#elizabeth writes

[daringyounggrayson]

If you are still taking requests, could I ask for a Jason Comes Back Right with Alfred? I'd love to see Alfred validating Jason's anger while also denying that he never cared about Jason. Even better if Alfred keeps the fact that he's talking to Jason and trying to reconcile from everyone else. I would love it even MORE if Jason cooked for Alfred for once?

you got the last bingo prompt! thanks for the request, I hope you like it :)

i think we're haunted (also on AO3)

“Ah, Master Jason, good to see you haven’t left the grounds after all,” Alfred says as he enters the kitchen. “Shall we inform Master Bruce?”

Jason glares at the pan, waiting for the pancakes to be ready to flip.

“Still giving us the silent treatment, I take it.”

Jason pushes the spatula under one of the pancakes and takes a peek—still too pale.

“That’s alright. You need time to process.”

Jason huffs, finally turning around to glare at Alfred. The man doesn’t seem to notice, or just doesn’t care.

“I understand why you’re angry,” Alfred says after the staring contest goes on for a moment too long. “We should have told you about Master Tim much sooner, but I cannot change the past. I hope you can forgive us, given time, and that we can move forward.”

For a moment, Jason forgets his vow of silence. “Bruce replaced me! How am I supposed to just forget about that?”

Alfred’s head tilts slightly to the left, and a fresh wave of empathy washes over his face. “Oh, my dear boy, he didn’t replace you. Tell me this, do you believe you were merely a replacement for Master Dick?”

Jason says nothing, and not because he’s taken up his vow of silence again; he just doesn’t know. Part of him almost wants to talk to Dick about it, get his perspective. Was it just odd timing, Bruce finding Jason so soon after Dick, and then finding Tim so soon after Jason? Or can Bruce just not stand being alone? Has he ever cared about any of them, or have they all simply been tools, distractions?

Alfred rests his hand on Jason’s shoulder, and Jason lets him. The older man says, “I imagine it hurt to see him working with a new partner. It must have seemed like he hadn’t grieved you at all, or that all you were to him was a soldier. But that’s not true. You know that, don’t you?”

Jason turns sharply as his lip begins to tremble and tears build in the corners of his eyes. He flips his pancakes. When he has control of his voice, he states, “None of you ever cared about me. And you all wish I was still dead.”

Bruce has been avoiding him more often than not, too busy with the new recruit. And when he visits—or Alfred or Dick—he knows it’s just out of some obligation. No one enjoys spending time with him these days.

“I believe you are angry and hurt and upset, and this is clouding your judgment of both the past and present. We have cared about you since the day we met you, and we grieved your loss so deeply that there were days I feared we wouldn’t survive it,” Alfred confesses. “Your return has been nothing but a blessing, and we are so grateful to have you back. I admit that we have not handled everything perfectly, but that comes with the nature of uncharted territory. Perhaps you need to be a little more patient and understanding with us as well.”

Jason scoffs, moves his pancakes to a plate and pours more batter into the pan. As far as he’s concerned, he’s the one who died, which means he gets a free pass to be as harsh and snarky as he sees fit.

“I also believe that Robin and Master Tim are not the only things that have made you angry.”

“Oh yeah? And what else am I angry about?” Jason snaps.

Alfred remains calm. “That is not for me to presume, lad. Though I’m here if you would like to discuss anything.”

Hmm, what could possibly be making Jason angry? Could it be that his murderer is walking free at this very moment, having recently broken out of Arkham (again)? Could it be that the clown was never even charged for his murder and has thus never been brought to proper justice? Or maybe the fact that his own birth mother betrayed him and led him to his death? Or maybe that Bruce, the man he used to consider a father, was too late to save him and hadn’t even bothered to avenge him?

And now he’s alive again, having to deal with all of these things he never should have had to deal with. Worse, he doesn’t even get to try to go back to living his life. Jason Todd is still legally dead, and according to Bruce, not stable enough to leave the house anyway.

He feels like he's being haunted by his past and the kid he should've/could've been. Or no, maybe that's wrong. Maybe he is the ghost. An angry ghost cursed to haunt his old home, his old life. Maybe the rest of the family can sense it too; maybe they feel like they're being haunted.

Jason flips the next set of pancakes.

Alfred doesn’t speak again, but he does squeeze Jason’s shoulder comfortingly, and he allows it. Alfred stays in the kitchen, too. He thankfully gives up on conversation and sits at the counter, and Jason hears the scratch of a pencil against newspaper; the crossword, he guesses.

After the pancakes finish, he grabs two plates, one for himself and one for Alfred. He also pours two glasses of orange juice and grabs silverware, napkins, and the jug of maple syrup.

He sits next to the man who helped raise him during the last few years of his life, the man who’s still trying to raise him now.

They sit together in silence and eat pancakes.

[devotedtoafrozenheart]

Wasted times. Chapter one.

Loki x female! reader.

Summary: With literally no-one looking his way, it was just too easy for Loki to grab onto the tesseract, and also you, so he was able to transport away from the collapsing Tony Stark and everyone else in the stupid Avengers tower. Doing this, having messed up a so-called 'sacred' timeline, Loki lands himself in the TVA, and as he seized your arm, taking you down with him, you also end up there. Stuck with the raving, handsome god of mischief. At first observation, you genuinely thought he was a sadist. But (time?) with him reveals something so much more. For one thing, he's awfully sad and poetic, and he's not as evil as he looks.......

A/N: My first ever actual post on tumblr. No followers but the good old cheesebot. But hey, if anyone wants to read this, well, feel free. If you enjoyed it, please like and reblog!! Even more amazingly, please give me a follow!

Warning: Loki and y/n have an emotional shouting match, frequent swearing, suggestions of depressing thoughts and a few graphic sentences.

For you, being the youngest Avenger in the team was hard.

There was still lots of college work to worry about, there was still bills to worry about, there was worry about controlling your three un-predictable powers, trying to convince your mother you weren’t going to die was a major stressor, and living in New York, within the presence of superheroes and supervillains, was a total nightmare on it’s own.

Long story short, it had been an exhausting day, and a very, very turbulent life.

To start a brief prologue of all the chaos, you had three supernatural powers.

The normal life of an average, artistic twenty-year old girl wasn’t so normal for you, because you were quote on quote, an enhanced being. You had the power to generate bright fire in your hands, the power to move things around with your mind, and the power to heal other people’s injuries with a single human touch.

No one knew how or why you had gotten these three powers, you didn’t even know yourself.

And if someone did secretly know, well, they certainly had kept that part quiet.

Life was just weird like that sometimes.

You understood, weirder stuff had happened to you anyway, living in New York city. With the superpower status and all those phony remarks about a hero initiative, you had in fact been dumped into a team of superheroes, encouraged to do some training, been put on a watchlist, etc, etc, etc, and now here you were, in an elevator with Tony Stark, Thor Odinson, and even that sadist Loki, the actual freaking god of mischief, from Asgard.

With S.H.I.E.LD having found out about your powers like they always seemed to do with ‘enhanced beings’, they figured the way to stop you from becoming one of those rabid, egotistical supervillains with a crack in their mental wellbeing, was to quickly introduce you to the team, into the Avengers, to the best people on the planet.

After all, the team was supposed to fill your head with delusions about ‘Being a good person’, and the common ‘Using your powers for good reason.’ Current fig, exhibit A; Battle of New York. The fight was finally finished, and now everyone was crammed into this too-tiny elevator, heading down from the highest possible level of Stark towers.

You were exhausted, drained, fatigued from the fight, you had used your three powers to fling falling rubble and debris off little kids, to burn up any chitauri monsters that scourged the streets, and heal anyone caught up in the madness, the most damaged person you had to heal, had sported a graphically broken leg, so graphic you could almost have seen the bone broken through their skin.

You were leaning against the elevator wall, donning a nasty cut on your forehead, but you were so sapped of energy, you couldn’t even heal that. Just a few meters away, stood Loki laufeyson, the evil, horrible creature, the one who had started this whole raving situation. You were very surprised to see Loki had long raven-coloured hair, and a thin, lanky frame, with a detached expression of playful, cheeky sadism.

He looked nothing like his brother Thor, muscular, blonde Thor. You had heard rumours Loki was actually adopted into the Asgardian family, the bad egg, the black sheep. In all respects, Loki was physically attractive, so much more handsome than you would have thought he would be.

Story goes, the battle had happened on a Sunday, you had been free from your college lessons, you had been available to help, to kick some chitauri ass. Now it was time to go home, everyone was slumped, and the tall, raven-haired Loki was presumably going to receive a HELL wrath from his father Odin, for his numerous Midgardian war crimes.

Thor put a comforting hand on your right shoulder, understanding just how exhausted you truly were, the older, way older brother who was protective and caring.

In some ways he was your favorite member of the team, kind and generous, not overly judgmental and vain, Tony was like that sometimes, and everyone knew Steve was a goody two-shoes, so Thor was kinda your favorite. You had joined the team when you were only eighteen, right out of high school, and now you were twenty.

Everyone you met thought you were still so young, young and vulnerable, that you had joined the team at such a young age, which was true. Tony had admitted, maybe that had been a mistake. Tony was your second favorite. But there was no point dropping off the team, you had also seen some truly horrific, grotesque things, there was no going back.

Like the battle today.

The sheer terror and cold evilness of Loki had been so shocking to watch, he had come so close to obliterating your home, New York, your city, where your family and friends lived, where so many dreams came true. With trying fight off his forces, your team had won, but you also had a bloody, painful wound, a pounding tiredness, and the screams of terror still ringing in your aching ears.

Reaching the bottom level, the elevator dinged and everyone filed out, Thor finally letting go off your shoulder. The two of you were close. He was so old in Asgardian terms, and you were so young in human.

You almost walked into Loki as he got out, long green cape and the intricate Asgardian outfit. Loki simply studied you for a second. He hadn’t seen much of you during the battle, you had been down in the streets, doing more civilian work than fighting, doing more civilized work than the Hulk, who had smashed Loki into the floor so hard he could still feel his brain rattling around in his skull.

Loki didn’t even know what your special talent was, if you had any. You had no Ironman suit, no enchanted strength, not even the trained combat of Natasha, so he didn’t even know why you were on the team, to him you looked like any normal Midgardian girl. After staring for a tad too long at your frightened face, he was forced to keep walking, and you breathed a sigh of relief, thankful he hadn’t graphically impaled your heart, like he had just done to Phil Coulson.

Poor Phil.

Phil had been a father figure.

Phil had loved you.

Thor and Tony marched on ahead, on a war path, but you hung back a little, not knowing what to do now. Being so young and all; no one was going to let you into official S.H.I.E.L.D business, stuff like cleaning up fallout, assessing damage, alerting who about this and this and what to do about this. You weren’t sure what to do, whether it was time for you to just go home.

Call it a day.

You watched Tony, a silver briefcase in hand, being approached by some official looking government guys, probably some senior S.H.I.E.LD citizens. Inwardly, quietly, you were thinking about your mom. She hadn’t wanted you to join the Avengers. She had sprouted warnings about the danger. Sorry, mom. But you had survived so far. and your college friends, surely they would have seeked shelter and rode out the ferocious battle, you would all have to talk about it during a sleepover.

You weren’t really paying attention to Tony until he collapsed, collapsed like he was having a heart attack. You watched in sudden shock, Tony had fallen to the ground, grasping at his arc-reactor heart, gaping like a fish out of water. People were immediately surrounding him, trying to help, and you couldn’t do much, so you simply stared, not Tony, not right after Phil Coulson.

You then frowned, watching as the briefcase he had been holding went flying across the floor, almost like it had moved by itself. Weird. The briefcase. It seemed to have moved. On it’s own accord. It had skid quite a distance on the floor. Tony was still struggling, with people still panicking, but you could only puzzle at the briefcase, wringing your hands, what the heck was going on?

You were about to impulsively leap forward and pick it up, when the Hulk burst through the nearest door, crying out with his angered dullness ‘NO! STAIRS!’. This knocked the briefcase back your way, dangerously close to the demon Loki, the evil one, the monster. You were going to extend your hand out, with your telekinesis, but Loki picked the Thing up, picked up the glowing blue cube.

The tesseract.

That was what had been inside.

You simply stared at Loki, and the look on your face must have been so toxic and venomous, something so accusing and angry in your eyes, because he then roughly gripped onto your left arm, almost twisting the limb out of your shoulder pocket. You felt your consciousness being yanked out of your skull, felt yourself losing sense, losing mind.

For a few minutes, you didn’t feel anything at all.

You couldn’t tell if you were dead, because in those minutes you didn’t have an active conscious state to process that actual idea.

But slowly, slowly, like you had just awoken from the shortest sleep of your life, you felt something. A sensation. Someone kicking you sharply. A pain. In your side. You slowly opened your eyes, un-aware, un-understanding, wondering now if you had just been killed, killed so quick you hadn’t even registered it.

When your eyes opened fully, you took in the sight of Loki Laufeyson standing over you, long black hair draping around the thin, angular shape of his face. You couldn’t even tell if this was real. It didn’t really seem like it. You groggily made to sit up, and then it all came back to you, in a sudden flash. Getting out of the elevator. Marching forward. The government guys. Tony struggling. The briefcase flying. Loki taking the tesseract. Loki seizing your left arm.

Death.

The sadist.

Oh, God.

He was going to kill you. He was. You were dead meat.

You scrambled back a bit, getting up, trying to get away from the murdering psycho.

“You. Mortal girl. I’ve taken you as a hostage. You’re never getting back to The Avengers. You’re with me now. You’ll never see them again.” He had a surprisingly nice voice, not too deep or too guttural. You stared pure poison at Loki, and then looked around, realizing you were in a dusty, plain desert somewhere.

Like a Sahara.

This was NOT New York.

“What? What just happened? It just felt like I died. I’m woozy.”

A few feet away, the tesseract was nestled in the sand, still faintly glowing. You doubled over and then almost vomited from the exhaustion, you felt so banged-up and nauseous, it was a miracle you were still alive, you could have collapsed on a hospital bed. You couldn’t even stand, really. Your resorted to sitting down in the sand, and then blinked, the giant cut in your forehead was bleeding again, the red blood was dripping straight down into your eyes.

“You took me as a hostage? Why? You lost, man. Seriously. What was the point?”

Loki paused, and then frowned to himself. “Silly questions. Aren’t you scared of me?” You groaned out loud, the pain in your forehead’s cut was getting worse, blinding your nerves. You placed your hand to the wound, focusing on your healing power. The pain slowly ebbed, and the bloody flesh started to sew itself back up, the wound healing back to normal.

Loki was surprised, but you still had crimson blood tracks all over your nose and cheeks, like something out of a horror movie.

“How did you do that!? Are you not human?”

“I am. I just have supernatural powers. It’s not too weird compared to- I mean, have you seen The Hulk??” You then realized how pissed off you were, had to get back, had to tell your mom you were ok, before she decided to just kill your herself. It was hard to aim your irritation at a god, though.

“Hey! Take me back to New York. I just want to go home. Seriously. I’m just. I’m so tired, man. And I have classes on Tuesday.”

You held out your hand, focusing on the tesseract. It flew over to you with your telekinesis, but it didn’t transport you to your bedroom, it simply glowed brighter. It was surprisingly hot in your hands. “Two powers!? Not Midgardian at all. The cube only works when I use it.” “Screw you. Hey! I just remembered…… You killed Phil Coulson. He was so nice to me.”

You stood up with a forced, painful effort, your vision swimming with stars, your body severely not ok. You took a deep breath, and the stars faded, but you still felt so rotten. You folded your arms at Loki, you wanted to kick him and call him a disgrace, but then he would probably slaughter you right where you trembled

You were scared of him. Of course you were.

You had to control your voice and everything, but right here in the sandy desert he seemed less dangerous, and you were sure he had lost his weapons, his daggers. “I am scared of you. Duh. Why wouldn’t I be? But I’m too tired to do anything about it. And you must feel pretty tired, too. Look, are you going to kill me or not? I’m hungry. Just kill me already if you’re going to.. Where even are we?”

He was silent for a second, a little bit of amusement coming to his facial features, not all the visible rage and terror. “You have powers. That’s why you’re on the team. You’re not entirely useless.” You wiped at your clothes, at your shredded jeans and your dirty Sam Raimi The Evil Dead t-shirt, wiping the sand off those filthy clothes you had fought in. You didn’t have a proper Avenger uniform.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Just let me go back. This is getting stupid.”

“Watch how you speak to me, girl.”

Frustrated now, you held out your palm, and a ball of flame erupted in the crease of your fingers. An orange, ferocious, roaring flame. Your most destructive power. Lethal. Loki actually took a step back, and you grinned, to everyone else it was a roaring fire, for you it only felt like a warm tickle. “You sick, disturbed creep. Trying to destroy New York. I saw little kids get hurt. People lying dead. Stay back or I will burn you. How am I ever going to be the same after this experience?”

Loki was silent for a second, maybe the briefest sense of regret softening his stance.

You could understand, if he had done everything like that, because something was so fundamentally awful in his life, you would understand that, his motives, but still. The things you had seen….

Loki, for a second, looked a little sad.

“I wasn’t trying to destroy your city, miss. I’m not a sick creep. I’m not a savage.” “Oh?” “I was trying to rule it. There’s a difference. I meant to rule your people. I didn’t want people getting killed. How would I rule everyone if everyone there died?” “Then why did it have to be so violent?”

He had no answer to that.

Loki suddenly turned, and you turned, noticing an orange, transparent door appearing out of literally no-where, in the sand.

People started to stream out of it, a woman dressed in something like a military outfit, but more futuristic, more sharp-edged. “Appears to be a standard sequence violation. Branch growing at a stable rate. Variants identified.” “I beg your pardon?” Letting the flame in your hand die, you shrunk back a little, there were four guys, like S.H.I.E.L.D soldiers but more hi-tech, un-like anything you had ever seen before, and it was obvious they were not here to be friendly.

This was getting crazy. All you wanted to do was go home. Have an ice-cream.

“On behalf of the Time Variance Authority, the two of you are under arrest. Hands up. You’re coming with, variants.”

You instantly put your hands up, even though you didn’t understand who these people were, or what the heck they wanted.

Loki cut you a look, a snarky, bitter look. Even with that, you still noticed how handsome he was. Much more your type than Thor, Thor or Steve.

“Put your hands down, girl. No one makes demands of us.” “What?! Are you crazy!? I’m doing what they want!” The female solider nodded at you, with something that looked a bit like pity. Pity for your age, probably. Everyone was always like, ‘Fighting for the world when you’re only 20!?’

“You shouldn’t have been dragged into this, child. Now you’re going down.” Loki barked out a harsh laugh. “I’m sorry, what is ‘This’? Who even are you people?”

“You’re under arrest variat. The girl understands. Get it through your head.. Last chance.”

You continued to hold your hands up, watching the wind blow through Loki’s long black hair. If there was to be a fight, there was no way Loki could win against these people. You were going to go with them, there was no other choice. Even though they looked emotionless. No pity. Just brutal establishment. You were so pissed.

If Loki hadn’t grabbed onto your arm, you wouldn’t even be in this stupid mess.

Loki placed his hands on his hips, blowing out one long exaggerated sigh. “It’s been a long day. And I think I’ve had my fair share of idiots in armoured suits telling me what to do. So actually, this is your last chance… Now get out of my way!” The solider lady struck out a baton or something, and hit Loki straight in the face, no mercy.

You watched in fascination as Loki seemed to slow down, in time, like a freeze flame, just pausing in mid-air, so strange. You noticed something on her shoulder: ‘B-15.’ Her name was a numbered letter. B-15 smiled at you, cruel smugness written on her lips. “Are you going to do that to me!!??” You questioned, holding your hands even higher.

“No, honey. You’re sensible. I just have to put this thing around your neck.” She had a neck bracelet, a tracking signal, which wrapped itself around Loki’s neck. He looked absolutely foolish. In any other situation, you would have laughed. “Um, hey, look, please, I’m not a part of this. He grabbed me on purpose. I didn’t want to be transported here. I didn’t ask for this. I just want to go home. I need to see my mom.”

For a second, B-15 looked genuinely sorry for you. She was dark-skinned, with a rounder form and a short haircut. “Sorry, honey. But you have to come with us. We deal with time, and you two just messed up the timeline. We can explain more soon. Nothing bad will happen, if you just do what I ask.” She tugged on your shoulder, and you let her put the bracelet around your neck, too weary to fight.

Loki had taken a hit to the ground, his long, lanky frame splayed out on the sand. Not the super intimating villain he was before. Still poisoned. But tired, just like you. The other time cops forced him up, and you smiled a little bit, they were out for his BLOOD. “Karma, Loki. Have some instant karma.”

“Midgardian, that is not funny. I did nothing to deserve this.” The fools forced Loki through the door. You blinked at B-15, and after Loki’s lead, she forced you through the orange door too, firmly holding onto your shoulder. When you emerged out of it, you were in an entirely different place. A strange, sterile, artificial, orange-coloured reception area, unlike any other reception area you had ever seen before.

You were standing right next to Loki, and he gazed down at you with his tall height, you gazed up, noticing just how striking the color of his eyes were. Again, he stared at you for a tad too long. He probably thought you were beautiful or some phony thing. You had been given that compliment a lot of times in the past.

Not like it really mattered now, though.

“Why did you have to seize me? We’re in this mess together now.”

He blinked.

Shuddered.

And then he tried to bolt.

He ran for it, but B-15 used a device in her hand to wind back time, so Loki was forced right back into position, right next to you. You laughed, Loki wasn’t going to get out of this situation anytime soon. You weren’t, either. But they were treating Loki like crap. The soldiers marched Loki up to the receptionist, working at an orange desk.

He tried to bolt and bolt and bolt, but every time he did, she just kept rewinding the device.

It was a hopeless, doomed effort.

She placed the tesseract down, and there was confusion on the worker’s face. “Log this as evidence.” “Can you at least tell me what it is??” “It’s the tesseract!” “Sounds dumb!” You and Loki were marched over to a set of doors, Loki in all his glorious frustration, had seen enough. “I’m dangerous. You’re a fool. Look, you cross me, the God of mischief, and there are deadly consequences.”

“Hmm… We’ll see.”

B-15 pushed Loki into the door, whatever it was, and it closed, trapping him inside. You looked around the orange area in sheer horror, holding up your hands so high into the air. B-15 was nicer with you, as you tried to process just what the actual fuck was going on. So, they were time police. You and Loki had done something to fuck up time. Him stealing the tesseract? What would happen now?

They couldn’t just alter time or anything to re-put the tesseract into Tony’s briefcase.

Would they, let you do time travel?

And most importantly, could you get finally something to eat?

“Um, so I guess the timeline didn’t like Loki taking the tesseract.” B-15 nodded, relived you weren’t raging and fighting. “Yes. He was just supposed to get shoved into a cell on Asgard. Mistakes like that cause a butterfly effect on the scared timeline.” “And what was I supposed to do?” She didn’t answer, either because she didn’t know, or she didn’t want you to know.

“Are you guys going to delete us from existence now?”

“Loki? Yes. It would a pleasure to prune him. You, not so much. I’ll try help your case. You’re the only sane variant I’ve met with some sense. You’re, it doesn’t seem right that you deserve this.” The doors opened, and you knew you were supposed to go inside. “Um, what’s this?” “Just some standard time testing.”

“What?”

She waved goodbye.

You realized you were now in a little room with a robot, and even worse, this robot had a smiling face. It held out one arm, and seemed to aim something at you that de-materialized your filthy, bloodied clothing, you were appalled, seeing yourself stark naked. You then dropped through the floor, straight through the floor, and landed in-front of an overweight man at a desk, with a cat.

You realized you were in new clothes now, a prison jumpsuit, brown, ugly, hideous, but clean and not caked with blood and grime. There was a stack of papers on the desk. “Please sign to verify this is everything you have ever said.” The stack wasn’t too tall. That made you feel a little sad. When it came to it, you liked being more reserved and silent.

You frowned, but picked up the pen, signing a flowery ‘Y/N Y/L/N’ on the top paper.

The floor suddenly dropped again, and you found yourself in-front of an airport security scanner machine, with a dwarfed man wauting for you, holding a clipboard. The situation as weird. It almost seemed like a fever dream. Time cops existed. Time travel existed. There was a proper flow of time for all events in your crazy universe.

You had fucked it up.

And now, you were in time jail.

“Please to your knowledge confirm that you are not a robot, that you are a living sentient being who posses what many different cultures and beliefs would consider a living soul.” “Um, yes, I’m a human. I have feelings. I have a soul.” “Please move along, miss.” You paused in the scanner, and it flashed brightly, presumably scanning your soul.

The thought was enough to make you feel violated.

It was just too strange.

You wondered how you would explain any of this to your college friends. They felt like a world away already. On a different planet. The man recovered a flash card from the scanner, a polaroid photo, a thingy, a thing you couldn’t really describe, but instead of a picture, moving colours purple and blue. “What’s that!?” “Your temporal aura.”

“A what?”

You were almost certain Loki had asked the same question to the man minutes before. But this time, he answered for you. “It’s what they use to detect if you have alternate versions of yourself living in the sacred timeline. The colour’s usually represent what your soul is like. As a person. Your soul is, purple and blue.”

“What do you mean, alternate versions? More than one version of me?”

“Yes. Different realties, miss. I can’t explain much. But the other versions of you are very nice. So I’ve been told before by my colleagues. Nice variants. Only one evil one. That usually doesn’t happen a lot.” “The guy before? Loki? The man?” “Bad variants. Very bad.” You were silent for a second, not knowing what to say.

You had a sudden hysterical, obsessive shower thought. “Have you ever had time variants of U.S presidents? They do stuff that alters time. You know. Leaders of the free world. Wait. Do you know what the means?” “Well, yes. We had quite a lot of JFK. And FDR.”. “JFK if he didn’t get assassinated!? FDR if he didn’t get polio???”

“I can’t explain anymore miss, please move along.”

The floor dropped once more.

This final room had nothing, so the doors immediately opened. You stepped out, and there was Loki. Right in front of you. Tall, handsome, lanky Loki.

It was an area with lines arranged to pass through airport security, but it was completely empty except for a younger kid, basically a teenager, and a few soldiers, and some accountant guys working at the back. You approached Loki, it looked like he was waiting for you. In all honesty, now you wanted to cry.

You were tired. Sad. Alone. Far from home.

Loki stared at you, the murderous, insane, raving, psychopathic poisoned, revengeful sicko who had just tried to take over New York. “Y/N. that’s your name, right?” “FUCK you for dragging me into this mess, Loki. I have the right to be so pissed off right now. None of this was supposed to happen.” But that was all the anger you had left in your system. Your shoulders slumped, you couldn’t feel angry anymore. Just sad.

“How old are you? You look awfully young.”

“I’m twenty.”

“They’re about to kill a child.”

“Haha. Very funny.” You looked around, thinking about what the guy had just told you. It was a miraculous thought. Theses time cops made dibs on anyone who messed up. Anyone. And there had been forty-four presidents so far. “They had US presidents in this place. They had FDR in here! Wow. I wonder what he did to mess up. Could have crashed the whole country. Hoh! They had a version of him who was republican.. No. FDR gone way wrong. Gone to the Axis powers. Holy shi.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“I wonder if they ever had Woodrow Wilson. God. I fucking hate Woodrow Wilson. I hope they deleted all versions of him. He was a racist asshat. I’m going to teach you about US presidents. I know a lot.”

“I can’t believe those fools let you on the team.”

“What? The Avengers? They were my friends.” “You were just a child on the team. You were too young to be fighting for, whatever. You were just a baby. You were only twenty. Thor’s over 1000 years old, and Tony must be about forty.” “I’ll scare you even further. I joined when I was only eighteen.”

“How did Tony Stark think that was good a idea? What would your parents think if you had died? What would he say to them? Sorry your little girl got killed?”

You chortled.

“My dad doesn’t give two shits about me. And I comforted my mom a lot, so we worked through It together.” “Take your tickets.” You took a ticket from the barricade, and started through the processing lines, Loki right behind you. You were downtrodden now, he could see every ounce of the snarky fight had left your body.

No more anger left for him.

“Are you ok? We’re in this thing together now, you have to toughen up.” You were so shocked by the question, you openly gaped at him. “Are you serious? Why would I be ok right now? They expected me to burn some Chitauri with my fire, I had to heal people with the most horrible injuries, I had to move the mess of buildings around with my telekinesis. Phil’s dead. My replacement dad. His blood splattered. I got kidnapped by you for no reason. Forced into this jumpsuit. And now they might delete us from existence. If they had the power to take US presidents away, where you do you think that leaves us? How is any of this what you would consider ok?”

The room was so un-nerving, with the lights hanging from the ceiling like peering eyes, silence except for you and Loki talking, nothing else. And there was no else but that one kid. Not a lot of people went through this. No one to help. No family. Friends. No Thor to give you advice. Loki gave you a look of amused pity, and you scoffed silently, for a second you had this brutally twisted hope that they just deleted him already, because he was a plain horror to be around.

“Y/N, you’re falling apart. It is hilarious to watch.”

You simply ignored him, walking through the lines. With your silence he was left to his own thoughts, and he must have been feeling pretty disturbed like you, and perhaps seven more, because he suddenly cried out ‘This is a mistake! We shouldn’t be here!’. You knew he excepted you to retort with something sarcastic, but you didn’t have it in you anymore.

You were just a sad creature trapped in a sad life.

“Y/N, say something.”

The way he said this.

You snapped.

You stared at a monster and the only thing he stared back at you with was pity.

“Fuck you, Loki. I said something. And it’s fuck you. Fuck. You. I thought you were a sadist. A psychopath. You could have butchered me. You killed people for no reason. Why? Why? I’m not letting you help me with this until you apologise, or show some sympathy, or tell me why. You murdered Phil Coulson. They said you killed eighty people in two days. What do you want? What do you want me to say? What do I say to a murderer and terrorist? What do I have to do for you? What would make you happy? You sad, sick disaster. You tried to throw Tony off the tower. If he hadn’t had the suit on, he would smashed into pieces. You would have done the same to me if I had been in your way. Like, I just don’t understand. So here it is good sir, delivered to you on a shiny silver platter: For once in your cursed, monstrous life, do a good thing and leave me the EVER LOVING ABSOULTE FUCK alone.”

A brief silence.

Loki Laufeyson would not be spoken to like this.

1000 years worth of rage and hurt.

Anger went gruesomely feral across his handsome facial features.

“You’re pathetic, Y/N. You're fucking pathetic. Tony forced you into the team so young and now you’ve lost all your strength. You’re just a child. You have no idea who you’re messing with. I’m a God. A God. You’re nothing. You’re a weak mortal who can’t even begin to comprehend what I was trying to achieve. I’ve seen worlds you will never know about. You’re right. I could have killed you. I could have snapped your neck into half. But I didn’t. I didn't because i thought you were beautiful. No one has ever seemed as beautiful to me. But you’ve done nothing but show me disrespect for it. You have to recognize your superiors. You're trash. You’re dirt compared to me. dirt. A human number. A nothing. Just another person that could have died if you didn't have your powers. There is a reason why I had to invade New York, I had to because of the malevolent titan, but if you keep treating me like this, I WILL NEVER, EVER, EVER TELL YOU WHY. ARE YOU ON MY SIDE OR NOT? OR NOT?! JUST LEAVE ME HERE TO THE SAVAGE THOUGHTS OF GIVING UP! YOU'RE THE ONLY PERSON WHO HAS EVER AGREED TO SPEAK WITH ME FOR AT LEAST ONE MINUTE WITHOUT OVERWHEMLING DISGUST IN YOUR EYES!”

You couldn’t help it. A tear escaped your eye, then two, then three.

All you had wanted to do was your best, and he was a God, yelling at you, just some in-significant mortal girl. You were tired, hungry, scared, isolated, away from your friends, your head ringing with the battle that had just finished, you had stepped up and kicked some ass, but you had never asked for any of this, never asked for your powers.

Some of the graphic things you had seen…………..

Nick had given you Phil’s fanboy trading cards of Captain America.

They had been doused in his blood.

Doused.

Loki instantly saw the tears, and he softened, but only a little bit. You sat down on the ground, collapsed, wanting to curl yourself into a ball, just crying because you somehow these freaking times cop would never let you see your mom again, or your friends, of your family, or New York, or the stupid times you had to get up for college, or Tony ruffling your hair with a wink, or Natasha constantly asking if you had a boyfriend, or Steve sometimes taking you out to grab some dinner, or the silly, problematic way you used to have a picture of F.D.R on your wall, back when you had thought he was a good person, back before the Japanese interment camps and the racism against the Jewish people and all the other horrors, he could have the best, better than Abraham, but he went and did that.

You covered your head and your face, but continued to cry, embarrassed because the soldiers and the kid and Loki were all watching you.

You just sat.

Sat there and cried.

You could hear Loki walk over to you, and he tapped at your shoulder with his shoe, tap tap tap, you could feel him kicking you lightly in the arm.

“Y/N. Shush. Shush. Stop crying, girl. Ok. Ok. Ok. I shouldn’t have screamed at you like that. I'm- I didn't mean that. I didn't mean it. Y/N. Y/N. Don’t you think I’ve been through horrible things as well? Don’t you think I know just how bad my own life is? Don’t you think I’ve also seen terrible things? We’re both angry and scared and alone. We have to figure out how to get out of here. Together. I’ll get you out of here. We’ll get out of this place. But you have to trust me. I don’t need this sadness from you. We have to work together. Put the past behind us. We've been through horrors. No more horrors for each other.”

“They can just kill me. I don’t care anymore. I’m not the same now. I’m over this. I have nothing to live for in this place. I want to die.”

Something weird to Loki’s voice.

“No. NO. NO YOU DON’T. You don’t say things like that. You have powers. Act like it. Toughen up. Know your worth. Mortals don’t even have powers, but you do. We don’t think like that. We don’t give in to our feelings. If we feel like that, we shove it down deep. Don’t be ridiculous. Think like that again, and I will be even more mad than I am right now. It's too real. Now shush. Odin know I've cried before. Y/N. I'm sorry.”

To silence you and Loki’s raised emotional voices, a different voice, with a southern twang. You wanted to look who was it, but you didn’t, because then Loki would see your disgusting, blood-tracked, tear-tracked cheeks. You didn’t look, just listened. “Hey there, I’m miss minutes. I know what you’re thinking. You’re probably saying this is a mistake, is shouldn’t be here.”

Loki went silent for a bit, listening to the voice talking, which sounded slightly strange in a way, like it wasn’t actually a person.

You weren’t even listening properly, but the voice started on about the first multiverse war, the three time keepers, the sacred timeline, varying off the path the time keepers made for you, which meant becoming a variant, a variant now with no place on the timeline, a variant with time crimes that had to await a trial.

You weren’t really listening.

You still had the picture of FDR.

It was from when you had to do some research about him for a paper. You had found out he was a good person. Great, even. A hero. Born in New York. Just like you. Beating all the demons and the polio and The Great Depression and then World War Two, and the strain of those things and the high blood pressure and people shitting on him and God knows what else. Only this time without any powers. Who better to look up to? You had put him on the wall. Next to all the photos of your friends and memories and the sunset and art and all that crazy crap.

But then you had found about all the horrific stuff.

It made him less of a great person in your mind, but you could still be like him, right? A good person, only without all the horrific mistakes and screw ups, this time, even better. But you weren’t a great person. You were just a mistake. Your whole entire life was a mistake. And now, it was getting deleted. Like a typo on a document.

I've failed you. I haven't done enough. I've been weak and I haven't been there for people when they needed me most. Because of what? My own sadness? My own guilt? About what? Yes, i confess to all of that, my hero. But enough. Please don't look any further. I confess. But enough. No more.

Loki was saying something.

You closed your eyes.

You felt something, him placing his hands on your shivering arms. He clasped onto your wrists tightly, his hands long and thin. “Y/N.” You said nothing to this. “Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes slowly, and looked at the evil one. “I’m genuinely sorry. And I’ve never been sorry before. Never. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, ok? Say it. Say Loki feels actually sorry. because it’s true. Say it. it's true to the Gods.”

“Loki, you feel actually sorry.” You whispered, voice barley even there.

“I think we’re both damaged and upset and broken. And we shouldn’t take that out on each other. We need to work together. You’re right. I’m a villain. I’m a nightmare person and I admit it. I was tortured, and possessed, and had my mind twisted by a monster so badly, it got splinted into fragments. I would explain more about this, but it would put your safety in jeopardy. Just know that we’re working together now, ok? Ok? Ok? Ok?”

“Ok. Ok.”

“And I will NEVER hurt you now. I won’t kill you and I won’t even try to yell at you. And knowing you now, I won’t even try to backstab you. I won’t.” “I don’t believe that.” “I know. I have to earn your trust first. You didn’t deserve any of this. And I am so fucking sorry. You have no idea. I had no idea you were in so much pain. I had no idea about your struggle.”

You took a deep, shaky breath.

An apology was always good. And this one sounded genuine.

“I’m sorry, too. You probably have a messed up reason why you did everything, some reason, some backstory. I can never know what someone else is going through, Loki. I have no idea what you’ve been through. So sorry. I am so, so sorry.” “Ok. Ok. truce. Truce between us? We’re in a new place. A new beginning. I don’t think this place is even on earth.”

“Ok. Truce. Truce.”

“I’ll probably have times when I get mad and beyond upset at you. And I’ll shout. And you’ll shout back. But we’re on this truce now. i'm so sorry for what I just said. I am. “Ok. Truce.” “Truce. But remember, I’m still a God, and you’re just a mortal. But truce. Truce.” You smiled a little. He smiled back, but it was so sad, and for a second you could swear there was tears in those bright Asgardian eyes.

You stood up with an effort, and his tall frame leaned over you, tall and lean and lanky.

You looked up at the TV screen, and for a moment swore that an orange clock was staring right at you with wide, enormous eyes. It had to have just been a recorded video. A video of that clock pretending to talk. But it was staring at you, right at you, with a human like expression of shock. You stared back, not knowing what to say. A hallucination. It had to be a hallucination. Then it was gone. “Ok. You have to tell me, what’s an FDR?” You were about to explain, when a voice cut through the silence.

“What are you looking at me like that for, bucket head? Why you pointing that thing at me?” The kid at the front of the line was getting mad, raising his voice. The time cop was demanding for his ticket, but the boy hadn’t taken one. The cop was fed up, because he pulled out a baton, and when it met the boy’s shoulder, he was disengrated into nothing, with a horrible, gruesome, metallic scream.

A scream that seemed to go on forever.

You and Loki stared at each other in fright, the sound was just God-awful. “Got your ticket, Y/N?” “Got my ticket. Got your ticket, Loki?” “Got it. Ok. Let’s go. No rages. No emotion. We'll end up running this place. Again, I'm sorry. We're in this together.” “Ok. Together. I'm sorry too. Truce. As one. No more fighting.”

And the two of you went into the unknown.

[perfectfeelings]

Today I’ll be my own hero… I promise you today…Today, I will begin to save me.

Elizabeth Tapp

[thoughtkick]

Someday you’re gonna look back on this moment of your life as such a sweet time of grieving. You’ll see that you were in mourning and your heart was broken, but your life was changing.

Elizabeth Gilbert

[firawren]

Underrated/overlooked bit in Pride and Prejudice: In chapter 45, Elizabeth and her aunt have dropped by Pemberley to pay their respects to Miss Darcy, unbeknownst to Mr. Darcy, who's off fishing with Elizabeth's uncle and a few other dudes. But then Darcy finds out about the ladies' social call and deserts his dudes to hurry back to the house and barge in on the fancy lady tea time, all so he can talk to Elizabeth. He is not at all playing it cool and it's so funny and adorable and I love it!

Like, I'm imagining Uncle Gardiner just casually saying "I hope my wife and niece are having a nice time hanging out with your sister," and Darcy's like "Wait a second—are you saying Elizabeth—I mean Miss Bennet—is in my house right now?!". Mr. Gardiner tries to say "Well, probably, I mean, I don't know if they actually came, but they were planning on it...", but Darcy has already dropped his fishing pole and is sprinting back toward the house 😂

[ladyrosen]

Sugar mommy || E.Olsen

Pairing : Sugar!mommy Elizabeth Olsen x y/n

Summary : Y/n was hanging out with their friends late Friday night, they may have got a little too tipsy and was convinced to sign up for a sugar mommies website...

Warning : Smut (at the end) They/them pronouns, AFAB!reader ,Top!Lizzie , Bottom!Reader, Blow!Job , dick!riding , Pet!names, Alcohol. Legal!age-gap

Masterlist

My Server

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It's been one hell of a week, y/n works hard in their classes while attending NYU, they had to without good grades there was really no point of all of this money and effort they worked so hard for, y/n was far from rich and had to work a lot harder than others to get where they are, yet after a long week of work y/n had no problem going out to relax with some friends.

It's now Friday night, y/n was slipping into a cute comfy outfit, they had received a text from one of the closest friends about an hour ago telling them the plans, which to be honest, it was just a normal Friday University kid night, they didn't plan on clubbing or going out, more so a hangout.

Y/n headed out their door, shutting off the lights in their tiny New York apartment before heading to the dorms on campus to meet up with their friend group.

"Hey guys" y/n made their presence known barging into their friends dorm being met with a few of their friends already there getting a movie ready along with some drinks, most likely for another drinking game.

"Hey y/n" Zack yelled from the living space as he sat down the drinks, they met during and English lecture earlier this year, and since then they just have gotten closer, Zack is the kind of friend that fits the "gay best friend" stereotype, but he rolls with it.

"So movie and drinking game again?" Y/n asked knowingly getting a "of course" from Zack as the others piled into the living space, everyone took their spots, obviously, the couples in the group got "ohhh and Eww" from the others as they tried acting cute, while the single friends all got comfortable on their own.

"so we are going to watch, a stupidly, cheesy romance movie, so if you cringe you take a shot, if you laugh you take a shot, if there's a dramatic, love scene, we all take a shot, and if you laugh you take two shots" Zack explained knowing the last one was completely targeted at Y/n, as y/n could laugh at anything. Plus everyone enjoyed tipsy y/n, even y/n enjoyed themself tipsy.

As the movie went on around 3/4 of the way threw they all stopped watching, more so getting into deep conversations with each other, yet what made it better was they were all tipsy and have had a bit to much to drink.

"Y/n of your so sick of working at that cafe why don't you get like a sugar mommy" Zack blurted out more so as a joke, not expecting y/n to give any thought about it.

"You think they have an app for that?" Y/n responded, thinking aloud before checking their phones App Store.

"Fuck- they do"

With that y/n still tipsy as ever downloaded the app, showing it to the group, causing an uprise in laughter from their friends at this silly behavior, but it didn't stop them. Going threw the click signing up process, and creating a profile with some of their better photos they laughed at themself scrolling on the app, showing profiles to their friends, absolutely oblivious to the fact that they accidentally clicked accept on somebody's profile...

The group started to clear out yet y/n stayed the night, being the only one who didn't live in that dorm building already. They chose to spend the night on Zack's couch, which Zack obviously didn't mind as his roommate was out of town.

(The next day)

Waking up y/n was going straight for the pain killers, the drinks they had last night are definitely hitting them this morning.

Looking on their phone y/n noticed a sticky note, placed on top of it with a message from Zack saying they had went out to meet with a family member for brunch.

Going with it, and moving on y/n grabbed their phone seeing a notification from a sugar mommy's app...that's when last nights events came flooding back.

"What the fuck" y/n butter to them self as they open the app to see a notification and a message from someone named Lizzie, their profile is a bit more private than others, but it was still verified and didn't seem extremely sketchy. It was a simple greeting which y/n made the decision to respond with their own greeting back.

The conversation continued between the two of them, and they agreed to meet at a nearby coffeehouse downtown, it was public, so y/n definitely felt safer with the idea yet they definitely need to head back to their apartment and get ready, I mean, if you're going to meet a sugar mommy you should at least look nice.

Getting dressed, and doing their hair wad when nerves were starting to get to y/n thinking about what the worst that could happened, what came to their mind wasn't about meeting a stranger. It was the idea of rejection. Trying to shake off those ideas y/n slipped on some cute dunks which completely match their outfit before heading towards the coffeehouse in town. Not before sending Zack a sarcastic goodbye message like something awful was about to happen.

Walking into the coffeehouse y/n was a bit early sitting down at a table more secluded in the corner scrolling on their phone for a few moments, it wasn't until a women about 5'8 dirty blonde hair sat down across from them did they look up.

"You must be y/n" The women y/n was meeting with stated, getting a nod from the younger one.

"You must be Lizzie" y/n responded feeling shy now by the older women's appearance, she was dressed nice and definitely held herself strong and confidently.

"Yes I am darling, so tell me about yourself" she asked

"Well I'm a student at NYU, I'm single and I'm a hard worker" y/n responded, starting to feel like this is more of an interview than anything.

"I like that, obviously we're here for a reason, I like having a sugar baby, I like having someone I can spoil and make my own" Lizzie got straight to the point, definitely catching y/n off guard for a moment as they regain their thoughts.

"Oh..yes I'm a college student and honestly I signed up for this because me and my friends were being stupid and made jokes but when I saw your profile, I honestly was deeply interested and now we're here" y/n rambled out getting a laugh from the other person there with them.

"Y/n, I'd like to really get to know you, along with helping you out. Your profile, and your personality right now, match exactly what I'm looking for" Lizzie explains as she pulled a contract out from her purse.

"Due to my line of work we have a privacy contract, of course I'll let you read it over, but y/n I really like you, and really hope you will agree to be my sugar baby" Lizzie explained letting y/n have the contract read over.

"My personal number is on the contract. Feel free to message me whenever you'd like or if you need anything, I'd really like to get closer with you" Lizzie said as a goodbye, not leaving room for y/n to say much, as she got up leaving the information with the younger girl.

Y/n packed up their items and took the contract back to their dorm, sitting down on their bed going over it, honestly they were ready to sign they had nothing to lose, but they wanted to have some fun first, texting Lizzie using the number on contract.

"I've read the contract, I'm wondering what you really want with me" y/n was feeling blood sending this message setting their phone down next to them, not expecting Lizzie to answer so fast.

"I won't someone to be mine, we'd be exclusive in a semi-romantic relationship, do you understand? Was the older women's reply. It was straightforward which was becoming common for the strange women.

Y/n wasn't fully sure what they were signing up for, but that picked up a pen and signed the contract sending a photo of it to Lizzie, more so excited to see if the women would give y/n the satisfaction of a reaction.

"So eager are you" was all Elizabeth responded with.

"Only for you" y/n flirted back getting a demanding message back from Elizabeth, asking for the younger ones cash app, sending y/n some pocket money, well $10,000....

The amount caused a Yelp from y/n, they've never received that much money. Y/n knew they were signing up to be a sugar baby, but they didn't expect it to come this soon.

Y/n texted a thank you to Lizzie getting a "you can pay me back" and a winking emoji from the other one, it took a moment for y/n to realize what Lizzie meant, sending a dumb emoji to reply.

Y/n honestly didn't realize how much they wanted this women, her validation was new for y/n. Which it was odd yet it was now 8pm and y/n sent the message to Lizzie

"Come over" the short message was enough for Lizzie to ask for the address having her personal driver take the women to y/n's off campus student apartment. It was much smaller then Lizzie was used to, but Lizzie wanted to see this girl, she was falling for this young college student ready to make y/n her own.

Waking into the apartment, y/n opened the door for Lizzie, yet she was right on it, Lizzie flipped y/n around pinning them to their own door.

"Did you mean it, you signed the contract?" Lizzie asked, and when she got a nod from y/n Lizzie went straight to kissing the younger one. Holding y/n in the kiss till they both were gasping for air.

"I've wanted you sense I saw your profile baby" Lizzie said almost in a whisper to y/n, pulling y/n to the couch in the center of the living space, sitting down both of them were now facing each other.

"Y/n im not sure if you know who I am, I want you I really do, and now you've signed the privacy contract, I want us to continue a sugar mommy relationship, do you understand that, I need your consent and your cooperation" Lizzie said being completely serious with y/n

"Lizzie, I don't care about all that, I want you, your personality is enough to have anyone on their knees for you oh my and don't get me started on that a-" y/n was cut off by lizzie attacking their lips pushing them onto their back now laying on the sofa. Lizzie moved down keeping her control as she left marks on y/n's neck, Lizzie's hands moved under y/n's shirt making sure to check if everything was alright was y/n. Seeing y/n quickly removing her clothes caused Lizzie to smile, seeing y/n all submissive and ready for her was definitely a turn on.

"Y/n im here to help you, in more then just financial ways, I'm gonna help you let go is that okay honey" Lizzie asked bringing her hand up to cup y/n's cheek rubbing her thumb on their face a way of reassurance

Lizzie sat down pulling y/n on top of her as y/n sat down they felt the bulge under Lizzie's nice pants, cause a light whine to fall from y/n's lips.

"Do you think you could take mommy's cock" lizzie asked softly in y/n's ear watching as y/n responded with rapid nods, being ever so eager for the older women.

Lizzie let her hands roam over y/n stripped body reaching in between her folds collecting the younger girls juices, realizing how needy y/n really was. Lizzie patted y/n's thigh to prompt them to stand up, as the women took her turn stripping down to only her lacy bra and the strap she was packing.

"Come here baby" Lizzie guided y/n to slowly sit down on her decent sized cock, letting the smaller one adjust to the size.

"Look at you so good for me, why don't you give me a show princess" Lizzie praised prompting y/n to ride her cock, and that just what y/n did slowly the college student rose up before pushing themself back down on the fake dick, causing a high pitched moan to slip from their lips. Lizzie started to reach out putting her hands on y/n's hip as she met their trust half way, y/n was screaming out moans as the trust got harder, the sound of sex filled the room, lizzie in attempt to bring y/n closer to their climax she started to suck on the younger ones sweet spot, y/n's reaction made Lizzie moan as y/n jolted backing the other part of the strap to hit Lizzie's clit just right now giving the older women more  pleasure.

"Fuck y/n you're doing so good for me, you can let go" Lizzie encouraged as she watched y/n getting closer, their bounces we're getting more sloppy and their moans were more squeaky and like that Y/n had reached their orgasm, as they came hard around Lizzie's cock.

"I-I made a mess" Was the firsts thing y/n pointed out, which gave the older women an idea.

"Clean it up then" lizzie said pulling y/n slowly from the cock as y/n was sensitive still from their orgasm, not giving y/n much time as She pushed them down to their knees in front of herself, wrapping her hand into y/n's now messy hair pushing their mouth down on the cock which was still laced in y/n's cum, watching y/n's head bob on the dick was everything to Lizzie, as the pushes rubbed on her own clit making her moan loudly.

The older women now chasing her own climax was pushing y/n down roughly, watching as tears fell from y/n's face, lizzie reached down with her free hand to pull on y/n's tits a bit, just to pull a vibrating moan from the younger one, yet as y/n continued Lizzie kept getting closer finally snapping as she came herself with a loud groan.

After a moment, lizzie released her hold on y/n standing up to discard the strap she was wearing before laying back on the sofa, pulling y/n into her lap keeping the college student close to her.

"I think this arrangement will work out just fine" Lizzie muttered as she watched y/n slowly drifting off.

....PART TWO?

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A/N - it seems the reader doesn't really know who Lizzie is yet, i'm quite excited to take the story into more depth, with that I have a discord server if any of you guys enjoy the same things I do I'd love to talk about it (15+ please) anyway enjoy my 12am writing.

[honey-sweet-hiraeth]

The Hallway

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

A/n: Whaaaat the fuck people. I started writing this based on Lizzie's Oscars look. It was gonna be a cute little not quiet enemies to lovers fic. Right? Right??? No! I just started writing having no clue what was gonna happen and now there's human trafficking??? And mentions of R going through human trafficking?? And trauma?? And Wanda being fucking adorable. I'm so confused. I don't know how we got here. But yeah the dress Wanda wears on the mission is the one from the Oscars look. Send help. Have fun. What did I even write?

P. S. I was writing this all night what is sleep. My noggin is tired.

Warnings: Human Trafficking (Wanda and Yn are saving people), Talks about Yn going through Human trafficking, Author doesn't know what they're doing and it shows, nightmares (mentioned), Wanda is cute as fuck, Wanda is a tease. (A cute tease)

Fluff?? Hurt Comfort??? I dunno.

Not proofread.

"I don't hate you, you know." Your voice must've startled her, because Wanda turned a bit too quickly with her hand over her heart.

You were preparing to go on a mission together. The first time you'd ever gone on a mission alone with Wanda. She tended to avoid being teamed up with you if she could.

You figured she just didn't like you. It never really bothered you too much. Maybe a little.

Until you heard her fighting so hard against a mission with you, and only you. She pleaded with Steve in front of all of the other Avengers. Natasha snickered in her corner seat and you wondered what was so funny?

You were frankly a bit offended that Wanda would rather pretend to date 'anyone else', for the mission. You could be a great fake partner! The best even. Nonetheless Wanda wanted nothing more than to avoid being around you. Going so far as to offer to go with Sam or, god forbid, Vision.

You were the best undercover agent they had aside from Natasha. Who would've been coming with you if she weren't so busy.

Wanda stared at you blankly for a moment. Tilting her head.

"Good to know." She nodded, going back to adjusting her dress. It didn't sound like she believed you.

"I spoke with Nat." You continued. "I asked why she would suggest that you came with me for this. When she knew you hated my guts."

Wanda turned to you with her eyebrows raised. You stepped forward and fixed the tangled tassels around her neck as you spoke.

"She laughed at me." You smoothed the front of her hair, spraying a bit of extra hairspray in it. "She told me you thought I hated you. That you thought I hadn't forgiven you for the Ultron situation."

Wanda winced, and sighed sharply. "We don't need to talk about this."

"We- we can though." You frowned and Wanda shook her head.

"Not right now. We have a job to do." She walked past you and you caught a breath of her perfume, it was floral and spicy. You liked it.

You shook yourself free from your thoughts and followed behind her, out the door of the safe house where your clothing and accessories were set out for the two of you, and to the car waiting out front.

The ride was quiet. You stole glances at Wanda as she stared out the window, her jawline fully on display with her hair pulled into a sleek updo. Wanda was pretty, in that unassuming way most people didn't notice until she was fully dressed up.

You noticed during battle. From the way she locked her jaw and sent enemies flying, to the way she would meet your eyes with fire in hers and you just knew the adrenaline pumping through her veins was similar to yours.

You'd never actually seen her on a mission outside of something confrontational. You knew nothing of her undercover skills or her ability to blend in and go with the flow while also keeping her mind on the objective.

So you were pleasantly surprised when you entered the target's party and she easily slipped her hand in yours. You glanced at her and she smiled fondly at you, leaning closer and setting her chin on your shoulder.

She was close enough to kiss.

"We'll make our way around the room and mingle for a bit, then we can sneak off, but not before we speak to Damien." Her accent was soft and alluring. If it weren't for her actively speaking about the mission, her breath against your cheek would've made you forget you were even on one.

Maybe this was the real reason you never worked jobs with Wanda. She was very, very distracting.

You smiled, chuckling a little as two elderly men walked by, eying you with judgment. They were just jealous, you decided. You did happen to have the most beautiful woman at the event right on your arm.

"Okay darling. Whatever you say." You led her further into the group of socialites and powerful figures of the underground. "You just let me know when you're ready to run off."

Wanda held her head high as you walked through the crowd. You really did look like a powerful couple. People you didn't know in the slightest sent you nods and smiles as you passed. They regarded you with respect, even though they knew nothing about you.

After all you were mysterious guests, dressed in expensive designer clothing and walking as if you owned the place. As far as they knew you did own the place.

It took only a few minutes before Damien Gavroche, the true owner of the establishment and one of the men you needed to take down, approached you.

"My my you're a stunning couple aren't you?" He smiled impishly at you. Nausea nearly overtook you just looking at him. You were there because he was trafficking young girls. You hated people like him with all you had.

Wanda's grip tightened on your hand. She was the only Avenger who knew why people like Gavroche truly disgusted you. You had experience with them, and they genuinely made you afraid.

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat and smiled brightly at the short, greasy looking man.

"Thank you," you shook his hand. "It's truly all my darling though. If I had been on my own for this I'd have no clue what to wear."

You kissed Wanda's head and she hummed, leaning into you.

"The thing is. I don't remember adding your names to the list?" It was stated as a question but you knew what he meant. 'How did you get in?'

"That's odd," you furrowed your brows. "We only had to present these invitations at the door."

That was the truth, you mused as you handed the slips of paper to him. You really hated lying. It just worked better when you didn't have to do it very much.

Damien looked at the invites for a moment then smiled, handing them back to you.

"My mistake" He apologized, slipping his arm around Wanda's waist to lead you both across the room. You felt Wanda tense beside you. His hand was nearly on her ass. You grabbed his wrist and moved it so his hand rested higher on her back.

Damien scowled at you as you did so. You sent him a warning glare back. You hoped he caught the meaning of your actions. 'Don't touch what isn't yours'

Not that you were actually possessive over Wanda. You were just playing your part, and maybe feeling a bit protective of your teammate.

Wanda leaned further into you now that your arm was draped across her shoulders. You let your thumb graze along her exposed skin. An attempt at comforting her and looking like you were truly a couple, you told yourself. Not at all because Wanda's skin was soft and you couldn't get enough of the feeling.

Before you knew it, you and Wanda were in a secluded VIP section. You recognized some of New York's most wanted lounging in the room. It made you nervous. If people like that were casually hanging out around here. What kind of party were you really at?

You shivered and looked to Wanda, her face told you she was thinking the same thing. This could mean trouble.

You tried to relax, falling into a seat with a small sigh. It worked until Wanda perched herself right on your knee, picking a flute of champagne off a nearby tray and taking a slow sip as she surveyed the room.

"I don't think I recognize you twos." A strong Brooklyn accent caught spoke up above the murmuring of the others.

"We're new in town." Wanda spoke up, her voice exuded power and confidence. It wasn't a tone she'd ever used since you'd met her.

You sat up, placing a hand on her hip and leaning your cheek against her shoulder. She draped an arm around you and ran her fingers through your hair.

Again. You almost forgot you were on a mission. Wishful thinking you guessed as you met the gaze of a woman with long white hair. Her pale blue eyes held something unsettling in them. Was is recognition?

She smirked at you and raised her glass. Did she know you?

You looked up at Wanda, she was already looking in the direction of the woman. She didn't look at you, instead displaying her jaw to you as she absently handed you her champagne and crossed the room to grab another one.

The white haired women shifted from the armchair she was sitting in and into the cushion next to you.

"What is she your keeper?" Her lips quirked up into a playful, if not a bit mischievous smirk. You laughed nervously.

"No, not really." You matched her expression, "Why, do you think I need kept?"

"No not at all. Quite the opposite." She chuckled "Beasts like you aren't meant to be tamed."

"Beasts?" You raised an eyebrow. "You find me to be beastly?"

"Only in the most interesting of ways. I can see it in your eyes." Her gaze pierced yours. "You're uncomfortable here. You'd much rather be somewhere much less," Her eyes wandered the room with a look not dissimilar to contempt, "sophisticated."

You laughed. "Something like that."

You sighed, glancing at Wanda who seemed to be struggling to escape a conversation with Damien and one of his associates.

"The social aspects of this line of work aren't really my strong suit. I'm not nearly as polite as my partner." You nodded toward her. "For example. I would've knocked our hosts head of his shoulders by now."

The woman laughed, brushing her fingers along your arm. Was she flirting with you?

You bristled, looking back at her before turning back to see Wanda stalking back toward you with a scowl.

"Uh oh" The white haired woman looked between the approaching Wanda and you. "Did I get you in trouble?"

Before you could respond slender fingers wrapped around your wrist and tugged you upward. Now, only inches from your face, Wanda looked much more intimidating.

"I think we need a break." Her voice was venomous as she glared back at the woman. She began to drag you away and you looked behind you to see the woman sending you an apologetic look.

Once you were out of view from the guards outside the VIP room, Wanda pushed you down another Hall and separated herself from you.

"You gave us a good excuse to get out of there." She spoke lowly, "not that I think you should be flirting with criminals while on a job."

"What was I supposed to do make a scene?" You were genuinely asking. Would she be happier if you'd just shut down the conversation right at the start?

"Of course not." She huffed walking faster down the hallway. "The girls are somewhere on the sub level."

"You mean the basement?" You chuckled.

"Sure" she led you toward where the staircase down should be, but before you could reach it she was ducking into a doorway and dragging you with her.

"Oof" Your back hit the wall and within moments you were trapped against it with Wanda leaning heavily on to you.

You suddenly felt out of breath. Then Wanda kissed you and stole what little oxygen you still had in your lungs.

It was a hot kiss, full of energy and passion that had been missing in every relationship you'd ever had. Before long you were gasping between kisses and Wanda was slipping her tongue into your mouth and you groaned, tightening your grip on her sides and pulling her closer to you.

It was all happening very fast. You hadn't quite caught on to the situation until you noticed footsteps passing by, you barely pried your eyes open enough to see two armed men walking by. They stopped, watching you for what seemed a bit longer than necessary.

Wanda's hands slipped under your your dress shirt and her nails traced your stomach. Within seconds you were much more focused on her than the men not so subtly enjoying your little show.

Wanda pulled away and pressed her forehead to yours to catch her breath. She giggled softly, not opening her eyes. You took the moment to study her. You always though Wanda was pretty, but up close and intimate like this, she was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen.

"I love you." She said it just above a whisper, so it reached your ears and likely the men behind her.

Wait what?

Her lips moved to your neck and your eyes fell shut again as you melted against her. What we're you thinking about again?

Her teeth grazed along a sensitive spot on your neck and you groaned. What was going on? You were meant to be doing something right? Where were you again?

Wanda laughed again, pressing a couple quick kisses to your neck before she pulled away to look at you. She looked amused.

"They're gone now." What? Who was gone?

You looked behind her at the hallway. It was empty. Oh.

Wanda pulled away and you found yourself missing her closeness.

"Let's go." She nodded toward the stairway and you cleared your throat, catching up to her. Right. Important mission. You needed to get a hold of yourself.

Getting to the girls was easy, seeing them was a different story. Your heart caught in your throat. They were so young. Younger than you were.

You grit your teeth. You were going to killed them, Gavroche and everyone else involved. You nearly turned around to confront Damien right away, but Wanda's hand on your arm stopped you.

"Let's get them out of here. We can take care of the rest once they're safe." Her eyes were compassionate. You held her gaze for a moment before closing your eyes. You couldn't think as quickly now, and it wasn't because Wanda was distracting you.

You nodded, "how?"

"The same way we planned. Sneak them out the back." She hesitated. "I'll used my powers to ensure no guards see us leaving. We'll have to take them in groups." Her hand lingered on your arm, rubbing your bicep soothingly.

You nodded, opening yours eyes with new resolve. You could do this.

You got to work freeing the girls of their binds. They were afraid, but you assured them you would get them to safety.

Things went smoothly. You were glad they did. You weren't sure if you could handle failing a mission like this. Soon enough the girls were free and being transported to a safe facility where they could get medical care and be returned to their families.

You were relieved. They were mostly untouched. You found them in time to save the majority of them from the horrors you'd experienced.

With the last girls quietly taken away, it was time to face Gavroche. You shuddered at the thought. You wanted him to pay, but you didn't want to look at his weasily little face again.

When you came into the room you were surprised to see the party was over. There was no one in the VIP room or out in the main area. You frowned, on your guard as you scanned your surroundings.

Then the white haired woman emerged from a previously unseen space, with Damien in cuffs.

"Thanks for the help." She smirked, looking you up and down.

That's why she seemed to recognize you. She must be S.H.I.E.L.D.

"So. Gavroche.." You caught his attention. "That's a French name meaning “street urchin” or “mischievous child”"

Wanda, the agent and Damien all looked at you quizzically.

"What of it?" He glowered at you.

"Nothing, nothing." You shrugged. "It just fits." You looked him over. "You're tiny and you look like you live in a gutter."

He grumbled something obscene in response. Wanda chuckled next to you. Then the agent spoke again.

"His employer is still out there. He narrowly escaped." You bristled at her words. "From what I understand you have a history with him. Preston Alexis."

You calcified. Freezing at the mention of his name.

"Y/n." Wanda touched your face, bringing your attention to her. "Do you know him?"

She knew the answer, but you nodded anyway. "Yeah"

"We're going to have you stay in a safe house. Both of you." The agent looked between you and Wanda. "Until we catch him. He's notoriously bad at hiding without help and his contacts are limited. We'll get him."

You only nodded.

The ride to the new safe house was a blur. In contrast to the ride to the party, you stared out the window, and it was Wanda who stole glances at you.

She didn't ask if you were okay, and you were grateful for her for not trying to have a conversation with you. You didn't think you could handle it. You were glad you had this mission with Wanda. With anyone else you would've had to explain your reaction to Preston's name. You'd have to relive your experience out loud.

You were curled up on the couch in the safe house. It was the first place you went after you got there. You hadn't moved at all in the time it took Wanda to take a shower and change into some clothes left in one of the rooms for agents to use.

The outfit was comically large on her. Large sweat pants much too long for her legs, with the waist cinched as far as Wanda could get them, and what had to be a quadruple x sweater that fell past her knees.

You would've commented on it if you weren't freaking out.

She tugged your arm until you were sitting up, and began unbuttoning your shirt. It felt far too intimate for the state of your relationship, or lack thereof, but you didn't complain.

After tonight, you wanted to be closer to Wanda.

Wanda pushed your dress shirt off your shoulders and you helped her get it the rest of the way off. Then she handed you a hoodie that was equally as oversized as hers. You put it on and chuckled. You were drowning in fabric. It was perfect though. Cozy and oversized in a way that felt safe. Like when you were a kid and you wore your uncle's jacket at the fair. It was a similar fit.

Once you were snuggled up in the hoodie, and sitting on the couch, Wanda turned on the TV and left the room. The screen was playing reruns of M.A.S.H. You smiled faintly. It was a comfort show, oddly enough.

You eventually took off your dress pants, opting to just wear the hoodie as a nightgown. You pulled the fabric over your legs as you settled back in just in time for Wanda to come back with two cups of tea. Eyeing the dress pants you left unceremoniously crumpled at the bottom of the sofa.

She didn't look at you, yes she glanced in your direction but she wouldn't hold your gaze. She'd watch you and look away the moment you looked back. You couldn't tell what she was thinking.

She handed you the tea and hummed quietly in response when you thanked her. You watched her pretending to pay attention to the show, and you were overwhelmed with the need to comfort her. Or did you want her to comfort you?

You thought back to what Natasha said. 'She thinks you're not over her invading your mind. She wouldn't explain why, but she said you're still haunted by it and I think she still blames herself for it.'

"I don't blame you."

Wanda looked up from her tea, still avoiding your eyes.

"I actually think I needed to see it again." You sighed, resting your chin on your knees. "You can't heal what hurt you if you black it out."

"You can't be serious." Her eyes were on you. You could feel them. You didn't look at her, because you knew she'd turn away the second you did. "You've had nightmares about it ever since we met. You project them a lot in your sleep."

You shrugged, "And I'll keep having them. Especially now."

Wanda didn't respond, out of the corner of your eye she looked mortified.

"That's not your fault."

"I read the mission file. Before you." She didn't avoid your gaze when you turned to her this time. "That's why I was so determined to go with someone else."

"What?"

"I- I was-"

"You were trying to protect me."

"In a way." She turned away, twisting imaginary rings around her fingers.

Within a moment you had crossed the couch to pull her into a hug. She hugged you back tighter than you'd expected, and she didn't let go for a while. You chose to enjoy the embrace, taking in her warmth.

It was strange to think only that morning you two would barely talk, and now she was quickly becoming a source of comfort.

Her arms dropped from around you, and you pulled away. "I think I want you on missions with me more often."

She looked surprised.

"I'm serious." You chuckled. "You were a genius. Even if I was undercover as a couple with someone, I wouldn't think to push them against a wall and kiss them when the guards came by."

You thought you might've caught a blush blooming on her cheeks, but Wanda turned away too fast for you to know for sure.

"I was just acting on impulse." She mumbled, sounding almost shy.

"Your impulse was great." You laughed. "In fact I don't think anyone has ever kissed me like that."

Wanda laughed out loud at that. "What?"

"Seriously."

"Not even Carol?" Was that a hint of jealousy you heard?

You and Carol broke up a while ago. She was off-world all the time. It just wasn't working out.

"Please." You scoffed "We never even made it past little kisses. We tried but there was never.. Passion. In the end we didn't really want each other anyway."

"What did you want?"

"Other people I guess." You shook your head. "I dunno"

Wanda looked at you again and you realized just how much closer you were than before. Wanda's eyes lowered and it looked like she was leaning toward you. Then she pulled away.

You imagined it. That's all. You imagined it.

You wished you hadn't.

What was happening? Were there feelings there? You thought there might be on your end.

She said she loved you in the hallway, but that was just for the distraction right? To make the guards feel uncomfortable enough to leave you alone.

But what if it was the truth? Slipped into a moment meant to deceive the guards. It was safe to say it then when you couldn't possibly think she'd meant it.

Wanda was looking at you with an unreadable expression. You were overthinking. Not too loudly you hoped. Could she hear you?

You wondered what Wanda falling in love with you would look like. She'd feel protective of you. She lost a lot of the people she loved. She wouldn't want that again. You imagined soft touches and gentle offerings of things meant to comfort you or lift your spirits.

You looked down at your tea, then back at the TV.

No. That just meant she cared. You'd just confronted something scary. She wanted you to feel better.

You were still overthinking.

Wanda was still watching you.

Your mind was running a mile a minute.

She sighed.

You found your thoughts pushing in a new direction. What would you falling in love with Wanda look like?

Would it be jumping the gun to think you already were? You had a crush on her before sure. Seeing her from afar. She was beautiful and thoughtful despite everything she'd been through. You could fall down that rabbit hole easily. You kind of wanted to. Even if you hit the ground hard and found yourself hurting.

"Do you want to go get dinner?" You asked, before you could even think about it.

Wanda laughed.

"We can't leave the safe house Silly." She spoke between giggles.

"Right." You nodded. "Wanna make dinner?"

There was a pause.

"With me I mean." You clarified.

"Sure" She chuckled. You both knew you wouldn't be much help.

You took her hand, pulling her off the couch, and you didn't let go as you walked to the kitchen together. It felt right. So you linked your fingers through hers as you made your way to the pantry.

Wanda laughed as you both took in the nearly empty shelves, save for a few cans.

"It won't be much of a dinner." She giggled.

You grabbed a can of stew and handed it to her, refusing to let go of her hand as you searched for something you could pair it with. Sighing after you found nothing with your first look over the cans.

"We'll make it work." You chuckled "Canned stew, and good company. Sounds great to me."

Wanda hid her face in your shoulder and your heart skipped a beat. She sighed out a giggle against your arm.

You just grinned and pulled her out into the kitchen again to find a pot to warm up your stew in. You searched through the cupboards with your free hand.

"Uh" Wanda tugged your hand to get your attention. "We could find it easier if you let go of my hand."

"So?"

"So are you going to let me go anytime soon?"

"Do you want me to?"

Wanda didn't respond. So you squeezed her hand and continued your one-handed search.

"Aha!" You grinned as you pulled out a small pot. Wanda laughed and took the pan from you mumbling something about you being a goofball.

You only smiled at her. She was entertaining your obvious silly flirting. That was a good thing.

Wanda set the pot on the stove and turned it on. She found a can opener and tried to move her other hand to open the can. When your hand moved with it she paused.

"Can I have my hand?" You looked just a little bit helpless, maybe conflicted. You pouted. "I promise you can have it back when I don't need it anymore."

You reluctantly let her go, and she thanked you as she opened the can. You sat yourself down on the counter and she smiled over at you as dumped the can into the pot.

"Do you just sit on every counter out of impulse?"

"What?" You looked around at yourself. "What do you mean?"

"Anywhere there's a kitchen. Where you can spend time. You-" Wanda interrupted herself with a laugh "You always end up on the counter."

"I don't know. I just. I wanna sit but I don't wanna leave the area." You rubbed at your wrist.

"There's-" more laughter as she pointed into the dining room. "There's a chair, several of them, right there."

"Nah I'm good here." You watched her crack up again.

You liked her laugh. It was cute. The cutest.

Wanda walked up to you, walking between your legs and resting her hands on your lower thighs.

"Now I'm really good here." You grinned goofily down at her and Wanda's nose scrunched up as she giggled st you. You booped her nose. You had to. You just had to.

She paused, rubbing at her nose for a moment before she smiled up at you. There was a beat or two of silence before you noticed the red wisps on the air.

"Magic huh?" You chuckled, glancing at where she was loading bowls she somehow found with stew. She wasn't even looking at it. The talent she held amazed you. How long had she been going through the kitchen while you were distracted?

"A while" she smirked and frowned in confusion.

"Did I say that out loud or just think it very loudly?"

"You've been thinking very loud since we got here."

Oh.

Oh!

"Shit. Okay then." You wanted to kiss her.

Damn it, intrusive thoughts!

A cute little laugh burst from Wanda's lips. She leaned forward just a little..

Then put a warm bowl in your hands and put a spoon in it.

You couldn't help but giggle with her in response. "You're a total tease!"

"You're not supposed to kiss a girl until after dinner on the first date."

"This is a date?"

"Well you did ask me to dinner." She shrugged. "Now we're having dinner."

So you ate dinner. Then you watched a movie from the stash of old westerns under the TV. Seriously, who stocked this place? Steve?

Then you walked her to the bedroom door.

"Goodnight" You smiled and turned around, she tugged you backwards by the hood of your shirt/dress.

"There's one bedroom. Where are you going?"

"To the couch?" You pointed back toward the living room with your thumb. "If we're still following first date rules, I'm supposed to drop you off at the door and go to my place."

Wanda giggled, then put on a soft pout.

"You forgot your kiss." She put her arms around your neck, leaning in close enough you feel her breath on your lips. "And I'm not above inviting you in on the first date. You're not sleeping on the couch."

With that, she pulled you inside and closed the door behind you. She let you go and turned to walk away.

"Ah!" You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her giggling form back into you. "My kiss!"

You planted a soft kiss on her cheek and pulled away, walking to the bed. You could play the teasing game too.

Wanda laughed behind you. "That's all you wanted?"

You omitted your response, choosing to instead pull back the sheets. She knew that you definitely wanted a proper kiss, but you were determined to tease her back. Give her a taste of her own medicine.

"Y/n" She tugged on your sleeve, and you turned with an attempt at a neutral expression, but just looking at her made you smile again.

She pushed you down to sit on the mattress and you genuinely squeaked as she settled herself on your lap, hands on your shoulders. She chuckled and you almost felt embarrassed, but then her lips were on yours and you forgot everything but the tingling of your skin as her lips moved against yours and her fingers slipped into your hair.

You balled your fists in her sweater and groaned as she bit your lip and pulled away for air. Your foreheads were pressed together again and you flashed back to the moment in the hallway. You would be thinking about that hallway for a long time, oddly enough in a good way despite everything that was going on there.

How could she take such a horrible, scary day and make it feel so good? You weren't even afraid anymore.

Because Wanda was there, and she was safe, and she was amazing.

"You're magical." You breathed out and Wanda grinned.

"I've been told that."

"You have?"

Wanda spun her magic between her fingers and waited for you to catch on. It took a moment. Or five.

"Oh"

Wanda started giggling. "Oh!"

"Hey! I'm in a post-kiss haze right now. Don't be mean." You pouted for about two seconds.

Wanda kissed you again. Softly, gently, and way too shortly. Then you were smiling.

"Thank you."

"What for?"

"Today could have been horrible. I mean yeah we completed our mission but.." You trailed off. "I was content to be terrified and you made me feel better."

"What are friends for?" She grinned and you pulled back, frowning.

Wanda only laughed as you lifted her up and dropped her on the bed. You started to walk away but turned around and brought the covers over her shaking body as she kept laughing.

You tucked her in, then kissed her head and moved away.

"Goodnight" you said flatly and started to leave.

"No wait!" Wanda was still giggling as she scrambled out of the bed and pulled on you. "Where are you going?"

"To the couch." It tried to keep a straight face but you were struggling to keep from laughing.

"You can't leave me alone in here." She pouted. "Please stay?"

Damn she was good at this.

"Okay" you turned around and started getting into bed. Wanda slid in next to you with a cheeky little smile.

"Thank you."

"What are friends for?" You grumbled and couldn't help the small smirk pulling at the corners of your lips. "Friendly friends."

"Shut up." She chuckled and pulled you over into another kiss. "You're so fucking cute."

"Fuck you." You laughed a little and she grinned.

"Maybe some other time." She settled herself with her head on your chest and flipped the lights off with a flick of her fingers.

"Goodnight Wanda." You whispered into her hair.

"Good night moya lyubov" she mumbled into your chest.

You smiled as you fell asleep. For the first time, you wanted to sleep. The nightmares could come, but Wanda would be there in the morning, and that was where you wanted to be.

Tag list: @chelleztjs18 @i-do-it-for-the-gays @stonemags That's all I got

[feral-ballad]

Elizabeth Acevedo, from The Poet X; “Assignment 5—First and Final Draft”

[Text ID: “And isn’t that what a poem is? / A lantern glowing in the dark.”]

[perfectquote]

When you love someone, it’s never over. You move on because you have to, but you take them with you in your heart.

Elizabeth Chandler

[skeletoninthemelonland]

“You shine, and I don’t mean it like ‘a shining star’. You shine like you belong here, with your feet on the ground, if that makes any sense. Your face brights up and it's the most beautiful thing anyone could ever see.”

[mrsyelena]

The Professor's Privilege

Read it also on AO3!

Summary: While you're spending a nice moment with your professor inside her office, the Dean decides to pay her a visit. (or, you pleasure Mrs. Maximoff under her desk.)

Relationship: Professor!Wanda Maximoff x Reader, Dean!Natasha Romanoff x Reader x Professor!Wanda Maximoff (Implied)

Chapters: THE PROFESSOR | The Dean

Tags: Reader-Insert, Bottom!Reader, Top!Wanda Maximoff, Age Difference (Reader is 18+), Fingering (Wanda Receiving), Oral (Wanda Receiving), Dom/Sub Undertones, Ownership, Professor-Student Relationship, Spanking (Mentioned)

"You weren't paying attention to class today." You hear her say as soon as you sneak into her office, not looking up from the papers on her desk because she knows you're the only one who would walk in at this hour unannounced.

Her voice sounds disappointed. You know she is chastising you for your behavior. You can't help the smug expression that overtakes your face as you lean back against her door, pushing it closed with a loud click. "I was thinking about you, does that make it better?"

Mrs. Maximoff raises her head to look at you for the first time, one eyebrow arched. She doesn't look impressed, leaning back on her chair with a tired sigh. "Is that so, Ms. Y/l/n?" You love it when she calls you by your last name, sounding so formal even when she's ruining you.

Mrs. Maximoff knows that too.

"I was remembering yesterday." You say, walking closer to her desk. Mrs. Maximoff watches your every step with rapt attention, her eyes never leaving yours. "I kept thinking about how good you fucked me, and how you made me beg for your cock." Your words get a reaction out of her, her lips curling in a tiny grin.

Mrs. Maximoff shifts on her chair, absentmindedly twirling her pen between her fingers. "That's very naughty of you, Ms. Y/l/n." She smirks, looking up at you with so much lust in her eyes that you almost ignore how dangerous it is to provoke her in such a public place. "I think I'll need to punish you for it." Mrs. Maximoff's eyes twinkle mischievously as she rolls her chair back, standing up.

She reaches down to the belt around her pants, undoing the clasp before taking it off in one swift pull. "Come here, now."

You walk toward her almost blindly, watching as she played around with the leather belt to get it ready for you, feeling yourself soaking at the thought of your professor spanking you with it in her office where you could be caught any moment. 

Mrs. Maximoff smiles, eyes gazing you up and down appreciatively, her hand grasps the back of your neck as soon as you're close enough to be touched, pulling you closer for a kiss in the same characteristically demanding way she always did.

However, mere seconds before your lips touch hers, Mrs. Maximoff's expression changes to one of alert, and you yelp as she pushes you down to your knees, blinking confusedly at the woman. "Get under the desk." She says urgently, glancing at the door. "Now!"

You do as you're told, hearing the door open right as you pull yourself under her wooden desk.

"Mrs. Maximoff, there you are." Your eyes widen at the sound of Dean Romanoff's voice, hearing a hitch in Mrs. Maximoff's voice as she tries to sound normal.

"Dean Romanoff, how may I help you?"

"I wanted to talk to you about the new rules." Dean Romanoff says. You hear Mrs. Maximoff sigh in relief, their footsteps approaching the desk as she urges the Dean inside.

Your favorite professor sits down, adjusting the chair closer to her desk. You watch her spreading her legs, tapping her feet around to locate you under her desk, and smile comfortingly - even though she can't see you - as you touch her ankle.

You pay attention to the first few snippets of their conversation, but soon it grows boring to stay in the tiny space hearing all that academic talk between the two older women, so you move your attention elsewhere.

Smiling mischievously, you reach forward until your fingers find the zipper of Mrs. Maximoff's pants. You see her jump in surprise when she feels your touch, her hand finding yours over the front of her pants, holding you still. 

You roll your eyes, turning your hand to give her a comforting squeeze, rubbing her knuckles. You're not stupid - you think to yourself. You're only trying to have a little bit of fun while the two older women talk your ear off about boring things. 

Surely, Mrs. Maximoff won't mind it, right?

It takes a long minute before you hear her sigh in defeat, lightly slapping your hand away. You're almost disappointed by it before Mrs. Maximoff's own hand undoes the button of her pants, pulling down the zipper.

She taps the side of her leg, and you immediately understand her sign as she gently raises her ass from the chair, allowing you to pull her pants down until it stops at her ankles.

You grin at the sight of her lower half almost exposed to your lustful gaze, gazing at the expanse of fair skin and the light patch of wetness you can see on her red lingerie as she spreads her legs open for you, silently inviting you to touch her.

Dean Romanoff's voice becomes a background sound as you lean in, lovingly kissing your professor's thighs. Mrs. Maximoff tenses under your touch, clearing her throat as she continues her conversation. "It would be better if we could find a way to make this work more quickly." She speaks up, a warning aimed at you.

You roll your eyes pettily, only doing it because Mrs. Maximoff can't see you, and bring your hands up to push her underwear to the side as you lean in to lick a long stripe up her slip.

Her breath hitches, hips shifting closer to the edge of the chair. You grip her thighs, digging your nails into her flesh. Your lips part to take her clit into your mouth, sucking it just to hear the sharp intake of breath coming from the woman.

"Are you alright, Mrs. Maximoff?" Dean Romanoff asks worriedly.

"Yes, Dean Romanoff. I just have a bit of a headache, please continue."

You grin, hearing a suspicious hum from Dean Romanoff before the woman continues their conversation. Your tongue laps at her folds, and you have to hold yourself back from moaning at the taste of Mrs. Maximoff as you greedily suck at her entrance, feeling her wetness smearing your lower lip and chin.

You breathe in her scent as if it were a drug, bringing your fingers toward her center as you shift to give attention to her clit. Your digits find their way toward the professor's entrance, two prodding at the sensitive hole as you start to gently slip them inside.

You sigh at the warmth around you, feeling your professor's walls squeeze your fingers as you start to move them in and out. You never did get many opportunities to fuck her like this, due to how often you found yourself handcuffed to her headboard and having her mouth, fingers, and cock on you until you nearly passed out from pleasure.

Mrs. Maximoff was a demanding lover and giver. She only allowed you to fuck her on her terms, so you felt the need to appreciate the opportunity to have this much freedom over her body, even if it was only her lower half.

You hummed against her as you lapped at her folds, hoping Dean Romanoff couldn't hear the lewd sounds of your fingers pumping in and out of Mrs. Maximoff's core. "Mrs. Maximoff, are you sure you're alright?" You hear the Dean's impatient question as Mrs. Maximoff starts showing signs of her orgasm approaching her, her walls clenching around you.

You slow down your movements, aware that as much fun as this was you could be in big trouble if Dean Romanoff caught you doing this. Right as you slow down, however, Mrs. Maximoff's hand grasps yours under the desk, her hips moving in a silent request for you to continue your previous rhythm.

Your eyes widen, but you follow the professor's request. "Come here." You hear her say in a raspy voice, furrowing your eyebrows at the command as you glance between the gap of her desk and body up at her face to figure out if she was crazy to ask something like this from you.

Dean Romanoff's face appears far too close to your professor's, and you feel yourself freeze when the redhead's lips meet Mrs. Maximoff's in a heated kiss.

While one of Mrs. Maximoff's hands threads the Dean's hair, the other digs into your scalp to pull you closer. Her leg hops on your shoulder, the heel of her feet digging into your back as she rolls her hips against your face, humping your tongue for her own pleasure.

"God, Wanda." Dean Romanoff's voice admonishes her as soon as they part, your professor's breathing wavering as she moans for the first time. "In your office, really?" The Dean looks down, dark green eyes meeting yours, and she gently shakes her head as she finds you getting used to your professor's pleasure.

You blush, somehow knowing that you're not in trouble. Wanda - it's what the Dean called Mrs. Maximoff, they must know each other well if they were calling each other by the first name and kissing like this.

Somehow, unlike the many times, students flirted shamelessly with Mrs. Maximoff, you find yourself not jealous of her relationship with the Dean.

Instead, you stare back at Dean Romanoff as you stick your tongue out, fucking your professor harder as you let her hump your tongue until the woman is moaning her breathless release, feeding you with the sweet taste of her juices.

"I thought you were better than this, Wanda." The Dean says, watching your professor regain her breathing.

"And here I thought you wanted to meet my star student, Nat." Mrs. Maximoff smirks, rolling the chair back before urging you to crawl out of the tiny space.

When you do stand up, your professor makes you turn to stare at Dean Romanoff before pulling you down to sit on her lap, circling your waist with her arms and using her legs to kick yours open.

Dean Romanoff's eyes follow the path of skin showing under your skirt, and you know she can see your ruined underwear because of how spread your legs are.

She hums, looking unimpressed by Mrs. Maximoff's actions. "And she was a bad girl too, I was about to punish her for it." Mrs. Maximoff adds quickly, nodding her head to the forgotten leather belt on the corner of her office, almost like she's offering it to the redhead.

Dean Romanoff's eyes darken, eyes finding yours. "Is that so, Ms. Y/l/n? You've been giving your professor a lot of trouble?"

You flush, no sounds leaving your lips. "Answer her, sweetheart." Mrs. Maximoff whispers in your ear, the sweet name falling from her lips for the first time during the day and making you swoon. You loved it even more when she was sweet to you. "Dean Romanoff owns me, so she owns you too. You need to be polite if you want to stay on her good side, baby."

You hold Mrs. Maximoff's hand over your stomach, intertwining your fingers together as you look up at the Dean. "Yes, Dean Romanoff."

If Mrs. Maximoff trusts her to own you, then so do you.

[daringyounggrayson]

whumptober day 1: "You have to let go." (AO3)

Dick hasn’t clung to Bruce like this since he was twelve years old. Bruce can’t remember the last time it happened, not specifically, but he wonders if it had been as horrific as this moment is.

“Dick, shh, you’re alright,” Bruce says, holding Dick tightly and running his fingers through the boy’s hair. He’s in the back of the Batmobile with Dick, who has enough fear toxin running through his system to take down an elephant and a GSW to his knee that Bruce doesn’t think he’s really feeling. Bruce hadn’t had the heart to leave him, let alone the willpower to peel Dick off of him and restrain him, so he’s letting the car run on autopilot. “Deep breaths, chum.”

“They’re gonna kill us, they’re gonna kill us,” Dick says into Bruce’s collar bone.

“Who’s going to kill us?”

Dick chokes on a sob but doesn’t name anyone. “We’re gonna die,” he insists, shoulders shaking.

“We’re fine. No one’s dying tonight.”

They continue like that until they finally make it to the cave. Alfred is waiting for them with a gurney, but Dick refuses to let go of Bruce. They work with it; Bruce carries Dick to the medical bay, and Alfred maneuvers himself around Bruce to get a look at Dick’s knee.

“I’m afraid it will need surgery,” Alfred calls over Dick’s screams. “When did you give him the antidote?”

“Twenty minutes ago.” And it hasn’t helped; Dick’s getting progressively worse.

“Let go of me!” Dick shouts, thrashing against Bruce and trying to tug his leg away from Alfred. “Bruce, make him get off!”

“Shh, he’s helping you. He’s just trying to help,” Bruce says, but Dick doesn’t seem to hear him as he continues to cry and fight against Alfred, who finally lets go.

“Right then,” Alfred says, straightening his shirt. “We’ll need to sedate him. Try to keep his arm still so I can start an IV.”

Bruce grunts, shifting his grip and trying to lean Dick back against the gurney.

“Bruce, Bruce,” Dick starts in a new wave of panic, grip tightening.

“Robin,” Bruce growls, “calm down. You need surgery. Do you understand?”

“He’s gonna kill me, don’t let him kill me. Please!” Dick cries out, digging his fingers painfully into Bruce’s shoulders and wrapping his legs around Bruce’s waist.

“Alfred’s not going to hurt you,” Bruce promises.

“It’s not Alfred,” Dick hisses. “He’s possessed. Just listen to me!”

Bruce closes his eyes and exhales slowly, trying to keep himself calm. “Dick, you have to let go of me. We’re trying to help you.”

Dick makes no move to let go, so Bruce is left with no other option but to pull Dick’s hands off of him and push him down against the gurney. The look of betrayal on Dick’s face cuts Bruce deeper than any knife possibly could.

“Stop! Bruce, please! I’ll do anything!”

“Shh, it will be over soon.” Bruce really hopes that Dick doesn’t remember this.

“Perhaps we should try the gas first?” Alfred suggests, already walking away to fetch the necessary equipment.

Bruce grunts in approval, and Dick goes very still.

“Bruce,” Dick whispers desperately, still clinging to Bruce like he'll fall apart if he lets go. And his voice—it sounds strained and distorted from all of the screaming. Wong. It's not the first time that Bruce wishes this was all a fear toxin-induced hallucination. “Please. I’m right about this, just trust me. Please.”

“You’re not thinking clearly,” Bruce tells him. “You’re hurt, you’re under the influence of fear gas, and you need surgery. You were shot. Try to remember.”

“Bruce,” Dick pleads, tightening his hold and trying to lift himself away from the gurney. “I don’t want to die. I—I’m not ready.”

“Everything’s going to be all right. I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Alfred clears his throat. He’s back, anesthetic in hand. He’s holding the mask up in question. “Do you want to try, or should I?”

“I’ll do it.”

Bruce takes the mask, and Dick immediately recoils, trying to shrink under Bruce’s grip and slide off the gurney. Bruce’s reflexes are fast though, and Dick can barely move an inch before he’s pinned again. Dick thrashes, turning his head side to side in a violent attempt to avoid the mask. It’s a useless fight—it lasts seconds.

“Deep breaths,” Bruce instructs. Alfred moves to pin Dick’s shoulders down, allowing Bruce to simultaneously hold the mask carefully against Dick’s face and hold one of his hands. “Let’s count backward from ten.”

Tears are streaming down Dick’s face, and he’s hyperventilating, squeezing Bruce’s hand with all of the force he has left.

“Ten.”

Dick doesn’t count. Instead, he screams and bucks his shoulders, trying to loosen Alfred’s grip to no avail.

“Nine.”

He blinks quickly, trying to stay awake.

“Eight.”

Dick’s erratic movements slow and weaken.

“Seven.”

Dick’s eyes close, and they don’t open.

“Six.”

He’s still, relaxed.

“Five.”

Bruce takes his hand off the mask and presses a kiss into the boy's hair. “Rest,” he says. He squeezes Dick’s hand one final time before letting go. Bruce steps away from the gurney as Alfred rushes in, and Bruce forces himself to walk away, vowing to have a working antidote by the time Dick wakes up.

[gonnaeatyourgirlfriend]

i love how after all this time we are all still in love with elizabeth swann and just simply never stopped thinking about The Pirate King

[perfectfeelings]

Love yourself as much as you want your soulmate to love you.

Elizabeth Daniels

[thoughtkick]

I’m here. I love you. I don’t care if you need to stay up crying all night long, I will stay with you. There’s nothing you can ever do to lose my love.

Elizabeth Gilbert

[cosmoseinfeld]

I went through my tumblr archive and wanted to share these forgotten gems