allow him to try and gain some respect. Natasha and I are on the same page. He wasn’t completely in control of himself. I was brainwashed and mind controlled too. I know the trauma that lurks afterwards. If there is a sliver of a chance Loki can change back into the good man that Thor is always talking to Kit about, them why not give him a chance?”

“I guess it’s settled then.” Steve sighed. “Thor, bring him in. Stark, Banner, I know you guys have been working on the power cancelling bracelets. Are they finished?”

“Well there might still be a few kinks left in them. The twins are gonna be our test subjects for the moment. Kit you wanna come?” Tony asked and I shook my head.

“Nah I’ve got something I need to take care of before we’re all out on edge. I’ll see you guys later.” I hopped off the barstool and refilled my coffee before heading to the elevator. “Library please, Friday.” Thor squeezed into the elevator before the doors closed, taking up most of the space.

“Thank you, Lady Kit for standing up for my brother.” I looked up at Thor who was looking at me already.

“Everyone deserves a second chance. But if he tries something, I’ll kill him.” Thor chuckled, patting me on the head.

“You’re cute. And tiny.” Thor blew my threat off quickly. If only he knew it wasn’t quite empty.

When Loki arrived the whole compound was buzzing. Natasha and Sam forced me to suit up, not wanting to take any chances with Loki. Black armored leggings, an armored tank top, green boots that went up to my knees, and a black leather jacket with gold accents. It was my color scheme, because green was the color of my mother’s eyes. I still, to this day, honor her despite what she did to me.

I had a black, leather holster on each thigh and calf, Berretta M9’s on the thighs, daggers with green leather strips on the hilt for grip. It was strange how they let me carry all these weapons and have seen me pull a few triggers but they think of me as innocent.

“Ready Kitten?” Tony asked and I nodded, pushing the double doors open. Loki was standing in the middle of the cell, in trousers and and a green shirt, the sleeves rolled up his elbows. I gasped when he turned to face me, for his eyes were colorless and lips sewn shut.

“Thor we aren’t going to leave him like that, are we?” I questioned before I even got to the quietly speaking group.

“He can’t use magic if he doesn’t have a voice, Kit.” Tony said, patting me on the back.

“Are you serious? I could somewhat understand a gag, but that? You’re fucking with me, right?” They flinched at my tone of voice. I usually don’t cuss in front of them.

“Kit it’s better this way, he can’t-“ Sam started but I cut him off.

“No! It’s not better! He has to be in extreme pain right now and none of you care?!” Even Thor looked to the ground. I scoffed. “Fuck you. All of you.” I walked up to the cylinder, scanning my badge and eye so the door would open.

“Kit. You’re not allowed in there.” Steve said sternly but it was too late. I was already in.

“If I’m not allowed in here then how come you guys programmed it so I could open the doors?” I snapped, not bothering to look back at them. “Loki?” I asked in a gentle voice. He was watching me intently, his eyes trailing over me as I got closer. I held my hand out for him to fake but he flinched away so I pulled it back by my side. “Loki my name’s Katherine, but everyone calls me Kit. I’m eighteen, I love to read and write and draw. Thor is like the older brother I never had. He tells me about you from when you guys were kids. About how you once turned him into a frog and how he secretly enjoyed it despite saying he didn’t.” I smiled at Loki. “Would you like to sit down?” Loki nodded and slowly but surely did. I plopped down next to him and this time, he didn’t flinch away.

“What is she doing?” Sam hissed, getting ready to get me out but Thor held him back.

“She’s treating him like a person.” Thor whispered watching us.

“Bruce can you go grab a first aid kit for me?” I asked and the doctor scurried away. “You can trust me Loki. I won’t let anyone hurt you. Ever.” I held out my hand once more and he tentatively took it. I smiled up at him and rubbed reassuring patterns on his knuckles. “I’m happy I finally get to meet you.” I whispered, and he hummed. His face was bruised and cut, some more recent than others. “Loki, I need to clean you up. Will you let me?” Loki seemed to think about it for a moment before he nodded gently. “Okay. Come on.” I stood and helped him up, on of his arms wrapped around my shoulders to help him walk.

“Where are you two going?” Clint questioned, all of them following us to the elevator.

“FRI take us up to the common room.” The elevator began to move and Loki looked a bit worried. “I’ve got you.” I whispered. When the doors opened back up I steered Loki towards my bedroom, despite the growing protests.

I set Loki down on my bed as I gathered everything I would need and turned the bath water on, pouring some essential oils (lavender and eucalyptus). I checked the temperature before walking back to Loki. Everyone had gathered in my room to protect me but it was obvious that I wouldn’t need it.

After Loki undressed (I looked away, yeesh) Thor helped him down into the water. Loki sighed in contentment under the warm water and soap bubbles. “Can I play with your hair?” Loki nodded and I smiled widely. His hair was knotted, obviously not taken care of in at least a few days. Once I had the conditioner in it (it smells like an English forest in my bathroom now) it was easier to comb out. Loki has his eyes closed throughout it, lifting his neck up now and then when I needed him to. I pulled it into a bun with a scrunchy so I could move on to wash his body.

I poured my lavender soap onto a loofa and gently scrubbed away at the dirt, blood, and grime. Eyes were on me and they definitely weren’t the good kind. I looked up to see the team staring at me. “What?”

“How can you treat him with such kindness, Kit?” Tony asked and I shrugged.

“I guess I’m more compassionate than any of you.” I blew the question off, returning to getting Loki clean, though I did let him do his own.. crotch and ass (I might not be as innocent as everyone thinks but I do shy away from everything sexual. Unless it’s on Tumblr or Wattpad). I rinsed him and Thor helped him climb out and dry off (thank you Thor I’d be as red as Nat��s hair if I had to do it).

Loki looked much more comfortable now that he was in a pair of sweatpants that hung lowly on his hips and a shirt that was too loose, laying back on my bed with his hair fanned out. “Feel better?” He nodded, lips trying to smile but he winced. “Don’t smile. I’m gonna get those out for you, Loki. But it’s going to hurt.” He sighed through his nose as I gently cut and pulled the thread out. It left holes in his gorgeous, pink lips; holes that Thor said would close up in time. As soon as I cleaned up the cuts on his face Loki sat up, mouth opening.

“Thank you.” He croaked out, eyes shimmering with tears. “I didn’t think I’d ever get those out.” Loki’s gaze darted to the floor.

“Well its a good thing you have me now. Because that dick of a stepfather you have is gonna get a piece of my mind if I ever see him.” I threatened, bringing a small smile to Loki’s face. “And you aren’t going back to that cell.”

“Kit, you’re getting ahead of yourself.” Sam warned but I glared it him.

“You guys didn’t really think that once I had Loki looking like himself I’d send him back down there so Heimdall knows what can happen?” I snapped, cleaning up the nightstand where I had set everything.

“Is that.. is that a saying on Earth?” Loki asked me quietly and I shook my head.

“No. I’ve always been interested in mythology, and before your idiot brother got himself exiled that’s what you two were. Norse gods that nobody believed in. Except me and demigods, of course.” Loki looked at me intently. “On Earth, a demigod is the child of a god and a human. That child can have children with other humans or gods and their descendants will always be called demigods.” Loki nodded slowly. “In Norse mythology, you’re the son of Laufey, a woman, and the brother of Odin and brother in law of Frigg, also known as Frigga.”

“Mortals get so many things twisted it’s headache inducing.” Loki pointed out.

“Yeah like the fact that you gave birth to an eight legged horse named Sleipnir who is Odin’s war horse? Or the giant wolf named Frenrir? Or that Hel is your daughter? Everyone knows she’s not.” I rolled my eyes.

“Hel? Why in the nine realms would anyone believe she’s Loki’s daughter?” Thor demanded.

“Well they do look alike.” I offered with a shrug.

“And she does call me Faðir since I accidently let her into the living realms, once.” Loki grimaced.

“Okay enough of this mythology geek talk.” Tony interrupted. “Time to go back to the cell.”

“No.” I said, crossing my arms as I stood in front of Loki.

“Kit, move.” Steve ordered.

“No. What is the old saying... ‘When the mob and the whole world tell you to move, plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth and say, ‘No, you move.’ So unless you plan on forcing me,” I reached for my thigh holster. “Loki stays.” Everyone looked at each other before Wanda carefully made her way to me.

“You sure you want to do this?” She asked under her breath. “I can go in his head, see if he’s planning something.”

“No. Loki won’t change if we don’t trust him.” Pietro said after speeding over.

“I believe Loki has changed.” Vision agreed, floating over to us. “And I believe Kit is right.”

“What do we do now?” Rhodey muttered. “I don’t want to fight them especially because they have our stongest members on their side.”

“I agree.” Clint sighed. “Alright, kid. Do your thing. But don’t come crying to me when he breaks your heart.” With that Clint hopped into the air vents and was gone.

“God sometimes I hate him.” Tasha grumbled before following suite.

“We should probably trust Kit’s judgement. She was right about Bucky and the twins, after all.” Bruce offered. “This can be like a top secret assignment.”

“An assignment that can go south real fast.” Sam argues. “Kit, step away from him or you’re grounded.” I laughed a little though my expression held no humor.

“The only problem with that is I’m an adult. I can make my own choices and if you refuse to see that then fine. I have friends in high places I’ll go under the radar and you’ll never see me again.” Natasha pokes her head out of my vent.

“It’s true. I trained her how to do so. You’ll never find her especially if she has people on her side.” Natasha disappeared again.

“I hate it when she does that.” Tony mumbled.

“I hate it when you guys treat me like a child but here we are.” I snapped.

“Kit, we’re worried about you. You’ve never acted like this before.” Steve said gently.

“Actually this is the same way she acted for Bucky and the twins, Rogers.” Rhodey turned to Tony. “She’s usually right when it comes to this stuff.”

“You have a point, Rhodey.” Tony sighed. “Alright, kid. You can have the god but he’s wearing the bracelets.”

“Tony really?” Sam threw his hands up in disbelief.

“Yes really, Sam.” Steve stepped in. “I don’t trust Loki but I do trust Kit. You should too.”

“I do trust her-“

“Then let her do this. That’s an order.” Sam stormed out of the room at Steve’s sentence. “Kit, he tries anything, you kill him.”

“Yes sir.” I turned back to the god. “Come on, Loki. Let’s get you settled in.”

#loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki friggason #loki x OC #loki x Black!OC #sam wislon x niece!OC #peter parker #natasha romanoff #the avengers #loki #thor #steve rogers #captain america #iron man #tony stark #sam wilson #bucky barnes #wanda maximoff #pietro maximoff #clint barton #james rhodes #rhodey #pepper potts

[fanfic-scribbles]

Down, Down, Down

Fandom: Avengers

Summary: On a rough night, you meet a man named Steve Rogers who just wants to help, maybe as much for himself as for you. But certain things can’t always be helped. And sometimes that’s okay.

Quick facts: Friendship – Steve Rogers & Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Suicidal idealization, angst, depressed reader, self-hating reader, hopeful (but not necessarily happy?) ending

Words: 2759

A/N: I wrote this for myself and thought I shouldn’t post it. Then I realized that’s kind of hypocritical because I like when other people write this sort of thing, so here it is. Your mileage really will vary with this one. Depression is a fickle beast that manifests in about a gazillion different ways, and just being miserable for whatever reason is its own deal entirely. If this speaks to you, cool. If it doesn’t, that’s cool too. Please mind the warnings.

“Hi.”

You look up and blink some life back into your… well, there’s no point, really. But right now there’s a man smiling patiently at you. “Can I help you?” you ask. You can be human for a little bit longer. You think.

“Oh, I was just…” He looks awkward and gestures at the chair next to you. “May I join you?”

There are two other empty tables nearby, and the area as a whole is very quiet, even for a library. Whatever scam this guy is running, you want no part of. You have enough shit to deal with. “No.”

He frowns and looks a little confused. Well, he’s a handsome, well-built dude. He probably doesn’t hear ‘no’ all that often. “Look…” he says and sits down anyways. You look at one of the empty tables and wonder if you’re the one who’s going to have to move.

He leans in and you jerk back. He looks surprised– seriously? “Sorry, sorry,” he says and lowers his voice. “I just…I thought I heard you crying earlier, and I accidentally saw what you were writing just now, and I wanted to ask…are you okay?”

So he saw your suicidal scribbling and heard you hiccupping in that chair in the corner. You’re sure you were nearly silent. Self-righteous creeper. Also: what a dumb fucking question. Is he pretending not to know? Are you supposed to pretend? You can pretend.

“Peachy,” you say and stare at the page. Nothing else is coming. Which is good, when a hand is held out to you right over your notebook. Like a fucking dog just waiting to shake.

You give the guy your best unimpressed look. He is unaffected. “My name is Steve. Steve Rogers.”

You have about a hundred ways to respond to that and none of them are nice. You go with the least offensive one. “I’m not interested in meeting new people.”

He loses some of the friendly and gains an edge. “Because you won’t be around?”

“No, I’m just a bitch who hates people,” you say. You grab your things and go over to another table.

He follows you. Because of course he does. “Hey, strange man following a random girl, this is called ‘harassment.’”

“These are extenuating circumstances,” he says. “Do you have somebody you could call?”

“Why would I call someone when I want to be alone?” You try to bring forth some anger, but there’s just a spark, and then nothing. You sigh and start packing up.

“What’s your name?” Steve asks, still following you.

“Nunya.”

“What?”

“None ya business,” you mutter and try to make the door slam in his face. He catches it and then starts walking next to you.

“You can give me a fake name if you want,” Steve says. “Just something for me to call you.”

You roll your eyes. “You can call me ‘Bitch’.” Why not.

“Why would you want me to call you that?”

“It’s accurate.”

“I’m not calling you that.”

“Suit yourself.” You keep walking and so does he. You don’t want him to know where you live, so you wander.

Steve doesn’t stay quiet nearly as long as you’d like him to. He suggests a generic name which you meet with an unimpressed “meh.”

He rattles off some more names that you brush off or ignore.  Eventually he says, with a smile, “Eeyore.”

You’ve stopped responding by this point so you don’t rise to the bait. Let it be a joke to him. Why not.

“That seems a little mean, I guess. Sorry.” He’s actually quiet again. Of course, nothing good can stay. “How about a general term of endearment? ‘Sweetheart?’”

Your nose crinkles. “Unless you’re a woman or old man, don’t call me ‘sweetheart’. It’s patronizing and gross.”

“Noted,” he says. He flashes a smile at you. “I’m in my nineties though; that counts as old, right?”

“Sure.” What a dumb joke.

“Seriously!” He actually fishes out his driver’s license. It looks legit– until you get to date of birth.

“This is well made. Except you ruined it with your dumb old man joke.” You hand it back and keep walking.

“It’s real,” he insists.

“Sure thing.” You look him up and down. “You look old enough to drink. Why do you need a fake ID? Are you secretly a serial killer on the lam?”

“Why do I get the feeling you’d be more interested if I was?” he asks dryly.

“I’m willing to negotiate,” you say. “You can keep me alive for no more than one week. Get all those terrible impulses out of your system, then kill me. Win-win, right?”

“You’d really let someone hurt you like that?” he asks. He sounds sad.

“Why not.” You add: “That’s rhetorical, by the way.”

“I figured,” he says. He digs out another ID card. “Here. Hopefully this is proof that I’m not a serial killer.”

You barely glance at it. It also has that ridiculous date. “I don’t know what a military ID is supposed to look like. I’m sure it’s a lovely replica.”

“It is nice, isn’t it?” He puts it back. “They gave it to me since I’m technically retired from service.”

“Right. Because you’re old.” You spy a bench in the distance and head towards it. “What war did you serve in? World War I?”

“Two,” he says. “I’m not that old.”

He’s obviously joking. You try, but you can’t force the same levity in your tone. “Right. Real big difference.”

“Exactly.”

You sit and he stands, digging through his wallet. Just looking at him makes you tired. “I’m not a bored cop; you don’t have to show me every form of identification you own.”

“Just this last one,” he says and holds out what looks like a work ID. “It’ll explain the date.”

You sigh but take it and read it. It’s for SHIELD. And once you get to Steve’s title, it clicks.

“Oh.” You think you should be more…something. Surprised. Awed. Embarrassed? But you feel nothing in particular. So you hand it back to him.

He sits on the opposite end of the bench and allows for some quiet. You briefly think that maybe he’ll get bored. Hopefully he’ll get bored and leave you be. But it’s barely a moment before you’re swimming in the dark end of your head again.

Something touches your shoulders and you flinch so violently it rips through your body, which is stiff enough that you must have been sitting for some time. Steve is there, lifting his hands from the jacket he just draped over you.

“I see,” he says with a measured lightness. “You’re trying to freeze yourself to death.”

“Is it cold?” You hadn’t really noticed. Now, with the jacket, you get it by comparison.

“A little,” he says. He’s not quite as upbeat and you steal some glances. He’s stiff and looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

Right. Crashed in icy waters, was frozen for years. Of course he doesn’t like the cold. You’d tell him to go home but he seems intent on not listening. You want to tell him you’ll be…well, not fine, but alive. You’ve been here before. You’ll be here again. But you doubt he’ll listen.

“What’s it like?” you ask. “To drown?”

He doesn’t bristle. Doesn’t call you a bitch and bail. He looks like he’s actively considering your question. “It’s more painful than you’d expect,” he says. “It burns, and the panic is…it’s hard to explain.” The obnoxiously bright streetlamp on the other side of him illuminates his profile at the edges, and shadows drape over the rest of him. You can see him swallow. “I thought I was ready to die. But there’s always this– this burst near the end, when I want to live.” He looks right at you. “Even when I think dying is all I want to do.”

“Hm.” You’re not convinced– everyone handles it differently. But he’s shivering and trying to be a stoic noble manly man, and you might be a bitch but you’re not out to hurt someone else.

You stand and drape his jacket over his shoulders, and start walking again. He’s quiet with you and you leave it be. Either he doesn’t want to talk anymore or he’s accepted that you don’t. You go until you find a 24-hour coffee shop and duck in. You order yourself a drink but before you can get the money out, Steve squeezes in, orders for himself, and gives his card to a man who could not give less of a shit. You merely shrug, wait for your drink, and go to sit. There’s a small couch in a back corner, with a table just in front of it, and you sit at one end.

Steve sits next to you and lays out a muffin on the table, which he nudges over towards your side. You’re not hungry, but you take a little piece to nibble on if only to appease him. He looks pleased. At least one of you is. At least one of you can be happy; at least…

The crumb in your throat feels like a boulder, but you don’t choke when you swallow it.

Steve is closer now, side and leg pressed against yours. You turn to lean into him and he wraps his arms around you. You’re too far gone for a hug to fix anything, but here you are, and here you’ll stay.

“Why?” you ask. “Why do this?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, holding you close. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just selfish.”

You start to shake. “What does that even mean? How does this affect you at all?”

“I don’t know. It just hurts to think that…that I just let it happen. I can’t. I can’t do nothing.”

Nothing is a word, a thing, a presence that you know well. Nothingness is all you are, right now. Nothing is working. Nothing will fix you. You know this. And yet you know you’ll be here when the sun comes up. And probably tomorrow. And likely the day after that. “Why?” you grit out. “Why do I have to be here? Why do I have to stay?”

“I don’t know. I wish I did.” He grips you tight. “I think that’s something we have to find out for ourselves.”

“What happens if we don’t? What happens if we never find it?”

“I think…” He clears his throat. “I like to think that there’s not just one thing. Maybe some people have that– a family, a life goal– but sometimes it can be something small. A holiday you’re excited for. A birthday you’d like to hit. Maybe even just a really good meal you’re looking forward to having. They’re like stepping stones you lay out for yourself, and they can be just as important as a road someone else built. Sometimes even more.”

You’re drained, and apparently so is he– together, you both slump. When he stirs, the slip of sky you can see outside is beginning to lighten. You take a deep breath, slipping back into your skin to face another day.

“I know this isn’t your first time and you probably didn’t need me.” He gives you one more firm hug before he pulls back. He leaves his hand on your shoulder. “Thanks for indulging me.”

You think you should smile, but you’re too tired. Still. “You should probably see someone about that hero complex,” you say as he stands. “The stress alone is going to kill you.”

He laughs, though his eyes glisten in the light. “I’ll keep it in mind.” He extends his hand, fingers curling gently towards his palm. “May I walk you home?”

You place your hand in his and allow him to walk with you. When you arrive home he lets you go in peace, but gives you his number before he leaves. You don’t expect to see him again, but he is a nice man, and you wish him well.

You muddle through the next few days, as you are wont to do, weathering the ebb and flow. It’s beginning to even out, you think, and since you’re up early you go take a walk in the park while it’s not so loud.

So there you are, minding your business, when suddenly you hear a familiar voice say, “On your left!” just before a giant blond blur goes racing past.

Steve looks back to smile at you, and you, to be polite, smile back. It’s a tiny thing that probably looks as dumb as it feels, but his smile grows bright enough to blind and he shoots off ahead with a sudden burst of energy.

Two other men, running at slightly more than a jog, look at you oddly as they pass. Their faces are vaguely familiar so you assume they’re his friends. They don’t say anything to you, so you ignore them.

You start to wish you could ignore Steve, when he passes you twice more with the same enthusiastic phrase. Why is he so excited to be on your left? Why do you have to know where he is at all? Does he think you’ll suddenly walk in front of him? Is this a thing normal runners do or is he just weird?

It’s annoying.

So when he comes around the third time you reach out, intending to swat at him. You don’t actually expect to hit him, but your hand collides with his arm like you just smacked a brick wall, only the brick wall yelps. Yelps. Like a Pomeranian.

Two bellowing laughs echo behind you and you and Steve both look to see his two friends collapsing over each other in hysterics. You shake out your throbbing fingers and Steve whines, “Come on, it wasn’t that funny.”

“What,” you say, “was that noise?”

He’s not as red as he should be, from all that running, but the blush takes care of that.

“Hello new best friend!” one of the men says and ambles over to you, extending his hand. “My name is Sam Wilson.”

You shake his hand and introduce yourself. Steve brightens. Oh, right; it’s the first time he’s heard your name. The other man comes over and introduces himself as, “James Barnes but call me Bucky; all my friends do.” Steve rolls his eyes but he hasn’t stopped smiling yet, so you accept that you’re expected to call a grown man ‘Bucky’ now.

“You Steve’s library friend?” Sam asks as easily as anything.

You’re on guard, but Steve must not have told them much about that night, because Sam doesn’t…he doesn’t look at you like you’d expect if he knew. Neither does Bucky. “I guess so.”

“Hey, do you want to join us for breakfast?” Steve asks.

“Um…no thanks,” you say. “I’m…I’m not great company right now.”

“Doll, you could order five plates, dump ‘em on the floor, and I’d still want to pay for your meal,” Bucky says, swinging his arm around your shoulders. “That was fantastic.”

With mild amusement, you allow yourself to be shanghaied into having breakfast with them. And Sam and Bucky must know something, because they allow you to be utterly silent and don’t seem to expect anything from you. All three men chat, they share with you, but if you don’t respond, nobody gets upset, or insists, or drags the mood down.

They just let you be.

You breathe into your coffee cup and try to cement this moment into your mind. A stepping stone. One worth remembering.

After breakfast they have somewhere to be and you’re drained by the noise and socialization. As nice as it was, you need a nap now.

Steve and Bucky say their goodbyes and go on ahead. Sam hangs back to give you a hug, and a business card of his. On the back is a list of names and phone numbers.

“No one’s expecting you to do anything,” Sam says. “Least of all Steve. And my feelings won't be hurt if you throw this in that trashcan over there. Sometimes, though, it’s good to have back-up, and it can be hard to ask. I just wanted to give you some options.”

You consider the offer and slip the card into your pocket. Maybe you will, maybe you won't. “Have fun at your meeting.”

He grins. “I’ll see you later,” he says and hurries to catch up to them.

You turn to go on your way, and take a deep breath. Later. It’s an option.

You’ll keep an open mind.

#steve rogers x reader #reader insert #avengers fanfic #avengers reader insert #friendship #hurt/comfort #depression #steve rogers #reader #sam wilson #james bucky barnes

[sserpente]

A brazen challenge

Synopsis: Imagine admitting to Loki that you never manage to orgasm when are with men, making him smirk mischievously in response.

“Is that a challenge, my dear?”

So for the next couple of hours, he magically locks the two of you in your room and makes it a challenge as to how many times he can make you cum in a row. He pleasures you with his soft hands, his skilled and long fingers and his silver tongue before he fucks you roughly.

Pairing: Loki x Reader Rating: M Chapter: 1/1 (Oneshot) Words: 4040 Warnings: smut. a lot of smut.

It was a lazy and boring afternoon, really. Having nothing to do at all, you wandered about the Avengers Tower, searching for distraction or anything else to occupy yourself with. For the latest mission, your infamous superhero friends had decided that it would be best for you to stay put while they sorted things out, leaving you behind grumpy and frustrated.

Even Vision was gone, so the only company you had was, quite literally, the pile of clothes in your room you had wanted to wash for days but there certainly was no motivation for that right now. Instead, you headed straight to Tony’s library. Reading had always helped you shutting down the real world for a couple of hours and since there was nothing else you could do—except for, maybe, wondering why Tony even had a library in the first place, given he never used it—you might as well dive into some made up worlds.

“Jesus Christ!” You flinched when you suddenly spotted Loki sitting on the expensive leather couch in the middle of the big room, his nose buried in one of the books the billionaire owned. He looked up with his brows furrowed, giving you a cheeky smile when his stunningly blue eyes caught your appearance.

“You scared me…”

“I can see that,” he replied with another smirk, watching you intently as you nervously picked a book and sat down on an armchair opposite him. What the hell was he even doing here? Shouldn’t he be… well, off to try and take over the planet again? Thor had brought him here to help, much to his dismay, this much you could tell, but hidden here in Tony’s library with no other purpose than to scare the shit out of you, he wouldn’t exactly be useful.

“What are you doing here?” He asked.

“I could ask you the same question. I was excluded from today’s mission and in no mood to do my laundry. Simply put, I’m bored. What’s your excuse?”

Loki stared at you rather boldly as if he were fascinated by you.

“I was excluded from today’s mission and have no other business on this planet than to kill time by reading,” he mocked. “Why don’t you go out then? Isn’t that what people your age do here on Midgard? Going out, seducing men and mating with them?”

Your lips parted as you stared at him unbelievingly, holding back a hysteric laughter.

“So first of all, we don’t say ‘to mate’, that’s quite old-fashioned. And second of all, no, not everyone goes out to seduce men. What do you think Earth women are like, for God’s sake? My sex life is about as exciting as a goldfish swimming in a glass.”

You had no idea why you even told him that. Maybe it was because you secretly thought that Loki was quite handsome. No, scratch that, he was hot. He might have tried to rule the human race but he was incredibly attractive. Instantly, you wondered how many women he had bedded already. Something told you they wouldn’t leave his chambers unsatisfied the day after…

“And why is that?” He ripped you out of your thoughts, putting his book away. Great, now you had his full attention, though you couldn’t exactly make out whether this was a good or a bad thing. Probably both.

“I… Jesus, that’s pretty private territory, are you aware of that?”

“That makes it all the more interesting, my dear,” Loki’s voice was dark, a little throaty and… almost seductive as he leaned forward to look you directly in the eye. Actually, he didn’t scare you. You knew about the things he had done in New York back in the days and that he was quite powerful, witty and skilled. It hadn’t intimidated you when you first met him, now on the other hand… you weren’t so sure. He looked like he was going to eat you alive.

Swallowing thickly, you bit your lower lip. “Well… I’ve had relationships before but whenever I started getting intimate with them… the spark never really jumped across, you know.” God, that sounded ridiculous.

“I don’t, actually. Enlighten me,” With an inviting movement of his hand, he leaned back again, tilting his chin. You had the feeling he knew exactly what you meant but wanted to hear it from your mouth. Was he really that sadistic? God of Mischief, alright.

“I find it hard to let go, okay? I don’t usually… cum when I’m with men,” you admitted coyly, your eyes fixating the expensive carpet on the floor. After a moment of silence, when you finally brought up the courage to look up to him again, you noticed that Loki was smirking mischievously, with shrewdness and cunning glistening in his blue eyes.

“Is that a challenge, my dear?”

You were pretty sure that your heart skipped a beat, your eyes widening as you felt the muscles in your lower regions clench.

“W-what?”

“We are alone, after all.” He scared you once more by suddenly vanishing with a green glimmer surrounding him, only to reappear right behind you, possessively grabbing your waist. His mouth was on your neck before you could properly comprehend what was happening. Teasingly, his lips ghosted over your sensitive skin, his nose buried in the thick curtain of your hair as he inhaled deeply.

“N-no, L-Loki, please stop…”

He pulled away immediately, with you being surprised that you had managed to speak up at all. Those light kisses… so gentle… it felt wonderful.

“Forgive me then. I shall not touch you again,” he stated, recoiling to continue reading when you frowned.

What now, did he think he was going to be in trouble for assaulting you like that? You’d hardly tell Thor his brother had tried to hook up with you, besides, it’s not like you didn’t want it yourself. Loki didn’t exactly seem like somebody who would obey like a trained puppy, knowing just what he wanted and how to get it. And again, something told you he was retreating for that exact purpose. That was his scam, his strategy. You were going to beg him and damn it, it irked you less than it should.

“Yes, p-please do! I just… n-not here! I mean… can we go to my room?”

Loki’s cocky smile returned as if you had flipped a switch.

“Very well then,”

You were quivering when he followed you back to your room, chewing your lower lip like a dog its bone. It was like you were making your way to your personal execution. A sexual execution, that was. You could practically feel Loki’s presence behind you, his gaze boring into your back. When you finally arrived, he shut the door close behind you and flicked his hand so that the same green shimmer that had surrounded himself only moments ago now flickered around the doorknob. Had he just… locked the door?

“A-are we really going to do this?” Shit, surely you were not going to chicken out, right? The thought of sleeping with the God of Mischief somewhat intimidated you. Just because you weren’t a virgin, it didn’t mean you had a lot of experience. Apart from the standard missionary style, sloppy attempts of your former boyfriends to make you orgasm by awkwardly eating you out and half-hearted blowjobs on your behalf, you had no experience at all whereas Loki… Loki was a bloody God. He would be disappointed with you, the more so because you were a mortal. What could you possibly offer him that he wouldn’t be able to get from all those beautiful Asgardian women you had seen in ancient paintings of the nine realms?

“You can always tell me to stop… though I am not entirely sure I will oblige to your request once I have started.” You swallowed again, backing off when he took a step closer to you. “You said you are unable to achieve your end when mating with men…”

“Hook up. Not mate.” You choked out. Your voice was breaking, betraying you. Both your nervousness and excitement were on full display for him—a circumstance he seemed to greet with mockery but he simply ignored your weak interruption.

“Now I am wondering how many times I can make you cum for me… in fact, I am dying to find out, my pet.”

Pet? Shit, why did that turn you on? It really shouldn’t now… right?

There was no room to escape from him anymore when your knee pits suddenly collided with the edge of your bed, having Loki tower over you and push you down on the mattress.

Greedily, his hands roamed over your body, and he licked his lips as if he were about to claim his prize. He probably was.

“Undress,” he instructed you sharply, his voice firm and demanding and allowing no contradiction. It wasn’t like you were not going to obey him anyway. Shit, you were going to do this. Responding nothing, you hastily pulled your shirt over your head and slipped out of your trousers, quickly followed by your black panties and your bra.

Now you normally weren’t uncomfortable being naked in front of men if you were about to have sex but something about Loki’s lustful gaze made you cringe and feel self-conscious about your body. Surely, you were no match to the women he had had before. The God of Mischief said nothing, whatsoever. Instead, he ravenously pushed your legs apart, his blue eyes locking with your sex, making you blush at once. His voice and the words he had spoken had been enough for you to become wet, you had noticed already when you had taken your panties off. The silky fabric had been bloody soaked.

“Hmm, you’re dripping for me, pet. Undoubtedly, it will be easy to make you scream my name.” He mused with a dark chuckle before he ran two of his long fingers along your slick pussy lips. You shivered at his touch, bucking your hips to hint you wanted more, unable to speak.

“Relax,” Loki grinned sneakily when he noticed, causing you to dig your fingernails into your soft bed sheets.

His eyes never left your face to watch you as his thumb found your clit and teased it relentlessly, circling it slowly, then faster, then slowly again until you whined from the pleasure. A familiar pressure you were only used to when masturbating built inside you and you arched your back in an attempt to cause more friction but Loki was unrelenting. He was the one in control, he had made that very clear.

His fingers massaged you so intensely you feared to faint as he coated his fingers with your wet arousal and spread it all over your sex. You felt so shamelessly exposed to him but it only fuelled your agitation more.

“Does that feel good, pet?”

A moan was all you could muster in response but it seemed to suffice.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you? When I call you pet?”

Fuck yes, you did. What you didn’t like was the fact you had had no idea you were such a submissive. If you had known earlier, maybe your orgasm problem would have solved itself by now.

Loki chuckled once more before slipping two fingers inside you, your walls clenching in joyful anticipation at the foreign intrusion. He started pumping them in and out of you, his thumb never stopping to massage your clit, and then curled them inside you to graze that hidden spot, having you moan loudly once more. Good thing you were in fact alone today.

Loki’s skilful fingers worked their magic on you, pleasuring you with such vehemence you had to hold back to not start thrashing around wildly. If you did so, he might tie you up… but then again, that sounded rather exciting than scary.

“Go ahead… cum for me, pet.” His sinful words did the rest. Head first, you were thrown into the most mind-blowing orgasm you had ever experienced, your muscles spasming and clenching around Loki’s fingers which were helping you ride out your near enough violent climax as you kept screaming his name like a prayer, your hot and wet sheath coating his fingers with a fresh wave of your arousal.

You were panting heavily when you finally calmed again, observing with widened eyes how Loki licked his fingers with relish and then locked eyes with you.

“That was one,” he declared tauntingly. “Oh, you taste delicious, pet. So sweet…” he purred. Sliding his hands over your thighs, he climbed on the bed and knelt down right between your legs.

Fucking shit, how had he made you cum so fast? It was like he hadn’t even tried, just played your cunt with those wonderfully long digits like he would an instrument…  You gasped for air when you suddenly felt Loki’s tongue on your slit, licking over your pussy with delight. His lips found your clit and sucked it between them gently, followed by his tongue delving into your aching core to lap up as much of your juices as possible. He repeated his torture several times before tenderly biting your hot flesh and then using his silver tongue to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves until you were trembling again. You were sensitive already but it only added to your arousal, throwing you over the edge for a second time when he started sucking on your clit so furiously you whimpered.

“That was two…”

Curses paired with Loki’s name escaped your lips, your muscles contracting around nothing as you wished for him to fill you with his cock. God damn.

“So sweet…” he repeated quietly, making you feel his hot breath right between your legs.

He didn’t even think about stopping and giving you a short break before continuing his sweet torture. Collecting your slick arousal on his tongue, he pushed it deep inside you, tasting you ravishingly until you panted from the intense pleasure he was giving you. He fucked you roughly with his tongue as he started stroking the sides of your clit, careful not to directly stimulate it. Hell, he did know what he was doing. Other men you were with never understood what it meant to be over-sensitive. Just that they hadn’t even managed to make you cum even once before they sought their own pleasure, taking what they wanted and then falling asleep exhausted as if they had done such a great job.

You would have rolled your eyes at the thought if they hadn't rolled the back of your head instead. Loki grabbed your thighs roughly, making sure to leave bruises for you to look at the next day and preventing you from recoiling. Two orgasms in and you were already breathless. If he kept going, you probably would faint.

“Loki…” Whether you pleaded for him to stop or to continue, you didn’t know. All you could focus on was how your third climax built, your muscles tensing and your whole body shaking until you were but a writhing mess, defenceless against his skilled mouth and fingers. You came again when he chuckled against your entrance, sulking in the amusement your desperation gave him and then finally pulled away, enjoying the aftershocks that kept rippling through your body.

“That was three…” He mused with a smirk. His hands stroked over your body gently, leaving a wet trail of your own juices all over your stomach before he shifted so he could lie down next to you and prop himself up on one elbow.

“Tell me, pet, what was the highest number of orgasms you had when pleasuring yourself?” He asked boldly while attending to your breasts nonchalantly. Your attempt to pull away and cover yourself was quickly foiled when he pegged your arms away with a simple movement of his hand and a warning look.

“I…” You started hesitatingly, unable to talk properly. “I never came more than once…”

Loki’s expression became somewhat proud upon hearing this. Never taking his eyes off you, he ran his fingers over your breasts, teasing your nipples and pinching and rolling them between his skilful fingers. His hands were pure magic, and you closed your eyes to enjoy the new sensation. You failed to notice he leaned down only a moment after to suck your other nipple into his mouth, circling your areola and gently biting the hardening nub until you arched your back.

“So sensitive…” he murmured scornfully. “I wonder if I could make you cum like that.”

Moaning, you threw your head back. It did feel wonderful. Could you cum like that? Whenever you masturbated, you never really paid attention to your breasts at all, instead just focused on furiously rubbing your clit until you came undone. That’s what vibrators were for too, after all. You had heard of women orgasming just by having their nipples caressed but didn’t think it was possible for anyone but porn stars. With Loki, on the other hand… probably everything was possible, especially when you suddenly felt him using his magic on you to increase your sensitivity even more.

Your desire to return the favour rose with every single stroke of his. Surely, this was arousing him as well. Licking over your lips, you brought your hand right to his crotch, feeling a considerable bulge forming in his tight leather pants. You knew it. Just when you were about to massage his growing erection though, he grabbed your wrist with his free hand and pinned it down over your head.

“Ah, ah, pet. This is about you.” Was this man even real?

Your orgasm, although short-lived, took you completely by surprise when he started sucking on your nipple again only the fraction of a second after and squeezed the other hard, rubbing over it so fiercely it almost hurt. It felt different than when your clit was stimulated, your climax sharp and fervid. You could feel your pussy pulsating, the bed sheets already sweaty but it seemed like Loki wasn’t even nearly done with you.

“That was four,” he stated when he pulled away.

Growling, you forced your head to the side to look at him. “You cheated!” And he certainly did live up to his reputation.

He answered by laughing out loud—a real laugh. You were pretty sure you had never heard Loki laugh before. For some odd reason, it warmed your heart and made you wanting to pounce on him.

Speaking of which… “Please…”

Lust and desire flashed in his eyes. “Please what, pet?”

“P-please, I… I want you.” You choked out, your voice barely audible. He heard you though. Oh, of course he did.

“Say it, pet, I want to hear it from your pretty mouth,” he mused with a smirk, his lips attacking your neck again. You groaned when he touched your hot and moist skin. “Beg me.”

God, you would have strangled him if you had had the energy for it. Instead, all you could do was laying on your bed limply, utterly at his mercy.

“Please… fuck me…”

“What was that? I’m afraid I did not hear you,”

Arsehole. “Fuck me, god damn it, Loki, please, just fuck me!”

Again, the God of Mischief laughed and then, everything happened so fast you didn’t even manage to blink. Loki was on top of you in an instant, his clothes removed with his seidr and his hard cock pressing against your wet entrance.

His hands roughly grabbed your wrists to keep them above your head as he teased you by sliding his tip, leaking with precum already, up and down your cunt, taking his time in penetrating you.

Inconspicuously, you risked a look down, your lips parting with desire. Was everything about this incredibly arrogant and handsome God beautiful? Briefly you wondered whether he would even fit inside you but given he had just made you come undone four times in a row, you were more than just ready for him.

Loki plunged right into you without another warning, hissing loudly as your warm sheath embraced him, your walls clenching around his manhood. For a short moment, he froze, ravishing the feeling of being buried so deep inside you and then, finally, started rocking in and out of you ferociously. Animalistic growls escaped him as he fucked you, drowning your own moans. Your hips rose up to meet his rhythmically, your back arching to offer him your abused breasts. He took the hint—or maybe he just decided to—and assaulted them with his mouth again, sucking your nipples and licking over your breasts greedily as he quickened his pace even more. With every thrust, he made sure to hit all the special spots hidden inside you, aiming to make you cum for him again. You didn’t have much of a choice, really. It was like he was controlling your body, controlling your pleasure and controlling your mind.

“Cum, pet,” he gnarled commandingly. “I want to feel you cum around my cock. Cum!”

And you did, having no other option than to obey. Screaming his name, you spasmed around his hard length and milked his cock, unable to evade from all the overwhelming bliss. Loki didn’t give you time to recover though, instead fucked you even harder. Flesh smacked against flesh, the hot sounds of sex echoing through your room when he finally let go of your wrists and let you dig your fingers into his back, leaving angry marks on his skin. God, had sex ever felt this good? No, it definitely never had.

“You have no idea how tight you feel, pet. So good… cum again. Do it. Do it now, cum!” What? No, you just… you couldn’t… not possibly… moaning, you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

“N-no, no, I can’t, I can’t, I…”

“Oh yes, pet, you can. You will cum for me again, you will cum until I decide that you have had enough.”

There was something about his words that sent jolts of electricity between your legs. An all too familiar pressure built, all of your muscles tensing as you held on to him for dear life and let another orgasm wash over you like a tidal wave, taking Loki’s composure from him. What was he doing to you? With one last loud growl, he spilled himself, his cock twitching inside you while you were still contracting around him, feeling his hot seed spurting deep into your pussy.

When you had both finally cooled down and you felt his member softening again, Loki rested his sweaty forehead against yours, closing his eyes for just a moment.

Then… he suddenly kissed you, worshipping your mouth with his soft lips. Although you had just had… how many was it, five, six orgasms and mind-blowing sex with an actual God, this felt much more intimate. Loki kissed you tenderly but passionately, his tongue claiming yours in a playful battle.

Shit, this was everything you had ever wanted and more. Both of you only withdrew when you ran out of air, catching your breath completely spent. He pulled out of you, tugging you close with his strong arms so you rested on his chest. If you listened closely, you could hear his fast heartbeat. Oh, if only this moment never ended… groggily, you cuddled up closer to the God of Mischief, wrapping your arms around his naked form.

It was all the affection you could offer him for now. He seemed content about the gesture, holding you close and fondly stroking your hair.

“Sleep now, pet. You will need your energy for the night.” So there was more to come? Quite literally? Was he being serious? Damn.

“Loki?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” Maybe you thanked him for making you let go and forget life for a bit, maybe you did because you bloody came six times in a row or maybe you did because of him pampering you and praising your body like no man ever had. There was something about Loki and his behaviour towards you that drew you to him, fascinated you and made you crave more. More intimacy and more sex for sure and perhaps… perhaps even love.

“You are welcome, (Y/N).”

#loki #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x you #a brazen challenge #loki smut #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #loki laufeyson smut #thor #thor imagine #thor smut #the avengers #the avengers imagine #the avengers smut #marvel #marvel imagine #tom hiddleston

[stuckytookmylife-blog]

Thor x reader (part 1?)

A/N I decided to give Thor some love because I was going through the Thor x reader search and its just a bunch of Loki Fics. Made me a Lil mad. Show some respect to Rapunzel Okay? Anyway enjoy!!!

Thor entered the room filled with people mingling and drinking. He immediately scammed the room to find you. When his eyes didn’t come across your usual form with a drink reading, he frowned. You always came to the team gatherings for drinks, so why weren’t you here now? His thoughts were interrupted with a clap on his shoulder. He turned to see Tony handing him a drink, and Steve with a gentle smile on his face.

“What’s got you so quiet?” Tony asked. Steve was wondering the same thing. Thor was known for a lot of things, but quiet was defiantly not one of them.

Thor’s eyebrows furrowed together before he asked “Do you know if lady (y/n) was attending to the party? I don’t see her here.” His eyes yet again scanning the room for her familiar features.

Steve and Tony looked at each other knowingly. Thor wasn’t exactly subtle with his notions. The team picked up on his lingering stares when you got up to leave, and how his face always immediately brightened when you walked into a room. However, Steve knew that you thought the idea of the god liking you was preposterous no matter how many times he tried to assure you, you refused to listen.

“I think she’s in the library.” Steve answered, “Big crowds like this aren’t really her thing.”

Thor nodded in understandment before Tony changed the subject, rearing Thor’s attention in a different direction. The rest of the night went on easily but Thor couldn’t help but scan the room for you every so often, even if he knew you weren’t there.

-time skip to later on in the night-

Most of the guests that were invited by Tony and Pepper were slowly filtering out, until no one was left but the team sitting on the sofas drinking. Sam was busy telling a story from his military days, while Bucky was sitting next to him rolling his eyes, when suddenly Thor stood up. All eyes looked toward his standing form as he spoke. “ I think I’m going to go ask Lady (y/n) to come join us.”

Natasha smirked knowingly as she said “yeah I’m sure (y/n) is ready for a drink at this point.” The rest of the team murmured their agreements when Thor got up and left the room, headed towards the library. It was quiet until Clint asked “So, when do we start placing bets?”

You were sitting in the small tower library, that Tony had made at your begging request, when the doors suddenly burst open, and a smiling Thor came striding in. You immediately felt yourself smile. Of course you had taken a liking to the asgardian prince almost as soon as you arrived at the Tower, a year ago. However, you just couldn’t see why he would return the feelings. He was a god for Christ sake, so why would he take an interest in boring old you? Your thoughts were interrupted by Thor speaking in that deep voice of his “I missed seeing you tonight.” He said

You looked up at him, “yeah big crowds aren’t really my thing anymore.”

Thor pulled at the chair next to you, sitting in it when he said, “Thats what the captian said, but why? You always stay with the team we love your presence.”

You blushed slightly at the simple complement, but mellowed before you answered, “When I was with the group before the Avengers, I was alone in the underground a lot of the time. So whenever I was with big groups of people someone always died, usually from my hands.Obviously that wouldn’t be the case tonight, but it makes me nervous still.” You were looking at the ground now. Jesus, why had you said so much? He probobly thought you were some weak mortal now.

“Well, I can assure you nothing like that happened tonight. Maybe next time you come I’ll stand with you so you won’t be so nervous .” He said with a gentle smile gracing his handsome features.

Okay now you knew he was defiantly flirting with you, but before you could respond he stood up and said “I came to invite you down for a drink. All the guests have left its just us now.”

You smiled and stood up “Sounds good, thank you for coming to get me.”

He looped his arm with yours while smiling, and then said “of course”

When you got to the kitchen were the team was laughing and talking, Tony immediately said to you “(y/n)! We missed you tonight! You both also missed the announcement, we have another event planned with some pretty important people, meaning suit and tie by the way, and you have to come. Many of them are dying to meet you, one of the newest members to the team.”

You smiled at him and said you would be there, but inside you were groaning. Another party? With formal wear? Thor, noticing your silence, nuged you with his shoulder. “I told you lady (y/n), the next event I’d be by your side.” He said smiling.

Blushing, you said “really? I mea-are you sure? Cuz like- I mean- tony could probably get you a date. He does it for Sam all the time.”

Thor, not knowing about this human activity, was suddenly confused. Brows furrowed, he asked “ Why would I want to go with a random woman when I can go with you?”

“ In that case I would love to go with you Thor. ” you said, still blushing slightly.

“YES! “Bucky and Tony screamed. "PAY UP BITCHES” Groaning Bruce, Wanda, Clint and Sam handed money to Bucky,Tony, Steve and Natasha.

A/N Part two maybe???? I have an idea if you guys would like a part two??

#thor x reader #thor x reader fluff #thor imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #avengers #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #tony stark #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #bruce banner #clint barton #bucky x reader #steve x reader fluff

[queandrue]

The Library of Dreams

A/N: Honestly this was just an excuse to write some Cal/Nezzy because there was soooo much potential there (and there still is if I have anything to do about it)! You can’t take my ships from me. Especially not ships involving OCs/DnD Characters.~Rue

Word Count: 939

******************

Cal stared at the rows and rows of books that lined the library. These books line his library. In all honesty, the human was afraid of closing his eyes. This all had to be a dream. There was no way this could be real. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve having his dreams come true.

Cautiously, he reached a hand out to touch one of the fine leather backings. His fingers danced along the spine before he pulled it out and stared at the cover. It was real, it wasn’t a dream. This book was in his hands, and it was a part of his library. His library was full of books and people.  Little bubbles of laughter left him as his eyes travelled up to the stained glass on the ceiling that depicted Pelor in its center. He’d made it. He was alive and had the life that he’d always dreamed of.

“Calithus?” the voice snapped Cal out of his thoughts. He didn’t have a chance to look before a firm hand rested itself on his shoulder. Fiery red hair caught the corner of his eye. Without looking, Cal took Nezzy’s hand and brought it to his lips. Golden metal met the lips that sealed a promise. It was perfect for her, it didn’t get in the way of her training. The man closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying this small moment of bliss.

When Cal pulled away, he looked up at Nezzy. “Ara,” he greeted softly, a smile stretching across his face. He felt her hand move up towards his cheek.

“You have someone up front for you, but I see you’re a bit preoccupied with your own thoughts again,” Nezzy noted. She glanced up towards Pelor and slowly looked back down towards Cal. “When will you accept this life my strange human?”

Cal looked at her puzzled for a moment. What was Nezzy talking about? The Celestrian shook her head and smiled, “Your self-loathing and doubt still gets the best of you sometimes. You deserve this life Cal. You’ve avenged yourself. You’re not the man you once were or the man you believed yourself to be anyways. You must kill those doubts aout yourself so they cannot harm you anymore. I can offer my blade.”

“It was sweet till the end there Angel,” Cal chuckled, “It’s just hard to believe this is real sometimes. I usually pictured myself in a ditch somewhere.”  While the last part was true, Cal tried to play it off as a joke. Why kill a happy moment with old thoughts?

“You know I wouldn’t let that happen Cal. Any attacker would lose their head before they got the chance to touch you. You know that.”

“I know Angel… I know.”

“And I still say that your library needs a guard, just in case.”

All Cal could do was chuckle. While he was sure there were still people out there that wanted his head for past scams, he doubted many of them would hunt him all the way down to his library. He thought that Nezzy probably just wanted to get back into action. Her work had slowed up quiet a bit in the past few years. She still received clients every now and again, but not as much as she had in the past. It also didn’t help that the clues to the whereabouts of her remaining family members had also come to a standstill. Considering the life Nezzy had lead and all of the adventures ]they’d been on with Nao and Sid, Cal couldn’t really blame her for becoming restless. “Perhaps, I suppose we can talk about it more after the library closes.”

After his library closes.

He didn’t miss the wide smile that crossed her face. How could he?

“But for now, you said there was someone asking for me?”

Nezzy nodded and turned to walk back to the front of the library, “Right. I believe they were looking for something specific. A book on old tomes perhaps? Or maybe they were looking for tomes. I wasn’t really listening.” Suddenly she stopped in her tracks and turned to look at him. Her eyes softened a bit as she stared at him. “But there is one thing I must say once more before we go up,” she said, her voice softening, “And that is that you are a good man Calithus Gray. You wouldn’t be helping people find books in your library if you weren’t. Pelor would not have lead you here if he thought you were not fit.” She offered him another smile before turning back around and continuing towards the front.

“Like I said, I have no idea what they’re looking for, but I figured you would it being your library and all.”

Cal felt pride swell up in his chest at her words. She was right, he did deserve this. Well, both him and the large black cat hiding in the rafters. Sid played a huge part in getting the library up and running as well, so it was also hers. The more Cal thought about it, the more he realized he wouldn’t change a thing.

He did deserve this library. He and Sid had dreamed about it for so long, and now it was a reality. Not only that but he had Nezzy too, his wonderful Angel of Vengence. Not to mention, Nao had also given the library her blessing… It was odd, but Cal was still grateful. The human wouldn’t have wanted his life any other way. Cal’s life was perfect and he thanked Pelor very day for pushing him towards his dream.

#Calithus Gray #Ara Nezine #Nezzy #Cal/Nezzy #Sid #Nao #DnD #Dungeons and Dragons #5e #QnR #Rue #I can't make titles okay XD

[notdeadyet-bpd]

week in the life of a med student: monday

Thought I’d write a bit about med student life for anyone interested. Note: I’m in Australia, so my experience will likely be different to those studying medicine in the US. Also, I’m a first-year student.

5:45am: I wake up and I would curse the sun, except the sun isn’t up yet because it’s too early. (I’m clearly not a morning person.) I procrastinate for a few minutes over getting out of bed because, again, I’m not a morning person. I eat breakfast and get dressed and ready to leave.

6:30am: I drive out to the train station because I hate buses. The escalator at the train station is still broken. I swear that station has been without a working escalator all semester, and my semester started in late January.

~6:50am: Board the train and start working through some flash cards on Anki. (It’s a popular flashcard app among med students. There are others, but Anki is the most powerful and therefore one of the most popular.) I work through them in lots of 50 and try and look up for a bit between sets to look after my less-than-stellar eyesight. (I wear glasses full-time and have done so for years)

~7:20am: Get off in the city and board my next bus. Meet a classmate on the bus and start talking.

~7:40am: Arrive at the medical and dental library, which is where my first class is. Spend some time talking to classmates before going into class.

8:00am: Immunology tutorial. The lecturer starts the class with a Kahoot (a quiz website). Someone sets their screen name to an Avengers: Endgame spoiler. The next person sets their screen name to “i hate u.” Even though the Kahoot quiz doesn’t count towards our grade, the competition is pretty intense as you get more points on Kahoot for answering quickly. The main bulk of the tute involves a discussion of a case study of a Russian family with a rare immune system defect. Someone else in the class finds a textbook that discusses the exact same case study and shares it with the class over Facebook, so I guess it’s not just Avengers spoilers going around class today. Final exam timetables are also released while we’re in class. We only have two finals, but each exam covers the content for the entire semester. One exam is a short-answer question exam and the other is a “visually-aided exam” (pictures are shown on the screen at the front of class and we have to answer questions about them). The short-answer question exam is worth more. Unfortunately, we’ve been assigned the very first exam after study break: 9am on a Saturday morning. This means that we have little over a week after classes end to revise roughly 200 hours’ worth of lectures (bearing in mind that the lectures tend to be very content-heavy).

10:00am: A couple of classmates and I go upstairs in the library for some silent study. I have a look through the anatomy lab worksheet for the afternoon and try and answer some of the questions. Once I’ve done that, I do some more flashcards on Anki. During this time, we get an email telling us that our histology lab in a couple of weeks’ time has been cancelled, and we silently cheer.

11:00am: Grab some lunch from the kiosk and a hot chocolate from the cafeteria before heading over to meet up with the MD1 Sub-Dean of Student Affairs. Along the way, I bump into a bunch of people I know and get caught up in conversations with them, but I still manage to make it to the appointment just in time. We have a chat about how I’ve been going and I explain that I’ve been feeling much more relaxed since the study break that we had last week.

12:00pm: Head over to main campus for the anatomy lab in the afternoon. I take the bus because it looks like it might rain.

12:30pm: Go to the anatomy museum for some self-study. The hot chocolate and/or anxiety appear to be getting to me, though, because I constantly need to pee. I go to the loo twice in the half-hour period while waiting for class.

1pm: Anatomy lab. I need to pee again but since it’s probably just an anxious false urge, I hold it. Today’s lab is a dry lab where we are just looking at skulls to see if we can identify various features. A few classmates and I sit around a table and we try and identify all of the structures listed in the anatomy lab worksheet. One of my classmates has done anatomy before, which helps. There are also demonstrators floating around to help. Unfortunately, though, anatomy lab still often feels like the blind leading the blind.

2:15pm: Even though anatomy lab technically goes until 2:45pm, my classmates and I decide to leave early because we feel we’ve gotten as much out of it as we possibly could. Since we have no more classes, I finally go pee again (yay!) and head home.

~3:30pm: Arrive home and start making myself comfortable, but then I receive a text message from the optometrist telling me that my glasses are ready, so I head back out again. My new glasses are quite different to my old ones, so the sales assistant tells me that if people don’t notice the difference, they need to get their eyes checked. (Spoilers: it’s been over 24 hours as of the time of writing and nobody’s noticed yet.)

~4:15pm: Arrive back home. I open up a mindfulness meditation recording on my computer but since I hate sitting still and focusing my mind, I procrastinate over doing it. Heavily. I end up just mindlessly surfing the web for some time instead.

~5:15pm: Finally overcome my procrastination. I do my meditation and watch a couple of videos. The first one is about mindfulness and compassion and the second one is about autonomic nervous system drugs and their effects on the eyes. I watch the first video at 1.5x speed and 1.25x speed to save time.

~6:15pm: Dinner time. I still live at home, so I just eat what my parents make (yes, I know, I’m spoilt). Tonight, dinner is salmon, steamed broccoli and carrots, and rice.

6:45pm: Start heading out for community band practice. (I play clarinet.)

7:15pm: Arrive at band 15min early. I’m the first one there. When the next few people arrive, we go into the room and start setting up. When the conductor comes, I tell her that my first exam is on the morning of the upcoming band championships, and I’ll probably want to rest afterwards. The conductor essentially tells me that I’m irreplaceable and that though she can’t force me to be there, she would really really really really really like me to be there. Le sigh.

9:15pm: Leave band. Normally band goes until around 9:45pm, but since medical school started, I’ve been leaving after the 15min break in the middle.

9:45pm: Arrive home and have a shower. I’m more or less ready for bed by 10:15pm, but I stay up late reading dumb Facebook comments. (Someone I know shared an obvious scam post and some of the comments on the original post were pretty funny.) 10:45pm: Bed.

#medicine #med student #study #dayinthelife