Climate Change by glimmerglanger
Main Pairing: Thor/Loki
“Mm, you must have noticed them, big thunder storms, lots of rain, lightning, all situated, you know, right here? Thought maybe they had something to do with you.”
Thor glanced across at Loki, who only shrugged back. “It is possible that I may be influencing local weather patterns,” Thor said, after a moment.
OR, the one where the Asgardians make it to Earth, weather-related shenanigans ensue, and Tony desperately wants to find out how Thor makes it storm on a whim.
2 notes · View notes
Here's all the chapters of Winter's Frost (lmao oh god I cringe every time I look at that title ngl. I am so bad at coming up with titles)... I don't know if anyone even cares lol but if I continue the fic, I'll update this post with links to future chapters so it's easier to find the updates through all my ramblings
2 notes · View notes
chapter 7 (the end? I'm not sure yet)
Title: Winter's Frost
Rating: R to be on the safe side
Summary: Loki never told anyone the real reason he became so obsessed with Midgard. Much better to let them think he wanted to hurt his brother than draw their attention to the one thing in the universe that makes the God of Mischief truly vulnerable.
WARNINGS: m/m, reference to rape
Notes: since I don't read comic books and am a huge Loki (mythology) nerd, I'm pulling on some actual Norse mythology in this one. I've referenced Loki's shapeshifting/gender-bending abilities before, but here I go into something a bit more specific, and take a teensy bit of creative license in the process. so if you're reading and are like "wtf that didn't happen in the movies/comics!" that's because that's not the source material I was using.
The Bifrost was his last resort. The Destroyer had failed to even keep Thor in line or take out the bumbling idiots who didn't even know they were harboring HYDRA within their ranks. Loki had some power, but no allies, and it would take too long for him to ferret out every HYDRA operative hiding on Midgard, but if he could simply wipe SHIELD off the map, that seemed like a good start. But first he needed to know just how destructive the Bifrost really was. Could it be used for a surgical strike? Could he take out one building at a time, or would it truly destroy an entire planet?
Bucky would never forgive him if he destroyed his entire home world just to ensure that his captors were dead.
The obvious solution was, of course, a practice run. It was a good thing he had the perfect target in mind. He would destroy Jotunheim entirely, ensure there was no one left to avenge Laufey, and see how long it took to erase the planet from the cosmos. If the destruction took a while, if he could center it on one thing and have the damage radiate out from there, then after his cursed birthplace was eradicated, he could turn the Bifrost on SHIELD's headquarters. Then, all that remained was to go down, grab Bucky, and then come back and destroy the bunker in Siberia. There would be no more torture, no more Winter Soldiers. No more trauma for the man he loved.
Oh, who let bloody Thor out of his desert cell? The meathead always had to complicate everything. Loki lacked the time, and frankly the patience, to deal with his self-righteous adoptive brother's newfound life purpose, which seemed to be 'annoy Loki by any means necessary.' Not so new, then, he supposed. Simply a new method.
I don't have time for this, you oaf! "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to destroy Jotunheim!"
For all that it lacked delicacy, he really felt this plan was a perfect win-win. His father would wake to find his oldest enemies eradicated, his heir apparent revealed as the reckless idiot Loki had always known him to be, and a new heir standing proud and ready to take his place. Bucky would be safe and sound, and since all of his friends and family were likely dead by now, there would be nothing to tie him to Midgard any longer. Perhaps he could be convinced, finally, to come home with him to Asgard and rule by his side. With Loki's shapeshifting power, they could even have a family. Hopefully Odin would stop keeping Loki's children as pets. Truth be told, he was still a little bitter about Sleipnir; unintentional though his conception had been, he was still Loki's son.
Even if Odin didn't see reason when it came to Thor, now that the idiot had fallen in love with a human of his own – after a weekend – that could at least pave the way for Loki to come forward about his own star-crossed love, and maybe be accepted at last. At the end of the day, he had no real interest in ruling Asgard, only stepping out of his brother's shadow and not facing ridicule for who his heart chose. He didn't even know anymore what he was more afraid of; Odin finding out he'd fallen for another man, or Odin finding out he'd fallen for a human.
"Loki, you can't kill an entire race!"
"Why not?" He laughed, though he was more confused than anything else. Since when did Thor care? "Oh, what is this newfound love for the Frost Giants? You could have killed them all with your bare hands!"
In three days? He doubted it, but he supposed stranger things had happened. It didn't really matter; all he wanted in that moment was to prove to Thor, and to himself, that all his years of practice had meant something; that he was truly every bit the warrior his brother was. Mostly, though, he wanted to kill time and keep Thor from breaking through the ice barrier to stop the Bifrost. It was taking its sweet time tearing Jotunheim apart; that was frustrating with Thor there waiting to muck things up, but encouraging for his true purpose.
"Loki, this is madness!"
"Is it madness? Is it?!" You have no idea! "Come on, what happened on Earth that's turned you so soft?! Don't tell me it was that woman!" I've spent years mourning a love I built and cherished and could tell no one about, and you get to parade around proud as a peacock after spending three days with her?! That is madness!
The look on Thor's face told him everything he needed to know, and he almost vomited. It wasn't just the ridiculously brief time he'd spent with her; Thor could do no wrong in their father's eyes. Even if he marched right up to Odin and announced that he intended to marry this woman and make her his Queen, he would suffer no consequences. No one would dare to speak against the heir apparent; the witless wonder could have anything and everything he wanted! Meanwhile Loki was raped in the service of one of Odin's pettier schemes, and he was ridiculed as weak and a pitiful clown, the son he bore taken from him to be ridden into battle like he was little more than another expendable tool for Odin to use and discard.
The more he thought about how differently their father treated them, the more embarrassed he felt for having been surprised to learn he was adopted. Stolen, really; like everything else Odin thought might one day prove useful. And still, Loki loved him. Still, he looked up to Odin as a father and wanted his love and acceptance. Odin had tormented and humiliated him for most of his life, and Loki still wanted to make him proud. How pathetic.
He was too distracted; too lost in his own spiraling thoughts. Thor kept getting the upper hand, and it was only thanks to Loki's talent for illusion and duplicate-casting that he hadn't outright lost yet. At least he did have those things going for him.
Damn. Too stunned by how hard he'd landed to move, he could only watch helplessly as his adoptive brother approached, certain Thor would kill him. Instead, he sat Mjolnir on Loki's chest. The blasted thing weighed a ton! He could feel it crushing his chest, preventing him from moving and making it harder and harder to breathe. The painful weight of it was too much to bear, but he refused to suffer in silence.
"Look at you," he taunted with what little breath he could muster. "The mighty Thor! With all your strength... And what good does it do you now, huh?!" He could swear the stupid hammer was getting heavier by the second. He could feel the weight of it cracking his ribs, and he winced, gasping for air.
"Do you hear me, brother? There's nothing you can do!"
And suddenly it was gone, and the bridge was shaking. Stunned, he lifted his head to look, and saw Mjolnir back in Thor's hand. "What are you doing?" No, no, NO! He sat up, horrified as he watched his brother smash his hammer down over and over again. "If you destroy the bridge, you'll never see her again!" I'll never see him again!
No, he couldn't let this happen! Never mind all his desperate half-thought-out plans to save Bucky and destroy HYDRA... He couldn't bear the thought of losing him forever! It'd been hard enough to go on living when he'd thought his beloved was dead; knowing he lived but was a helpless slave, alone with no one to protect him, to rescue him? Loki would rather die.
It hurt to move, but he had to get up. He had to stop Thor! If he destroyed the Bifrost, Bucky would be left alone in the clutches of his enemies forever!
The world was a blur for a moment. He was running at his brother, the bridge was shuddering beneath their feet, there was a blinding flash, and then suddenly Loki was dangling over an empty void, his only tether to solid ground his grip on the end of Odin's staff. Thor held the other end for dear life, though he, too, dangled precariously over open air. How had they not both fallen yet?
Odin. Odin was holding onto Thor to keep both of his sons from flying off into oblivion. Did he know what Loki had done? What he'd tried to do? Was he finally proud?
"I could have done it, Father! I could've done it! For you!" For Bucky... "For all of us!"
He didn't care. No matter what he did, Loki would never be good enough; would never be Thor's equal in their father's eyes. And worse, now his only link to Midgard and to the man he loved was gone. Now Loki didn't care. To Hell with them all.
A strange sense of peace, of surrender, came over him and, without a single thought nor care for what might happen, he let go. The sensation of falling with nowhere to land was strangely comforting. Perhaps the next life would be kinder to him than this one had been.
1 note · View note
Happy Starbucks Sunday! :) Glad to hear you’re doing somewhat better.
For prompts: While battle/violence is something that is very important and venerated on Asgard, I hc that it’s not something that comes naturally to Loki as it does to other Asgardians. So I always imagine that after his first battle or first time killing someone in battle he would have been shaken to the point of sickness. That’s the prompt, hopefully I explain okay. Obviously feel free to bypass it if it doesn’t strike your interest though!
As the body falls to the ground in front of Loki, a chorus of cheers erupt behind him. Loki hadn't realized anyone was watching him, and his hackles go up, forcing his shoulders toward his ears. His helm feels about six times heavier than it usually does, and the balance seems off.
Thor comes up behind Loki and claps him on the shoulder. "Good work, my brother," he says.
Loki struggles to think of when Thor made his first kill. Was it months ago? Years? It's not something he uses the brain power to track.
"How do you feel? There shall surely be a feast in your honor tonight!" Thor spins Loki around and shows him off to their friends, their capes whipping around their ankles.
Ill, that's how Loki feels. He swallows hard against a lump in his throat. "Um," he starts, but the lump continues to rise. "No," he mutters. "No, no."
Loki takes off running and tries to get distance between himself and the onlookers. He trips over the corpse of his kill, splashing blood over the knees of his armor.
Loki lands in a curled ball, eyes and nose streaming. He gives a small heaving hiccup and bile spews out onto the grass.
"Brother?" Thor's hand appears at Loki's shoulder.
Instead of taking it, Loki bats it away. "I've done wrong. I wish to be alone."
"You're going to be trampled." Thor pulls Loki up by the shoulders and steers him in the direction of the palace.
4 notes · View notes
Avengers: The Future Generation AU
Ao3 ~ FFN
Avengers as Parents: Au in which the Avengers balance their lives as heroes and as parents.
Alongside protecting the world from any unforeseen threats, the Avengers also have their own separate missions: Parenthood. Every day, the Avengers makes the world a little safer for their children to live in.
So they won’t ever have to fight the war they had to.
However, watching the heroes that their parents were, inspired each child to follow in their footsteps. Each one had a power that matched their parents but with their own unique style.
This next generation of heroes would someday change the world.
4 notes · View notes
Part Eighteen of The Fixers
Katherine was beyond angry. The stupid witch and her friends had ruined everything, and now that man - who had somehow survived an exploding plane - had killed the only friend she had left.
So she decided to collapse half the palace roof. It was the end of the world, after all.
Unfortunately for her, Bucky jumped out of the way just in time to avoid being crushed.
Kath seethed at the sight of him, and proceeded to walk down the palace steps towards the group.
Thor stepped in front of her.
“I would not come any closer if I were you,” he said.
“Because I won’t let you. You have done enough harm.”
“Oh, please. You haven’t seen anything yet.”
To his absolute horror, Thor suddenly found himself being lifted into the air.
Unfortunately for Katherine, it didn’t last long, as she was suddenly struck by a hammer.
She collapsed onto the ground, stunned by what had happened.
“How dare you?” She shouted.
“No,” Loki said calmly, “how dare you?”
It was only then that Katherine noticed he had scars on his lips.
“I am a witch!” Katherine said desperately. “I was a demon, but once I absorbed her powers, I became a witch. I am the Grim Reaper herself! You shall die at my hand!”
A harsh laugh made Katherine turn around.
Hel smiled at her.
“That’s sweet; you think you control death? Sweetheart, I’m the Goddess of Death. I control who lives or who dies, not you. And right now, you’re boring me.”
Katherine stumbled back in shock.
“Why are you being so horrible?”
Hel didn’t answer; instead she just smiled.
At that moment, a giant grey wolf burst into the palace. His name was Fenrir, and he was a child of Loki’s.
Katherine didn’t think twice; she tried to lift the wolf up with her mind.
Luna felt a bit sorry for Katherine; the key to lifting someone up with your mind was to have a clear mind. The wolf snarled at Katherine, and was about to eat her, when Luna used Bucky’s knife to stab the wolf in the side.
“We should get out of here,” Luna said. She ran towards Katherine, and grabbed her hand.
“Why are you helping me?” Katherine hissed.
“I don’t know. But you should come with us; you’ll be safe.”
“You took everything from me! You took my family!”
“Don’t you remember me? You should at least remember Damian.”
“You’re from the cult, aren’t you?”
“You ruined my life.”
She let go of Luna’s hand, and let the palace collapse around her.
@youwouldneverbreakthechain Thank you so much for the winged horse drawing for the new chapter!
6 notes · View notes
Title: Winter's Frost
Rating: R to be on the safe side
Summary: Loki never told anyone the real reason he became so obsessed with Midgard. Much better to let them think he wanted to hurt his brother than draw their attention to the one thing in the universe that makes the God of Mischief truly vulnerable.
Notes: omg so shoooort... Every time I tried to puff it up, it felt puffed. these chapters have all been unusually short for me to begin with, so this one feels kind of pitiful lol but hopefully it's not too bad...
"I need to go."
Loki sighed faintly, hugging his broken soldier tight. "I know, so do I. I don't want to, but we both have things to do." They were both clean and dressed, and had run out of excuses to linger.
The lightest of touches under his chin urged him to look up; he was slightly taller than Bucky, but he'd been staring at the floor. The pain in his lover's eyes made him wish he'd kept that up. "Loki, you have to stop looking for me."
"I wasn't looking the last time," he pointed out, moving back and crossing his arms over his chest. "I'd thought you were dead since HYDRA captured you sixty-eight years ago."
"And yet you seem to keep finding me." Bucky shook his head, reaching for him but stopping just short of actually touching him. "Stop. I mean it. I'm a lost cause, doll."
"Then don't call me that!" he snapped, shoving the damaged wraith that was almost Bucky but not quite. The other man stumbled a step or two before he caught himself, looking surprised. Then again, the practically blank slate always looked surprised, or confused, or both. "You cannot expect me to just give up and let them use you as they wish, not when you keep showing me that somewhere in there, you're still you!"
"That's the problem!" It was Loki's turn to feel – and probably look – completely confused as Bucky raked a hand back through his unruly hair in frustration. "The longer I'm around you, the more I feel... But I don't remember. I know you, but I don't remember you. I don't remember me. If you're still seeing habits, mannerisms, whatever, from this man you remember, then it means, under HYDRA control or not, I'm still me. At the end of the day, it's still me doing all these things. I can't possibly be this paragon of virtue you think I am when you're visibly horrified by the things I've done."
"Желание," Loki snarled, "Семнадцать."
"No!" Flinching, Bucky backed away from him with wide, frightened eyes. "Don't."
"What's the matter, Sergeant?" he taunted, livid. "If it's still just you either way, what does it matter? Рассвет. Печь."
With a low, guttural growl, Bucky had him pinned to the wall by the throat, the cold metal of his fingers digging into bruises that had already formed from this same move, though of course that had been for a much different purpose. "Don't."
"You're hurting me."
"I thought you said I couldn't."
"You can't do me real harm; that doesn't mean I don't feel pain." Smirking, Loki traced little invisible lines over the seams in the arm. "And I didn't say I minded."
Looking a little lost again, Bucky released him and backed away. "Please don't say those words."
"If you're so evil; such a cruel, murderous man, why are you so afraid? Is it a lack of control that frightens you? How, if it's still you choosing to do what they say?" He stormed forward, watching the timid little bunny in leather stumble back from him and simmering with rage for what his enemies had done to him. "Their trigger controls you or it doesn't, Sergeant. You can't have it both ways. So what are you so afraid of?"
"...Me." His back hit the wall and he gasped, visibly shaking as he looked anywhere but at Loki. "Okay? I'm afraid of me."
"It's not your fault." This time it was Bucky who dropped his gaze to the floor, and Loki who – albeit much less gently – forced him to look up. "You are not a monster, James Barnes. You are not evil. You are a victim. And no matter what it takes, I will save you."
"You're wrong. Just..." He broke free and bolted for the door before Loki could grab him again. Stopping by the shattered frame, he muttered, "Just let it go."
And then he was gone, and Loki stood alone. "No." He knew Bucky wouldn't hear him, but it made him feel better to say it aloud. No, he wouldn't let it go. No, he wouldn't give up on the only man who'd ever loved him.
No, he absolutely would not let Bucky live out the rest of his days as a slave, thinking he was a monster.
There was one thing he had to say for the soldier's stubborn refusal to see the truth, though: It certainly did fan the once-dying flames of Loki's desire for vengeance. Gone was the brief urge to just grab his lover and run. The people who'd hurt him needed to pay. One way or another, HYDRA would burn.
1 note · View note
It Was Too Late (A Loki Poem)
Just a small poem from Thor’s perspective
- - -
I wanted you home, by my side
before you overdosed on jealousy.
You where loved as a brother, as a son
yet it was not enough for you.
It was never enough
until it was too late.
It was too late to save you.
Believe me, I tried.
But you betrayed me far too many times
that I long gave up ever trusting you.
So I stopped trying to save you;
you could not be changed.
You where already set in your ways.
I wonder if things could have been different
if we had noticed your pain from the beginning.
Or was it fate to become a mad man?
To never feel quite satisfied?
Loki, you were destined for so much more
than a life wasted on delusional dreams.
16 notes · View notes
Part Seventeen of The Fixers is up and running, and it’s probably one of my favourite chapters to date 🤓
I’ll Be Here
Loki & Thor, angst, 275 words
I was hit by an angst bug, so I wrote sad things.
TW: blood, injuries, death
The blood slipped between his fingers too freely as the breath in his brother’s lungs slid from shallow to nearly there at all.
“No,” Loki hissed behind clenched teeth, tasting blood on his tongue and blinking away specs of it through pain-blurred eyes. “Stop this, Thor. Stop it. Stop it.”
Loki could not stop the blood. Thor’s breath was altogether too close to stopping.
“Can you hear me?” Loki was vaguely, distantly aware that he was babbling, but the vague, distant Loki wasn’t the one half-blinded by pain and feeling his brother’s life slip away with every passing second. “Idiot. You are not—pull yourself together, brother. For someone so strong you are not even trying—”
Thor was not trying. Thor could not hear him. Thor’s eyes had not opened after the blast that had torn through them as though they were mortals made of paper, not gods of Asgard.
Loki choked. His throat was closing up, and he realized absently that there was more blood in his mouth than saliva. The whistling breathing he was hearing was his own. It wasn’t Thor’s at all.
Fumbling, Loki managed to grasp for Thor’s hand, clasping blood-slick hand to blood-slick hand. Thor’s skin was cold.
I thought I was the cold one. Thor would have laughed at that, if Loki had said it out loud. For once though, Loki could not find the words to speak. He dropped his head, vision flickering too much to focus. His head rested on Thor’s chest. Thor’s chest was still.
I’ll be here, Loki promised silently, as he closed his eyes. I’ll be here when you wake up, brother.
5 notes · View notes
Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land - Bucky Barnes x Reader
Hello to all beautiful people! Happy pride month my lovelies!!! This has been in my head, forever and I couldn't get past it. Every time I wanted to write something else, this was right there to remind me...
This is the first part. The second one is being written right now.
Warnings: My English. Everyone is alive, just cuz.
Word Count~ 9k+
Summary: It would turn out to be the most difficult thing you had ever done, but you didn’t know that. Your heart would break into many pieces, nowhere to be found, but you didn't know that. Not one moment of your life had remotely prepared you for what was about to come. You were told it was a simple and easy mission. You were reassured everything would be alright because there was no chance whatsoever to fail – it was considered to be an effortless, straightforward mission. After all, how hard could it be – it was just one file, go in, grab it, get the hell out and return home safely and fast. Unfortunately, no one had ever informed you about the circumstances under which you would have to act. Because playing a part was easy, playing people…that was another story completely. SPOILER WARNING - Time travel kinda fic!
Part I – Oblivion.
It was one of the few moments of serenity everyone would enjoy, partly because they were so rare. No wars to be fought, no worries to be dealt with, no missions to be completed. That to the Avengers meant sleep and training, while to you meant more babysitting than usual. Fury had appointed you and trusted you enough to report back to him, anything out of the ordinary. Your job had gotten pretty boring, pretty fast – most of them were never around, anyway. Days like this one, however, were testing your patience – and loyalty.
Even though he did not appreciate your calculating eye, at first, Tony was more than happy to give you your own room and enough freedom to run around the tower as if it was your own home. Well, after a certain point, it became your home, since you moved your things out of the rented apartment; you weren’t spending any time there, anyways. You usually stayed within your boundaries and only recorded anything really off, because soon enough you learned that they were a quirky bunch of people, getting closer as the years rolled by, even fighting like a family would.
Natasha called you a friend, and that was one of the highest honors achieved. Tony would let you play with his tools even though you had absolutely no idea what most of them did and Steve had offered to train you. Come to think of it, thank God he did. Wanda and Pietro, really felt like the siblings you never had, although Pietro was a flirtatious little shit. Vision was the wise uncle and Thor, when he happened to pop by, was a literal God. Bruce was always so timid and flustered by Natasha.
But then a stranger came in. Just when you had decided that you would never find the courage to ask Steve out, someone else invaded your space like nothing you had ever experienced before; and he was never really close to you, physically.
You only caught glimpses, bits, and pieces of that man, at first. You knew that Tony did not trust him at all and that Steve trusted him enough for the both of them. You knew he had a metal arm and he was called “Winter Soldier” by Tony, but Nat and Steve called him Bucky. Wanda seemed interested because for once she could not read a mind. At that, you called Fury and he was as cryptic as ever, only informing you to stay on your feet. Your gut was nudging you to do your own research but at the same time, why bother when the research material was few doors away?
You did find out about everything, eventually, mainly because you kept asking everyone up to the point that drove them insane. Once you saw his face, you knew why they were keeping him low-key monitored 24/7. He was accused of many things, that was without a question. You were watching at the live footage of the camera keeping an eye on him and you could swear that he looked straight through the lenses and burnt your face. The thing was… no one was trying to keep you away but he never wanted to get close to you or even greet you. You entered a room, he found another exit. At first, you didn’t think much of it. A person with a shitload of trauma couldn’t socialize… big whoops. But then, it started getting weirder each day.
Honestly, you wouldn’t have paid that much attention, if it wasn’t for Steve apologizing for his behavior only to you. Steve seemed off as well. It was a strange vibe that other times was so ever-present and others… you couldn’t even remember what you were worrying about. It had flooded your mind when you first met him, but again, didn’t think much of it. You were too busy gawking at him to really care about your intuition. And then, once you got used to him being well… him, the same feeling nudged you again sporadically. This was one of those times. You wanted to ask him what was the big deal but you never did.
You shook your head and walked down the aisle towards the kitchen. It was rather late for you but insomnia had taken over again, leaving you a not-so-hot of a mess. Your head was definitely not on your shoulders; you preferred dreaming wide awake, as if in a trance, all those scenarios in your head, wondering what if one of them came true…
You weren’t sure why you ended up in the kitchen, in the first place; your feet had carried you without your permission. You exhaled rather loudly while massaging your temples, eyes shut. Opening them was probably a mistake. You came face to face with blue eyes with a silver tone. Your heartbeat would have picked up if it wasn’t for the exhaustion.
“Hi” you simply offered and took a step back. He squeezed his eyes shut and all but ran away.
“Bye” you said loud enough for the entire tower to listen to you, but your patience had reached its limit. You rolled your eyes at your tactics and his attitude and grabbed a bottle of rosé wine, walking back to your room. Why not the roof, you thought, and up you went.
“I never told you to be besties with her, nut-head. But that’s rude. Even for you” you heard Tony reprimanding someone and your stomach was already in a not. You froze, trying to catch everything you could hear.
“Says you!” Natasha exclaimed, defending…him? It didn’t make sense.
“Stop it. I mean, do you even know if she is loyal to you or someone else?” he questioned but surprisingly enough it wasn’t Steve or Natasha – the two people you thought of as friends – who defended you but Tony.
“Bullshit. You better fix this Rogers. Now” he coldly demanded and exited. Thankfully, the room had another exit and so he didn’t catch you. Not that he couldn't figure it out if he wanted to. You anticipated someone to prove him wrong but no such thing ever happened. However, Natasha said something that kept bothering you for the longest time.
“We both know that’s not why you are shit to her… and you, a coward”. You didn’t sit around for more bickering. Wine down we go, you thought.
“Good morning sunshine” Tony yelled at you, making you wince in pain. You had pulled yourself together and went for “work” – replacing Pepper while she was running the company. So, you did everything Tony threw at you. He was quite the mentor if you were honest. But times like this one really did push your buttons. You pinched the bridge of your nose and looked at him and Steve.
“Hello, obnoxiously loud for your height person” you specifically choose not to include Steve, something he noticed as he arched his eyebrow. Tony caught on pretty fast but instead of staying out of it, he jumped right in.
“Who got your knickers in a twist? No! Don’t tell me! Captain Virgin?” he exclaimed right when Bucky was passing by, making you groan in frustration and facepalm. Steve turned red but kept his composure while his best friend was in shock. Tony seemed rather unphased by the scene. You tried to hand him a file but he raised his hands.
“I don’t like to be handed stuff” he said as if it was the single most mundane thing to say. You looked at him dead in the eye and got up from your seat.
“And I don’t like that I have to put up with everyone’s bullshit. But you don’t see me going like this every time one of you acts like a 5-year-old now, do you?” you said without breathing and slammed the file on the counter, in front of him, leaving the three men in awe and a bit worried.
You started walking away when Steve called for you and made you turn on your heels, approaching him like a shark was approaching its victim. He needed to know that he had hurt you.
“Come on, don’t – ”
“No, no. When you realize that I have been here even before you came along, and start treating me with respect, then I will come back. Until then, good luck sorting out your loyalties – because you should already know mine” you deadpanned and shot Bucky a poisonous glare. For a second there, you saw guilt and pain but you turned around before that second became more.
You stormed out of the tower and walked aimlessly, without really knowing where you went. You walked by the Empire State Building and your feet carried you towards Brooklyn, without you even noticing it. Hangover at its best but you tried to walk it off along with your anger. You passed a couple of coffee shops before you decided to enter one. The ornate facade and all-wood interior, with a dash of stained glass, and its extremely low-key vibe, transported you to an earlier era. It also helped that it was tucked on a street corner in Boerum Hill surrounded by handsome brick townhouses.
Although it had basically the vibes of a bar, it felt familiar and even… comfortable to you. It was called Brooklyn Inn and you had never seen anything online for it. It felt old and vintage but it was so welcoming to you as if you belonged there. You hadn’t planned on staying there but you found a seat by the bar and had the intention of ordering a coffee but you remembered why you run away and instead you ordered a glass of Malbec.
The wine was exquisite; rich, dark, and full-bodied with hints of black cherry, vanilla, and sweet tobacco. You were informed that it started with grapes from France but ended up being produced in Argentina and that the glass you were holding was indeed, French. You found comfort in that and it perplexed you. Your eyes traveled around, looking at all the different people in the pub and how many more would have had their drink here… until your gaze fell on him. You had no idea how to feel or even express that. But how did he find you? He approached you, a bit reserved but not too much. It felt that it was his idea to find you – or at least, you hoped to. You were a sucker for those people… brooding, traumatized and devilishly handsome. He sat down next to you, and you got the feeling that he had done that more times than you could count; it felt natural. Almost everything felt just the way they were supposed to.
When the bartender came to take his order, he greeted him and even held a small talk, which meant two things. Bucky was
capable of talking, just not to you and secondly, he came to this place, quite often too, if you were to judge by the friendliness and the fact that the guy knew what the “usual” meant. He was fucking dushing, you noticed.
“And one more glass of Malbec for the lady” he added right after, leaving you confused as fuck but surprised in a good way, too. You just sat there, looking at your glass, not daring to disturb whatever universe you had entered.
“I am sorry for being a jerk to you” he confessed while the drinks were served. You thanked the bartender and took a sip.
“Try looking at me when you apologize” you softly mused and you noticed a side smile forming on his lips, one that he quickly dropped. To your surprise, he did. And you found yourself captivated by his eyes.
“I am sorry, doll” his mouth betrayed him and your eyes were about to pop out of their sockets. He quickly apologized again and remained silent. You felt so awkward that you let out an airy laugh. It might not have been for you in particular but getting to be called doll but the one James Barnes was on your bucket list. The man in front of you was an infamous flirt back in the day – that much you knew from Steve, when he actually talked to you.
“S’ okay… Sergeant” you commented with an eyebrow slightly arched. He actually blushed at that and you felt very proud. You put down your glass and turned towards him.
“But why? Why were you a jerk? No offense” you quickly added, hoping to get an answer this time. He cleared his throat and adjusted his body as well. You could literally see his brain malfunctioning.
“It’s just that… I don’t know and I am not big on trusting strangers” he said but you didn’t believe it. If he didn’t know you, he could have asked. If he truly didn’t know you, he wouldn’t know where to find you – alright, maybe that was a coincidence, but what about your drink?
“Bullshit” you softly challenged him while looking at him dead in the eye but smiled nonetheless and dropped it. You sat there for a while, enjoying the vibe and the drinks until you took your wallet out to pay and leave. You weren’t sure if it was his manners kicked in, or if it was a force of habit but he stopped you…in a very physical way. He touched your hand and pushed it back – you weren’t even sure he realized it.
“Thank you, but I can pay for my drinks” you said steadily. He gave you a funny look and placed 30 dollar-bill under the receipt.
“I know” he simply commented and he gave you his hand to help you out of your stool. Yeah, you had entered another dimension. Exactly because you were so unprepared for all of it, really, you just complied. And the touch was pushing you further down a slippery slope. He even held the door open for you. “Wait, wait. Why are you being so nice?” you suddenly asked him, making him smile in question.
“Can’t I just be sorry for my attitude?” he questioned. You were about to say no but… oh, well.
“You’re going to poison me? Have you spiked my drink?” you kept asking and he let out a small laugh. He declined every accusation with a ‘nope’. You ended up walking around Brooklyn with him and you didn’t even notice. He was silent for the most part but that didn’t bother you, as you simply let your mind and eyes travel as far as they wanted. Brooklyn was the heart of the entire New York City. It was so oddly familiar to you, even though you hadn’t lived that long there.
“So… you and Steve… he tells me you are close” he tried to make small talk. It took you by surprise the fact that they had talked about you. You thought about the statement for a bit.
“Sure. I mean, obviously, I don’t know him as well as you do, but he’s a good friend” you answered truthfully. He was a very good friend. He was there for you since you met him. Come to think of it, he and Bucky acted exactly alike. Mmm, not exactly, but they both avoided you in the beginning, and then everything was perfect. He too, wouldn’t talk to you, although he did talk to you, just not… in an elaborated way. More like in
the ‘I see you here every day and I have to be polite’ way.
“Oh” it was all he said. The conversation, if one could call it that, died down after that. And it was getting late. You had to return to your job and have a talk with Tony to get him to cooperate and sign the damn contracts he initiated. “This was lovely, weirdly enough. But I do have to get back” you soothed. It was the strangest day for you. Or so you thought. He, on the other hand, had no intention of going back so early.
“Have ever been to Coney Island?” he blurted out, leaving you dumbfounded. You blinked a couple of times before answering.
“No, I don’t think I have” you told him as you crossed the Williamsburg Bridge. He slightly frowned but you really didn’t understand why.
“If you need a guide, I am available” he offered while he took a step back. You really didn't know what to think.
“Brooklyn born and bred, huh?” you joke but he took pride in that. Why wouldn't he, you thought.
“Yes ma'am” he confirmed and left you wondering what the hell just happened.
“I should go. Thank you for... the normality” you waved goodbye. He lowered his head and nodded in agreement. Without another word, you took your separate paths.
You were thinking about how people were constantly moving at quantum speeds, in their minds, in their work, building patterns and seeing past through their everyday lives. Having this socially constructive mentality that they needed to be productive to be seen as equals to their peers. Constantly in motion, to be more and criticizing their imperfections. It felt like a constant need to keep striving forward, but they would eventually lose focus on their true essence, on what their really needed. So caught up in thinking about who they were going to be that they didn’t even recognize who they were right now.
You caught yourself being one of those people and tried to find stillness in your lives, moments of silence, to come back within, to allow the rest of the world to keep moving forward, to see new objectives intuitively flowing through.
The sky was so soft, you felt that it would melt if you touched it. The darkest blue was stained with little balls of color. You wished that you could see the night sky at its glory, without the lights and pollution to destroy the magic. Your room didn’t have the best of views, anyway. You gave up trying to imagine how different the velvet canvas would have looked seventy years ago, and strolled around the compound. Everything was still and serene as if no one was even breathing. You always felt torn between big crowds and solitude, being with company and being alone, living in a big city and leaving everything behind.
He was such a fucking contradiction. He was flirtatious, charming, and romantic, but also introverted and emotional. You could never really know because of how adaptable and changeable he was. You understood his mood swings better than anyone, but it was hard even for you, to keep up with the stream of emotions that never slowed down.
He was someone whose identity had been obliterated by pain—a pain that had destroyed almost every last vestige of his personhood. It was for this reason that he almost never spoke, you thought. He was still fighting whatever HYDRA did to him. You thought of the reoccurring presence of a piercing, metallic scream—a scream that was positively visceral, expressive of a tremendous amount of pain, panic, and fear. Brutal and brutalizing, that noise playing in his head over and over again, impacted him on a palpable, instinctive, organic level, giving sonic form to the blank, numbness inside the Winter Soldier’s mind. He was trying to fight it and you could see that. The demons were still inside, though.
Steve had told you that Bucky was one of the few people that actually recognized what it was that made him good, before his transformation into Captain America. has been made of the fact that Bucky Barnes is one of the few people to recognize the greatness in Steve Rogers before his transformation into Captain America. You saw the way he believed in Steve, too. But you wanted to yell at him that, yes, Steve was great but so was he. He didn’t believe he could achieve that kind of greatness but he didn’t mind, he had plenty of time to come to terms with it, as he had revealed once, a very unholy hour.
And that was exactly what made him great; his selflessness, his choice of friendship instead of jealousy. You were watching him again. From afar, always from afar. Never from near. You watched him and observe the way his hair had grown the last few weeks and how some strands were falling down to his eyes. He brushed them away, harshly, and you wondered how these bruised hands would feel on your skin. His skin glistened warmly like desert sand when the sun caressed him.
You watched bruises fade and reappear, lipstick smeared on collarbones - or was it blood? - his skin shimmering like naked gold, flesh piercing out between his teeth. It was your destiny to watch and fall, to fall and watch. All over again. Watch. Stop. Repeat until internal collapse. This time, he was watching you too. His eyes were blue, a particular kind of blue between the depths of the ocean and the frozen cover of a winter’s lake. A smug
blue that broke through the purple sky like a whispered sunset. Bucky was watching you and he had no intention of averting his eyes and you felt your blood freezing inside your veins. It was a bitter realization of how much power that man held over you. Your body shivered.
You couldn’t prevent it anymore; your eyes were drawn to the sun like a magnetic field that hypnotized you over and over again and you were terrified by the light but you were more terrified of being surrounded by the dark again. You blinked. You sit there, frozen in time, while everyone else became witness of the silent conversation between the two of you, but you had a hard time understanding if it was your heart that hammered beneath your ribcage or if it had stopped.
You were dreaming again. You were daydreaming that there was a gap between reality and something like blood was sticking between the sharp edges of his collarbones but you didn’t mind because his hands were on your neck, on your face, in your hair – “do you want me to touch you? I’ve seen the way you look at me, I want to touch you, be still” - and you were, you were still, you were quiet when he dragged you over to the wall and pushed his knee between your legs and you wanted this, wanted him and his fingers dug painfully in your cheeks and your chin and he held you still, so still you couldn’t move and it hurt…
You shook your head. Your mind was playing with you, mocking your naivety. He was watching but he was only watching, as were you – from afar. Never once getting closer than that.
“Are you okay?” a worried whisper, violently shook you out of your dream. It felt so real; his touch burnt marks and you could swear you knew how they felt.
“Yes” you said as in a trance. Steve didn’t believe you. He knew that answer, he used that answer. He looked at you concerned but you looked at the other man walking behind him, not really paying attention to anything he said. You often wondered if he was able to just… read your mind. It was easy, too easy, to fall for him. He was tender and familiar. He understood so much of his surroundings and experienced deeper than anyone you had known. But you wished you knew if he truly felt – it seemed easier to be numb.
Steve arched an eyebrow and gave you the look, which was actually wasted since you weren’t looking at him. Bucky saw you and didn’t turn away, instead he looked right back at you.
“I have to go” you blurted out and left as fast as your legs could carry you.
“What about Nat?” you heard Steve asking and you swallowed your heart. “It’s different” Bucky simply answered. You stopped breathing so you wouldn’t miss a word.
“How? They are both from your past” Steve offered but your head couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“That’s not true and we both know it” he replied and silence took over. You had taken one step when a response was out there, for you to deal with it.
“Of course, I know. But she doesn’t know and we cannot tell her”.
Days and nights passed by in an everlasting circle. Minutes turned into months and your life moved on. You never asked what was the big secret; you took what they gave you and cherished it. You never lied about anything, you were always there and somehow, you had gained Bucky’s trust. He confided in you, he laughed around you without worrying about what people might think, as did Steve. But they never said a word. You had caught some other weird comments as well but you brushed them off. They would tell you when and if they felt comfortable. You had a pretty vague idea about it and you tested it more than once but never crossed a line.
Little things like small comments about their past, questions asked but never answered, words that didn’t correspond with today… you didn’t really know what to think but you started realizing that something was going on… since before you met them. Maybe they knew a girl with strong opinions and quick temper back in the day and they were projecting. Maybe, they just wanted things to go back to the way they used to be. Who could blame them?
Bucky was on the cold tiles of his bathroom and was pressing his hands flat down until the chill crawled up in his bones. He felt burnt and touched and scorched in all the places that he thought had healed a long time ago. Somewhere in the background, the water tap was dripping in tandem with his heart. Drop, drop, drop, your name was spelled…
You had just entered his room, waiting to find him looking outside the window. Instead, you heard the ragged breathing. When he closed his eyes, he saw crime scenes. A marketplace in the afternoon glow. Orange lights switching to red. Honking cars. His lifeless eyes fixed on his target. And the scene always ended with a twist – his target was no longer the bold man; he was no longer the Winter Soldier, it was no longer the present, you were no longer safe.
Drop, drop, drop. Bucky opened his eyes when the sun had long died on the horizon. One of his hands was resting on the tiles – the other wasn’t his. He felt like an emergency. But you kneeled down and sat next to him, with both of your hands on the tiled floor. He remembered a scene that had yet to happen. He wanted it to.
“Tell me you need me”, he said and his lips were shivering against your sunburned skin, “tell me you need me, tell me you can’t fucking breathe without the scent of my cologne or the taste of my skin under your tongue. Tell me”, he said and he was frantic, almost wild in his eyes, “tell me you want me. Tell me you want me so much that it fucking burns inside of you. Tell me you’re not ashamed”, and this time the man was almost begging with his hands roaming all over your face and his eyes blinded from the dying sun, “tell me you love me, please, tell me that all the flesh I burn and all the blood I swallow underwater is worth it. Tell me you won’t leave me”, he whispered and something tasted acid like bile and salty like tears in the back of your throat and the air was unusually hot, and each of his words left knife marks between the hollows of your ribs.
“Tell me this isn’t all in my head”, the man finally broke out and covered himself with your body like a blanket made of waves and you kissed his eyelids and watched as the skin under your lips melted to ashes.
“It’s too cold for you” he croaked and you chuckled. You shook your head, and you knew that even in the dead of the night he could see it.
“You’re not too cold for me” you reassured his not spoken worry. He was terrified and you only got a glimpse. Fridays were supposed to be movie nights – the guys educating you in old cinema – but you didn’t mind at all the scene you were witnessing. You slowly approached him and even more reservedly you offered your hand in a kind gesture – he could pick himself up, physically, but sometimes that was not enough. He touched you, grabbing onto your hand for dear life. The lights were off inside his room. He didn’t turn them on and you respected that decision.
It was late; again. In any other scenario, you would consider this romantic but his fragile state made you scared and angry at the people who bent him backward. He sat on his bed and you didn’t dare move from his side. He had been careful enough to hide this part away from you, to hide the panic attacks that came with it, the nightmares, the voices. You sat there in absolute silence until you moved your hand to touch his metal arm. He looked at you as if you were insane – because he was afraid of himself enough for the both of you.
“I’m scared of the darkness inside of me. It is growing, day by day, and I fear the day it consumes me. You called me a hero when we first met, Steve told me… but I feel like I have been the villain all along” he found himself confessing and you had no idea what hit you. You had seen him down, sad even angry but never so… broken. Ready to give up everything.
“I called a hero because no one else would be standing here, sitting next to me, talking about their trauma. I called a hero, not because heroes are pure light – no, because every single one of them is trying to fight the demons inside. Because, you have walked through the gates of hell, into the firepits, and survived to see… not the pearly gates but this mediocre existence, full of mundane little things” you admitted without even realizing what was the very essence of your words.
“I tried to unlearn how to hold the guns and the knives the way they taught me. I tried to unbury myself from all those corpses of people they put above me. I tried to erase them from my system. With scissors and razor blades and butcher knives and broken shards of a mirror. I don’t want to be killed twice” he winced at the thought and you acted out of instinct, cupping his face with your hands and looking deep into his eyes, to see where those demons were hiding and obliterate them any way you could. He was taken aback but didn’t move.
“Do I scare you?” he asked in a small voice, too afraid to destroy the stillness of the moment.
“You could never”.
He lied sleeping next to you, hair messy, body relaxed. You watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, counting the beats in between. Dust settled in the air and you watched it drizzling through the glimmer of white light that shined through the blinds. You wanted to reach out and touch him but you stopped mid-movement. Instead, you touched him with your eyes. Cheeks, nose, collarbone, lips. The air around him tasted like autumn. You wanted to drown in it.
His hand was in your hand and your hand was in his and his lips were on yours and your lips were on his and his fingers touched your skin and yours touched his shoulders and-
You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep. It felt so… right. So real. You could almost touch him and sense his warmth but something was off. In your dream, he was younger, careless, carefree…and you never felt the metal of his arm.
You had made a promise of never falling asleep when he was around because even if it felt so damn right, you never wanted to make him uncomfortable. However, seeing him sleeping so peacefully took some of the guilt off of your shoulders.
He was serene, almost resembling the disoriented dream of yours. Softer, mellow, and not tormented by those demons that hunted him each waking moment. You tried your best not to touch him and slipped under the bedding, still very much able to understand just how much heat he was radiating, making you fall asleep again. Easily.
There was half a carton of milk leftover from breakfast on the table. You reached out and took it, drinking it straight from the carton. He scowled at you and took a glass from one of his cupboards. His hand reached out, but stopped. You waited for the touch to burn you. It didn’t.
“Darlin’, we do have glasses” he mocked you but his hand cupped your face, lips inches apart, when he moved away with a wicked smile.
“Fucking sadist” you whispered and tugged him closer for a quick kiss. He smiled, lethally blinding. The only thing that mattered was him; the kitchen disappeared from view and you shut your eyes closed, getting lost in the moment.
You never talked about your dream to anyone. Even Wanda was forbidden from snooping around there. At least you hoped she didn’t. They were all the more vivid and you thought that you were either falling even harder or you were wishing for something that could never happen in your line of work. You had stopped reporting to Fury – and he knew. You had practically been adopted as the rookie who would help around and on missions but your skills were more intellectual than physical. Now, you could kill, you could fight, maybe not as well as Natasha or Steve but you preferred not to.
Bucky preferred you not to be anywhere near but it wasn’t his choice, after all. He had grown closer, almost attached to your hip but not exactly. There was something missing, something that didn’t exactly fit but you shook it off, as you had done with Steve, and moved on.
Today was one of those effortless days; no worries whatsoever. Tony was insisting on preparing brunch, but him being … him, you all ended up eating a makeshift breakfast. You had been seated on a high stool as you spotted the half-empty carton of juice on the table. You reached out and took it, drinking it straight out of the carton. And then everything was in slow motion, everything was familiar. He rolled his eyes and scowled you, as he took a glass from one of the cupboards. He poured the leftover juice into it and with a mocking smile, handed it to you. But you were too frozen to do anything but look at him, eyes wide open and mind shut.
“What? We do have glasses here” he told you in a funny way as if he had no idea what just happened. The man in front of you was the same fucking person in the same fucking context. But how could that be? Were you predicting the future? Or… had you lived that before?
You took too much time to answer, or even react in a way that they grew worried. But you didn’t know how to reassure them that you were okay because you weren’t. Your mind was playing tricks, one moment you were standing in the tower’s kitchen and the next you were on a stool in a vintage kitchen, small and cozy, with just one man. And then back to now. You tried to hide your face in the obnoxiously big cup of tea you had in front of you, which did not go unnoticed but you just couldn’t cope.
You were wondering whether or not should you respond the way you remembered you had, in your dream, or just let it pass. After a while, you knew Wanda was going to scoop and that why you warned her, quite loudly too. Please, don’t. Don’t. You knew she heard your thought clear as day because her eyes popped and blushed slightly, leaving Pietro wondering what had happened. You let it slide for now and kept your posture while everyone else was having a rather good time.
The whole thing wasn’t dying down any time soon but you needed air to breathe and space to exist. But you also needed an exit strategy. Or rather… a line. You stood up, thanked Tony but not really, and said you were going to start working for a living, meaning you were about to play around in Tony’s lab. No one found anything suspicious. While walking behind Bucky, you slightly leaned in and whispered that line.
“Fucking sadist”. His eyes shot up and his head snapped at you. He recognized it, and you were more than assured that this had happened again. But how, you didn’t know. For now, you were content knowing that at some point in this world, at some distant reality, you had felt his lips on yours. You would come back for answers but for now, you just went out to get a proper coffee. No Avengers.
Lately, you had been feeling rather off, out of touch with reality but you didn’t mind that much. Sometimes you caught yourself daydreaming about images that had flashed before your mind when you were asleep, while others you were just thinking about him. It was just him. Every day, all day.
“Don’t make me use Wanda” Tony warned you out of the blue, startling you and making you look up, avoiding his gaze. He rolled his eyes so hard that you were afraid they were going to get stuck.
“You wouldn’t” you fired back, very much assured that he would not even think about it… but he surprised you.
“Well, it’s not like I need her powers to understand that you have been crushing on Barnes” he outed you without even worrying about people actually listening. You wanted to shush him but that would put you in a difficult position.
“Tony… please don’t” you simply asked of him. It was the first time you saw him worried and perplexed, at a loss of words. But then, corking an eyebrow, he just dropped his job and came to sit next to you. It was his lab, you couldn’t say no.
“Listen, you know that I am not particularly fond of his company – ”
“Tony, you hate the guy” you cut him off, making him arch his eyebrow again in agreement. You smiled but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.
“All I want to say is be careful” he concluded and made you realize that he did care about his team; well, not everyone, but for the most part, he did.
“Thank you, Tony, but let’s be realistic… I am never going to make a move, and I don’t think he is interested in making one either” you summed up what you had gathered. Tony seemed to disagree with your statement, shaking his head but not saying a word, which was suspicious.
“What? Do you know something?” you pushed further but he just got up and went back to his job.
“Not everything is what it seems, honey” he cynically quoted and left you with a gazillion questions, which he wasn’t going to answer. You knew that he knew something and that Steve knew too. Maybe Natasha, but you weren’t sure, Wanda probably, since she can pretty much-read minds, and therefore Vision as well. Clint had a family, Pietro had god knows how many girls, Thor was in Asgard and Bruce was falling for Natasha. Sam and Rhodey were placing bets for all of you. They all had their own problems to be invested in your non-existent love life.
All it took was a mission gone wrong and Fury was breathing down your neck each day and each night, demanding you report to him every single detail. Which you didn’t. Not everything. Why would it matter that you spent most nights sleeping next to Bucky because it had become a thing after having heard him suffering and barging in without second thought? Why would it matter that you never left that night or any night after that? Why would it matter that he had opened up about his past, slowly revealing all those details that you, somehow, already knew? Why would it matter that Steve was trying to warn his best friend that this was a bad idea and upon confronting him, he went silent and couldn’t even look you in the eye.
Why would it matter to Fury that you had been having all those dreams that seemed so real, vivid, and true to be just that? Why would it matter that you had a beautiful friendship with Wanda and Pietro? Why would it matter that Thor was hitting on you, ever so discretely, but permanent enough to make Bucky jealous? At least you thought he was… or rather, hoped. You really didn’t understand what difference it would make… Maybe if you had been completely honest with Fury, he would never have given you the solo mission. Perhaps, it would have been for the best. Probably not.
Tony was watching you like a hawk, whenever Bucky was in the same room but even he had to admit that whenever you were around he was more of a puppy than an attack dog, and he kind of appreciated that. Deep down, he knew that you and Steve were right about him but his pride and grief didn’t let him say it in so many words. He showed it by calling him by his name, joking with him, and even sitting next to him. Bucky was grateful for every single chance he was given, and every single day he tried his best.
All those little things, you thought of as personal and never disclosed them with Fury. Maybe too personal. They had become your family and you couldn’t just turn on them. As you watched them interact with each other you just saw a big, kind of dysfunctional but very loving family.
“So that’s your thing… you observe” he startled you and you quickly turned around to see a smug-looking face.
“It’s the best tactic” you carefully answered while searching for any kind of sign in his eyes. But he gave you very little. You shouldn’t have hoped for anything more but you were crushing indeed. He kept staring at you, checking you out from head to toe. You could tell that he … at least, appreciated your look. You were wearing a dark red dress with an elegant halter neckline, form-fitting bodice, empire waist, lace-up elastic back, and knee-length skirt. It had a black ribbon sash that garnished your empire waistline providing the perfect finishing touch. A winged eyeliner and bold, dark red lips were all you needed, makeup-wise.
You knew that he was still looking at you when you decided to grab your drink and walk over to the others, leaving him to admire your naked back as you swayed your hips a bit more. It didn’t take him long to join you.
The night went on pretty smoothly. Tony was a rather drunk jerk, Pepper was embraced and slightly angry at him but nothing new there. Wanda and Vision were in a world of their own and no one could blame them; Thor was drinking with Steve, while Clint and Pietro were betting who would pass out first. Rhodey and Sam were comparing their flying style. Bruce and Natasha were flirting shamelessly and you were enjoying your beer while listening to a very talkative Bucky. He hadn’t shut up ever since Steve had brought up old Brooklyn. And all the girls Bucky was seeing… There was cockiness in his voice and pride in his attitude, two things not so usual.
Some people would call that a small party, a gathering, but to you, that was just another Friday night. Everything was perfect until F.R.I.D.A.Y announced one Nick Fury and one Maria Hills. Suddenly, everyone stopped talking and you simply swallowed hard. You felt it in the pit of your stomach. He was there for you. And it was never that simple with Fury.
“You’re having a party and didn’t invite me?” he mocked you, but Tony was faster.
“Sorry, we’re closed. Invitations only” he said very seriously. He was still not big on trusting him and honestly, he was right. You stood up and tried your best to hide behind Bucky’s broad silhouette. He sensed it and was confused but not a moment later, he froze. There was a moment of realization that you would understand later on. He tried to shield you from Fury’s view, while Steve… did the same, as he walked in front of you.
“It won’t take long. I just need to borrow her” he pointed directly at you and a rush of cold air was pushed down your lungs. No, every part of your conscience and subconscious was trying to warn you; it was as if your body was scarred to move. You shook it off and hesitantly walked towards him.
“It’s only gonna take a minute. I’ll be right back” you assured them but the look on Bucky’s face was one of dread. He reached out and grabbed your wrist. Fury rolled his eyes.
“I’ll be in the other room” he informed you but you really didn’t care about him. Your hand was on fire by his touch.
You looked worried as well but you couldn’t understand why. Bucky seemed to know more than he let on but now was not the time. He simply brought you closer to him with desperation. You didn’t know how to react. He had never been that touchy or that straightforward with you.
“Remember this, please” he begged you, and as you were going to ask what, why and other possible questions, he cupped your face and planted a pained kiss on your lips. Your breath was caught on the back of your neck, your mind shut down and your eyes had never closed that fast before. You felt the agony, the emotions flowing towards you, the pain-stained past… you felt him.
He let go, unwillingly. He looked pale as if he had seen a ghost; or maybe you were one. His eyes never left yours and when his hand fell through thin air, his breath hitched, he immediately tried to grab you but Steve called him, ever so softly, that you never heard it clearly. But alas, it had to happen.
Dumbfounded, you walked into the room with Fury, not being able to process anything, still feeling him close but too far away.
“You talk to no one, you change nothing, you come back to your boyfriend and you still say nothing, got it?” he deadpanned but you were too lost to be able to understand any of it.
“What do I do?” you asked purely out of habit. He went into details, nothing too descriptive. You had to use one of the things he gave you to be transported, whatever that meant, in and out of where you were going. You had to find a file with the number 32557038 in a military base and return home. Under different circumstances, you would have declined but you were not in the right mind and all you wanted to do was go back to Bucky and have a do-over. But, alas.
“You’re going now”.
“Press this when you’re ready and press it again when you’re done”. He didn’t give you much of a choice, as he pressed it for you, and you spun around.
32 notes · View notes
Weekend Plans - 1
Summary: Not all weekends are meant to be reserved for comfort food, pjs and movie marathons.
Warnings: Strictly 18+, extreme smuttiness, stuff gets kinky.
Pairing: Thor x Reader
Square Filled: Size difference
A/N: Written for @avengersbingo. I’m not even going to apologise. Fasten your seat belts and enjoy!
Read Part 1 here.
Thor Odinson Taglist – @raspberrymama @bitchycherryblossomlove @jennie22feona @innerpaperexpertcloud @thorfanficwriter @darklydeliciousdesires @longlostinanotherworld @miss-smutty
Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @suchababie @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias @fanofalltheficsx @ladyburberry @chickensarentcheap @dontmindmyname123 @old-enough-to-know-better73
He had made you turn around in his lap to discuss the details of the plan brewing in your mind but also distract you so he could get down to business sooner.
“Do we need a safe word?”
Thor’s deep chuckle at your choice of words travelled straight to your core as his fingertips travelled down your spine, leaving goose bumps in their wake.
“You’re very funny, my love.”
“That I am. You’re lucky you have me.”
“Indeed. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Such an honest confession from this fifteen-hundred-year-old God had your heart melt.
“No no we’re not getting mushy Thor, it’s supposed to be sensual.”
He agreed and sat up straight, the sudden compliance made you think if at all he’d ever be on board with one of your fantasies.
“Umm, I have a question. Do you like it when I take control?”
You felt self-conscious for a second before the eager spark in Thor’s eyes wiped it all away, excitement running through you as he nodded.
“I absolutely love it, my beautiful dove. Maybe we should try it more often.”
You pretended to think before pulling him in for a short kiss which turned into a lingering one as his hands drew your clothed core closer to his bulge, making his presence known.
“And what about lingerie? Yes, or no?”
“You look perfect in everything you wear.”
“As long as it’s not interfering.”
“Do you like it when I pull your hair, my love?”
“Ugh, yes. I love it!”
“Okay, what else?” You wondered, scratching your nails lightly against the back of his neck.
“This is bringing out a rather interesting side of you, my sweet.”
You winked as he caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. Just discussing it all was enough to send your adrenaline into overdrive.
Gearing up for a marathon indeed.
The bedroom was fading away into nothingness as your languid kisses turned fervent. Lips moving in harmony, tasting and exploring one another, tracing a familiar path.
Clothes a tangled mess, you hummed against Thor’s mouth as he laid you against the plush cushioned couch. His considerably larger frame looming over you before he met your eyes, a heady mixture of desire and love swimming in his electric blues.
Your legs parted willingly to accommodate him, the sweatshirt you wore rolling up enough to let your core meet the tent in his pants. Thor sucked in a sharp breath as your hips rose up for more friction.
“I thought you wanted to take it slow.”
“Maybe I don’t now…this is slow enough.”
Your voice came out a needy whine, adding to Thor’s amusement as he swiped his thumbs over your covered nipples before placing open-mouthed kisses over the fabric until they hardened. He was moving south, hands replacing where his mouth was as the pliant flesh of your breasts moulded against his touches.
When your hips lifted off the couch a second time, he pushed them down firmly, eyes flashing a silent warning for you to obey.
You thought he’d discard the piece of clothing, instead he revealed your belly, bunching up the sweatshirt around your middle. His tongue teasing your belly button as he parted your legs wider, getting off the couch and kneeling before pulling you to the edge as it wasn’t large enough to accommodate his size.
Securing your legs over his shoulders, Thor turned his head to place a small kiss on your ankle as he continued the path towards your awaiting core. Your breathing picked up as he trailed a wet line of kisses, finally reaching your inner thigh where he nipped the skin lightly, emitting a whine from you.
"Shh, don't worry, I'll take very good care of you, love."
And taking care of you he did.
Licking a thick strip up your slit with enough pressure to have your back arch off the back of the sofa with a gasp. Thor repeated the action a few times, keeping his eyes on every reaction of yours before his mouth closed on your bundle of nerves.
Pulling your folds apart, he exposed more of the sensitive flesh for him to feast on. Your hands found home in his shorter hair, pulling on the ends, guiding and encouraging his movements as desperate moans left your lips.
Moving over to tend to your entrance, Thor plunged his tongue inside all the while thumbing your clit, never leaving it unattended. He revelled in the way you tasted, like he always had, relishing you like his favourite meal and making sure to bring you utmost pleasure.
Sensing you were close as your hips thrust up against his face, he brought his hands up to fondle your breasts while circling his tongue around your clit once more, this time increasing the pace as you cried out loud.
Prying your legs open that threatened to clamp shut to make sure you rode out your orgasm he continued his relentless ministrations.
“Wow. I mean…wow.” You managed to mumble as your heart beat rapidly against your ribcage, tiny muscles in your thighs still twitching.
Thor emerged sporting your arousal all over his lips proudly, crawling over to share it with you as a wave of embarrassment washed over you. It was quickly replaced with an increased desire for your gorgeous man as his tongue battled with yours.
“I’m going for a shower.”
You stood up after him, confused as to why he’d leave with unfinished business that was currently poking at you through his shorts.
“I won’t be long. You stay put; I’m not done with you.”
A wink later he disappeared into your bedroom towards the attached bath, leaving you and your throbbing pussy waiting for more.
Guess you’d have to work some more on that patience he spoke about.
Fifteen minutes seemed hour-like as you tried but failed to obey your God of mind-blowing sex-skills and thunder. Lounging on the sofa had transferred onto your bed as you mindlessly went through your phone, trying to get your mind off of things but you needed more.
A collection of countless shirtless pictures of Thor served as a perfect means of spending your idle time, however it turned into something else rather quickly. Unconsciously, your hand travelled down your body to stroke yourself and try to relieve some of the ache left by the Asgardian till he returned. You were toying with your folds when the bathroom door flung open, it was as if he knew you were misbehaving.
“Were you touching yourself without my permission?”
Avoiding his gaze, you sat up against the headboard, waiting for him to say something trying to ignore the pounding of your heart and the desire that pooled in your belly. He let the low-hung towel fall away from his dripping wet physique.
“You want to try that again, little dove?”
Exuding all that was raw masculinity, Thor crawling over your tiny frame and flipped you over on your front. When you sat up to remove the sweatshirt, he made a disgruntled sound.
“I’m just helping you.”
“I’ll decide that, not you.”
You had to admit the sense of authority with which he spoke was hot, every now and then you enjoyed being put in your place. Pushing you down against the pillows, he brought your hands behind and held them together by the wrists with one while his other hand pulled your ass up for display.
"If you're going to act like a little brat then I'm going to treat you like a little brat."
With that, a sharp slap across your right butt cheek made you lurch forward with a gasp. To even things out, a strike across your left one was met with another cry as you bit your bottom lip, whimpering already.
“You don’t touch yourself without my permission, little dove. Do you understand?”
Another smack. This time to remind you how to properly address him when he was in control.
“Yes, my King.”
You knew it was the right answer when he smoothed your tingling skin gently.
“Part your legs for me.”
You obeyed immediately, wanting to please your lover. Thor’s thick fingers found your slit, dripping for him already as he smirked, relishing in the effect he had on you.
He palmed your cunt, spreading your juices around, slapping your butt once more when he found your hips pushing back in desperation.
“Please, my King.”
“Go on, tell me what you need, my dove.” His baritone sending shivers down your spine as you gulped and looked over your shoulder.
“I want your fingers in me.”
A chuckle that reverberated deep in his chest made your pussy clench onto nothing, that was until his fingers halted at your channel for a second before pushing in, two at once. With minimum resistance, Thor began massaging your walls with expertise, feeling you resist the urge to push back against them as you bit your bottom lip harder.
The more he impaled, he felt your legs start to twitch making him stop. There was no point in whining, you knew better than that by now, so you simply waited.
“What? No needy cries?”
“I want to be a good girl for my King.”
Your whispered admission made Thor’s cock jump, eager to be buried in your warmth. Taking pity, he plunged his fingers back in, this time increasing his speed and hitting all the right spots. Your legs starting to tremble as you felt the coil in your belly tighten.
"Look at you, I've only started using my fingers and you're already shaking."
The response you mustered crossed between a ‘yes’ and a strangled moan as he brought you closer to climax. Just when you were ready to let go, he pulled out it his fingers again.
"I don't care how good it feels, you'd better not cum until I tell you to."
Flipping you back over, Thor picked you up in his arms and carried you until a cool surface of the nearby wall hit your flushed back.
Lining himself against your entrance, he pressed his forehead to yours and finally entered you in one swift move. Your walls clenched around his length instantly, craving release at this point as tears prickled in the corners of your eyes.
Pulling all the way out, Thor pushed back in, a deep grunt echoing in the otherwise silent room as he set a slow but brutal pace.
You held onto his broad shoulders and buried your face in his neck as he pushed you up against the wall with every powerful thrust. Your moan got lost into his shoulder, making him pull you back with your hair.
“I know you can be louder than that.”
He carried you back to bed, slipping out of your slick in the process before laying you down gently and entering you again. You shuddered and let your moans slip out uninhibited as he fucked you relentless at this point.
You felt your entire body was on fire, every muscle working towards bringing you to your orgasm as Thor ploughed in and out of your heat with abandon, the air filled with the sinful sounds of skin slapping against skin.
“Cum for me, little dove.”
Your body quivered before your nails dug into his shoulders, your loud cry was followed by your walls fluttering deliciously around his mighty cock. Thor grunted against your hair as he felt you clamp down on him, triggering his own climax.
You felt a surge of warm buzz wash over you, almost electric as he emptied himself, thick ropes of cum painting your walls white as his hips faltered.
"I love the sounds you make when you come undone, my love."
A lazy smile formed on your face as you lay all limbs tangled and sweaty against the sheets, breaths steadying with every passing minute.
“Was this a part of your plan?”
Pulling your back against his chest, Thor wrapped his arms around you and kissed your temple softly. Feeling his erection poke against your hip, you stared back at the man, impressed and only slightly shocked.
“Get some rest, my love. The weekend isn’t over yet.”
Happy weekend? 😈
81 notes · View notes