#past loki x oc

[bit-dodgy-innit]

Scared to be Lonely - Part 3

Part 1    Part 2    Epilogue

Summary: Jake has entered the chat and it’s about to get nasty. 

Rating: Explicit, Minors DNI!

Pairing: Jake x Fem!OC, past Steven Grant x Fem!OC, past Marc Spector x Fem!OC, past Loki x Fem!OC

Word Count: 5.2k 

A/N: Oh my goodness everyone thank you for the great response to the first two installments of this fic! So encouraging for a long-time lurker, first-time poster. It helps keep me writing, and I apologize for the delay here! If it’s any consolation, this is an absolute fuckfest. Also as for the Allspeak of it all, I imagine Sigyn is speaking to Jake in Spanish the entire time but since English in my first language (I’m an intermediate Spanish-speaker) and it is for most you all as well, their dialogue is primarily in English. I sprinkled in a few Spanish phrases and the pet names throughout though, and translations are at the bottom of the post!

TW/CW: Handsy Jake before he’s gotten full consent, light bondage, breastplay, fingering (both vaginal and anal, f!receiving), rimming (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), dom!Jake and bratty!sub!Sigyn (our girl’s a switch), orgasm denial, spanking, mucho dirty talk that includes pet names, grinding, anal sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism between the alters, masturbation, cumshot, aaaaaand you guessed it, angst!! 🙃 But also aftercare because as ruthless Jake may be in the streets, something tells me he takes care of his lady in the sheets. 

When Sigyn’s eyes blinked open, she could just spot the edges of the sky beginning to lighten. Steven’s arm was still wrapped around her, holding her snugly to his body. It made her bite her lip as she grinned, taking an odd sense of pride at easing away some of her lover’s shyness. 

She twisted in his grasp, ready to rouse him with a kiss, but he was already awake, watching her. One look at the man in bed with her and the Asgardian knew he wasn’t Steven. There was a hardness and rapacity behind his eyes that ruled out him being Marc as well. 

Sigyn tensed, but didn’t allow her face to betray any fear. She retreated to her mask of haughty indifference. “And you are?” 

“I’m the man who’s going to fuck you properly.”

The princess instantly recoiled. “I beg your pardon?!”

Jake faltered, “You can understand me?” He’d figured Sigyn wouldn’t since she’d spoken exclusively English with his alters. 

“Asgardians possess what we call the Allspeak, which means we can understand all languages across the nine realms,” Sigyn explained. “Now, would you like to try that introduction again?”

He gathered himself. “I’m Jake, es un placer conocerte.” 

He reached to kiss Sigyn’s bare shoulder, yet she evaded him. “Marc didn’t mention you. Nor did Steven for that matter.” 

“Si. I’m their dirty little secret.” 

“Why is that?”

“Dunno, maybe because I’m Khonshu’s favorite.”

“What sets you apart, I wonder,” Sigyn mused. “Surely it’s more than your coarse language.”

He let out a quick, amused laugh. “I get the job done, no matter what.”

“And is that what I am to you, to them?” she questioned, “A job?”

“I guess so,” Jake shrugged, “but I think you’re something else altogether…”

He leaned to her again, trying to wrap his arms around the princess’s waist, but Sigyn disappeared in a shimmer of golden light. She reappeared on the other side of the room, materializing on one the chairs in the sitting area, a short black satin robe now draped over shoulders and tied securely around her body. 

“Santa mierda,” he breathed at Sigyn’s vanishing act. It shouldn’t have been as hot as he found it to be.

“You assume because I laid with the other men, you’re entitled to me as they are.”

“Sigyn–”

“Your highness,” she corrected him.

Jake held his hands up in surrender, sending her his most disarming grin, “Princesa.” 

“Steven and Marc earned my trust, my desire. I’m not some common whore that you’re promised a turn with,” Sigyn spat at him. 

He moved toward her, slower this time, but Sigyn’s magic was quicker. Next thing he knew, Jake’s wrists were pulled above his head, tied to the headboard. If the Asgardian wanted Jake to settle down, this certainly wasn’t the way to do it. His cock stirred beneath the sheets, he did always love a challenge. 

Play nice, for fuck’s sake, Marc implored him from the glass top of a nightstand that flanked the bed. Don’t ruin this.

“I’m sorry, su alteza. I was out of line,” he apologized. Sigyn’s face was as impassive as stone. “I…I won’t try anything again, I promise. Forgive me.”

Sigyn seemed to be fascinated with her manicure. Jake tried to test his bonds, but the ropes the princess had conjured were strong. 

“It’s um, clear you’re a lot more powerful than you look,” he continued as he fidgeted, trying to slip his hands free, “I was distracted by your beauty.”

“Shall I leave you here?” she pondered. “Let Thor and the others find you like this when they return?”

Jake smirked at her. “Carino, I don’t think that’s going to have the effect you intend it to. I’m nothing like the others.” 

Sigyn followed his gaze to the tent forming under the sheets. With a scoff and an eyeroll, she waved her hand and freed Jake from the restraints. She dematerialized in another flash as he tended to his reddened wrists. 

What’d you have to do that for? Steven reprimanded him. Now she’s gone, S.W.O.R.D. is going to be so cross with us, let alone Thor. Blimey, we’ve made an enemy of the god of thunder–

“Callate”, Jake silenced his alter and did his best to ignore the concern beginning the brew in his stomach. Giving no regard to his nudity, he exited the bed for the living room only to find Sigyn curled up against the bay window. A pale shade of blue had begun to paint the horizon.

“If you’ve been able to do that the whole time,” he asked, making sure to keep a safe distance, “why haven’t you left already, bruja?” 

“I prefer the term sorceress,” she replied automatically, then caught herself. She mustn’t reveal too much. 

The truth was Sigyn’s ability to teleport with her magic was limited. Though she’d been working on incorporating the skill into her combat, the Asgardian lacked the control over it she desired and could only travel a handful of paces without tiring herself. On Asgard, her powers seemed paltry compared to her husband’s, who was regarded as one of the most powerful sorcerer���s the nine realms had ever seen. Like being called goddess, she guiltily cherished Midgardians that perceived her as a strong, powerful deity, since she’d spent most of her life feeling like anything but. 

The princess chose to cite another reason, still true but that one that had contributed slightly less so to her surrender to spending yet another night in the hotel that had become her cage. 

“Because I wanted to Marc to fuck me,” she told him, enjoying the jealous flare of Jake’s nostrils when she said it. 

“You’re missing out princesa,” he chided her. “If you thought the other two could show you a good time–”

“You’re leaving yourself very vulnerable like that,” Sigyn interrupted him and gestured to his bare, caramel skin. 

“I’m not worried.” He hadn't missed how the princess’s eyes had roamed over his body, lingering just a fraction of a second too long on his legs and now soft cock. 

“Perhaps you ought to be. Men’s underestimation of me is one of my most powerful weapons.”

Jake stalked closer to Sigyn’s perch on the upholstered bench by the window. “Oh I know exactly what you’re capable of, and if you’d wanted to do something to me, you would've by now.”

The pursing of Sigyn’s lips and lack of response meant he was right. 

“You can’t blame me for wanting you,” he continued as he sat next to her on the windowsill. “I don’t get a lot of time off-duty with the body and I…I mean come on, you’re a goddess.”  

Sigyn squirmed. “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that term to be perfectly honest.” 

“You sure seemed to like it when Steven called you that.” The glare Sigyn shot him prompted an instant apology from Jake. “Lo siento.”

“We were in the throes of passion,” she explained, her defenses back up.  

“Claro. Princesa it is, then.”

“What do you mean when you say you don’t have much time ‘off-duty’ with the body?” Sigyn inquired. 

“Khonshu refers to his avatar as his fist of vengeance. Marc likes to think he’s it, but it’s me. It’s like I said earlier, I get the job done and I’m fucking good at what I do.” 

Quiet fell over the two. While Sigyn took comfort in it, Jake found it intolerable. He sprung up and began pace, rifling through the files and materials S.W.O.R.D. left behind until he unearthed a pack of cigarettes. 

“Can you light this?” He asked with the smoke between his lips. 

“Ask nicely.” 

“Fuck, I’ll just find a light.”

Before Jake could however, the room’s sole box of matches flew into her hands. He turned back to her with a grimace. 

“Por favor su alteza”. He considered adding in a mocking little bow, but for once restrained himself.

Sigyn complied with a flick of her fingers. She opened the window behind her so the smell wouldn’t linger. 

Silence blanketed them once more, Jake particularly aware of the princess’s eyes on him, examining his gait, the way in which he held himself, how he’d pushed his hair back unlike Steven who preferred it parted towards one side. Soon it became unnerving.

“What?” he snapped 

“It’s mad.”

“What is?”

“You all share a body but look so different.” 

Jake shrugged, taking another drag from his cigarette. “Does it scare you?” 

“No.”

“Does it fascinate you?” Sigyn could hear the years of resentment and hurt caged within the question.

“That’s not the word I’d use.”

“What would you use then?” Jake challenged her. 

“Intrigued, perhaps,” Sigyn answered simply. 

“Por supuesto,” he laughed humorlessly. “I saw you with Marc downstairs. You wanna shrink all of our heads, I’m just next up.”

“That’s not true, Jake,” the Asgardian kept her voice even. “I merely wish to understand better. You’re not the first complicated man I’ve been with.”

“That’s right, Prince Not-So-Charming.” 

Sigyn allowed the barb to roll off her back. “I know how it feels to an extent. To be seen and praised for one thing. I was nothing but an adornment to Loki. At least you get to fight.”    

Another laugh without a trace of humor or cheer from Jake. 

“Oh come now,” she cajoled him. Sigyn shifted from her seat leaning against the window to sitting on her knees away from the panes, facing Jake. “You know by now that the only way I’ll let you have me is if you open up.”

Jake stubbed out his cigarette. “Mira, I don’t think that’s true.” He approached her once more, his stride loosening into a swagger. “I think you want someone to take care of you.” He was back on the bench, crowding Sigyn’s space. “You had to spar with Marc, then had to coach Steven the whole time you were fucking.” 

“He did just fine, thank you,” Sigyn protested.

“Who do you think spanked you so you could come the second time,” he murmured into her ear. “Vamos nena, let Papi make you feel good.” 

Sigyn knew she shouldn’t have found the scent of smoke on his breath so enticing…but she always did find herself drawn to a bad boy.

“I don’t know,” she vacillated, her voice going airy as Jake traced the length of her neck with the tip of his nose. “Do you believe you can fuck me better than a god?”

Sigyn’s question had its intended effect with Jake growling his response and pulling her into a kiss. They clashed in a mess of teeth and tongues, Jake’s tongue plundering Sigyn’s. His hands fisted the black satin of her robe, clinging to her in case she disappeared again, which is precisely what she did. One moment he had his arms full of the Asgardian, the next Jake was falling forward, his palms catching him on the upholstered bench as Sigyn had vanished. 

He muttered a curse in Spanish. He thought he’d made headway with her. 

She must have picked up a few moves from her husband, Steven remarked from his reflection in the bay window. She was married to the trickster god after all. 

Before Jake could respond, he heard Sigyn. “Ohhh Jaaaake,” she intoned, “wherever could I be?”

He leapt to his feet and hurried as fast as his swollen member would let him back to the bedroom where Sigyn’s voice had drifted from. Jake found the princess kneeling on the bed, naked with only one of the large pillows covering herself. She was a wet dream come to life. 

“Well done you,” she giggled. Jake’s cock throbbed. 

“Fuck…” he growled, crossing to the bed with long strides, “I am going to fuck you so hard.” 

“I certainly do hope so,” she replied, a beguiling smirk painted across her mouth as she bit her lip. 

Jake tore the pillow from Sigyn’s hands, earning another giggle mixed with an exclamation when he did, and tossed it to the side to reveal the goddess’s naked body. He tackled her back onto the bed and captured her lips once more. They rolled atop the already mussed sheets, their limbs tangled together, Jake eventually ending up above Sigyn. 

He traced two fingers along her slit, his chest rumbling in delight when he felt her wetness. “You put on a good act, princesa, but I can feel how much you want me.”

Jake pre-empted any retort from the goddess by inserting his two fingers inside of her. 

“Do you know how torturous it was watching them get to have you first?” He asked her. She gasped as he played with her pussy. “Being able to see, but not touch, or taste for myself.” 

He withdrew his fingers from Sigyn and brought them to his mouth to suck off her juices. “Delicoso.”

“You have me now,” she reminded him, fixing him with a dark, desirous gaze. “What are you going to do with me?” 

“Well first I need to get my hands on these titties,” Jake did as he said. He cupped her supple breasts, toying with them, feeling their weight in his grip for himself, giving one a little slap.  

He took his cock in hand, guiding the head to circle the circumference of her nipple ever-so-gently. Jake must have been taking notes when Steven had been worshiping her breasts and knew it was a highly erogenous zones for her, Sigyn realized. He seemed just as titillated by the featherlight contact as Sigyn did. The dirty, but ultimately soft, touch surprised the princess. She figured he didn’t have it in him. 

“I could just jack it and come all over your tits,” Jake thought out loud, “But I want to do something else more.”

“What else?” Sigyn prompted him, “you said you were going to take care of me, Papi”. 

The princess’s use of the term made him grunt. “Impatient girl. On your hands and knees.” 

She obeyed without hesitation and Jake got an eyeful of his prize. 

He draped himself over her back, and hissed into Sigyn’s ear, “I don’t like sharing with the other two, and I hate that they got to have you first…” he slid his hands from the Asgardian’s shoulders down her back, going lower “so I want to fuck you where I can have you all to myself.” He finished by giving her ass a squeeze. 

Sigyn stiffened ever-so-slightly, but Jake could see the tensing of her back muscles under her golden skin. “Perdoname princesa, does su alteza not take it up the ass?” 

The princess in question craned her neck to the side, tossing her hair in the process, to reply placidly, “You seem to be unable to grasp that I was married for hundreds of years. Of course I have. It’s merely been a little while, that’s all.”

She was telling the truth. Sigyn didn’t know what had come as more of a shock, the revelation that Loki had wanted to penetrate her there or how much she found herself to enjoy it when she finally allowed him. 

“Muy bien,” he celebrated with a smack to her ass. Sigyn shuddered. “Don't worry nena, I’ll get you nice and ready for me, make it feel so good for you and Papi.” 

Sigyn purred as Jake dropped kisses in a line down her spine. She quivered more and more with the lower his lips descended, her anticipation increasing with each notch of her spine Jake’s lips touched. 

At last he reached his destination. “Such a pretty little asshole,” Jake murmured against her wrinkled skin, making Sigyn's breath hitch. 

He circled his tongue around her pucker first, using its tip to make her tremble. Jake fed off the gasps and sighs that escaped the princess as he licked her hole and crack. His tongue was warm and insistent against her delicate skin as Sigyn gradually relaxed and surrendered to what she still somewhat believed was the inappropriate pleasure of having her ass eaten. 

Jake’s flattened his tongue to draw long, flat stripes up the entire length of her backside. Sigyn shuddered. The languid, warm, wet pressure against her most private place gave her goosebumps and kept her nipples hardened into points. Jake used his tongue next to breach her hole. The Asgardian keened and fought to keep her wrists steady on the mattress. 

Jake probed her carefully, savoring the heat around his tongue, well aware it would feel ever better suffocating his cock. He soon progressed to fucking in and out with the muscle, alternating between tongue-fucking Sigyn’s pucker and lapping at the valley between her ass cheeks. 

He extracted his tongue and gave her hole a parting suck before speaking, “Princesa, we need lube.” 

“Yes, alright,” she panted, “allow me a moment to concentrate.” 

Jake removed his hands from Sigyn’s sweat-glistened skin. She drew in a deep breath and then in her signature golden shimmer, a small glass vial of oil appeared in Jake’s palm. 

“Gracias, nena” he thanked her as he wet two of his fingers. He brought them both against her pucker, rubbing the wrinkled skin there before he eased a digit in. 

Where Sigyn had been all breathy gasps and cries, a guttural groan left her when Jake pushed his finger inside her. He gave her a second before he began moving it back and forth, giving her a chance to accommodate the initial stretch. Another finger joined the first, and Jake scissoring and spreading them in her intoxicating heat. 

“How does that feel, carino?” he inquired. 

“Mmm so good, Papi,” she responded without hesitation, the bliss of submission washing over her. “Want more.”

“Oh, you want more?”

Sigyn answered with a wanton moan and a clench around his fingers. 

“Ask nicely,” Jake threw her earlier jab back at Sigyn. 

Sigyn couldn’t help but laugh. “Fuck you.”

Jake laid a forceful spank across her ass. Sigyn whimpered. “What was that?” 

“Oh please fuck me, Papi?” she asked, resuming her submissive demeanor. “Need your dick in my tight little hole.” 

Her dirty talk was almost enough to convince Jake that she shouldn’t be punished for her mouthy comment, but Jake wanted to show Sigyn that although she may be considered a goddess, he could handle her. 

He spanked her ass again, then pressed the same hand between her shoulder blades, forcing the Asgardian’s face rested against the sheets. “Good girls wait for Papi to give them their pleasure.” 

“I’m sorry, Papi.”

Jake lubed a third finger and wriggled it bedsides the others. He picked up the pace and bent down as well, attaching his mouth to her folds and went straight for Sigyn’s clit. 

“Ohhh norns” the princess whined. Jake was bringing to her a point where her pleasure was almost starting to hurt. He was merciless, driving his fingers into her now yearning hole and sucking on her clit. 

He pulled away for only a moment to catch his breath and ask “Gonna come su alteza?”

“Yes!,” The Asgardian cried, “So close Papi, just a little more…”

Jake withdrew his fingers from her ass so suddenly and swiftly it was cruel. Sigyn sobbed at the loss as her pussy and pucker clenched around nothing. She mewled, mourning the likely mind-blowing orgasm her partner had denied her. 

“That’s what impatient, insolent girls get.” 

The princess had half a mind to turn Jake into the little weasel he was if it wasn’t for the slick sound of him lubing up his cock. She glanced back at Jake and ached at the view. She watched with unabashed desire as his large hand flew up and down his thick length to distribute the oil she’d conjured him. The emptiness in both of her holes as acute as it had ever been, Sigyn leered at him in a trance-like manner as he stroked his large erection. 

He caught her ogling him and chuckled darkly. “Like you see, no? You want me inside of you?”

She nodded feverishly, spreading her knees further apart on the bed to give him better access. 

“Gods”, he groaned at the action, “Ever since you sauntered down to dinner in that little dress I’ve wanted to stick my cock in your ass.”

He ground himself between her cheeks to take the edge off before he lined himself up at her pucker. It was just shy of the satisfaction Sigyn needed, and it took a massive effort for her not to touch herself. But she knew Jake would punish her, and at this point, she was salivating for him to enter her. 

Jake reveled in the sight of his wine red cockhead at the princess’s winking asshole. “You ready, princesa?”

“Yes, please!” her desperate tone made him harder. “Put it in, Jake, need you so bad.” 

Who was Jake to deny such a request? He fed her his cock slowly, his eyes glued to where he disappeared into her snug entrance. It took most of his willpower not to give her his entire cock in a brusque snap of his hips.

The Asgardian had forgotten how heady the stretch inside her could be, how overwhelmingly full having a cock stuff her rear felt. She braced herself, breathing deeply in and out of her nose as Jake entered her mercifully slowly. 

He gave Sigyn’s hips a reassuring squeeze once he was fully seated. “You alright, princesa?” 

The stifling heat and vice-like grip of her walls around his dick was as close to any sort of peace Jake believed he could find. 

“Mmhmm, move Jake,” she ordered him. The feel of him was too much and not enough all at once.

He obeyed, setting a middle-of-the-pack pace, watching his cock disappear into the Asgardian’s entrance over and over again as if it could hypnotize him.

“Your ass feels so good, nena,” he praised, enjoying how she’d slightly clench around him every time he withdrew his cock from her body, “want to live in this hole.”

Sigyn was drowning in pleasure. Not only did it feel like Jake was splitting her in half with his dick, but the force of his thrusts were causing her already sensitive nipples to brush back and forth against the Egyptian cotton of the bed’s sheets, adding another delectable layer of bliss. 

“Papi,” Sigyn pleaded, “fuck me harder.”

Jake picked up the speed of his thrusts. “You realize what you’re asking for, si?” 

Sigyn twisted so she could lock eyes with her lover. “What, is this the best you can do?” 

“Mocosa,” he grunted, with yet another crack of his hand across the princess’s backside. “Papi is going to have to teach you a lesson.” 

He wasted no time transitioning to roughly fucking into Sigyn, eliciting a cry of delight and overwhelm from her. She basked in the ruthless pounding of Jake’s cock into her entrance, the collision of his hips into the globes of her ass. This way the princess couldn’t think about anything else. Jake was all-consuming, shrinking the multiverse to just the two of them, his pelvis driving into her hole, and the bed they were atop of. 

Jake on the other hand, felt eyes on him. The sky had lightened more, which meant more reflections had appeared in the plush bedroom.

He caught Steven first. Jake’s alter seem awed by the fact he was fucking her asshole rather than her cunt. The tip of Steven’s tongue darted between his lips, watching Jake and Sigyn copulate as if they were starring in some sort of custom porn for him. Jake tilted his head, he supposed they were in a way, albeit not intentionally. Jake could only see Steven’s torso in the window’s reflection, but he clocked the telltale movement of his arm revealing that Steven was getting himself off. 

Even less of Marc was visible in the glass top of the nightstand. He watched sternly, his brow furrowed and the corners of his mouth set in a thin, downturned line, which clearly meant he was angry. Angry because he was jealous. 

Despite all of the shit they gave each other in their headspace, Jake did truly care about Marc and Steven. He was their protector, the one who took over when shit got too real so they wouldn’t have to see it. Even so, there was a form of sibling rivalry the three shared, so Jake decided if Steven and Marc were both watching, why not give them a show?  

“Am I pleasing su alteza?” Jake crooned. “Is my cock good enough for la princesa’s little ass?”

Sigyn eschewed replying verbally, instead she pushed herself back on Jake’s throbbing erection, impaling herself harder. He sent an arrogant, thought warranted, smirk to Marc, then a wink to Steven that implied “check this out”.

Emboldened, Jake used his grasp on the princess’s hips to pull her back so her knees were on the edge of the bed. Next, he planted a foot on a corner of the mattress to change his angle and pound into Sigyn all that much deeper.  

Jake tossed an arched brow and another shark-like grin to his alter’s reflections. He may have the body the least, but Jake wanted them to witness how good he was dicking her down.

The princess wailed. Jake was so far up her ass it was as if she could feel him in her stomach. It forced her to squeeze her eyes shut in ecstasy. Sigyn hadn’t let go like this in a long time. After Loki betrayed her she’d put her guard up higher than ever. It was necessary, she believed, but exhausting. Sigyn was sure she still required the protections around her heart, but fuck did it feel good to let them go, if only temporarily, and succumb to her lust. 

Jake reached down between them and placed his thumb on the rim of her puckered skin. While he admired how the width of his cock held her open, her partner’s touch sent a shiver of extra through Sigyn . 

“This is what you’ve needed since the beginning,” he surmised. Sigyn couldn’t believe how coherently he was speaking as he was absolutely railing her, “you needed Papi to fuck you good and put you in your place.” 

Sigyn frowned at the implication she needed to be put in any place but Jake’s cock had scrambled her brain enough to prevent her from protesting. Still, the desire to get at least some revenge was impossible for the princess to dismiss. She bore down on his cock, fluttering her inner muscles around the rod. 

It worked too well. With a shouted “FUCK”, Jake began spilling inside of her scorching channel. He pulled out mid-orgasm, shooting the rest of his load onto her back. She arched her spine as the ropes of his hot cum landed on Sigyn’s golden skin. The Asgardian could put on a show too. 

Jake couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a release that intense. Or that much. When his climax finally subsided, he dragged his fingers through his spend cooling on Sigyn’s back. 

“You made me come so hard, princesa,” Jake growled as he struggled to form an articulate thought. 

“What about me?” Sigyn asked, sitting back on her heels and looking over her shoulder. “I need to come. So badly.” 

Jake’s expression hardened. “Do naughty girls like you deserve to come, hm? That was quite a move you pulled just now.” 

“But you liked it, didn’t you?” she parried, batting her eyelashes at him, pouting her lips. She turned to claw at his broad chest. “Please Papi, I feel so empty without you.”

Sigyn wasn’t particularly proud that she’d resorted to flattery and begging. She knew she could easily lean into the full strength of her magic and threaten. Yet  honestly, she found it more entertaining to pull Jake’s strings instead and conceal exactly how quickly she could humble him. It struck her that perhaps her marriage to Loki had impacted her personality more than she’d admitted previously. 

That train of thought was derailed when one of Jake’s strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against his torso. 

“Shhh nena, don’t worry, I’ll make you come” his voice was gravel, just millimeters from her ear. His inflection was surprisingly tender. 

Jake parted Sigyn’s legs, arranging them over his, and snaked his hand down to her folds. He pressed possessive, if not harsh, kisses into the juncture of the Asgardian’s neck and shoulder while he went to town her clit, rubbing the flats of three fingers against the bud. 

“Jake,” she thrashed her head to and fro, burying it in his shoulder. 

“I’ve got you,” he soothed her, his digits trailing down further and gliding into her pussy without resistance, “Mi diosa.” 

His words, those words, said so sincerely paired with the way Jake curled his fingers to hit her g-spot, had Sigyn coming. She’d never confess that a tear or two fell down her face as she rode out her high. Her cunt spasmed around Jake’s fingers as she dug her own digits into the flesh of her forearms. 

The princess collapsed back into him, utterly spent. He brushed a few errant locks of hair out of her face, dropped a few kisses to her jaw. “Are you okay?” 

“Yes, I think so,” she answered, her eyes still closed. “Don’t ask me to use any magic though. Or move.”

“No no, of course not,” Jake soothed her. “Though when you did that little vanishing act…” 

The faintest smile graced her lips. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” 

“Come,” he gathered Sigyn in his arms. He considered throwing her over his shoulder in a firefighter’s carry, but thought better of it. Jake scooped her up bridal style instead and carried her into the bathroom. 

He set the Asgardian down delicately on the lip of the massive tub while he turned on the shower, then collected her once more and guided her into the spray. 

They didn’t say much to each other as the hot water beat down onto their bodies, both half asleep. The princess clung to him, not able to stand comfortably without being supported, and Jake angled Sigyn so her back would be properly rinsed. 

“It dried,” her voice was barely a whisper, “Could you–”

Sigyn didn’t need to finish her question when Jake held her in one arm, grabbed a bar of the fancy hotel soap and washed her back for her. 

“Turn around,” he instructed her, using his grip on her to assist her in doing so. When he bent down to clean the insides and backs of her thighs, she tried to push him away. 

“Jake, don’t–” It was much more intimate than Sigyn has anticipated getting with Jake that evening, even taking the fact he’d rearranged her insides mere minutes ago into consideration. 

“Tranquilo,” he fired back, though there wasn’t much heat behind it. “I’m making sure you’re okay.” 

She relented, the hot water luring the Asgardian into dozing a bit as she stood and her lover cleaned her bottom half. Before she knew it, he was leading her out of the shower, wrapping a towel around her, and navigating Sigyn to the bed. She crumpled onto the sheets with about as much grace as a marionette did once their strings were cut. 

Jake dropped down next to her a minute later and the two of them fell fast asleep just as the sun rose above the horizon. 

Epilogue

A/N: Whew! I’m tired, who’s tired? Anyone need an orange slice? Gatorade? Jake Lockley to bathe them? Same. I’ll have a fun, cheeky epilogue to follow this chapter and tie up the fic, plus I may have a few drabble ideas in this AU percolating. Again, all the likes, reblogs and comments fuel me to write pure filth in crowded public places so if you enjoyed, let me know :) 

TRANSLATIONS: 

Es un placer conocerte - It’s a pleasure to meet you 

Si - yes

Santa mierda - holy shit 

Princesa - princess 

Carino - sweetie/honey 

Su alteza - your highness 

Callate - shut up

Bruja - witch 

Lo siento - I’m sorry 

Claro - Sure 

Por favor - please 

Por supuesto - of course 

Mira - See 

Vamos  - Come on

nena -  baby 

Perdoname - excuse me 

Muy bien - very good 

Gracias - Thank you 

Mocosa - brat 

Mi diosa - my goddess 

Tranquilo - calm down 

[plaidpyjamas]

fuck it, main blog

Bucky’s arm has a heater? Bucky/Desmond/Loki headcanons insp. by this post

Steams in the winter sometimes lmao

No one’s allowed to talk about his arm steaming 

Sam did once. Once. 

had the heater shit added cause Des (and Loki) is always freezing - kept making him scoot away at night >:(

Des is usually WRAPPED around bucky’s arm

Below 70? Glued to his personal heater

Loki doesn’t feel the cold so much, but his hands are freezing

 Sometimes makes Loki warm up his hands on his arm before he’s allowed to touch anyone

He should do the same to Des. He does not

Loki tries to complain about the double standard but Des just looks at him like 🥺 and he gives up

Desmond is 100% manipulating them into letting him put his icy death hands on them

Des gets to be a little evil

As a treat

[muddyorbsblr]

slipping between future and past [SAS secret santa 2023]

View the full SAS Secret Santa 2023 Masterlist here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: You give your friend a few pointers on what to know about Yule, and come across a familiar looking stranger in your bookstore.

Pairing: Loki x Reader/OC Talia Williams

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, please leave I'm asking nicely); unprotected p in v sex; cunnilingus; magical restraints; language; possibly wonky interpretation of time travel & timeslipping; possibly wonky understanding of Yule [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship; still written in 2nd Person POV like my other 'x Reader' stories, but this time Reader has a name and it's "Talia Williams"; this is a secret santa request for @acidcasualties

Dick-tionary: smut starts at "the feel of your hands being brought" and ends at "as he marked your skin"

It was uncharacteristically slow today in the bookstore, barely a handful of people walking in, browsing for a few minutes, and then promptly exiting when they see that you didn't carry the middle school dystopia book series all the kids were raving over. It was a colossal waste of their time and yours, considering there would have been less effort had they just taken even a cursory look at the sign by the door.

You didn't carry children's books. Classics, Myths, and Romance only.

Of the number of people that walked through the doors that you could count on your two hands, you could only count those that actually made a purchase with one. Half of one.

The sound of the door chimes brought your attention to the entrance again, seeing your friend Ariadne bounding into the front area of the store with a frantic look in her eye. "Talia," she panted, headed straight for you. "Babes, I need your help. Are you busy? You got a customer back there?"

"Nope. Just me," you called out, stepping out from behind the counter. "What's wrong? What do you need?"

"Okay so…you know that guy I'm seeing?"

"Uhh…I think so? Lee, right?"

"Leif. Think trees, Babes. Anyways, he wants me to meet his family and apparently they're super into the ancient Norse traditions, so I need a crash course on how they celebrate Christmas." She paced back and forth by the table that held the New York Times bestsellers that you did hold stock for, picking up a copy of the stalker dark romance duology. "His sister likes to read, you think she'll appreciate this?"

You immediately rushed over to her, grabbing the book and nearly slamming it back down on the stack. "You gotta let them crawl before they walk. Let alone sprint," you explained, giving her Beautiful Bastard instead. "This should be a good enough in between, just in case she's not into guns being shoved up anyone's vagina--"

Up where?! she shrieked, grabbing the first book again, along with the sequel and the book you were handing her. "Okay I'll take that for his sister, and these two for me."

"This is exactly why we're friends," you quipped, ringing up her order. "Now about that other thing…you do know that just because I own a bookshop, it doesn't mean that I know everything about everything, right?"

She rolled her eyes at you. "Yeah, but I also know that you live for all these myths and folk tales, so I bet you know a thing or two about Viking Christmas."

"Alright fine. Find a chair and settle in," you said with an overly dramatic wave of your hand. "First things first, it's not called 'Viking Christmas', it's called 'Yule'. Immediately if you wanna get on his family's good side, you say Good Yule because it shows that you did at least a customary Google search before you stepped foot on their property." You handed her a small notepad and a pencil. "You're gonna wanna write this down."

When her scribbling down stopped, she perked up with a question. "Do they have a Santa Claus?"

"Yes and no," you answered her, prepping two cups of coffee and handing one over to her before plopping down on your own seat in the reading nook, your favorite one in the entire shop. "Santa Claus is what we call who the Brits refer to as 'Father Christmas'. The Brits got that from 'Yule Figure' from the Viking mythology and Mr Yule Figure himself is...Odin."

"Wait wait hold up." She shot up her hand like a kid asking questions in class. "So Odin is Santa? He goes around little Viking kiddies' neighborhoods and slides down the chimney to give them wooden axes and swords?"

"Hmmm not quite. The whole making a list and checking it twice to give the good little boys and girls presents on Christmas is...not quite how the Vikings do it. Instead they engage in something called the Wild Hunt, where Odin aka Big Yule Father Kahuna calls on his posse of gods and plays a game of non-consensual hide and seek with the living souls. So us being the 'living mortals', we have to find a safe enough hiding place that Odin and Thor and the rest of the Norse gods don't find us, because if they do…they drag us to the Underworld."

"Okay first of all, yikes." Ariadne made a big show of shuddering in her seat over what you just told her. "Can't it be something a little bit less morbid? Like if Thor finds you he drags you to his den of iniquity and has his wicked way with you?"

"I mean it's all myths and folklore anyway," you shot back with a small shrug as you finished off your coffee. "So maybe when the big girls are off in their own corner, we can smut it up and pretend that if someone other than Odin finds us, we can get some happy fun times." You both broke out into giggles at your wording. "And when we're telling the story to the smaller kiddos, we say that the gods only go after the naughty kids. Keep with the spirit of Christmas and all that." You wagged a finger in her direction, giving her another suggestion. "Or in the case of meeting Leif's family, just think which one's gonna have him more devastated, your soul getting dragged into the Underworld or your body getting dragged to Thor's man cave."

She wrote down some more notes on her little notepad before standing up, brimming with excitement. "Okay I think that's all I need. Hopefully…"

"Babes, you're there to meet the family, not get gatekeeper gamer boy levels of interrogated on what you know about Yule. As soon as you don't say 'Merry Viking Christmas', you're in the clear."

She squealed, rushing over to wrap her arms around you and give you a tight squeeze. "Thank you thank you! You just saved me from looking a total ditz meeting his family. I have a really good feeling about this one, you know?"

You gave her a squeeze back, happy that she was finally in a relationship that felt stable enough to start on that family she'd always wanted.

Maybe one day you could be so lucky with your own love life.

"I'm really happy for you, Aria. Let me know how it goes when you get back, okay?"

You worked on wrapping up the book she intended to gift Leif's sister as she asked you another question. "What about mistletoe? Do they have that in Yule?"

You scrunched her nose and shook your head at her question. "Yes and no again. Yes, they've assigned meaning to the plant but no, you don't kiss under it for fear of spending the next year all alone. They believe it to be a symbol for fertility, so it's been known for couples to hang it above their headboards so that their holiday fun times might lead to a child. It's also seen as a symbol for new life or resurrection because there's another folktale that says that Loki fashioned a weapon from the mistletoe plant to kill Baldur, and Frigga's tears turned the white berries red and resurrected her fallen son. Which if you ask me is a steaming pile of horse shit that's almost more ridiculous than how Siegfried was felled in the Nibelungenlied, but that's a story for another day."

"Hold up, but isn't Loki also a son of Frigga?"

You shrugged. "Who knows what's real and what's not at this point? These tales are thousands of years old. All we know right now is that Thor's real and he's friends with a billionaire that made a fancy iron suit and a soldier from the 40s that doesn't even look like he's hit his mid-20s. And that he dated an astrophysicist. Tell you what, if I ever meet him, I'll ask him myself. Maybe I'll even ask him what exactly goes down in the Wild Hunt if they still do it in this century."

"Ooh, if he walks into the store please text me?" You gave her a questioning look. "What? He's my hall pass. Leif knows all about it. Natasha Romanoff's his."

You handed her the gift-wrapped book. "Pinky promise, I'll tell you as soon as a 6'4 muscular Barbie looking dude from Asgard swinging a hammer and summoning thunder and lightning walks into my shop. Maybe I'll even text you if the Black Widow herself walks in so that Leif would owe a favor or two."

"Hey, it could happen," she quipped, sticking her tongue out at you like you were back in the sandbox. "We're in New York, after all. And Avengers Tower's just a ten minute walk away. You never know, you know?"

"Right," you breathed, waving her off as she neared the door. "Merry Yule."

"Merry Crisis," she shot back, blowing you a kiss as she stepped into the cold New York night.

You started cleaning the store so you could close up for the night when a new voice pierced through the quiet.

"I appreciate your refusal to believe that hokum about the mistletoe, darling. It warms my cold Jotun heart knowing that it's safe in your brilliant hands."

Large hands found themselves at your waist before your new visitor's arms wrapped around you from behind, your body going frigid at the action. "Who--?"

"Oh no..." He immediately released you from his hold, allowing you to come face to face with a towering man with onyx curls and a devastatingly handsome face that seemed vaguely familiar. "I must have gone back too far this time." He took a step toward you, his hands twitching in your direction as if he wanted to go back to where he was just a few seconds ago. If you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn't object. "Sweetheart, who am I to you?"

"What? This time?" You raised an eyebrow at him, confusion coating your words. "You trying to tell me we met before? Because trust me I'd remember meeting someone that looked like you."

"Who am I to you? What do you know of me?" he asked again, his brows upturned at the center of his forehead, his expression reminding you of a baby kitten pleading for affection.

"Not much," you admitted. "You look like the guy that tore up a hole in the sky and rode some space chariot while leading an alien army that laid waste on the city that I call home...and the guy that went up against Iron Man and his friends, including that big green scary monster looking dude."

He hung his head, looking down at the ground as he let out a long sigh. "I don't just look like that guy, darling, I--" He exhaled sharply before composing himself again. "I am that guy. Well, I was. And Banner's honestly not that terrifying once you get to know him." He looked at you again, seeing your hand and beginning to look emotionally deflated. "I went too far back."

"You know who else you look like?" you asked him, a smirk playing at your mouth as you reached for the chain around your neck, showing him the ring that hung in its center, closing the distance he put between you. "You look like my future husband."

The relief was written all over Loki's face as he eyed the ring he'd given you, a brilliant smile gracing his features when he pulled you into his arms and laid his lips on yours.  You melted into the kiss, pressing yourself against him as the god's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer.

"My darling little mortal," he mumbled against your lips. "Somehow managing to fool a trickster god, for any amount of time, is a feat in and of itself." He kissed you again, lifting you off the ground and spinning you in a circle when you put your arms over his shoulders.

"Well you said it yourself, I'm brilliant," you answered him back when you pulled away, your fiancée keeping your feet off the ground. He adjusted his hold on you to hold you up by a single arm, making you giggle when he started walking toward the front door and made your keys materialize in his now free hand. "What're you doing, Mischief?"

"You're finished here for the night," he stated simply, all the lights turning off, along with the doors locking closed, and the sign in front flipping to "Closed" to indicate you'd retired for the night, with a simple wave of his hand. "I'm taking you home, little mortal. Close your eyes."

A breeze flew by your face and the next thing you knew your back was pressed against the familiar wooden column of your kitchen area. Loki crushed his lips to yours in a desperate kiss, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as he pressed your chests together, hands traveling down the sides of your body to wrap your legs around him.

The feel of your hands being brought above your head despite the god's hands still roaming and grasping at your thighs had your eyes snapping open, breaking the kiss with a little squeak from the back of your throat as you looked up. A thrill shot up your spine seeing a thick glowing ring of Loki's seiðr fastened around your wrists and keeping you tethered to the column behind you.

"I could not decide whether to reward you or punish you for getting the better of me earlier, my love," he rasped, latching his lips to your neck and sucking a bruise into your skin. He smirked against you when you started whimpering and arching into his touch within seconds. "So I shall do both."

You let out a whiny sound that had him lightly grasping your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip to coax it into a pout. He kissed you again, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. Then another ring of his seiðr appeared at your hips, keeping them flush against the column as both rings began to lift you up, your feet soon leaving the ground until he was eye level with your pelvis.

He made a motion with his hand and suddenly you felt a breeze all over your body as he bared you to him, your clothes disappearing in a flash of green.

"Loki…" you whined, squirming under his predatory gaze as another ring of seiðr went around each of your legs, just above your knee, and opened you to him.

"I've not been home in ages, my darling mortal," he rasped, not taking his eyes off of your arousal as he licked his lips. "And I am famished." He took a step closer to you, lightly running his fingers up your inner thigh.

"Let--Let me down, then," you said shakily, feeling your walls quivering and clenching around nothing as he traced up your inner thigh again, only this time with the tip of his nose before pressing a tender kiss to your skin. "I can fix us something to--"

"Oh no, sweet Talia." He kissed you right below your belly button, groaning into your skin. "I do not crave food, my love." He continued to press kisses to your stomach, faintly chuckling when you tried to close your legs and his restraints kept you from moving even an inch. "Your reward is that I will not deny you any ounce of pleasure tonight. I have longed for you too much to deny you much of anything."

He moved his head lower, and you let out an obscene moan of his name as he ran his tongue along the length of your slit before slowly circling your clit.

"Your punishment…" he breathed, pressing slow lingering kisses and laving his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. "No touching."

"Loki, wait--Oh f-fuck!" The room filled with your moans as he proceeded to alternate between long licks at your entrance and close his lips over your clit for what felt like a blissfully torturous eternity. He kept his word on not denying you anything as he brought you over the edge over and over again.

Your throat was raw from your constant moans and screams of his name and various expletives, already having lost count of how many times you came for him when he slid two devastatingly long fingers inside you and curled up, brushing against the spot that had you seeing stars. "One more, sweet girl," he mumbled around your clit, the vibrations from his voice already bringing you to the brink of orgasm yet again.

He moved your legs to rest your thighs on his shoulders, moaning against you when your entire body tensed as you came for him again, your pussy quivering against his mouth as he lapped at your release with languid strokes of his tongue. The restraints around your wrists and hips moved you down the column until your face was level with his, a weak whimper slipping from you when you saw how his lips glistened with your juices.

You barely registered the sound of the zipper as he kissed along your chest, biting and sucking more bruises into your skin. He lined himself up at your entrance, sliding into you in a single effortless thrust and eliciting a staggered sigh of relief from the god. "I've m-missed this," he whimpered between thrusts. "Missed you." Thrust. "My precious mortal." Thrust. "My wife." Thrust.

He threw his head back, letting out a decadent moan when you clenched around him after what he'd just called you. It had you desperately longing for your wedding day. Desperately aching to touch him. Just desperate for him.

"Please…" you whimpered, feebly fighting against the restraints again. When the rings holding you to the column finally disappeared, you could only let out a sharp exhale, your hand immediately clawing into your fiancée's back, the other weaving into his onyx curls.

Loki pressed you harder against the column, driving himself deeper inside you, his hands roaming and grasping wherever he could, as if he couldn't get enough of you. Couldn't touch you enough. He slanted his mouth over yours, moaning into the kiss when your tongues tangled together and you could taste your release on him. He adjusted his hold on you, letting out another muffled obscene sound into each other's mouths when the motion caused you to bounce on his cock.

Once he held you securely in his arms he started walking you further into your home, each step making you bounce on him and further weakening you in his embrace. He eased you down onto your bed, breaking the kiss and rendering you completely speechless watching his clothes melt away and baring his godly physique to you.

All you could do was breathe his name as he moved to hover over you again, pressing his lips to your cheek as he picked up the pace. He wrapped his hand around your knee, raising your leg to wrap it around his waist so he could drive into you harder. When you felt his fingers rubbing over your clit, the only sound that came out of you was a sharp moan, your body weakly arching against his hand before squeaking out, "I can't--"

"Just one more, dear heart. For me," he grunted, latching his lips onto that spot between your neck and shoulder as he kept on rubbing tight circles on the over-sensitized nub. Your legs shook and your walls convulsed around him, bring him to his own release as he marked your skin.

Once you both came down from your high, you felt his seiðr wash over you as he pulled you into his arms, putting the covers over you both with another wave of his hand. "I gotta be honest with you, sweetie, that felt a little pent up," you exhaled, a tiny part of you finding it unfair that he'd already resumed his regular breathing as if he didn't just fuck you senseless.

Damn Asgardian endurance.

"Because it was, precious mortal," he told you simply, tracing his finger along your cheek. "How long has it been since last you saw me?"

"Three months…give or take a week?" You braced yourself, already dreading what he'd say next.

"I have not seen you for over a year, my love," he confessed, pressing another kiss to your lips. "At least not like this. Every time I had seen you, you were yet to know me. There were worlds where you even outright feared me, scurrying away once you'd realized where you recognized me from. When I got to your shop earlier, I nearly believed I landed in another iteration of that world."

Suddenly your 'prank' from earlier left a sinking feeling in your stomach. "Loki, I'm sorry, I didn't know." You wrapped your arm around him, pressing yourself even closer to him if that were even possible, resting your head on his shoulder. "I just thought it'd be a bit of fun--"

"You have nothing to apologize for," he reassured you, brushing the tip of his nose along your own before softly kissing the spot. "But I have missed you terribly. Getting to hold you, to love you. To simply be here with you and enjoy a moment with my wife."

"Future wife," you pouted. "We're still in the planning phase, sadly. I take it the last time you saw me was sometime in our…future? I'm sorry this still gets confusing for me." He nodded his answer, pressing his lips to  your forehead. "Well then the timelines better fucking behave because I refuse to let you go anywhere. I get that you're a big powerful hero now, and knowing that you're out there making sure that everyone's safe and gets to come home to their families? I couldn't be prouder. But you should get to come home, too." You pressed a kiss to his chest, just over his heart. "Preferably for longer than a quickie with your fiancé."

His brows furrowed, shaking his head at your sentiment before pulling you to lay on top of him, chests pressed together with his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. "I've come from a time where we were married and I called you my wife. Regardless of our pending ceremony, that is what you are to me now and what I will call you moving forward. No more of those semantics."

You nudged his chin with your nose, a giggle escaping you when he pulled you up to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Tell me about it. The future…"

"When I found you, you were a force to be reckoned with. Planning your friend Aria's wedding--"

"Ah, so she and Leif really are headed for the fairytale happy ever after?"

"No no, you were planning the wedding in Asgard." You eyes widened at the new information. "She was set to marry Thor."

"Wait she what?!"

A/N: I'm so excited to participate in this year's Secret Santa again! This has been so much fun to write for both times around, and hopefully the story did justice to the request 🥹💖

The request from @acidcasualties:

secret santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

[amphitriteswife]

Too far in to turn Away

💚x💜

Warnings: Angst, no comfort. Newest chapter incident.

Pairing: Loki x Sigyn reader.

Disclaimer: Sigyn in this story belongs to @miss-seanymph-pani ‘s oc.

Tags:@miss-seanymph-pani @brokensenseofhumor @vilereign @monstertreden @tinyy-tea-cup @viostar2095 @nicasdreamer

⚕

Loki was staring up at the ceiling. His eyes not really holding any emotion besides sadness and perhaps regret. He hates feelings. They bothered him and he had no idea on how to deal with them. They were a nuisance. Odin had forbidden him to do anything. Yet everyone was surprised that he obliged. It was no secret that he was dealing with something and he hated it. He hated that everyone knew. Ironic isn’t it? He’s usually always in other’s business. Yet when it comes to himself he dispises it. He turned and looked at the mirror. His eyes staring directly into his. He hated it. He looked pathetic. He hated looking at the effect this all had on him.

He took a deep breath and sighed before he left his chambers. On his way out he bumped into Sif and Idunn. Loki could already feel their displeased aura. Sif looked at him with masked anger. She was one off the goddesses his wife was close with. He clenched jaw and avoided Sif who scoffed at him. Her gold hair flaring up. He remembered how Sif got her golden hair. He played a prank on her and had to pay the price. He laughed a little. The relaisstation hit him like a ton of bricks. This was just like any other prank he played, he now had to pay the price. But now it was different, because no matter the prank, no matter how bad he fucked up, she would be there for him. But she isn’t here….and its all his fault. Loki felt his eyes sting and swallowed before he excused himself. He still smiled as ever, yet his eyebrows and eyes gave away what he was feeling. Eyes are the mirror of one’s soul after all. He walked past both Sif and Idunn. He hadn’t looked at Idunn once, but already knew she only felt pity for him as if he was a pathetic child.

He walked endlessly in the castle. Why? He couldn’t answer that question either. Perhaps he was unintentionally searching for something. Something that reminded him of her. That’s why he even got up today. For her. He’d do it all just for her. He was too deep in thought to know that he stopped in front of the room he once kept a secret in. His eyes lingering on the handle before you could hear a soft clink of the handle being pushed. He stepped inside the room and scanned it. His eyes falling on the porcelain doll. It looked dusty, as if no one took care of it. Loki closed the door and walked towards the doll. With every step he took he felt his anger flare up. He hated that thing now. He scowled and grabbed the doll by the shoulder before forcefully slamming it to the ground, shattering it in the process. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself before his eyes noticed the wedding dress. It was plain and simple. Why? Was it plain and simple? A wedding dress is usually lavish and stylish right? So why that dress?… that’s because his wife wore a similar wedding dress. Loki picked up the wedding dress and dusted it off and neatly folded it. The dress was a reminder of his wife, how could he not neatly take care of it? He placed the dress on the bed in the room.

He took a step away from the bed and accidentally broke a another piece of the doll. He scoffed and stepped on the doll’e face, breaking it into even more pieces. The whole idea of that thing looking like Brunhilde made him sick. Why did he ever like her in the first place? Why? Brunhilde already had Siegfried, and he had his dear wife. He scoffed. He hated all of this. He wants to take it back. To make it seem as if it’s all a joke. But it wouldn’t help. He clenched his teeth, his body shaking. He himself wasn’t even sure if it wad rage or sadness. He closed his eyes, some tears falling in the process. He quickly put a hand over his mouth to suppress the sobs. He hated this. This wasn’t like him. Loki doesn’t cry. He doesn’t feel anything other than mischief and sadism. He hates humans. So why was he here in crying like one? He was a sobbing mess. He didn’t mean for all this to happen. He never wanted to hurt you. Why did he ever even like Brunhilde?…that’s right, it was because it reminded him of his wife of when she was a Valkyrie before she descended to a goddess. He didn’t love Brunhilde. He just loves what he saw in her, and what he saw was his wife.

Loki started sobbing even harder and buried his face into his hands quietly mumbled something for no one to hear. ‘Please..:i’m so sorry, i’ll do everything to make it right…I’ll cry and beg if thats what you want…. I know i’m a fool who took you for granted….please…I’ll do it all of you ask me too…i’m sorry….i’m so…so sorry….’ He sobbed some more before he took another deep breath to calm the crying. His eyes landed on a painting. A painting of his wife. It was a vivid and beautiful painting. A deep pain came over him as her he remembered that day, the day they had gotten married. He stared at the painting, but soon saw something he didn’t like. In the painting Loki was laying in her lap while he looked up at her, however her head was turned to the side a bit and so were her eyes. ‘Where are you looking at?’ Loki asked her in the painting as if she could respond. His eyes still burning from the tears. It annoyed him that she wasn’t looking at him. He walked closer to the painting ‘Don’t look away. Look at me.’ He said to the painting as if he was having a full conversation, yet there was no response. Loki fell to his knees in front of the painting and said in between sobs ‘please…I miss you…I want to see you…I hope you come back…Sigyn’

Note: thank yall for Reading this monstrosity. Also english isn’t my first language. So sorry about thay

[alls-fair-in-pride-and-prejudice]

I Will Write A Fic For You If You Donate to the Palestinian Children's Relief Fund!

I came across the super cool organization Fandom Trumps Hate just recently (as of this post actually), and unfortunately I learned of its existence too late to apply to be one of the writers for this year. Since I don't want to wait a whole year to do some good with my love of writing, I'm holding my own little auction! Let's use that autistic special interest for good!

How Much I Will Write: 1K-5K words (if I end up writing more, well, yay for the lucky auction winner I guess, but that's what I'm willing to commit to)

What Fandoms I Will Write For: Baldur's Gate 3, The Dragon Prince, Good Omens, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and Loki (just... the character. I will write so many things involving that character)

What I Will (and Will Not) Write: Character x Character, Character x reader, Character x OC even if you can give me enough about your OC, are all good! Not into shipping? No worries! I love the platonic and I can even just write a character study or a songfic. I am willing to write up to M rating for this, so some spicy stuff, but not pure smut. Any of the Main Warning Tags on AO3, save Major Character Death (gotta love that angst), are off limits. If you are worried that I can't write your idea before you want to bid, go ahead and shoot me a message before you bid and I'll let you know! You can also check out my pinned post for my masterlist of past fics. I have written all the examples I have given as requests before.

How to Bid: Place the dollar amount (in US $) of your bid in the replies of this post! The bidding period begins at the time of posting, March 3 2024 12pm ESR and ends March 10th 2024 2pm EST.

What Happens If You Win: When the bidding closes I will message the top bidder from this account here on tumblr. From there, you have 48 hours to send proof of your donation. I'm giving myself a deadline of a month to have your fic ready for you.

If the winner does not send proof of donation before the time period is up, I will contact the first runner up.

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[morally-grey-variant]

love is a dagger [loki x oc] [part three]

loki x oc

part three

[master post]

Setting: Agent Grey Forrest can’t quite reconcile her alliance with Loki. After six months of regular hand-to-hand combat and close-weapons training, they’re not quite friends but can’t exactly stay away from each other. Everything changes the day Loki accidentally stabs Grey during a training exercise.

Summary(3): Loki bares his teeth. Grey bears the weight of his guilt. Wolves are not born cruel; they lash out when danger is thrust upon them. All monsters deserve love – even if all they have known is fear. (wc 3.1k)

Warnings: Later episodes feature dark & explicit themes -- Minors DNI. Freshly stitched-up wounds, pain, implied self-harm themes (no descriptions or direct references), general angst, swearing, inferences of past trauma, non-explicit nudity (if I've missed something please let me know!)

Showering is a kind of bliss and torture in and of itself. The stitches pull as I lift my hands above my head to release my ponytail. Scrubbing shampoo into my long, dark hair means I'm forced to curl into myself and tuck my elbows into my sides. This won’t heal quickly, and I'm going to have to learn to work around it. Might as well start now.

Soap slides down my torso and over the puckered seam; I tip my head back in a silent scream, the sharp sting paralyzing my entire body. 

Some tough agent I am. 

But the scalding hot water on my scalp, scrubbing dried blood off my face and hands and everywhere, is enough to make it worth it. When I finally step out of the bathroom, a trail of lilac-scented steam in my wake, Loki is still there. Waiting for me. 

I wish I'd picked cuter pajamas. Comfort eclipsed cuteness, though, and my old gray t-shirt and loose flannel pajama pants are as much as I could manage after the painful effort of shimmying into a loose green bralette. My hair clings to the back of my tee, leaving a big wet patch.

Leaning back in my desk chair, Loki stares deeply into the middle distance. He's somewhere far away, deep in thought as he clenches the arms of the chair so tightly that his knuckles are white.

“That's my only chair,” I say. “If you break it, I don't think they'll give me another.” 

He eases his grip. His gaze loosens, and those green eyes drift to me, considering each piece of my pajamas. “Did you re-dress your … wound?”

I shake my head. “And I don't suppose you'd know how to wrap hair in a towel.” I sigh, sinking onto the edge of my mattress. Leaning forward, I dab my white bath towel against my dark, wavy locks in dismay. 

Towel bunched up in my lap, I close my eyes and let my head fall into my lap with a small groan. The pain is absolutely killing me now. I shouldn't have gotten the stitches wet in the shower, soap drips notwithstanding, but there's no way I could've gotten into bed without washing up first. Wiping myself down with a wet washcloth wouldn't have worked, either – too much reaching and straining. 

I focus on taking deep, calming breaths, the counselor’s words echoing in my head. Square breathing, just like music class in grade school – breathe in, hold, breathe out, hold. 

Deep breaths stretch out my ribcage. Another involuntary groan slips out. Fuck.

“Grey.”

Loki sounds closer, and I’d like to think I’d forgotten his presence in my self-indulgent suffering, but there’s no way I could ignore the way his presence fills up my tiny bedroom. I hum a noncommittal response. I want to lift my head to look at him, but my head might as well weigh a hundred pounds.

There's a tug against the towel, and Loki pulls it out of my lap. Gingerly, he drapes it over the back of my neck, letting it fall forward over my hair. He gathers it up in front, and with a subtle twist, wraps the towel around my hair and tucks it back behind my head. 

“Woah,” I laugh softly, finally letting my head lift. “How–”

One side of Loki's mouth turns up in a thin-lipped grin of acquiescence. “Thor,” he explains simply, his smirk deepening as some memory floats to the surface. “If you tell anyone, he'll have my head for it.”

I can't help but laugh. Loki is warm and familiar when he wants to be, like a reluctant housecat. I'm overcome with an urge to wrap my arms around him and drink in all that dark warmth. 

The laugh rubs my shirt against the wound, and I flinch. 

Loki's face drops. It cracks me open from the inside. 

“I'm fine, Loki,” I say, forcing myself not to curl an arm around my torso. “Really. It'll probably scar, but it's not that bad. I'm fine.”

He shoves the chair back with a flick of his wrists, suddenly towering over me. “It’s not fine.” Loki's eyes darken, his brow creasing. The chair rattles backwards on an unsteady wheel and bangs against the side of the desk. A chill sweeps over me. “Stop saying you're fine, Grey. I think you've forgotten that I stabbed you today. You're not fucking fine.”

“Don't break my fucking chair if you're having a tantrum,” I frown, though I don't bother standing. I won’t fight with him. “You didn't stab me, idiot. It was a training exercise. I didn't get out of the way fast enough. If you'd stabbed me, I'd be in a drawer underneath the hospital by now.”

His eyes flash knowingly before he whips around, practically stomping away from me. He can't go far in the tiny room, and his march to the window would almost be comical if it didn't fucking kill me to see him this upset. I wouldn't treat the god with kid gloves, though. He could handle my anger.

One arm braces above his head as he leans against the full-length window, staring out at the darkening landscape below. The half-moon reflects onto his pale, brooding face. His hood bunches up around his shoulders, pushing his dark curls forward from where he's tucked them behind his ears. He's trying to calm down, too.

“You're exactly right, you know.”

Something in his tone sends a shard of ice through my chest. He doesn't break his stare, watching the world spread below us, though I know he's not really seeing anything. 

“I'm ending your training.” He continues coldly, his voice flat and businesslike. As if he's ordering coffee. “This has gone far enough.”

“Loki–” I protest, pinching the skin on the back of my arm. “That's not fair. I have a say in this, too. I'm not going off to war. We're sparring in a padded room. No one else will train with me–”

He whips around, face contorted in horrifyingly inhuman fury. His hands ball up into fists at his sides. “Do you know the last agent I fucking stabbed, Grey?” He seethes through clenched teeth. A muscle in his jaw flexes, twitching up through his temple. “I killed Phil Coulson. Stabbed him in the fucking back.” 

His eyes glaze over, the whites now run through with pinkish-red. He spits his admission through his teeth like a snake spitting venom. The things that haunt him in the middle of the night, that he wishes he could bury deep and let them rot in his heart forever. But they forever lurk just beneath the surface. When he looks at me, he sees Coulson.

“I know, Loki. I’m not afraid of you.” 

SHIELD agents learn about Loki the moment they ask to work directly with the Avengers. We learn about all the Avengers, sure – Cap's brave sacrifice, Tony's arrogant but self-sacrificing genius, Thor's god-like might – but they’re obsessed with Loki. The training videos have something of a “keep your enemies closer” vibe that would make you think he's some bloodthirsty supervillain. Loki murdered Agent Coulson in cold blood. Loki tried to conquer Earth to spite his brother. Loki lies and cheats and stabs people in the back.

Well, he only stabbed me in the front.

“I'm not afraid of you.” My voice is even and calm. “Sit down, Loki.”

He doesn't move a muscle. If I didn't know better, I'd think he wanted to slap me. 

“Coulson's alive,” I continue, shrugging with all the nonchalance I can muster. “And you can't end our training. You don't just get to decide things for me.”

“Coulson is alive by chance,” Loki counters quickly. He's lost some of his fire, though. His muscles relax slightly, even if he's still obviously on edge. “And I do get to decide for you when you're putting yourself in danger.”

Now it's my turn to get angry. His words stoke the little ember that ceaselessly burns in my chest. I get to decide for you. 

“Why do you care if I put myself in danger?” I shout, ignoring the way my ragged heart chafes in my chest. 

“Because I care about you, you fumbling imbecile!” Loki shouts back, palms spread wide, face contorted in wretched agony. “I had to sit here and listen to your agony while you did something as simple as shower, knowing I am the cause of that pain. For weeks – likely for months – I will be forced to watch you suffer from afar because of my mistake.” The words pour out of him, uncontrolled and unfiltered. “Day after day, I'm subjected to loathsome glares and rightfully placed suspicion. I know quite well who I am, Grey. The God of Mischief; the Prince of Lies. An arbiter of human misery.

“I found the only soul whose face doesn't contort with hatred when they see me, and I sank a dagger into her chest.”

Loki's chest falls. His entire body slumps forward under the weight of his admission. He tugs his hands through his curls again, twisting away from me. “I must go,” he finishes, his words clipped. He hastens past me.

I snag the loose fabric of his sweatshirt as he tries to walk past me towards the door. “Don't you dare.”

He freezes mid-step. He obeys, though his head is still turned away from mine. My hand curls into the fabric with a tight fist; the weight of such a grip that might bring him to his knees. 

“Don't you dare, Loki,” I repeat, still looking up at him though he won't meet my gaze. “Running away won't fix this.”

His chest shudders with a ragged breath.

“You want to drown in self-pity just because you made a mistake? Learn the difference between accidents and purposeful attacks, you fumbling imbecile.” I can't help but grin a little as I echo his frustrated insult. “If you leave now, not only am I going to have to deal with this on my own, but it's going to fucking hurt when I re-wrap this stupid thing. I earned this, so I get to deal with it on my own terms.”

I earned this. I deserve this.

He finally looks down at me. Red-rimmed green eyes leak small tracks of tears down his cheeks. That shatters the cracked thing inside my chest. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself and help take care of me,” I continue, clinging to his shirt and forcing my voice not to crack.

I chose to ally myself with the villain. The man – the god – no one else will even go near.

“Stark will be furious if you forgive me.” Loki smirks down at me through his tears. 

I earned this, because this is exactly what I deserve. Loki doesn’t get to decide who suffers and who grieves. He isn’t the only kicked dog here.

“Good. Maybe some disobedience will humble him.”

Loki rolls his eyes as he finally shifts, taking a step back and lowering himself to sit beside me on the edge of the mattress. “Humility is not a concept he recognizes, I'm afraid.” 

The fallout from this will cause an avalanche. I wince as a mountain of potential consequences piles up in my mind. Faces flash through my mind as I picture just a few people who will need more than a little convincing that this accident was, indeed, an accident. Natasha. Nick Fury. Tony Stark. Thor. Natasha. Agent Coulson. Cap. Natasha. But for now, there are no consequences. As long as I can keep him safe in here with me, tucked away like a secret deep in my heart, we’re a universe of two.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” Loki’s voice is gentler now. He's not crying – I doubt more than a few tears actually fell to begin with – but his demeanor softens considerably, even though he still seems on edge. Loki is more than a mere secret. He’s an earth-shattering whisper passed beneath hastened breaths. Deceptively silent. Taking up far less room than he deserves.

I care about you. 

The words echo again. What exactly does that mean, though? A lingering hand on my thigh during training; his head cupping my face while the doctor stitched me up.

Loki isn't a villain.

“I’m imagining everyone I'm going to have to explain this to when I can't report for duty tomorrow,” I concede, shrugging. The small movement draws out another involuntary hiss of pain.

I deserve this.

“You didn't bandage it after your shower?” 

I shake my head. “Too much… stretching. Getting dressed was hard enough.” I deserve this.

Loki pushes himself off the mattress, reaching to grab the bandages sent home from the medical wing. “Let me help you.” 

My face goes bright red. Fuck. In my proud insistence that Loki stay to atone for his mistake, I forgot that helping me might mean… this again. I tug up the bottom hem of my t-shirt, exposing the wound to the air. Loki furrows his brow, glancing between my face and the stitched-up gash. “You should've let me do this right away.” 

Oh, god. It's redder than ever, the skin puckered and inflamed around the black stitches. The shower and friction against my shirt have irritated it like crazy. I can feel my pulse in the bright red, raw edges.

I deserve this.

Loki gingerly lays gauze over the redness. The tips of his fingers brush against the skin just beneath it. My whole body shivers. He glances up, his face only inches from mine, before returning his diligent attention to his work. “Your hand is freezing,” I say quietly, hiding my embarrassment poorly. His hands are cold, but when his fingers brushed my bare skin...

“Sorry,” he mutters. A dark curl falls over his face as he holds one end of the long bandage roll over the gauze. The hem of my shirt slips from my fingertips, falling over the wound. “Hold still, darling.”

I barely fight the shiver that word sends through me. “Sorry,” I echo, barely breathing.

“Grey, are you… will you be… decent?” He stumbles around “are your tits out” as I nod hurriedly, though I instinctively pull my arms around my chest again. “I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to remove your shirt again.” I swear to God that he's smirking just slightly as he says it, avoiding eye contact with me the whole time.

“Of course,” I answer, painting my pinched voice with as much sarcasm as I can muster. Because this is a joke, right? It has to be a joke. “I managed to get a bra on after the shower… just in case, I guess.”

Loki frowns again. “That explains much of your miserable whimpering.” 

Oh. I didn't realize I'd been that loud.

“Just hold still,” he continues, brushing a hand against my waist. “Hold your arms up like earlier – yes, that's it,” he murmurs, tugging my shirt up and over my head. I'm sure every inch of my body has to be flushed pink by now. Not because I want him taking my clothes off. Absolutely not. No way. 

The little monster in the back of my head grins wickedly. Because you absolutely fucking do.

I tip my head back, unable to keep watching. That only makes it worse. Now I can feel him with alarming clarity, every nerve in my body focused on his tender touches. I'm blindingly aware of my thin, forest-green bralette – some soft cotton thing that I picked because of the color name, and not because I've come to love the color green – as it clings to my skin, delicately cupping my small breasts.

“I'm sorry if I'm hurting you,” Loki continues in a low, clenched voice. “I'll be done in a moment.”

“It doesn't hurt,” I breathe, trying to stay as still as possible. The bandage – and his arm – loop around me, wrapping completely around my torso until he can grip the other side.

He encircles me with his arms. I can’t breathe. 

Two long fingers press into my side, holding the cloth in place; I tip my head back, overwhelmed by the intimacy. His hands brush against my skin with every circle his hands make around my torso. 

Surely he can hear my heart thundering against the inside of my ribs. It threatens to rip through my stitches and burst out through that fresh opening. Loki’s fumbled slice weakened the dam; if I’m not careful, I’ll pour out through the torn seams. A lifetime of painstaking restraint wells up behind a crumbling levee. 

“All right.”

I tilt my head down. He's checking his handiwork, eyes downcast. Dark curls tumble forward as his head leans down, falling loose from their usual careful slicked-back style. I imagine myself brushing those curls back from his forehead, lifting his face to look at me, demanding he tell me exactly what he’s thinking. But nothing about my allyship with Loki has ever been so straightforward.

His impossibly broad left hand lightly rests against my right side, his long fingers stretched wide across my torso.

He lifts his eyes. The slight red remnants of his earlier outburst are fading, and the soulful eyes piercing my heart are so dark and ancient that I’m frozen in place. Some hint of a thought lingers on his slightly parted lips.

His dark eyebrows arch upward slightly; curiously. 

My jaw softens, my comment or quip long forgotten. He notices, and his gaze drops to my jaw. No; to my lips. Oh.

Loki tips his head forward, brushing his lips against mine. He’s soft and hesitant, achingly restrained. Cautious.

I catch his lower lip between my own, pushing into him. He hums contentedly. The sound rumbles deep in his chest. Oh.

He slides his hand down to brace against my back, pulling me forward ever so slightly. Cupping my jaw, his long fingers sliding into my hair and beneath my ear and I’m lighting up at every touch. I relax into him, his cool fingers perfect against my flushed skin. I wrap my arms around his neck and wind my fingers into his curls. They're exactly as soft as I imagined they would be.

I've wanted this for longer than I would admit to myself. I've wanted Loki for months, wondered how his hands would feel and his lips would taste and his hair would twist between my fingers. Every aching hour spent sparring with steel and fists and sharp words and barbed grins, my wolf among the woods, the predator sharpening his prey. 

My broken boy who burns the world just to spite the ashes. 

If Loki is a monster, then let us be monsters together.

[stupidthoughtsinwriting]

Try Again | Loki x OC

Chapter 1 - (Next Chapter) -(Chapter List) - (Main Masterlist)

Summary: Enjoying a holiday in Greece until a dreadful call changes it all...

Note: Ohhh I've posted it! okay, first of all, I am open to making a tag list to those interested, just tell me in the comments and I'll put you in. Two, this is the fastest fic i've finished and to me that's astonishing because as you may notice, most of my fics take me months to complete and in finishing this in a few nights is a feat to me. And third, understand that i am going back to class on Monday and thus i might not have as much time to update this as much but i promise i will be working on it and have patience with me. I am unreliable in consistency but I can promise results, even if the time is indefinite. The second chapter is in the works so bear with me and i hope you enjoy!

The sun rests low on the horizon, slowly dipping down amongst the waves. It turns the water a gorgeous shade of gold and the sky flies past in a flurry of bright and brilliant colours. Though as slow as the bright star sinks, it still let off a bit of heat. A welcoming warmth caressing the tanning skin of those still out, enjoying the last rays of the day before heading inside to avoid the chill night.

A child plays in the sand. Building castles of great architecture and collects shells and rocks of all forms and sizes, anything piquing his interests really. A bucket sat beside him and in it rests all his collected treasures. He uses some of the colourful shells and stones to decorate his castle, giving it colour amongst the muted tones of sand.

His mother sits not far from him, basking in the last of the heated rays before the inevitable task of packing up for the day. She watches her boy, clad only in his swim trunks, unruly obsidian curls bouncing at every movement as he fiddles and plays with his toys in the sand.

A warm yet solemn smile painted her thin lips as she watched over her young one, seeing features oh so similar to her husbands. From his ivory skin and up to his emerald eyes, their son was but a copy of his father. The spitting image save for the too few features he had of her, like the scattered bloom of freckles that decorated the bridge of his small nose and cheeks.

He also seems to have gotten mannerisms eerily similar that of his father, despite the brief and few memories he had of him in their short time. The pick at his hands and furrow that would rest on his brows whenever he was confused or sad was just so like her husbands. It brought an overwhelming need to be protect him from the dangers of the world, but she knew that as he grew, she won’t be able to protect him from everything and the best she could do was to teach him how to protect himself. But as of now, she would do just about everything to keep him safe.

Just as the sun began to descend the horizon, the boy abruptly stood up and walked over to where his mother lay beneath an umbrella, clutching tight on the offering he wished to show his mother.

‘Mama!’ he called out as he reached near her.

‘Yes, my darling?’ she replies warmly.

‘Wook at what I found mama’ he urged for her to look once he reached the tail end of her towel, plopping down on her lap, causing her to grunt at the sudden weight while he thrusts his hands to her face, the offering in question presented. She moves to sit up, the young boy still in her lap as she adjusted her position and lifts her Ray-Ban’s to her head so to properly see whatever it was he so wanted her to well, see.

In his small hands, lay a green sea stone. Big enough to dwarf the small hands of a child like his own yet still small in the eyes of others. It rests softly in her son’s palms, smooth surfaced, and tinted seafoam, she understood why it would pick at her son’s interest.

‘That is beautiful love’ she praises, earning a prideful look from the little boy, his chest puffing out as his grin stretched much like a Cheshire cat. It earned a hearty chuckle from the mother, watching her son’s actions. Joyous and confident, much like how his father was before.

‘May I?’ she asked and once a nod was returned, she plucked the stone from his hands, holding it up to the sky. She hoped that what was left of the day was enough for the light to pass through the translucent glass and it did. The stone glowed bright like the waters before them.

A look of awe shaped the boy’s face, his mouth hung open as he stared at the rock, but the mother’s gaze only strayed for a bit before turning back to her son. The look on his face made every hardship worth it and yet again, it brought another wide grin to her face.

Pressing a quick kiss to his temples, she gave the rock back to him and still, he stared at it as if it contained the hidden magic of the world. Taking the moment with his attention pre-occupied, she brushed away the sands stuck to his skin, from his face to his pale torso, she brushed away as much as she could, but the rest would have to be washed away when they get back to their room.

Speaking of which, she glanced at the sun, the sky a canvas of pinks, oranges and violets as the sun sunk down low enough and it now meant that it was time for them to pack up and head back inside.

Her gaze lingered in the horizon until a tiny voice called her back.

‘Mama’ the child called for her.

‘Yes dear?’

‘Do you think papa would wike this?’ he asked, turning her attention back to him. There had been few and brief times that his father was asked about and often this was the question asked. The other times he’d ask were always of his father’s character. Stories of the man were told and a picture of him was kept among the boy’s things as a remembrance, but it had been a long while since he’s asked of him again.

She stared at the orbs identical to her son’s fathers and she couldn’t help but think of him. His charming smile, his careful touch, his loving gaze, and intoxicating smell. She longed to be back in his once safe arms, but she couldn’t, and that truth is to be accepted.

‘Yes he would luv’ she answers. The truth was, knowing her husband, he’d love anything and everything their little boy gave him. From a messily drawn card for Father’s Day and his birthdays down to a piece of cereal the boy had been eating, the man would have been grateful for anything his boy gave him.

 ‘Bwilliant’ he murmurs, and she just knows he will keep it safely stashed amongst the other things he thinks his father would like. It warmed her heart to have a son so kind and giving. It made her proud that he was growing up to be as so and she just hoped her husband would be as well.

‘Alright darling, we have to go pack up now. Go get your stuff and then we can go back to the room so you can have a bath and then dinner’ she explains to the young boy, tucking away the curtain of curls that hid his face behind his ears before cupping his cheek and giving his little button nose a kiss, causing him to giggle in her hold, his face scrunching up. ‘Alright?’

‘Okay mumma’ he nodded to her command and set off to get his toys and treasures from the sand. Watching him pick up his stuff, she began to pack up as well. Tidying up the drinks and towel she had brough and place them in her bag before brushing off the bit of sand that stuck to her skin before putting on the blue summer dress atop her swimsuit for when they head back to their room.

The boy trudged back to her with a heavy bucket in hand and his kiddie camera slung around his neck. The bucket nearly overfilled with all the stones and shells he collected, along with the beach toys he used to make the castle.

Dropping it with a heavy grunt, the boy huffed and puffed at the exertion, causing his mother to stifle a laugh yet still a sound managed to escape, her hand immediately flying to muffle the sound but seeing it went unnoticed, she relaxed and dropped it.

‘A bit heavy love?’ she asks.

‘A wot heavy’ he says, emphasizing the word like a true drama king. Wonder who he got that from?

‘Alright. Now, do you want to wear a shirt before we go back?’ she asks, offering him the top he wore earlier.

‘No tank you’ he declines, shaking his head.

‘Alrighty then’ she puts his shirt back in the bag before slinging it on her left shoulder and picking up the castle shaped bucket (which did weigh a lot, no wonder her son was left panting) with her left hand. Her right: out in offering for the young boy to hold as they slowly walked back to their hotel.

‘Did you have fun today?’ the mother asked as the walked along the beach.

‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ he shouted in enthusiasm, jumping up and down. The mother could only smile at the boy’s joyous behaviour, glad that she could give him fun memories to look back on.

The rest of their walk was filled with conversation about what the new thing’s he discovered about the sea life, the castle he so artistically constructed and the promise of coming back here another day and by the time they reached the lobby of the resort, the mother could see how the exhaustion of the day was taking a toll on her little boy.

‘Ahh, Miss Ackland’ Mr Birch, the evening manager greeted from behind the reception ‘good day I presume?’ he questions, noting how tuckered out her normally energetic son was started to sag against her. With a brief glance to the boy and a small chuckle, she nodded.

‘Yes, it was good day. Especially for this one’ she replies, rubbing a thumb over the hand in her grasp, hoping to at least rouse the child until he’s eaten dinner.

The man chuckles a bit, seeing how unresponsive the boy is to her attempts. ‘My, the young tyke seems real knackered.’ he comments with an accent much like her own yet the way the words flow so smoothly would have anyone wrapped in a trance,

‘Yes well, all day out in the beach seems to do that’ she responds politely.

‘Well, best not keep you from your young one and leave you to it. Have a nice evening miss.’ he bids her well off with a gentle smile that would leave any woman with a common-sense to a puddle, yet she has her immunity, and she powered through with it.

‘Actually, would you mind sending some food to our room in 15, 20 minutes? We haven’t had the chance to get some dinner and I’m hoping to feed at least a little into him before he’s off for the night.’ She requests of the manager, really wishing to at least have her boy a few bites before going dead to the world.

‘Certainly miss.’ He dutily responds, already picking up a phone to call the kitchen ‘Just the usual ma’am?’  he asks of the meal, turning to her with the phone to his ear.

‘Yes, that would be lovely. Thank you Mr. Birch’ she says with a kind grin, faintly hearing his conversation as mother and son walked away.

‘Yes, to the Amphitrite suite in fifteen minutes… Thank you’.

---

Once the pair arrived back to their room, the sun had finally set, casting a now dark canvas, littered with twinkling stars, though it went unnoticed to the weary boy who had let go of his mothers’ hand as soon as they entered and dropped with a thud on the chalk white cushions once he was near enough while his mother, Ms. Ackland, relieved herself of the heavy weight she had been trudging since the beach.

‘Leo’ she called to the boy softly, opting to not chastise the young one when he was already weary. ‘Come on darling. Quick bath and some dinner then off to bed, sleepy head’

‘But I’m not sleepy’ he whined, an indicator of his true predicament, even as he refuses.

‘Well, a quick wash and some supper then’ she bargained even though she knew he’d out like a light by halfway through dinner and when she received no response, she added ‘and we’ll also wash up the shells and rocks you collected, and you can sort through them after.’ And with that, his head shot up, his curls bobbing as he ran (well more speed walk than run) with what energy he had left to her side, awaiting for her instructions and wanting to get his bucket of treasures so he could wash them.

With the young one finally clean and sand free, dressed in his favourite dark blue pyjamas, they set off to the sitting room portion of the suite, just in time for room service to arrive with their supper. Since Leo had his attention to his rocks and shells (fully washed and draining on a colander borrowed from the hotel), his mother was the one that had gone to get the food, still wearing her blue summer dress since there wasn’t enough time for her to get cleaned herself but she planned on doing so after her little boy had gone to bed.

She thanked the room service and closed the door of the suite before fixing up the plate of food and brought it to where little Leo was pre-occupied, seemingly sorting the rocks by colour and size on the towel laid out before him while he let the shells dry out in the colander a little bit longer. She sat beside him, setting the plate a good distance away from his work area and began to feed her little man.

The rest of that time had been quiet, save for the thud of rocks on the whitewashed coffee table and the occasional murmur to open his mouth so the mother could feed him bites of the pork Souvlaki. In between bites, she’d offer her opinion, helping out a bit on his activity but not once has he said anything. Only responding in nods and a shake of his head, another symptom of his fatigue and true to her word, with the plate half cleared, she noticed the lack of hands working through the rocks and a weight leaning on her. Turning her head, she found the boy sound asleep, a rock he had been looking at still in his grasp but the lack of movement and the slow and steady breaths he let out was enough for her to know.

Pushing the plate aside, she carded a hand through his curls, making him curl up more beside her and all that did was take her back to when it was her husband that did the same thing. Head on her lap, she would comb through his raven locks and all that would do was press a face farther onto her stomach, arms wrapping around her waist so he could pull her closer.

This was most endearing when she has pregnant. Her beloved would whisper to her belly in a hushed tone. Her hand, as always, in his head of hair and when her nails would start to scratch at his scalp, a content sigh always left him before he burrowed in the warm mass of her stomach.

Thinking back, those were near the last good moments she had of just the two of them. A loving husband, doting and caring to his beloved wife as the two prepared the arrival of their little one. So cheery and full of life, once was he and now all she could help but do is miss those moments, let alone the man he was back then.

After a small while, the mother took the boy in her arms and having done this so many times before, it was an instant that the boy instinctively wraps himself in his mothers’ hold, arms circling her neck, legs locking behind her as he laid his little head to her chest, right over where her heart beat a rhythm that often lulled him to sleep. She planted a kiss at the top of his head, right on his unruly curls at she took him to the bedroom.

Laying him down in the middle of the queen-sized bed, she laid with him for a bit to make sure he would no longer stir before carefully untangling herself from his hold. She propped some of the pillows beside him, just to make sure he wouldn’t move to far to edge and fall and covered him with his blankie before deciding it was enough and she left the room, shutting the door quietly.

Taking a survey of the suite, she figured on tidying up and finishing what was left of supper before taking a shower herself, wanting to be rid of the day’s clothes and into her own pyjamas while she indulged on some wine in the balcony.

Nearly giddy at the thought, she set off in doing so and half an hour later, she emerges from the ensuite in fresh clothes, warmed somewhat by a thin green cardigan she put over.

The mother then set off to the kitchenette where a good bottle of wine chilled in the mini fridge. Now without any distractions or hesitation, she took a wine glass the concierge so kindly provided, and poured herself a hearty amount, tasting the aged, fermented juice and relishing at the thought of getting lost from her head for a few hours after a glass or two.

With the glass near empty, it was then that she remembered that she hasn’t even touched her phone nearly the whole day and seeing it sat on the counter, with a quick reach, she had it in her hand. She wasn’t surprised of the lack of notifications, so she set it down and finished the last of her glass’s contents. What did surprise her though was the call that connected a minute later, the familiar name on the ID catching her unexpectedly.

She answered the call before it dropped, wanting to hear from the man after a while of no contact.

‘Thor’ she starts, putting the phone to her ear as she poured herself another glass. ‘Long time’

‘Yeah, um. It has, hasn’t it?’ his deep voice grumbles through the phone’s speaker.

‘Five months to be exact’ she clarifies, bringing the glass to her lips and takes a sip.

‘Sorry, it’s just…’ he started to explain himself, but she cuts him off.

‘No. Don’t, don’t do that. Don’t say that. I could have called but I didn’t, and I am as much to blame’ she clarifies, regretting making the comment when she didn’t want to take apologies when she was just as much at fault as he was.

‘Right, alright. Um, where’s little Leo?’ he asks, diverting the conversation to the boy so to get out of that uncomfortable subject. 

‘Ohh, he’s already in bed. Sorry. Had a long day’.

‘Wow, that early. It’s just a little before nine. Usually, he’d still be very active. Well from what I can remember that is.’ The blond man chuckles, remembering the nights he’d spend with the very energetic child.

‘Actually, it’s about ten before 11 here.’

‘Her- Wudduya mean here? Aren’t you in town?’ the man asks, clearly very confused and he sounds it and that is her fault.

‘Ohh, were in Santorini on holiday. Sorry, I haven’t informed anyone really and I would have you but-’ you haven’t called, and I couldn’t make the call myself the last bit went unsaid but the both of them knew.

‘Oh, okay. Alright.’ He pauses for a while, leaving a pregnant silence to fill until he did. ‘Well, is it good there?’

‘Very’ she responds immediately, uncomfortable by that gap. ‘it’s beautiful. The water, the architecture, the culture, the people, it’s absolutely wonderful.’ She describes, looking to the balcony where there was a perfect view of the sea. ‘Leo’s enjoying himself too. Playing in the beach all day, making sandcastles and he collects shells and rocks that take his interest and earlier he went about to sorting them, but the little man fell asleep halfway into dinner. Too worn out from the day to even finish his sorting.’ She giggles a bit, remembering how the little boy looked all curled up beside her.

‘Seems like you’re having a good time.’ The man responds, a bit despondent but she didn’t hear that.

‘We are.’ She says with a bit of pride ‘we are’ she repeats though this time she’s uncertain and dejected because a part of her is guilty. For actually having a good time and without the man she loves. And another part.. just wants him. To be here with them. To enjoy this with them but, we can’t have all we want now can we.

She faintly heard someone talking, someone angry and that was followed by the sound of the phone shuffling before she heard Thor again.

‘Sorry Em, could you hold for a minute?’ he requests, and she answers back yes but before she could ask anymore, he mutes.

She put the phone on speaker and set it down, taking a gulp of her wine and as promised, after a minute, he came and called her back.

‘I’m back. You still there?’

‘Yah’ she manages before swallowing her drink ‘still here. Everything alright?’ she asks, wondering who it was that was so angry (though she should have known).

‘Yeah. Everything’s just fine’ he replies, sounding out breath.

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah, absolutely. Terrific’ he says with far too much cheer, it annoyed her enough to know it was fake.

‘Thor.’ She says firmly, setting her glass down the marble counter ‘What’s going on?’ she demands sternly, using the voice she rarely would use to chastise Leo with when on bad behaviour, not wanting some half-arsed answer.

Again, a long of silence stretched on until with a heavy sigh, he began.

‘He’s in hospital again.’ He confesses and she shakes her head, knowing well who he meant. Irritated was she, evidently enough to pick up her glass and divide its contents into half.

‘He’s always in hospital’ she replies after swallowing, swirling the liquid around the glass and she watches in fascination, wanting to get her head from what he just said.

‘No. This is different.’ He presses, knowing the times he’s said this before were for minor and abrasive accounts.

‘What do you mean?’ she pesters, her voice now wobbly as a burst of possibilities swirled in her head.

‘He um- ‘he stops himself, swallowing the hard pill because knowing her, telling her this would only tear her apart. ‘He rang me earlier.’ That enough was a giveaway that something was wrong, the severity was the only missing piece. ‘He was in pain, and he could barely let out anything before he dropped the phone and groaned in agony.’ Her breathing hitched then, tears welling her eyes while her hand flew to her mouth. ‘I got to him as soon as I could, and when I found him, he was on the floor, in pain’ He hated repeating that but all he could do was relay the accounts of what happened as it was still all so fresh and hope he could filter it as much as possible. ‘I called for an ambulance and tried to get him to tell me what was happening, but he couldn’t even respond’ he chokes, remembering the sight and it flashes before his eyes, as if he was reliving the whole painful ordeal again.

Emma on the other hand, had tears quietly running her cheeks, hand still tightly clasped to her mouth for fear she would let out a sob that would not only alert Thor but Leo as well. Her mind ran rampant, creating images and images of her pained husband, lying helplessly in pain on the floor, asking for help to no one because of his solitude. Not knowing if he there was anyone coming at all.

Guilt held a tighter grip on her breaking heart as her mind convinced herself that it was her fault that he was alone. She should have been there. She shouldn’t have left. She should have taken care of him and maybe he wouldn’t be where he was if it she had just stayed and cared for him. But she didn’t and she wasn’t there when he was helplessly lying on the ground, wondering if the last thing he’d see was the dirt and bottles that undoubtedly littered the floors around him instead of his beloved wife and darling son.

She swallowed back the sob itching to escape her lips, desperate on not making a sound.

Her mind was taking a turn in the labyrinth it already was, taking her to unknown ends of painful scenarios her unyielding mind procures when she still doesn’t have the pieces to the whole story.

A creep of silence then went on for the benefit of both. Time for them to compose themselves before the once boisterous man continued.

‘The ambulance-’ he begins once more, though demurely ‘-arrived quickly. And they took him to the hospital immediately, seeing the state he was. Even the doctors didn’t know what was happening to him, but they gave him morphine for the pain.’ He somewhat assures and it relieves her a bit knowing he wasn’t in pain anymore. ‘They let him rest for a bit before they took him for tests. He’s resting now though. They’re keeping him for the night under observation but there was talk that the stay might be indefinite until they figured out what was wrong. Just in case another attack happened but you know him’ he teases lightly, not wanting to drown in the dampening mood this whole conversation, hell this whole ordeal has taken and neither did she so, she appreciates the lightening.

And she also knew what he meant. Her husband hated hospitals. Even stepping one foot inside churned his insides enough and being a patient? We’ll she knew enough to give her an idea of what happened.

It didn’t help her to think of his reaction to being told that he had to stay the night. Scared as he might have already been, the prospect of staying even longer undoubtedly terrified him and thus she concluded that he refused the longer stay.

Thinking of it, the only time he was at some sort of ease while in the hospital was when they took baby Leo for his newborn check up and even then he was anxious. The check-up had been a necessary. Just to assure the new parents that their little one was alright and properly checked on since a homebirth lacked that formality. The man himself had been the one to insist on the homebirth and Emma didn’t object to that, wanting to give the man a sort of peace as they brought their child to the world. His fears only eased once the doctor told them that everything is just as it should be about their newborn and there and only then did he relax as he rejoice on the fact that they had a health baby boy.

That clued her enough of his fear of hospitals and that information didn’t help her at all now.

‘The doctors are coming back in the morning for the results but after that, he insists on leaving’ he continuous to inform her, wary of her lack of response.

She hasn’t said anything since the start of his recount. Not a sound could be heard from her end of the line, and it unnerve him, making him check to see if the call was still on and it was. It took him a few good minutes, but he deduced why she was so silent.

He knew his sister well and the things he’s regaled to her… he just knew it was breaking her being apart.

‘Emma’ he called out, wanting to be sure he was still taking to someone. ‘you still there?’

‘yah’ she muttered, barely audible but he heard.

She had sunken to the floor, leaning against the counters as she pulled her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she silently cried. Her phone still sat atop the island, her call with her brother-in-law still ongoing yet there she was, listening, tears running her cheeks as she listened to him describe the torment her beloved endured.

‘He needs you’ the man murmurs, pleading for his brother’s sake that she come back. He knew his little brother wouldn’t take it if these pains continued on and he feared the day he would give up. And without the person he loves most, the person that had been his solace long before, his rock and home, he is terrified of that end coming too soon.

The woman could only swallow at the man’s words before clamping a hand on her mouth and burying her head to her knees as an unrelenting sob escapes her. She had no control of it and the others that followed but she did have control of how loud they would come to so she did her best to make as little sound as she possibly could.

Try as she did though, Thor heard her. Muffled as it was, he knew that sound better than he liked to admit and not once did his heart break not break for her every time.

‘just… please come back’ he begs her once more, intending to end the call and leave her to some privacy. He stays on for a bit longer and just as he was about to press the end button, she called out to him, saying his name in an unsteady voice, congested and clear that she had been crying.

Two days she wanted to say. Give her two days and she would do everything she could to be there as soon as possible but what left her mouth wasn’t so. ‘Take care of him for me’ she pleads her own, on the brink of another fit of sobs but she held on till the call ended.

‘Always’ he responds before ending the call and with that her resolve crumbles.

Once again, her hand flies to cover her mouth, going in to cover and muffle the onslaught of sobs she had no hope of controlling but… they never came. Whether it was for some preservation for Leo’s deep sleep or her sudden inability to, they never come. What took its place though was a rush of tears and a heavy heart.

Leaning back on the limewashed cupboards, she let her tears run and her heart sink for she thought she deserved it. The guilt eating at her from the inside. Churning her stomach to knots and crushing her heart to shreds. It manipulated her. Turning her to the villain at the heart of this mess when she had done nothing but protect herself and her son from the tragedy that was once a happy family.

Her mind was a cruel and fickle thing. Making her believe the lies it comes up with and without the one person who knew how to lead her out of the labyrinth, she was lost. Facing every new dreaded possibility at every dead end without escape or clue on how to get out because the person that always led her to the exit, became the reason she was lost and missed it.

She didn’t blame him though. Despite what the others do, not once did she blame the poor tortured soul of her husbands’ because how could she. She could have helped him and stayed by him, just as she vowed but breaking that promise lost her the right to blame, not that she would.

In sickness and in health… clearly she didn’t hold her promise on that.

She drew her knees back to her chest, letting her heart wrench while a hand rose to reach for the bottle of wine that still sat on the bench. Once she got that down, Emma took a big swig right out of the bottle, never minding the glass she used before. Her only goal. To suffer and hope she’d be numb enough to stop the tears from flowing.

And that’s how she spent the rest of the night. Sat on the kitchenette floor of her suite, back against the cupboards as she let her tears dry out while burning a bottles’ worth of wine through her liver, letting her guilt and sorrow drape over her as it would a child under a tablecloth on Halloween.

(Next Chapter) -(Chapter List) - (Main Masterlist)

[dark-roleplay-finder]

🐍🕊️

Hi everyone! My name is Amber and I’m 18 years old. My pronouns are she/her and it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these but I’ve rewatched all the Harry Potter movies and I’m kinda obsessed all over again. So long story short I’m just looking for some fellow Harry Potter roleplayers! I’m just craving to write pls someone😭😩 I’ve got so many ideas in my head and they won’t go away ahhaha.

I write on discord and I usually go past/ up to the 2,000 word limit on there! I’m detailed and add characterisation and detail to all the characters I play. I can play multiple characters and I’m comfortable with almost everything! I like writing smut but it’s not necessary, and I prefer dark themes but I also love fluff, angst ect ect. I love talking about our characters and sending things that make us think about our characters back and forth. I’m Oc friendly and love Oc x cc! I only double up as I am able to write more that way and the rp doesn’t die out that way. I also love having multiple threads but it’s not necessary!! Other things I absolutely love are stranger things, Harry styles, don’t worry darling, fresh, marvel and so many other things! Those are also the other fandoms I’m willing to do but there are more so feel free to ask if you want! I’d also love for someone to play draco for me but I’d also be willing to play draco for you too!

Here are the fandoms I do and the characters I’m comfortable with playing- they’ll be in bold and the ones I’m most interested in playing will have a star next to them:

Harry Potter: Fred Weasley*, George Weasley*, Cedric diggory*, Tom riddle*, Ron Weasley, Harry Potter, ginny Weasley, Hermione granger, Snape, Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Bellatrix, neville longbottom, Seamus and many more!

Marvel: Tony stark, Steve Rogers*, Bucky barnes*, the winter soldier* Clint, Bruce banner, Thor, Loki*, Peter Parker, Wanda, Natasha and many more!

Stranger things: Henry creel/001, Vecna*, Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson*, Billy Hargrove*, Nancy wheeler, Mike wheeler, will Byers, Dustin Henderson, Jason carver, Chrissy Cunningham, eleven, argyle, Jonathan Byers, Jim hopper and lots more!

Don’t worry darling: Jack chambers, Frank, Alice

Fresh: Steve, noa

The walking dead: Rick grimes, Shane Walsh, Carl grimes, Negan, Dwight, Abraham, Glenn, Maggie, Beth and tons more!

I also do celebs and everything! If any of this interests you feel free to like this post and I’ll get back to you!! Thank you so much!(:

Like this post and the asker will reach out!

[belushiii]

“Life sentence”

Oc! x Robbie Reyes.

Summary: Based on the first volumes of the comic “Avengers: The final host (2018)”. Next to defeating a group of celestials who threatened to destroy the earth under Loki's leadership, the Avengers reunite once again, along with a new member, Robbie Reyes.

After winning the battle, they establish a base located at the North Pole, inside the body of a dead celestial, willing to serve as Avengers again, however, one of them refused to actively participate as one. Doctor Stephen Strange was discharged and that arose a conflict between the six remaining Avengers. Who will take Doctor Strange's place?

They couldn't afford to have any weaknesses in the team, they needed all the power and strength that was at their disposal. T'challa, as the new leader, decided to take the first step and looked for a new recruit…

Content Warning: Rape/Non-con Elements. Past Rape/Non-con. Blood and Violence, Blood and Gore, Graphic Depictions of wounds (All of this is because of BJ's power type). Eventual Romance. Heavy Angst. Angst and Tragedy. Daddy Issues. Childhood Trauma. Love Triangles. Implied/Referenced self-Harm. vulgar language. Misogyny. Mental Health issues. Enemies to Lovers. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD. Eventual smut.

Words - 4.9k

A/n: FINALLY I've translated this thing, as you know english isn't my first language so this may have one than other mistake. I'm gonna split it into several chapters because it's very very veeery long, but I promise I'll be posting it all. Please pay attention to the tags.

Chapter one: Rage

It was known that they were short in terms of power after Strange decided not to formalize his role as Avenger. A pretty low blow on the team; despite being strong and having victoriously shattered several celestials in their first mission together, T'challa, the leader, understood that much more was needed for the next fight, should one come. And that was precisely the problem, predicting when the next one would come was practically impossible.

They couldn't hope to save the world by a miracle this time, like months ago, when Reyes arrived at the scene unexpectedly. They had to have all the power they could get their hands on, an ace up their sleeve just in case the fussy Stephen Doctor Strange refused to leave his beloved sanctuary in the midst of a world emergency and found it more charming to tinker with his stupid little magic tricks, (that was the opinion of an angry Black Panther) rather than fight along the Avengers.

So, T'challa contacted Danvers, Danvers contacted Fury, Fury contacted S.H.I.E.L.D. And S.H.I.E.L.D informed Coulson.

The agent had been very busy with a huge new project during the past three months, something that until now had been a unique secret known only by the organization and their highest rank members. Absolutely no one else had the slightest idea of what the man was doing. Traveling every day to different continents of the world in a helicarrier with private staff and very high level security measures. It seemed that he was cautiously following the tracks of ghost people; That is, people who sought to hide from the world, from the law.

But Coulson wasn't stupid, certainly, he wasn't looking for something that didn't serve S.H.I.E.L.D. He wasn't hunting mere human beings. The regular government doesn't have information about it, but S.H.I.E.L.D does. So, through a large collection of data provided by trained spies, security cameras and really good witnesses, in the most remote suburbs of each region of the entire earth, more than one of these people could be found.

When they located the first one, the truth was finally made public, the name of the project was "Life sentence". Coulson was tracking down and gathering the most potentially dangerous inhuman criminals to ever walk on this world, all those who for their crimes were condemned to death by the world government itself.

Coulson made sure that S.H.I.E.L.D funded a project that would endorse a more useful second chance, both for the world and for the death row inmates. Fury vouched for him, at first finding the enormous amount of faith Phil had in humanity ridiculous, but he couldn't stop admiring his determination, so he supported him throughout the process. Though they did have difficulties. Some of the found recruited criminals were uncooperative. But for some reason the second one wasn’t, they were firm and loyal, the way they acted made others believe that being part of the project was the best option they had, even if it was an act to keep everyone under control. But that somehow inspired the rest, so everyone followed them as a leader.

Phil was so relieved by that, because out of the twenty-four they had found so far… that one was the most dangerous, a high-risk inhuman. They tracked them down in a slum in New Mexico, a dangerous area known for the bloody drug cartels led without any weight of law. It was no drama for that inhuman to have been in the middle of the crossfire of the cartels without any kind of reinforcement or weapons, because at the end… who had caused a disaster of blood and death when S.H.I.E.L.D arrived... was just them.

That's how it all started, inhuman criminals who had been recruited by the organization to become agents of S.H.I.E.L.D, a new support team labeled as "Biological Weapons" whose death sentence would be postponed as long as the individuals are willing to collaborate.

The agreements they had to follow when they signed to be part of the project was the next:

• They had to be at S.H.I.E.L.D's full disposal twenty-four hours a day, every day, without complaint.

• They had to be monitored always. Although to give them some privacy (they’re still humans after all) they would only wear a tracker fabricated in the form of a bracelet, made of vibranium and Stark’s nanotechnology.

• The criminal life had to be left behind, their duty as support forces was simply that, serve as support. No raping. No stealing, no injuring or killing if it’s not extremely necessary.

Anyone who breaks these three rules will be stripped of the agreement that protects them and will once again be treated by S.H.I.E.L.D and the world government as a criminal whose death sentence is the death penalty.

...

"Alright, so it's a bunch of criminal killers then". That was the conclusion Robbie took from everything T'challa had just explained to the six of them in the conference room, with the objective of making the avengers understand that he was trying to find a new owner for Strange's seat, which was empty as always.

"Uh... Yes and no, let's just say they were criminals in the past, but now, under the pesky guard of S.H.I.E.L.D they can't do anything to hurt anyone anymore. And that includes us". Tony was drinking a cold fancy latte from a ridiculous large straw as he disinterestedly explained the subject. His feets were crossed rudely over the table while he leaned back on his own chair at the same time. He didn't care about Reyes' annoyance at all. "Like an obligatory redemption arc or something". He said, letting go the straw out of his mouth so he could shake the cup slightly and drink the rest of what was left, doing an irritating sipping noise in the process that made Robbie fuss from his place.

" It’s more like some kind of… Life sentence?”. Carol added herself to the deck of examples, playing with the words. “And yeah, Stark’s right, if they want to keep their heads stuck to the rest of their bodies they better be good girlies and boys".

"Or thems". Thor included himself into the conversation. "Don't you forget about our non-binary friends around Midgard, one of these unworthy criminals could be more comfortable using neutered pronouns. We must respect".

"Yes, Thor, they too, sorry". Carol answered.

"it's neutral, not neutered". Jennifer corrected.

“No way... Danvers proving me right? Did anyone recorded that by chance? I've to let the world know this happened at least once”. The philanthropist joked. Carol rolled her eyes, she couldn't stand anyone in this table today.

Robbie didn't even tried to hide his displeasure, he was really frustrated and also carrying the weight of an exhausting long week over his back, this news didn't help at all.

Steve noticed that and decided to ask the boy his opinion on the subject, or well, get at least one more elaborated answer. His reaction from the beggining was more than enough to know what he really thought about all of this. "Robbie, you know we're a little bit complicated with Stephens's absence..." The cap tested the ground first, not wanting to bomb him with direct questions.

"I know". Robbie interrupted him, defensively. Steve shouted his mouth and allowed the boy speak, the rest of the six paid attention to whatever he had to say. Reyes could be terrifying when he starts smoking being angry, and they didn't want that to be the case right now. "That's not the problem here. You can bring all the criminals you want to the base and keep them as pets without any problem, but not with me being around". He glanced at Tony sideways with a frown, the millionaire man settled properly in his chair immediately, almost falling in the attempt.

"Robbie..." Carol wanted to say something, but the latino didn't let her.

"No, no. It's easy for you, but it's not for me. Did all of you just forgot who the hell I am?". The anger in his voice was starting to make more than one nervous there, he was losing his temper and the heat in the room was rising quickly, Captain America and Thor discreetly raised their guard. "It's not like I can control it, I made a deal with it. Any type of criminal scum that gets in my way and it doesn't like will end up reduced to ash or having their entire nervous system removed from their bodies".

"Easy, Reyes" T'challa tried to calm the teenager, failing like the others, he began to regret his decision a little, after seeing him so anxious, but this was certainly the only resource they had at hand at the moment, he definitely would not waste the opportunity. And he knew that Robbie needed to train more so he could master the Rider better. So he killed two birds with one stone. T’challa was confident that the result would be good. It had to, they just had to work at it.

"Don't do that, don’t try to calm me down, I have a fucking spirit of vengeance stuck to my ass. If you were going to invite me to be an avenger the least you could’ve done was keep in mind what I am". Robbie stood up, ready to leave the room. Thor, who was sitting next to him the entire time, did the same and tried to stop him by grabbing his forearm.

"Don't make this so hard, young rider of ghosts, it'll be better if you cooperate with us". The Asgardian spoke, firmly, searching to intimidate the boy. But to Robbie that meant fucking nothing, he was so damn angry and sad, not even a huge blonde Asgardian would be able to ease the overflowing rage he kept in the deeps of his chest.

Robbie clicked his tongue and turned over his own back, he glared at the taller man, then he made burn the part of his body where Thor's fingers were perched and he immediately let go. The grimace of pain in Thor's face satisfied the young man’s annoyance at having the blonde touching him without his permission. Robbie finally walked out of that situation, stepping directly to the huge door that was in the middle of the room, he was trying with all his might not to lose the last drops of composure he had, his body were already smoking without him not realizing.

"Reyes, please don't be like this". Danvers shouted at him, trying to change his mind, but Robbie ignored her, that comment made him even angrier. Was he being treated like an hysterical brat? He wasn't like Stephen, all he just wanted was someone to understand him, to know that he’s still in conflict with himself because of his new nature, and that he didn’t want to put others or even himself at risk because of his notorious lack of control. If he was leaving at least he had a good reason for it.

After all, he got stuck in this situation of mutual dependence with Elias Morrow recently. Until now he'd only limited himself to fight local drug dealers and criminals from his neighborhood in Hillrock Heights, but the battle that he and the rest of the avengers had with the final host? He proved right there that he had much more power than expected. He doesn't know his potential, and he can't train a power he's not even sure he wants… But it was also true that he can't expect others to understand him when he doesn't even understand himself. That was what he thought, what his heart longed to put into words but couldn't find the oportunity.

"Leave him, Carol". Stark sighed, "I think flamey is right, this may be a really bad idea".

"You should’ve told me that before I said yes to Coulson today". Danvers answered, unbothered as always. She folded his arms watching the young man leave.

Everyone looked at her at the same time with their jaws almost wide open.

"Danvers, what the-!?". Tony jumped out of his chair and threw himself at the blonde, snatching her by the collar of his suit like a desperate annoying brat. But Captain Marvel knew that Stark was being hysterical on purpose just to get into her nerves. He really didn't stand a chance with her if it came to challenging her hand-to-hand, so she let him do whatever, it didn’t matter now. "You think you make all the important decision around here?"

"Pretty much I do, yeah" The woman responded again in the same unbothered voicetone. Stark took a deep breath and exhaled it in a very long sigh. When he was ready to open his mouth again the discussion got interrupted by the sound of the metallic creak of the big principal door opening.

Everyone looked over it hoping that it was only Reyes finally leaving.

But it wasn’t

"Oh, what a nice welcome".

"Qué...?"

A girl he'd never seen before, standing in front of him. She almost bumped into him from how close he was to getting out there, she even ended up with her hands resting over Robbie's chest to avoid an expected collision between the two. Reyes glanced at her up and down quickly, to search on his memory record if he had seen her before at the base. The answer was no. Her appearance was too flashy and out of the ordinary, he would have noticed her at any point.

Her tempting body, almost naked, was covered in healed scars, and her wine-red long hair was tied in a messy bun, but it looked cute on her. If he had a cold mind right now he’d say out loud to her that she was the prettiest girl he has ever seen.

She gave him a flirty smile that caught his attention back again, those big puffy lips dyed the same color as her hair were difficult to ignore. Robbie knew she wasn't from here, she wasn't even a hero, he didn't have to ask her to confirm it because Morrow started saturating his ears like an automatic annoying fucking non-stop car alarm.

"I can smell blood on her, Robbie, she's not innocent at all, you'd better kill her before she steals your job".

"Would you shut your mouth for a minute?" He grunted loudly, answering Eli. He realized after it that he spoke out loud in front of her so he quickly took a step back away from her. She moved forward without hesitation, she made herself space into the room, walking straight towards him and cornering him against the void on his back.

The rest of the avengers were looking in silence, standing, waiting for what she would do next, but she didn't even notice them, her eyes were totally nailed on the boy in front of her.

"Shut my mouth?" She repeated what Robbie said before, tilting her head to the side but still staring at him. The latino felt his body shudder, this girl didn't have any kind of sparkle in her eyes, they were totally dead. And her presence felt so crushing, so dangerous. It was intimidating even for a Ghost Rider.

"I don't... It's not..." He stuttered. What was happening to him? Not less than a minute ago he was burning with anger... And now he was stuttering?

"You're scared to death, brat". Eli provoked him.

"I'm not". He whispered loudly again, closing his eyes tightly. He shook his head, trying to silence the spirit's annoying voice, but he couldn't. It was impossible to get rid of it.

"You're talking to Morrow." She assured, lifting her chin slightly in a single nod of affirmation. She understood what was going on, she read the situation too quickly.

"What? Wait, how do you know!?" Robbie asked, scared.

"Oh, she knows me, forget everything I said, I already like her". The spirit of Vengeance was clearly being sarcastic. It only contradicted itself with everything it said, the only purpose of it was to confuse Robbie so it could drive him to his own madness and take advantage to control his body and do God knows what, this was a perfect example of how the plan was working for it. Eli was a born manipulator and could make Robbie lose his patience very easily.

The girl smiled at the reaction of the boy, knowing she was right, she walked out of the way of the avenger with the audacity of a cat, passing close by his side, focused more on analyzing the room than answering him. It was huge and metallic, full of lights. She paced curiously over her own steps, looking at both the ceiling and floor. Robbie turned around and followed her with his eyes. "Maybe Blaze told me something about it". She finally responded.

The rest of the Avengers were expectative at their interaction. "you know Blaze!?". Reyes didn't even tried to hide the surprise in his voice tone, much less the confused expression on his face. She looked over her shoulders and winked at him. Robbie felt sick just by thinking what that wink meant mixed with the old and alcoholic Blaze he knew, together.

"Don't just stand there like a dumbass, move, do something, she's making fun of you!"

Eli's voice kept echoing in his head. Robbie certainly didn't know what to do. He was so damn confused. So much had happened in such a short time. Who was she? How did she know about Eli? How did she meet Blaze?

"You're the Agent Rojas, if I'm not wrong". Finally, after five long minutes of an awkward silence, Stark's charismatic voice echoed in the room, that eased the tension of the rest of the group.

"Yeah, huh... I asked Phil if he could take me out to get some fresh air, I was suffocating in that damned helicarrier. Do you know what it's like to live next to 23 men? fucking stinky".

"Oh, believe me we do". Carol said as she finally smacked Stark away from her.

"Anyway, seems like he took it literally ‘cause I ended up in the middle of the fucking North Pole." Her sarcastic tone felt like the stab of thirty daggers together, but they hurt really good. Tony was the first one to fall for it. He walked away from Danvers and approached her with open arms to properly welcome her to the team.

"Well, I hope you get used to the cold 'cause you're gonna stay here for a good, good, good time". The millionaire grabbed her by her bare waist and squeezed shamelessly, playing along with her sarcasm, though he wasn't entirely lying about what he said.

She could swear that a nerve inside her exploded when she felt the millionaire's filthy fingers sliding over her lower back. She thought carefully about what to do before answering him because she perfectly knew that S.H.I.E.L.D had her under greater surveillance than the other twenty-three recruits, and it wasn't a good thing if in one of her first big missions she slit the throat of Tony Stark himself. So she planned well what to do next and gently bit her lower lip, batting her long black lashes at him.

"If I have the chance to see you rolling around almost naked after a post-workout shower, then I have no problem staying". She whispered near his chin. Robbie cursed internally for having a pretty good ear.

"Wow!" Tony raised his hands nervously, letting her go immediately, this time grabbing her by the shoulders as they turned together, finally introducing her to the rest of the avengers. He wasn't used at all to the women he flirted with returning the same energy. But the girl knew perfectly well what kind of man Stark was: provocative, self-centered, and cowardly. She knew what she had to do and say to get away from his dirty millionaire hands. So that had her smiling genuinely, at least that way she would fool the rest making them think that she was glad to be there.

"Welcome, miss Rojas". T'challa bowed to her and she giggled loudly. A king bowing down to her... She was flattered, she might even believe the story that her existence had importance or any kind of value to receive the reverence of a king, if it weren't for the fact that all of this was just because these seven avengers were aware of her level of danger and her unpredictable character, which was like a huge challenge to overcome. Those two elements mixed together were like a very, very, very fragile timing bomb that was constantly at risk of exploding. It was evident that she was being treated this way as nothing more than a precaution.

The rest of them just raised their hands in a reluctant greeting. "How boring". She thought.

"I guess you're already aware of the rules, aren't you?". Steve addressed the young woman firmly.

Robbie paid attention, he’d chosen to listen before moving, the desire to understand at least something of this whole situation surpassed his impatience.

“You may be the fastest runner out there, but when it comes to thinking you're slower than shit”. Eli sneered at him.

"Yeah, yeah, I've been at this since the beginning, actually I was the second recruit. And I think Coulson got obsessed with me, he can't really go a second without knowing where I am”. She joked, showing her wrist to point to a tight bracelet with a tracker inserted into it, twinkling a bright red. She obviously couldn't take it off; It's not that she tried and failed, no. She literally couldn't, it was attached to her nervous system and if she took it away she would definitely die.

"I doubt it". Jennifer broke the silence for the first time, receiving an elbow from Carol so she at least tried to hide her bad temper for today.

"So you know the rules to be the support of the Avengers". Steve concluded.

"Uh-huh" she lowed a finger each time she named one rule next: "Don't rape, don’t kill, don't steal, don't break any coexistence norm, do anything I'm told, always be available for S.H.I.E.L.D, have no sense of humor and a terrible taste in dressing codes..." Steve's face turned serious at that last and Stark burst out laughing.

"I don't think it's funny". The blond claimed.

"Don't worry, Captain Capitalism, I'm trying not to look like a psycho who broke into your house out of nowhere, ‘just messing with you". She said that as if joking about Captain America's clothes was something any ordinary person would do on a normal day. Despite that, her charisma bought off some of the rest of them, Tony and Carol couldn't hold back their laugh and made fun of Rogers as well.

"She called you Captain Capitalism!" Stark mocked him, laughing hysterically. "Oh, I like you so much, brat"

Steve rolled his eyes and ended up agreeing with them. After the tense moment they had at the beginning, he knew they needed a few laughs and didn't want to cause any more bitterness.

"Then I welcome you to the Avengers, and remember...". He walked into her and grabbed her hand to shake it. "Your past life as an assassin is no longer something you can consider as a possibility here, if you want to stay alive". He said, with a fake smile on his face, squeezing her hand tightly. That totally appeared to be a threat. She nodded, mimicking the captain's expression. Oh, she was dying to mess with this patriotic big prince and get away with it.

The rest of the Avengers cheered for her, except one.

"¿Cómo qué Asesina?".

all together turned to look at the owner of that voice, Robbie, still standing in the doorway of the room, began to fume alarmingly and the smiles that had flooded the room disappeared completely.

"Reyes, cool down, we’ve already explained this to you". Stark said, a little panic in his voice.

"And I've already told you my opinion on it".

Rojas looked eagerly at the anxious boy and as soon as she spotted the fire appearing abruptly with the rider, she slapped the Captain away and stood perfectly defensively in front of him, holding between her fingers a small metallic thing that Stark did not quite understand what it was, nor did he have time to do so.

She waited a few seconds as she squeezed his arm with her thighs, he struggled to get free but couldn't. Shit this woman had fucking strong legs.

Robbie took control over the Ghost Rider and lunged at her ready to kill her, Eli wasn't even present, all that rage poured out in flames was his alone. He was frustrated that no one listened to him. Stark tried to defend the girl, he made that intention clear, but Rojas ran to an empty corner of the room away from everyone, crouching slightly down in front of Reyes so she could meet him squarely. The rider tackled her and they both fell to the floor, but she moved faster and more expertly, she climbed on top of him and wrapped her long legs around his left arm, securing it while pinning the young boy on the floor. Finally, at the speed of light, she’d quickly slid the metal thingy in her hand all along the skin of Reyes' forearm.

Everyone gathered around to watch what was going on, because it all happened so fast, they’d never seen Robbie being defeated so easily before. The fire of the rider completely disappeared, all that was left was just smoke. He looked agitated, as if he was totally weakened.

Less than a minute later she moved a few feet away and before the avenger could stand and attack again, a small translucent viscous red viscous dome covered him, pinning him to the ground slowly.

"Why can't I... Use my fire?" He questioned himself, panting heavily as he tried to sit up on his knees.

"You’re trapped under a dome made of blood, all the oxygen you had for there to be a possibility of creating fire it’s gone, I drained it out through it, faster than it normally takes. Right now you're suffocating to death". She explained, as she bent down to touch the dome curiously only with her fingertips, that shade of red was unique among all those she had seen so far. It was pretty, that caught her attention.

“An incredible mastery of basic physics.” complimented Stark, carefully analyzing the logic and strategy behind her attack. He’d read about her powers a time or two in his spare time, (the reality was that if it wasn't for the pictures of the girl in the archives he wouldn't have read shit and would be more surprised about it), but he never thought seeing her in action would be so amazing, she was super quick to respond, as if she was expecting the ghost rider to attack her. Even Captain America was speechless after seeing the perfect key she put the poor guy in.

"But... whose-?". Robbie returned to his human form, he was about to faint, there was something that was taking away his strength more than the lack of oxygen and he didn't know what it was. "Whose blood is it?". He finally dared to ask, given that the girl outside the capsule didn't look hurt, and the others were just as unharmed.

She stretched the corners of her mouth, arguably a tender smile, but Robbie found it supremely cynical. Then the girl pointed to his left arm, he lowered his head and with his vision completely blurred he could see what was happening. He finally understood everything.

At what point...?

He had a deep cut made vertically along his arm, the flesh was divided in two in a perfectly clean straight line, whatever it was that she had cut him with was too sharp, she even tore the sleeve of his thick leather suit. The exposed tendons contracted seeking refuge again under the piece of muscle that was no longer attached. There was too much blood gushing out, but it wasn't splashing like it normally should be, no. The red liquid fell neatly like a thread to the ground, Robbie followed the flow of it and noticed that it was constantly circulating along the entire wall of the capsule that enveloped him.

And that was the last thing he heard before he fell unconscious.

"It's yours".

[five-hxrgreeves]

An Unexpected Plan

PAIRING: loki laufeyson x reader

POWERS: none

WC: 2.6

SUMMARY: As a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, it was safe to say that you had seen a lot of strange things in your day. Glowing cubes from space, aliens and planetary-scale Armageddons were considered just another day at the office. However, the opening of the multiverse means infinite possibilities, including some that you’d never expect.

WARNINGS: possibly ooc Loki? (this is my first time writing him.)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: So this is based off the post-credit scene in Ant Man: Quantumania for the sneak peek of the Loki series s2. I actually have s1 written on Wattpad with an OC (called Everybody Wants to Rule the World if you want to check it out!), but since Tumblr likes x reader more, I took out the oc. This was an idea I’ve had since I watched s1 so I finally just decided to write a one-shot of it. It may not be accurate to the rest of s2 once it’s released since I just made up some stuff around the 3-second clip that we got.

As a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, it was safe to say that you had seen a lot of strange things in your day. From glowing space cubes of unknown origin to aliens trying to take over New York, the realm of what you considered impossible had broadened over the years. Your considerably high rank as a field agent had allowed you to experience some of these things first hand, which was both a blessing and a curse. It was more so the latter now as you’d been tasked with keeping the notorious trickster God of mischief from living up to his name. Luckily, you were well-equipped for the job— and more than just in the weapons department; you had the uncanny ability to see through lies. (This proved to be exceptionally helpful in an organization whose secrets had secrets.)

However, it was only after more than a decade of service that you were finally thinking that maybe you had bitten off more than you could chew. The God of Mischief had certainly earned his title; in an unforeseen turn of events, he’d gotten his hands on the Tesseract a second time and, before he could whisk himself away to who-knew-where to wreak more havoc, you’d latched onto his arm at the last second to join him for the spin as well. (At least nobody could ever say that you weren’t dedicated to your work.) After that, things had taken a turn for the worse and you’d both been taken to a mysterious time agency and had narrowly escaped death. (Well, maybe death was still on the table— your inevitable end had just been postponed.)

Needless to say, you and Loki hadn’t started out as the best of friends. When you weren’t trying to kill each other (verbally, at least), you glared at one another in sulky silences. But, as they say, trauma draws people together. Somewhere along the line between the end of the world and multiple variations of yourselves, you’d become something akin to. . . acquaintances? Allies? Not necessarily friends, but bonded by enough strange events to have a tentative trust with each other. You were almost certain that Loki wanted more from your relationship, but you hadn’t really forgiven him for what he’d done in New York and besides— whoever heard of a mortal and a God getting a good ending?

Now, however, none of that really seemed to matter; being displaced from your timeline certainly held a bigger threat than whatever was going on between the two of you. After your world-shattering revelation that the statue in the TVA’s library was no longer of three space lizards, but Kang himself you scrambled for answers and solutions. In a desperate attempt to understand the new situation you were in, you’d gotten the new-Mobius’ help of locating (a) Kang in this present timeline, which happened to be in the Victorian Era.

Although the three of you were hidden in shadows in the back of the theater where Kang’s presentation was taking place, your instincts were on high alert. The past few days? (Months?) had taught you that nothing was as it seemed. Even if Kang was currently pretending that he hadn’t seen your little group, you knew not to underestimate him. Every muscle in your body was tense, ready to flee the theater at a moment’s notice if necessary. If you were less of an agent and more of a civilian, you might have even grabbed Loki’s hand— which was only inches from yours in the cramped space— as an expression of the fear that you currently felt. (While you were a seasoned veteran and had seen much in your day, any sane person who knew what Kang was capable of would be scared of him.) Loki seemed to share your trepidation as his eyes never left the enigmatic presenter.

Mobius spoke in a whisper from the God’s other side: “you made him sound like this terrifying figure!”

Neither you nor Loki took your attention away from the man at the front of the room as you replied in sync, “he is.”

As if he’d heard your quiet conversation, Kang’s— in this timeline called Victor— gaze snapped to where you were standing. Although his expression didn’t change and he continued to speak to the crowd, you felt an icy wash of fear trickle down your spine. Instinctively, your weight shifted forward to your toes as you prepared to flee, knowing it wouldn’t be good if Kang or any of his variations caught you as he surely intended to.

You exchanged a glance with Loki, almost one of the same mind after you’d experienced meeting He Who Remains the first time. For Mobius’ benefit, the God breathed out: “run.”

You didn’t need to be told twice; the three of you (after some prompting to get the TVA agent moving) pushed your way as calmly— but also hurriedly— as possible through the crowd to reach the doors. While there wasn’t anyone visibly chasing after you yet, you knew better than to be fooled by the appearance of peace. Once you’d reached the busy London street, you exchanged a look with the men. Not wanting to waste anymore time, you gave one word of warning: “if we get split up, good luck.”

Then, you broke into the fastest run you could considering the crowds of people, animals and carts that went about their daily business. (How nice it would be to not be aware of the multiverse, time travel, interdimensional threats. . . but you consoled yourself that you’d probably become too bored with such a quiet life.) Unsurprisingly, Loki was able to keep pace with you pretty easily— considering he was a God who had to match your extensive training— but Mobius seemed to struggle, especially with dodging obstacles. That was fine, though (as mean as that sounded), since Kang wasn’t after him.

As you ran at a (mostly) steady pace through the winding London streets, cries and shouts began to sound from behind you— it seemed that Kang and his variants were giving the chase. You blocked out the sounds as you focused on running; one foot in front of the other, arms swinging, bent, by your sides, breaths even: in, out, in, out. You ran as you’d been trained to do: for your life. You were so focused on staying ahead of the Kangs that you even lost track of your “running partner” as Loki seemed to fall out of your peripheral vision.

You rounded a corner, and then another, and then— a hand reached out to grab your arm. If given the choice between fight or flight, your always chose the former; you reacted instantly, kicking out with your feet as you attempted to put your attacker in a headlock to take them down.

It was only after a couple seconds of struggling (why wouldn’t this peasant man go down? Didn’t they eat a diet of potatoes and gruel?), you finally registered the man’s protests: “whoa, hey! It’s me— it’s me!”

You let go to eye him suspiciously. In a flash of green, Loki’s familiar form appeared and you let out a sigh of relief which (as it usually was when it came to him) was quickly followed by irritation. “Okay, what the hell? I know you’re the fricken’ God of Mischief and all, but is now really a time to pull tricks?”

“It’s not a trick,” he reassured you. “Well, perhaps it is, in a sense— we can disguise ourselves and blend in, get them off our tail.”

The disguise of a peasant man returned, complete with grubby clothes and matted hair. You curled your lips in disgust. “Far cry from being an Asgardian prince, huh?” you mocked him. “And besides, there’s two flaws to that brilliant plan: one, what about me? I don’t have magic, so pulling me aside to tell me this is just a waste of time. And second, I’m pretty sure Kang the Conqueror can see through something this. . . elementary.”

The peasant man scowled at you, displeased by your jabs. “This is genius, first of all. Before you go touting that you know all about magic, mortal, I can share illusions. Doesn’t your super-secret special agent school teach you self-preservation, or are you willing to take the chance and outrun an impossible amount of Kangs?”

You pursed your lips, weighing your options. As much as you hated to admit it, Loki was right; taking a chance on him was probably better then depending on your running abilities. (Although, to be fair, you were a pretty good runner.) You matched his annoyed expression and crossed your arms against your chest. “Fine, we’ll do it your way— but for the record, my father taught me self-preservation.”

The God smirked at you in that irritating way of his and extended his arm towards you. “Take my hand.”

You watched him skeptically for a moment, remembering how he’d openly admitted to flirting with you in the hours before you’d confronted the Void. As you hesitated— your fatal flaw— you listened for your pursuers and heard faint shouts from their rough interactions with the common people. They were still some distance away, but not comfortable enough to completely forego Loki’s plan. You sighed and— with as much distain as you could muster— took the God’s hand.

There wasn’t anything immediately different about your appearance; when you looked down, you could still see your now-worn combat gear and dusty boots. However, when you looked over at the man next to you, you no longer saw a peasant man; Loki was back to being his infuriating (ahem, handsome) self. You frowned in confusion as you lifted your hand, turning it back and forth to try and see the difference.

“You don’t see the illusion when you’re in it,” he explained with an impossible amount of smugness. “I can assure you, however, that we look as much the same as the rest of this doldrum crowd.”

You gave him a curt nod. “Fine,” you said again. “Let’s try to get out of here, shall we?”

They made their way back onto the main street, looking just the same as the rest of the passers-by. To the rest of the common people, they merely looked like a peasant couple holding hands, out for a nice stroll. Speaking of— “shouldn’t we run?” you asked, looking over your shoulder. Although you couldn’t see the Kangs because of the crush of people, you knew they were there.

“That would draw attention to us,” Loki replied evenly, keeping the steady pace. “All parts of the illusion must be convincing for it to work.”

So, as much as all of your instincts screamed at you to run, you forced yourself to match his steps. Thankfully, the busy city was too noisy to have conversation, otherwise you might have strangled Loki right on the street. (Okay, maybe you weren’t at each other’s throats as often anymore, but he still annoyed the hell out of you.)

It happened suddenly: one moment, you were walking along with Loki at a brisk pace, and the next a man with a golden pharaoh’s headdress appeared next to them. His dark, intense eyes swept the area as he mercilessly pushed carts and people out of his way. Your grip on Loki’s hand tightened in warning, causing the God to look down at you. You jerked your head to the dark-skinned man dressed in gold. His eyes followed your motion and widened before he quickly looked away. Neither of you spoke since the illusion wouldn’t disguise your voice, but your pace picked up slightly.

The next few minutes were very tense as you waited to see if Loki’s illusions would work. It seemed as if the Kang in the Egyptian-styled clothes was tailing you. Loki knew that his magic could only do so much; to the well-trained eye, a very faint glimmer of green could still be seen. They needed to make their illusion even more believable; to do something so out of the ordinary— something that was entirely ordinary, actually— that it would convince even the keenest of observers (which surely Kang was.)

The idea came to him in an instant, causing his chest to fill with warmth. While this would certainly not be his first kiss, it would be his first kiss with you. (And, if he were being uncharacteristically honest, it might be his only chance.) Loki glanced at the Agent out of the corner of his eye, knowing how poorly such a proposal would be received. But, this was a viable suggestion to get the Kangs away from them. So, he tugged the woman next to him to a stop.

You turned to look at the God with an irritated expression. “Need a break, do you?”

Loki was looking down at you intently, his emerald gaze holding yours. Perhaps for the first time, he ignored your dig. “Kiss me.”

Not sure if you heard him right, you stared at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“Kiss me,” he repeated, a little more urgently. He glanced up at the Egyptian Kang who still lingered nearby. He lowered his voice as he hastily explained, “he suspects us. No one looks twice at two people kissing.”

“You’re cra— mmph,” your furious retort was cut off as he placed his lips on yours.

Again, your first impulse was to run, but this time for a different reason. It had been a long time since you’d kissed anyone— since your last love had ended in disaster. You’d vowed to never let anyone this close again after that, but here you were, allowing the God of Mischief to kiss you on a busy street. People brushed past you and jostled you, but Loki’s hands lightly held your arms, keeping you in place. You still had half a mind to push him away and ask what the hell was he thinking, but the other half of your thoughts registered how. . . good of a kisser he was.

You supposed that over a thousand years of practice certainly had its benefits. His lips were soft but insistent on yours, there was just enough tongue movement to make your stomach swoop (the traitor) and although you would deny it if asked, you could feel the electricity zip through you from the action. Just as your shock wore off enough to really kiss him back, Loki pulled away, his gaze flicking over your head to watch the crowd.

“He’s gone,” the God said with relief. Once he’d assessed that the danger had passed, he looked down at you with a smirk. “For someone who claims to hate me so much, I expected you to slap me instead of kiss me.”

You glared at him, any semblance of warmth that had come from the kiss disappearing as quickly as mist in the sun. “That can still be arranged.”

He gave you a shit-eating grin and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, Agent. Tell me you didn’t enjoy that.”

You shoved his arm away and turned to resume your path through the crowd, your head held high. “I didn’t. Let’s go find Mobius. Hopefully he hasn’t gotten trampled by a stray horse or something.”

Since you’d already refocused on the mission at hand, you missed the way the God’s smug expression faltered slightly at your stout rejection. It only lasted for a fraction of a second before he quickly recovered and hurried to catch up with you. Grabbing your wrist, he added, “we should still keep our disguises up, just in case.”

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 18

summary: Char, Nat, and Steve go on a mission to an abandoned HYDRA base and make a harrowing discovery.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: all the feels. all the emotions. all the angst. I know I'm doing the MOST with character development and slow burn and this plot we're building up to, but just stick with me okay! thank you for reading, let me know what you thinkkkk!

tag list: @bangtanxberm @scott-loki-barnes @kayhi808 @charmedbysarge

(let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

“Your mission briefs are in the folders.” Maria Hill gestured to the small stack of manila envelopes marked ‘classified’ in front of her before clicking a button to begin a three dimensional holographic presentation. “The objective is straightforward and this is not believed to be a combat mission. Your goal is to assess the base and retrieve any potentially valuable information pertaining to HYDRA’s resurgence and future plans. The base has been abandoned for years now, or so we believe.” 

Natasha, Steve, and Charlotte sat around the sleek conference table, their attention focused on the display shimmering before them. The room was dimly lit, the lights turned down to enhance their view of the hologram.

"As you can see, the target location was heavily fortified when it was previously occupied," Maria explained, her voice calm and authoritative as she rotated the display with a wave. "We don’t know how many of those security measures remain in place, or if they’re still monitored at all. Our objective is to gather as much intel as possible without triggering anything that would tip them off that we’re on their trail."

Steve nodded in agreement, his expression serious as he surveyed the holographic map. "We'll operate with caution," he remarked, his tone measured. "We won’t draw unnecessary attention to ourselves."

“I appreciate that, Cap, but you’re not the one I want to hear that from.” She raised an eyebrow in Charlotte’s direction. 

Chewing on the end of her pen, Charlotte didn’t notice at first. When she felt the eyes of the other two land on her, she pulled her eyes away from the hauntingly familiar insignia on the outside of the building in front of her. “What? Me? What would I do?”

“Crash a quinjet. Almost blow yourself up. Have a subconsciously triggered psychotic break and try to kill everyone in the vicinity.” Maria shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Hey,” Charlotte held her hands up defensively. “I haven’t given you any reason to think I’d do the last one.” 

“Bucky Barnes might disagree.” She folded her hands across her chest. Her tone was always so even, impossible to detect if her dry sense of humor was showing or just her pragmatic, no-nonsense work tone. 

Leveling a glare at Maria that didn’t phase her one bit, Charlotte sat back in her chair and mock bowed. “You have my word, I will try my absolute darndest not to lose my mind and rain hellfire down on half of Eastern Europe.” 

“Much appreciated.” The smallest smirk tugged at Maria’s mouth before she moved on. 

Charlotte listened intently, her mind already racing with strategic possibilities. Jokes aside, she knew this mission was crucial, not only for gathering vital intelligence but also for proving herself as a capable member of the team. This was her first official mission as an Avenger. She knew the reasoning behind both Steve and Natasha going with her, despite it just being an intelligence mission, was multifaceted. First, there was a possibility that the base was still in undercover operation and they would be walking into a trap. Second, there could be an alarm system in place that would alert any remaining HYDRA forces of their breach and draw them into an ambush. Finally and least pleasantly, Charlotte knew that she was somewhat of a loose cannon. Although she’d proven herself with the attack on the compound, she hadn’t worked in an organized mission format before and she was going to a place with significantly traumatic ties to her past. This wasn’t the facility where she’d been held, but entering any HYDRA territory at all was bound to bring back dark memories. Having two of the most seasoned Avengers with her would be to protect her from everything waiting for them, and to protect everything else from her.

Forty five minutes later when they’d walked through the interior renderings, the terrain map, and the mission plans ad nauseum, Maria concluded the brief and excused herself. 

“You ready for this?” Nat elbowed Charlotte as they stood to head towards the locker room.

Rolling her eyes, Charlotte tucked the manila folder under her arm. “How can I not be with Agent Hill’s heartwarming vote of confidence?”

Steve strode up between them as they crossed into the hallway. Putting his arm around each of their shoulders, he joked, “You’ll be just fine. You’re with two veterans here.” 

“Hey, don’t make me sound old, Rogers.” Nat shoved his arm off of her shoulder and pointed a warning at him. “Let’s not forget I’m the youngest one here by many, many decades.” 

“You ever think they put two of the oldest on a mission with you to keep an eye on you?” He grinned. Nat simply flipped him off and pressed the elevator button to bring them back upstairs to the residential floor. 

When they reached the common room, the chaos of dinnertime greeted them. “Perfect timing, grab a plate,” Wanda called out from her position behind the stove, serving herself what looked like lasagna. They jumped in line, grabbing and filling a plate before joining the rest of the team at the table. The aroma of marinara and freshly baked bread filled the air as the team settled into their unofficial assigned seats, like every other night.

"So, Cap, did Maria give you any more gray hairs?" Sam quipped, raising an eyebrow as he shoveled a steaming forkful into his mouth and immediately winced.

Steve chuckled, shaking his head. "She tried, but I think I've still got a few years left. Charlotte, on the other hand…she took the brunt of it."

Across the table, Wanda turned her attention to Charlotte, a concerned furrow marring her brow. "How are you feeling about the mission, Charlotte? Nervous?"

Charlotte flashed a reassuring smile. "Nervous? Me? Please." She spread the pasta around on her plate, learning from Sam and letting it cool down. “I think you’ll remember that I was born without the ‘self-preservation’ part of my brain. Well,” She held up her wrist, the thin metal bracelet jangling as she wiggled it. “Born, programmed, whatever.”

“Why was Maria giving you a hard time?” Calla frowned. She’d been joining them for dinner almost every night since she and Sam had finally gone public with their relationship. 

“Maria,” Nat answered for her. “Was reminding us all to keep a low profile, Charlotte in particular. She pointed out that Char hasn’t exactly done that, lately.” 

“Then she proceeded to give examples,” Steve added, fighting his grin as Charlotte rolled her eyes. “It was difficult to contest.”

“I’m feeling a little victimized.” Charlotte reached for the basket in the center of the table holding the rolls.

“So did I when you tried to rip my head off.” Bucky deadpanned, tugging the bread basket just out of her reach. “Both times.”

Pausing, Charlotte met his gaze as she stood, leaning over the table towards him. “Cry me a river.” She plucked a roll out of the basket in front of him, returning to her seat. “You better hope I don’t find the HYDRA secret to brainwashing or you’ll be doing my bidding all day, every day, Barnes.” 

Bucky cocked his eyebrow and ran his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. Steve, knowing all too well that the look on his best friend’s face meant nothing good, chose that moment to chime in. “Charlotte will do just fine. It’ll be an easy intelligence mission and we’ll be right back here in two days. Just try not to miss us too much.” 

The rest of the meal passed in a blur of the usual good-natured jabs, tossed rolls, and laughter that felt too lighthearted for Charlotte, knowing she was walking straight into the belly of the beast she’d so narrowly escaped from in just over twelve hours. When the dishes were done, lights were flicked off, and bedroom doors were closing, Natasha caught Charlotte’s arm before she disappeared into her room.

"Charlotte, you're more than capable of handling this. Just trust your instincts and rely on your training." She gave a warm smile and a reassuring squeeze. “Try to get at least a little sleep tonight, okay?”

“Deal. Thanks, Nat.” Charlotte did her best to return Natasha’s warm smile, knowing all too well she wouldn’t be sleeping a single minute that night. 

________

The locker room was quiet, the only sound the soft hum of the overhead lights as Charlotte meticulously checked her gear. She ran her fingers over the smooth surface of her suit, double-checking the straps and fastenings to ensure everything was secure. The night had been agonizingly long as sleep continued to evade her. Part of it was her nerves, the way her stomach writhed and twisted just thinking of stepping foot into a HYDRA base again. Part of it was fear of actually falling asleep and finding herself in the midst of an all too familiar nightmare, waking her in a cold sweat. Some of them got so bad she didn’t know if she’d have the balls to step onto the Quinjet if she had one. 

So she just didn’t sleep.

When her alarm had finally gone off, it somehow felt like a mercy from her own thoughts in the dark doom. She was up and out the door in less than a minute. By the time Steve and Natasha joined her in the locker room, she was almost fully suited up.

As she worked, her mind raced with the same thoughts that had kept her up all night. Thoughts warning her that this was a mistake. That she’d narrowly escaped with her life and freedom and to go back into enemy territory was to make a gamble with both. Taking a deep breath, Charlotte forced herself to push aside her doubts and fears. She knew she couldn't afford to let her emotions get the best of her, not when so much was at stake. Although this was a relatively low octane mission, the implications were heavy. Gathering information on HYDRA could prevent future attacks, stall their plans for growth. Today’s mission could be the catalyst to prevent everything she’d lost sleep fearing. 

With a final glance in the mirror, Charlotte straightened her posture, meeting her own somewhat bloodshot green eyes in the reflection. They looked more confident than she felt. Good. I can play a part with the best of them. Her hands absently patted down her body, feeling for the guns holstered on her hips and thighs, the belt fully stocked with tech. 

“Takeoff in ten, Char.” Nat called over her shoulder before leaving her alone in the room. 

Giving her a half-hearted two finger salute, Charlotte watched her disappear fully before bowing her head. She wasn’t sure quite where she stood on religion, but in that moment, she prayed to anyone who would listen to just let her make it out again. Whatever awaited them, she could handle it so long as she made it back to this place with these people. So long as she made it back home. 

“Hey.” A low voice snapped her out of her stupor. She opened her eyes to see Bucky, hair tousled and messy, eyes looking as sleepless as hers, standing in the doorway. He wasn’t dressed for an early morning workout, instead wearing dark sweats and a hoodie. 

“Hey,” She took a step towards him. “You look like hell.”

“Good morning to you, too.” He scowled. “I’d ask if you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, but something tells me you didn’t sleep at all.” 

“What tipped you off?” Charlotte grit her teeth. 

“I didn’t hear you wake up in a panic.” Bucky didn’t break her gaze. 

Pausing, she shifted her weight, folding her arms across her chest. “You can’t have a nightmare if you don’t sleep.” 

“You need sleep to be at your best today. If you’re foggy, if you miss something today ––” 

Charlotte cut him off, holding a hand up as she moved to push past him. “Look, if you’re just here to lecture me, I’m really not in the mood for  ––”

“I’m not.” Vibranium fingers gripped her waist just above her belt. Setting his jaw, he met her eyes again. “I just wanted to say…just be careful.” A moment of quiet passed between them. “You will be okay. You’re out, and you’re never going to be trapped again.”

From the ever-so-slight break in his voice, Charlotte knew he was talking to himself just as much as he was to her. She also knew it couldn’t have been easy to drag himself out of bed at the ass crack of done to come get touchy feely. It wasn’t lost on her. 

“Thank you, Bucky.” Her words came out breathless. Seeming to realize his hand was still on her waist, Bucky let go. Charlotte caught his hand in her own and gave it a squeeze as she offered a faint smile. “I’ll see you in two days.” 

“See you in two days.” 

________

As the Quinjet sliced through the dark skies en route to Eastern Europe, the atmosphere among the trio was surprisingly light. The hum of the engines provided a steady backdrop to their low conversations, the cabin dimly lit. The sun had finally come up, driving away some of the ominous thoughts of the night along with it. Charlotte was again absently checking her gear when Natasha, sitting across from her, leaned back in her chair with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“So, Char, are we gonna talk about when you and Barnes disappeared in New York?” Natasha’s voice was teasing, her smile knowing.

Charlotte rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, so first you want to cockblock, and then you want to gossip.”

Steve, looking over his shoulder from where he was maneuvering the jet, raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry, was there a need for a cockblock?”

“I guess we’ll never know.” Charlotte shrugged.

“Oh, come on!” Nat nudged her chair with a boot. “First it gets all tense and awkward during the game, then you disappear to ‘get another drink’,” She made air quotes with her fingers. “After which, Barnes mysteriously also needs a refill. You’re gone a few minutes, you both come back flushed with a disappointing lack of messy hair or undone buttons.”

Charlotte rolled her eyes, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. "Well, if we’re calling out cockblockers, Sam was the one who interrupted in the first place.”.

Steve, now so invested he’d switched the Quinjet to autopilot, turned around in his seat.. "Sam interrupted what, exactly?"

"I mean," Charlotte flushed with a laugh. "I don’t know. Bucky was about to kiss me, I guess—"

Natasha interrupted, her voice triumphant. "Ha! I told you, Rogers! Pay up. Fifty bucks."

Steve chuckled, holding his hands up in defeat. "Alright, alright. You win."

Curiosity gleamed in Natasha's eyes as she turned her attention back to Charlotte. "So, that’s a far cry from your usual interactions. How do you feel about it?"

Charlotte shrugged nonchalantly, waving them off. "I don’t know, we were both pretty drunk."

Natasha and Steve exchanged a knowing glance before Natasha spoke up again, her tone more serious. "Come on, Charlotte. We know there's something between you and Barnes. You two wouldn't be at each other's throats as much as you are if there wasn't something deeper there."

Steve nodded in agreement. "Nat's right. No one can deny the tension whenever you're in the same room. Have you ever noticed how there’s always someone ready to jump between you two?”

“Yeah, we thought it was to keep you two from tearing each other apart, but maybe it’s actually to keep from tearing each others’ clothes off.” Nat winked, causing Steve to shake his head. 

“Fuck…off…” Charlotte laughed, swatting at Nat’s feet, propped up on her arm rest. 

“Ladies, please.” Steve waved a hand between them, mock breaking up the spat. “Listen, for what it’s worth, and don’t tell him I said this…Bucky wasn’t that drunk last weekend.”

Charlotte sighed, her playful demeanor fading as she grew more introspective. "It's just... confusing, you know? I don't even know where to begin."

Natasha leaned forward. "Well, for starters, Barnes is not the easiest to read." 

“That’s for damn sure.”

Steve nodded in agreement. "But don't underestimate him. Bucky's a good man, Char. He just needs someone who's willing to get past the walls he's built around himself."

Looking down at her hands, Charlotte shook her head before meeting Natasha’s gaze. “Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on with him. Us.  It’s like... one moment, we’re just roommates, teammates –– whatever. Then, we’re talking at two in the morning because we both had nightmares and we’re bonding over this shared trauma bullshit. Then he’s jumping my ass like he hates me. Then we’re almost crossing a line we’ve never even approached, and the next, it’s like we’re right back to being roommates.”

Natasha’s expression softened. “It’s tough with Bucky. He’s been through a lot, and sometimes, he struggles with letting people in. Even those he cares about deeply. Trust me, if he didn’t care, he wouldn’t get so…aggressive.”

Steve nodded, his face serious now. “Nat’s right. Bucky does care about you, Charlotte. Maybe he’s just trying to protect you — and himself — from potential pain. I mean, if he doesn’t know where you stand then he’s not likely to put himself out there at all.”

Charlotte listened, her brow furrowing. “I get that, I really do. But it’s just so frustrating feeling like I’m constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop. How am I supposed to even figure out how I feel when it’s like we have four different relationships happening at once?”

“Well,” Steve shrugged. “Which relationship do you want to stick?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Rogers.” Charlotte narrowed her eyes. “Why don’t you ask your bestie and report back to me, hm?”

“Buck and I don’t really talk about things like this.” He chuckled. 

“What do you talk about? Medicare? Viagra?” 

“Not viagra.” Nat pretended to check her nails, this time sending Steve’s face into a full blush as he turned back around to take the controls. When his back was fully turned, she held her hands up, miming a significant length between them as she winked. 

“Oh, gag me,” Charlotte stood up from her chair and stalked towards the back of the jet. 

“Don’t ask me, ask Barnes!” Nat called after her disappearing figure. 

Flipping her off over her shoulder, Charlotte was thankful Nat couldn’t see her grin.

________

The icy winds howled outside the decrepit structure that once served as a HYDRA base, nestled deep in the forests of some country Charlotte had never even heard of. Its walls, blanketed by a thick layer of snow, muffled the sounds of the harsh environment outside. The Quinjet was stashed just outside the treeline, cloaked in stealth mode. 

Steve, Natasha, and Charlotte approached the entrance with practiced silence, their movements precise. They were thankful for the quickly falling snow covering their tracks as they walked, finally reaching the entrance. The door was ajar, hanging crooked on the lower two hinges, swinging gently in the frigid breeze. Aside from the whistling wind, the creaking of the door was the only sound across the eerily silent clearing. Nat shot Charlotte a sidelong look, one final check to make sure she was okay before they crossed the threshold. Nodding, Charlotte fell into line behind Steve as they stepped out of the elements and into the dark building. A thick layer of dust swirled up from the ground as their boots disturbed it.

“Looks like no one’s been here for years,” Steve whispered, his shield ready as he peeked inside the shadowed hallway. “But stay sharp. We don’t know what’s left behind.”

Natasha nodded, pulling out her compact field device. “Charlotte, you’re with me. We need to find the main server room. There’s a good chance they left data behind, not expecting anyone to come back to this hellhole.”

Charlotte nodded, ignoring the way her stomach turned as she followed Natasha, her hands hovering above the pistols holstered on her hips. This building was hundreds of miles from where she’d been kept, but the interior similarities were uncanny. From the smell of gunpowder and antiseptic to the haunting emblem stamped on every door, the only difference was the lack of lowlife psychopaths crawling the place. The hallway was lined with old propaganda posters, the edges curled and the faces faded. Every step they took kicked up a new symphony of dust, dancing in the beams of their flashlights. She fought to stay present, stay in the headspace of an Avenger on a mission rather than a terrified girl in way over her head. Pretend. Play a part. Be like Natasha. Her breathing evened out as she forced herself to observe Nat, to catalog her every move. The slight bend to her knees as she crept forward, the way her head swiveled from side to side as she cleared each room, even her heart rate, faintly perceptible through her armor. As Charlotte tailored her own movements to those of Natasha, she felt her own heart rate slow. Mimic. Emulate. That’s what she was good at. That’s what would get her through this.

Reaching the server room, the door creaked as they pushed it open. Charlotte tried not to cringe at the loud noise, the fear that it would awaken some long dormant evil in this place. Inside the room, rows of ancient computers and servers hummed with a surprising flicker of life, the green lights blinking in the semi-darkness.

“Looks like we’re in luck, electricity hasn’t been cut off here,” Natasha murmured, setting up her device to interface with the HYDRA technology. “Char, keep an eye on the door. I need a few minutes here.”

Charlotte positioned herself by the doorway, her senses heightened. The silence was oppressive, filled only by the distant whir of outdated machinery and Natasha’s steady breathing as she worked.

Minutes stretched into an eternity. Charlotte’s thoughts drifted to Bucky, to both of their sleepless nights. She wondered if he’d been on missions that took him back into the belly of the beast, if he’d been as terrified as she was. 

A soft beep from Natasha’s device cut through the silence. “Got something,” Natasha announced, her voice a mix of relief and urgency. “There are references to a new base of operations, coordinates embedded in an encrypted file. I’m downloading it now.”

“Good work, Nat,” Steve’s voice crackled over the comms, ever vigilant. “Wrap it up. I don’t like how exposed we are here.”

As Natasha hurriedly collected the last pieces of data, Charlotte felt a shiver that wasn’t from the cold. It was the realization that this mission, seemingly quiet, was just the precursor to something much larger. They were on the brink of uncovering a resurgence that could threaten their fragile peace. She’d told herself she just had to get through this mission, to quell her fears for today, and then she could breathe. This data…the trail to a new base, the source of the attack…this was far from over. A chill ran down Charlotte’s spine and she prayed Natasha didn’t notice. 

With the data secured, they retraced their steps, making their way back towards where Steve was positioned at the entrance. As they emerged into the final hallway, the biting cold seeped through the broken door, washing over them with a sobering chill.

“Let’s head back,” Steve said, his voice resolute. “Good work you two. We need to get this to SHIELD.”

With the data secured and the team poised to leave, a sudden, inexplicable intuition halted Charlotte. "Wait," she said abruptly, her voice echoing slightly in the now silent corridor.

Steve turned, his brow furrowed in concern. "Charlotte, we need to move. It's risky to linger."

"I know, but... I remember something," she insisted, her voice threaded with uncertainty. Her mind was flickering with disjointed memories, not her own but somehow familiar—whispers of conversations overheard from her past.

Natasha looked concerned. "What is it?"

"There’s... a basement. Hidden. I'm sure of it. They mentioned it once, back when I was being briefed on potential locations to track Buck––the Winter Soldier to. They thought he might try to target the smaller bases when he got free. They were especially concerned with beefing up security for this one…this place was important, not just a random outpost."

Steve's tactical mind battled with his protective instincts. "We don’t have much time," he warned, but his gaze softened. "Make it quick."

Nodding, Charlotte led them down a forgotten hallway, her eyes scanning for any sign of a concealed entrance. Her hand brushed against the wall, and she felt a subtle, almost imperceptible seam. Pressing against it, a portion of the wall gave way, revealing a narrow stairwell spiraling down into darkness. Both of them covered their mouth with their arms, avoiding the cloud of dust and debris that flooded the air.

"Good call," Natasha murmured, lighting the path with her flashlight as they descended.

The air grew colder as they reached the basement, a small, shadow-filled room that reeked of secrets long buried. Along one wall, files and documents were preserved in sealed cabinets. Natasha quickly began sifting through them, her hands skilled and efficient. Charlotte did the same across the room, making quick work of the folders there.

Charlotte’s heart thudded painfully as she pulled out a dust-covered file marked with a stark, black HYDRA stamp and the words "Winter Soldier Projekt." 

Breath catching in her throat, Charlotte opened the dusty file with trembling fingers. She skimmed for only a few seconds before slamming it closed, heart pounding. The contents––the little she saw–– were chilling. On the first page alone, there was a detailed log of the original experiments conducted on Bucky during World War II, complete with photographs and medical reports. Considering the folder was at least two fingers thick, the thought of what else was contained in those pages made her want to vomit. She turned her attention back to the cabinet and found another two folders marked with the same project name. 

“Find anything?” Nat crossed the room before her eyes landed on the folders in Charlotte’s hand. "Oh, shit…this...this could be the parts of his past he's still trying to piece together."

Charlotte’s expression was grim. "He deserves to see this. Whether or not he reads it is up to him.”

Silently nodding, Natasha grabbed a stack of files she’d deemed important enough to take and turned for the door, Charlotte right on her heels. With the additional files secured, the gravity of their discovery pressing down on them, they ascended back to the ground level. The mission had been a success, but had unearthed more than they had bargained for, casting a shadow that would follow them back home. 

"Let's get out of here." Steve said again, his voice firmer this time, an edge underlying his calm as he read the expressions on both women’s faces.

As they emerged into the gray, sunless day, the German landscape bleak and unwelcoming around them, Charlotte felt a mix of triumph and trepidation. They had retrieved crucial information, hadn’t been intercepted or ambushed, and yet…this felt like they’d taken a massive blow. The emotional implications, especially for Bucky, loomed large—her heart ached for him and the pain he’d face when they got back. 

They quickly and quietly ascended the ramp into the Quinjet, taking their seats as Steve took them out of enemy territory. When they were safely soaring above the clouds, Natasha motioned for him to let her take over. “Take a look at what Charlotte found.” Her grim voice caught his attention.

​​Steve shifted in his seat, the low hum of the Quinjet the only noise as he turned and faced where Charlotte was seated. He noticed the tight set of Natasha’s jaw, the unusual tension in her shoulders. Charlotte sat looking equally somber, eyes glassy,  a thick file clasped tightly in her hands. The atmosphere was thick with a kind of urgency that made his stomach tighten.

"Steve, it’s about Buckyt," Charlotte said quietly as she handed him the file. Her eyes were shadowed, suggesting she’d already seen the horrors it contained.

Taking the file, Steve felt the weight of it, not just in physical terms but in what it represented. He opened it slowly, almost hesitantly, the pages filled with dense text and black-and-white photographs that made his stomach convulse. As his eyes scanned the documents, detailing operations and experiments carried out during the war, his expression darkened.

He paused on a photograph, a stark, haunting image of Bucky strapped to a chair, machinery and wires surrounding him, protruding from everywhere imaginable. Bucky hadn’t even liked the doctor when they were kids, so this…Steve’s hands trembled slightly, the image hitting far too close to home, a vivid reminder of his failure to protect his friend when he needed him the most.

Natasha watched him closely out of the corner of her eyes, her voice softening. “We had no idea about some of these details. The depth of what they did—”

“It’s monstrous,” Steve interrupted, his voice rough with emotion. He continued flipping through the file, each page turn revealing another layer of the nightmare Bucky had endured. Reports of prolonged exposure to mind-altering techniques, physical endurance tests, and surgical manipulations filled the pages.

Closing the file abruptly, Steve looked up, his eyes clouded with pain and anger. “We shouldn’t be reading this. Not before he does…I mean, fuck,” His uncharacteristic swear jarred Nat and Charlotte. “I mean, do we even show him this? Or does this just set him back? He’s worked so hard, he’s finally been getting past some of the nightmares…I just––”

Charlotte reached out, her hand briefly touching his arm in a gesture of support. “It will be hard. Really fucking hard. I…I would want to know, though.”

Steve nodded slowly, the resolve setting into his features. “We’ll leave it up to him, give him a choice. We owe him that much.” He let out a slow breath as he put the files into an empty seat next to Charlotte.

As the Quinjet cut through the clouds, the cabin was filled with a tense silence, broken occasionally by the soft clacking of buttons and the murmur of the aircraft's systems. Charlotte sat near the communications array, her fingers absentmindedly tapping against the metal surface, her mind racing with the weight of the files just a foot away from her. The atmosphere of the ride home was a far cry from the ride there, laughter and jokes felt impossible at the moment. They hadn’t even called back for the mission report, putting it off as long as possible as they debated whether or not to submit the files to SHIELD’s official records, where they’d be available to everyone in the organization. When they could ignore the comm requests no longer, Steve finally gave in.

"Patch through to Maria Hill," Steve instructed Charlotte, his voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of urgency.

Charlotte nodded and quickly set the frequencies. A moment later, Maria's voice filled the cabin, clear and commanding. "Report, team. How did the mission go?"

"We secured the intel we were after," Natasha replied, glancing at Charlotte with a hint of concern. "But there's something else, Maria. It's about Bucky—files from his time with HYDRA during the war. They were hidden in a basement, in a concealed wing of the base. Charlotte located it. These files are…we’d like these to be handled with the utmost discretion."

There was a brief pause. "Understood," Maria responded, her tone turning somber. "Standard protocol dictates a full briefing with all operatives. However, I'm aware of the sensitivity of this information regarding Sergeant Barnes."

Charlotte’s voice was quiet but firm as she joined in. "Maria, I think it might be best if I briefed him privately first. This is personal and could be quite a shock. He trusts me, and it might be easier for him to process this with someone he's close to. Of all of us…" She glanced at Steve, praying she wasn’t stepping on his toes. “I understand this. What this will be like. I would want to be able to process it privately, maintain some dignity.”

There was another pause, longer this time. "I understand the delicacy of the situation," Maria finally said. "You have the go-ahead, Rossi. Brief Barnes privately. Depending on his reaction and the relevance of the information, we can decide how to proceed with the rest of the team. You have official clearance to classify the information until then."

A collective breath was let out across the cabin.

"Thank you, Maria," Charlotte said, her relief palpable even through the static of the comms. 

“Stay in stealth mode, we’ll see you when you get back. Good work, team.” Maria signed off, all business as usual.

Steve sat back, concern etched on his face. "You okay with this, Charlotte? It’s a heavy burden and Bucky doesn’t have a history of reacting…well to difficult information.”

She took a deep breath, leaning forward and bracing her elbows on her knees. "It needs to be me. There’s a level of…shame that comes with finding out what was done to you. What you couldn’t stop. As much as he loves you, both of you, it will be harder to hear from you. Me? I’m already a walking reminder of his past. I understand it better than anyone. If he gets mad, I can take it, but…it needs to be me.”

Steve nodded, giving her a faintly reassuring smile as he turned back to the control panel.

For the remaining hours of the flight, the Quinjet soared through the sky, carrying its crew and their heavy cargo of secrets back home, each member lost in their own thoughts about the implications of their findings.

________

It was early evening by the time they touched back down at the compound.

Steve and Natasha had given Charlotte reassuring nods as they left her alone in the locker room, holding the files and steeling herself for the hardest conversation of her life. Deciding that waiting would only make it worse, she set off to find Bucky without even changing out of her uniform.

The final rays of sun streamed through the windows of the training room cast long shadows as Charlotte entered. The sound of punching and the rhythmic thud of a heavy bag swinging greeted her, slightly echoing in the large space. Bucky, his hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, was relentlessly driving his fists into the bag. He paused, breathing heavily, as he noticed Charlotte standing in the doorway.

"Hey, you’re back,” he greeted, a small smile fleeting across his lips. “Glad to see you made it out and didn’t shit the bed,” Noticing the seriousness of her expression and the file clutched in her hands, he grabbed a towel, wiping his face as he walked over to her. "What’s wrong?"

“Hey, Buck.” Charlotte shifted, the file almost feeling heavier in her grasp. "It’s something we found at the base. It’s about... It’s about you. From during the war." She offered it out but he only stared at it.

Bucky's demeanor shifted as he read the label, the lines of his face hardening. "Who else has seen it?"

"Nobody, Bucky. I found it, and I’ve kept it safe. Only glanced through it enough to know it’s important, and personal." She met his gaze firmly, conveying her sincerity. "Even Steve didn’t feel right reading it. It’s been with me since I found it."

He nodded slowly, his eyes dropping to the file then back to her. "And if I decide I don’t want to know?"

"That’s completely up to you," Charlotte reassured him softly. "We’ve classified it from SHIELD. This is yours, Bucky. Only yours. You don’t ever have to read it if you don’t want to."

Bucky took a deep breath, the internal struggle evident in his eyes. After a long moment, he reached out and took the file from her. "Will you... stay?"

"Of course," she replied without hesitation, her voice gentle, albeit a little breathless from her own nerves.

They moved to a corner of the room where a small bench sat. Bucky took a seat, Charlotte settling beside him, close enough for support, yet giving him space to breathe. He opened the file slowly, his eyes scanning the first page, the photos paperclipped in. As he flipped through, his body tensed with each page turned, the horrors of his past laid bare in black and white. She knew in her bones that the glassy look in his eye meant he was reliving hell right in front of her.

Charlotte watched him, her heart aching with each crease that formed on his brow, each slight twitch of his jaw. It wasn’t difficult to avert her eyes from the file, knowing that the information contained there was not only deeply personal to Bucky, but highly likely to fuel her own nightmares. When he finally closed the file somewhere around the halfway mark, his eyes were glassy, his face pale. His body was rigid, as if bracing against a storm. Abruptly, he stood up, the file slipping from his hands and fluttering to the floor, papers scattering across the floor. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, and then he crumpled in front of a trash can in the corner, his body convulsing as he vomited violently.

Instantly, Charlotte dropped to her knees by his side, her hands tenderly holding back his hair, rubbing absently up his back. She stayed close, unafraid, as he shuddered with the force of his reaction.

When the waves of nausea finally subsided, Bucky shifted, leaning his back against the cool metal of the wall. Charlotte turned beside him, her hands trailing across his shoulders, tugging him towards her. Bucky leaned in, his body trembling as silent tears began to stream down his face. With a gentle but firm touch, she pulled him closer, letting his head rest against her chest. His arms wrapped around her waist as his shaking intensified.

Charlotte held him tightly, her hand soothingly stroking his back, creating a small sanctuary against the rest of the world. They remained there on the floor, the only sounds in the room being Bucky’s soft cries and the muffled sounds of the outside world going on as usual, unaware of the pain only a wall away. She didn’t even feel the tightness in her muscles from sitting in one place for so long, didn’t feel the hard floor beneath her. All Charlotte felt was the warmth from Bucky, the damp tears soaking into her skin beneath her suit, the shaking of his body against her. 

She lost track of how long they sat there. Lost track of her hunger and time and the rest of the world. As far as she was concerned, her world was contained within the four walls of this room. There wasn’t a force on Earth that could take her out of it.

[bit-dodgy-innit]

Ballroom Blitz, Part 1

Summary: *Stefon from SNL voice* This fic has everything: parties, Khonshu possessing his avatar, ballroom dancing, a cameo by the British royal family, LAYLA EL-FAOULY, the moon boys looking like this ⬇️ , and so much more! 

Basically, Sigyn brings the Moon Knight to a classy function at Buckingham Palace, and all hell breaks loose. A continuation of my fic SCARED TO BE LONELY

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Marc x Fem!OC, Steven x Fem!OC, Jake x Fem!OC, past Loki x Fem!OC, past Marc x Layla

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: Here have some Moon Boys and Sigyn while I write Marc and Jake screwing their breastfeeding wife in Shape of You land. Also, what can I say? I love dressing Marc and Sigyn up and making them dance in public together. Also I made Shuri queer and gave Khonshu they/them pronouns byeeeee

I could kill him, Sigyn thought to herself as she paced up and down the hallway of Buckingham Palace, the rather unimaginative locale for where the British royalty was hosting the ball. The sound of her stilettos meeting the polished marble reverberated down the length of the high-ceilinged corridor.

The Brits were hosting the event to foster camaraderie and diplomacy between the nations that were ruled by warrior-superheroes. The Wakandans were in attendance with all of their slowly dissipating mystique and perennial grace, and naturally the Asgardians - New Asgardians, technically - were invited as well. 

While at first Thor and King Valkyrie had believed that going was a waste of precious time, time they needed to use hunting down Gorr and Loki, Sigyn convinced them otherwise. They had to go, she’d implored, because if they didn’t it would raise suspicion and worry. It wasn’t time for the general public to panic just yet. Furthermore, she’d pointed out, this would give them cover to debrief the Wakandans, since Gorr’s vendetta affected them too. 

There was one more reason Sigyn knew that their attendance was the right move, and it was because of her escort. It was expected for Thor and Valkyrie to arrive as a unit, the former crown prince of Asgard and his successor on Midgard, which left Sigyn’s arm bare. She refused to attend alone, therefore she’d asked Marc to accompany her. He’d accepted. 

Sigyn publicly on the arm of another man would infuriate her estranged husband. This was different than she and Khonshu’s avatars having sex in the privacy of her Claridge’s suite, or the dark corners and hidden alleys they’d fuck in each time they failed to find Loki as they chased him halfway across the galaxy. Attending the ball with Marc was an overt abandonment of Sigyn’s vows to her spouse, no matter that he’d forsaken them first. She was hoping that it would make the adopted Asgardian so livid it would deliver Loki to them, ending their weeks-long fruitless pursuit. 

Yet, Marc wasn’t here. Nor was Steven or Jake. They all knew about tonight’s event, she’d told them each separately, and how much it meant to Sigyn. It was a chance for the princess to recapture a portion of her old life, her life in her home universe, where she was a shrewd diplomat and gracious guest. Not only was the system late, they weren’t answering any of their phones. 

“Seeg,” Thor jogged over to her, looking dapper in his tux. “They’re going to start introductions soon. I’ve already asked the Wakandans to go before us, but is there any sign of him?” 

I am going to kill him, Sigyn amended her previous thought. All traces of doubt were gone. She detested exceptions like this being made on her behalf, especially when she was conducting official business. How could they do this to her? As if she didn’t already have enough abandonment issues. 

His sister’s dejected expression answered Thor’s question. He put his massive palms on her shoulders. “Hey, I’ll send Val in by herself. We’ll go in together, though we may be so blond and dazzling as a pair it could drive the Midgardians mad.” 

The god took the small smile his words etched across his sister’s lips as a victory. “I’ll enter on my own Thor, you and the King need to present a united front. Besides, I’m not even being introduced as a royal anyway.” 

Tonight, for the first time in nearly a millennium, Sigyn wouldn’t be introduced as princess of Asgard. Instead she would be Lady Sigyn Frodisdottir, her name when she was maiden. It made sense. She was royal on a different Asgard, and it would confuse everyone if a princess appeared out of nowhere in New Asgard. They’d all think she was married to Thor or Valkyrie. Nevertheless, it was more salt to the wound Loki carved into her heart, a wound Marc, Steven, or Jake’s presence would’ve served as a balm for. 

“No!” Thor protested, “Come on, it’ll be fun!”  

Sigyn opened her mouth to insist once again, but a member of the palace staff approached her. “My lady, I apologize, but I believe your escort just arrived at one of the service entrances.”

Sigyn’s heart soared and burned all at once. He didn’t abandon her after all, but of course Marc hadn’t listened and arrived in a car like she’d told him to. “Is your team bringing him here?” 

“We are my lady,” the staff member confirmed, “But for security purposes, could you come with me to make sure it’s him?” 

“Of course,” Sigyn answered without hesitation. She turned to Thor and begged, “Buy us a little more time, would you? I’ll collect him as quickly as possible.” 

Her brother nodded, mission accepted, as Sigyn and the staff member dashed from where the nobility waited outside the grand ballroom. The princess was surprisingly speedy in her heels. 

“My lady, are you comfortable with passing through some of the staff corridors?” they inquired. “I loathe to suggest it, particularly to an esteemed guest such as yourself, but it may be wise in the interest of time.”

“Certainly,” Sigyn consented, “I don’t mind at all.” 

Sigyn met Marc in a staff hallway just outside the kitchens. He was impeccably dressed in a classic tuxedo that Sigyn had procured for him through Claridge’s personal shopper. Steven had been fronting when they’d had a fitting. He nearly lost his mind over wearing a suit that was being altered for him by a tailor from Savile Row.  

But this was undoubtedly Marc charging toward her. The storminess in his eyes and athleticism in his gait was unmistakable to the Asgardian. He was clean-shaven, his hair neatly pushed from his brow with a hint of product. His appearance would’ve made Sigyn’s heart skip a beat if she wasn’t in such a rush. 

He began his apology, words pouring out of him, as soon as Marc glimpsed her. “I’m sorry, so fucking sorry. I rushed here, literally flew as fast as I can, Khonshu demanded that I–”

Sigyn stopped him “Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter now, we’re delaying the introductions.” 

The princess took Marc’s hand and tugged him to follow her, but now he’d been able to get a proper look at her, and Marc nearly choked on his own breath. Sigyn was a vision. She wore a simple yet timelessly elegant navy blue satin gown. It had a modest, delicate boatneck neckline, and fit the length of Sigyn’s body like a glove, the hem stopping just above the floor.

The Asgardian’s long locks were swept off her shoulders in a neat French twist. Marc had seen Sigyn without makeup plenty of times now, she was gorgeous and frankly didn’t need it he’d always thought, but there was something about the touch of smoky shadow around her eyes and an almost nude pink painted onto her lips that enhanced her divine features further. 

A sparkling diamond bracelet encircled the wrist that held Marc’s hand, and two small teardrop diamond earrings fell from her lobes. Around Sigyn’s neck, a thin diamond choker. The princess looked like an old movie star, understated but still incredibly alluring. 

That was until Sigyn turned around to tow Marc in the direction of the ballroom. If he was a cartoon, his eyes would have bulged out of his head and left his skull altogether. Where the front of the Asgardian’s dress rested just above her clavicles, the back was open, plunging down an expanse of bare skin to right above where Sigyn’s spine began to widen into the plump curves of her ass. And it turned out that her necklace wasn’t a choker at all, it was only a portion of a long diamond strand on which a sapphire, exactly the color of the princess’s eyes, hung at the root of her back. 

Jake was so captivated by this development that he pushed to the front, forcing a switch with no regard that they weren’t alone. The palace staff hurried along beside them, but that didn’t stop Jake from grabbing Sigyn’s hips and pulling her back to him. 

“Ay princesa, tu culo en este vestido”, he murmured. “Me estás dando una erección en medio del Palacio de Buckingham.”

Thank heavens the palace staff were bastions of discretion. 

“You’ll never get this ass again if you make us any more late,” she warned him in Spanish. 

Jake promptly released her and they resumed their race back to the ballroom, yet Sigyn only made it a few paces before her hand was captured and she was pulled into an equally hungry and earnest kiss. 

“You look absolutely radiant tonight, love,” Steven professed when they broke apart.

“Thank you darling,” she melted. “But we must make haste, we’ll have time for the two of us soon.” 

Which reminded Sigyn, “Whose name shall I give to the announcer?”

“Mine.” American accent. Marc. He’d switched back. 

“One of these days I wish to speak with Khonshu,” Sigyn fumed. “This is outright obnoxious.”

“He thinks I’m serving you more than him lately,” Mark divulged.  

That stopped Sigyn dead in her tracks. “You’re not serving me. I am your partner Marc, I could be queen of the multiverse but we’d still be partners in this venture. You know that, right?” 

Marc nodded.

“That infernal ancient bird,” Sigyn swore.

Marc remained silent. He’d done his best to lose the Egyptian deity as he flew across London, but Khonshu was always watching. Marc knew that the god wasn’t exactly fond of Sigyn either and getting in between them would be nothing short of a shitshow.   

They arrived back to the ballroom entrance just as the Wakandan delegation were finishing their introductions, Shuri and T’Challa the last to cross the threshold. 

“You made it!” Thor crowed in delight, Valkyrie at his side. “We’ll go first, give you two a moment.” 

“That violates protocol,” Sigyn protested. 

“Who cares?!” Valkyrie exclaimed with playful irreverence. “On New Asgard, the protocol is whoever’s ready goes first.” 

The King sent Marc a reassuring wink and soon they disappeared into the ballroom with the announcement “Her Majesty King Valkyrie of New Asgard and Thor, the strongest Avenger.” 

“I can’t believe he made them say that,” Marc muttered as Sigyn adjusted his lapel. 

“Do not get me started,” the Asgardian concurred through gritted teeth. She lay her hands on his broad chest. “You’re not nervous, are you?” 

“This is the furthest a kid from working class Chicago can get,” Marc told her. 

“Just take one step at a time and keep your gaze straight ahead,” she advised. 

It was their turn. Sigyn whispered to the uniformed attendant waiting to announce them, then returned to Marc, who offered her his arm. This was it. 

“Lady Sigyn Frodisdottir of New Asgard and Mister Marc Spector!” 

A swell of strings from an orchestra greeted them as the pair entered the ballroom. Every eye in the massive space was on Marc and Sigyn as they descended the staircase into the room, Marc making sure to go slow so Sigyn would retain her balance. 

Yet, the princess didn’t need his aid. She seemed to glide down the stairs, clearly the Asgardian noble was back in her element. Nevertheless, she covertly squeezed her escort’s arm, hoping he got the message “I’m happy you’re here with me” she meant to convey with the gesture. 

He took her advice, setting his gaze directly in front of him instead of looking at his feet, channeling the confidence from knowing he was here with the most beautiful woman in the room.

Thor, Valkyrie, T’Challa, his consort Nakia, Shuri, her striking consort - a member of the Dora Milaje, plus the British crown prince and his wife were all waiting for Marc and Sigyn at the base of the staircase. The orchestra continued playing, so once they were level with the other couples, Marc led Sigyn out to the dance floor with the rest of the royals and began the waltz. 

She’d given him advance notice about this part, which gave Marc time to teach himself the mercifully simple box step the dance consisted of as well as time to practice with her.  

Sigyn beamed at her partner while they waltzed. When Loki first left, Sigyn couldn’t have dreamed that she’d be in the arms of another powerful, kinder, dashing man, dancing at an opulent Migardian palace in another universe. Though now Sigyn was here, there was nowhere else she’d rather be.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she told him. 

“You’re throwing off my counting,” he chided. 

“Please, you can do this in your sleep and you know it,” she dismissed him fondly. 

“I’ll be glad when this song is over” he groused, then softened. “This is a little different from the first time we danced.” 

“Only slightly,” she joked. Sigyn wanted to kiss Marc, yet they’d mutually agreed that there were to be no public displays of affection this evening. Luring Loki was one thing, but they didn’t need any Midgardian attention. It was proving more difficult in practice, what with Marc dressed to the nines, holding her near enough for the princess to smell his crisp cologne, his chiseled face so close to hers.

“I know Steven and Jake already said it, but you do look really beautiful tonight,” he offered as they sailed across the floor. 

“Thank you, Marc,” she grinned again, Marc was the stingiest with compliments. It wasn’t that he didn’t genuinely mean them, but sharing them necessitated a vulnerability the Midgardian was still unaccustomed to. “You look quite dashing yourself. Now what troublesome task did Khonshu insist you complete before you arrived?” 

Marc opened his mouth to answer, but instead of vocalizing, his eyes glowed a pearlescent white, his posture stiffened, and his head tilted back slightly. Miraculously, he didn’t miss a step as they danced which could only mean one thing…

“Why don’t I tell you myself, hm? Since you are so eager to speak with me.”

Khonshu. 

“Your timing is impeccable,” she commented, her tone dripping in sarcasm. 

They twirled her, Khonshu’s agility taking Sigyn off guard. Marc had mastered the box step but not much else.  

“It would behoove you not to wear your emotions so plainly on your face, little princess,” the god admonished her. Khonshu’s voice was unmistakably deeper than Marc’s and more sonorous.

They no longer shouted like they had the first time they’d puppeted Marc’s body with the Ennead. Now that Marc had experienced it before, Khonshu had a better grip on modulating his avatar’s volume. 

“Typical man, telling a woman how and how much to feel,” Sigyn scoffed. 

“I am a god.”

“That may be true, but you’re still a man,” she quipped. 

“It has been a while since I was corporeal,” they rumbled, pressing Marc’s groin into her hip.

Sigyn recoiled so quickly, the normally balletic Asgardian tripped over her shoes. Khonshu steadied her, disguising her stumble as a dip on the dance floor. 

It wasn’t fair that the mangy falcon was wearing Marc’s skin. The face she gazed upon, the arms that held her, did things to Sigyn. Involuntary things. Primal things. She tried to superimpose the beaked image of Khonshu Steven had shown her over Marc’s features and tamp down on the defiant arousal stirring within her. 

“What are you doing here?” her glare full of flames, “Why now?” 

The deity straightened, bringing Sigyn with them. “Because you’ve fallen in love with my avatar and he’s falling for you. Every damn one of him.”

“I don’t–-I’m not in love with Marc,” she instantly denied as they resumed the waltz. What if he could hear her? She went on, “I do care about him however. His safety and wellbeing is a matter of importance to me, which is more than you can say.” 

Khonshu snarled in a harsh whisper “How dare you insult me.”

“I do not fear you,” Sigyn looked them straight in Marc’s eyes. “In fact, you ought to be thanking me, putting yourself in my debt. I’m trying to save you.” 

“And yourself,” the god pointed out, “I will not allow you to pretend as if you're performing some great act of charity on my behalf. I enable your intergalactic travel, lest you forget. You are serving yourself just as much as you’re entreating my avatar to serve you.” 

“All the stars above, they are not–”

A slackening in the body’s posture stopped the princess mid-sentence. 

“Sigyn?” Her name was spoken in a British accent instead of Khonshu’s dark timbre.

“Steven?!”

Steven heaved as if he was holding the god back with all of his physical might. “So sorry love…we’re trying to get him out of here, but he’s too power–”

His eyes glowed once more and his shoulders went rigid. Khonshu had returned. 

Sigyn exhaled an exasperated sigh at their reemergence. “Do they give you consent to use their body like this?” 

“I own this body,” Khonshu replied simply. 

“Well, that response clarifies perfectly who is in service to who.” 

“And yet they do whatever you tell them to, then lick your quim afterwards,” the deity fired back. 

“You are wildly fortunate that I enjoy your avatar’s face,” her voice lower and more menacing than any of them - Jake, Marc, Steven and Khonshu - had ever heard it, “because otherwise I would punch that smirk clean off of it.” 

“Little princess–”

“No more,” Sigyn demanded. “I want my escort back. Now.” 

“And why should I listen to you?” 

“I won’t ask again.”

When Khonshu refused, still swaying with Sigyn, she began in the same ominous tone, “You know tonight is important to me, which is precisely why you decided to make your entrance now. I must hand it to you, Khonshu, it’s your most breathtaking act of sabotage towards me yet.”

She was right. The Egyptian deity knew Sigyn wouldn’t make a scene in front of so many fellow royals and prying eyes. 

“However, Marc, Steven, Jake and I, along with Thor, King Valkyrie, and the buffoons at S.W.O.R.D., we may fail. Gorr may kill us all,” Sigyn continued, “Or if Loki rises to power, he’ll likely spare me. We’re still married according to most cosmic law, and he’ll want heirs. Legitimate ones. Norns, he’s wanted children for the past two centuries now.”

Sigyn leaned in close to Marc’s ear and murmured to Khonshu, “What do you think he’ll do to you if that comes to pass? Better yet, what do you think I will do after your insolence tonight?” 

“You’re bluffing.”

“Perhaps I am,” Sigyn conceded, “Or perhaps I’m not. Are you going to risk discovering which it is?” 

Khonshu pulled away so they could see Sigyn’s face. She sneered at him, “You will continue to permit your avatar to partner with me to stop Loki, and provide transport for us whenever we require it. Now return my escort to me.” 

In lieu of a verbal reply, Khonshu merely cooperated, the body nearly collapsing on top of Sigyn when it was returned to Marc. 

“Marc, darling, are you alright?” She held him close to her. 

“Yeah…” he was panting as if he’d run a marathon, “yeah I’m fine. Can we sit down?” 

“Of course, sweetheart,” she cooed. The Asgardian and Marc rarely used pet names with each other, but in this moment after witnessing Khonshu’s cruelty, Sigyn couldn’t help herself. 

They left the dance floor. Marc sank down onto one of the plush red velvet couches that were dotted around the edges of the spacious room. 

Sigyn sat with him, rubbing his back. “Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Yeah, I will be,” he assured her. “Just need a moment.” 

Sigyn removed her hand to allow Marc his space. She kept quiet and flagged one of the servers, requesting a glass of water for her partner. 

“Thank you,” Marc said when the server returned with the glass. 

She surveyed Marc expectantly. “Would you like to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Marc answered honestly. “He’s done it before, but only when the Ennead convenes. It’s something I can’t get used to though.” 

“I’m sure.” 

Marc sent the princess a wry grin. “You were pretty fucking formidable back there.” 

“Don’t sound so surprised,” she teased. “How do you think I was able to keep Loki in line for as long as I did?” 

Her quip prompted a question from Marc. He tried to make it sound nonchalant. “So you two are still married?”

“Only legally. It’s similar to that term you told me, for when spouses have decided to no longer stay together but yet to properly divorce.”

“Separated,” he supplied for her.

“Yes, we’re separated.” 

“Would you take him back if he won? If he became the sole god in the multiverse?” 

“If it meant protecting those I care about, yes. I would.” 

Marc respected her honesty. “You know I always wondered why you two—you…you didn’t have kids.” 

“No child of mine will ever be used as a pawn, and that’s exactly what they’d be if we’d had one,” Sigyn explained. “In my universe Thor, much like the one here, is still unwed and childless. So I knew, no matter how much he’d deny it, that if I gave birth before Thor married and had an heir of his own, Loki would use our child as a bargaining chip to ascend the throne before his brother.”

“I can see why you wouldn't want to bring a kind into that,” Marc sympathized.

“I appreciate that,” she managed. 

The two watched the other couples dancing in silence. Marc was surprised at how light the hulking god of thunder was on his feet. 

Marc leaned over to Sigyn, “For the record, I don’t think I serve you.” 

The Asgardian was diffident. “I’m glad.” 

“And I really want to kiss you right now,” he confessed.  

“We promised we wouldn’t.” 

“That was before I saw you in this dress.” 

“You think it’s been any easier for me with you looking like that?” 

“Sigyn,” he rasped, crowding her space further.  

The princess was on the verge of succumbing to Marc, breaking their mutual promise, when Thor strode up to them and interrupted, “Thankfully that’s over!” 

Marc and Sigyn sprang apart. The Avenger pretended to be oblivious and continued, “Did anyone else feel the weird energy out there just now? Marc, my man, you’ve been holding back your dance moves!”

“What is it, brother?” Sigyn unsuccessfully masked the irritation in her voice, refusing to take her eyes off her escort. 

“Valkyrie’s rounding up the Wakandans, it’s time.”

Ah. That. Sigyn turned to Thor. “Marc should come.” 

“Marc should stay and be eyes on the ballroom while we’re away, like we discussed,” Thor was doing the thing where he sounded overly upbeat to mask his frustration. 

Marc could sense it. He pecked Sigyn’s lips, effectively kissing the pout off of her face. “We should stick to the plan. I’m fine here.”

At last she agreed and rose from the red cushions. “We won’t be gone long, and you’ll pay for that, Spector.”

Marc winked. “I sure hope so.”

As Sigyn and Thor departed, the god whispered, “You said it was casual.” 

“It is,” she countered, looking anywhere but Thor’s face.

“You two are acting like you’re square in the sexily-denying-their-feeling-for-each-other phase of any good rom-com,” Thor shot back. 

Sigyn glared at him. “You need to lay off the Midgardian entertainment, I think.” 

***

Marc set about sweeping the room in his date’s absence. He grabbed a glass of champagne from a server, not to drink, but as a prop for a very fake casual stroll around the room. Sigyn had warned him that Loki was a shapeshifter, so he did a lap to see if anyone, even the most innocuous attendees, perhaps the Queen herself, was tailing or watching him. 

Who Marc found instead knocked the wind out of him. He blinked in disbelief, sure that the vision in front of him was in fact a hallucination. It wasn’t though, because once they locked eyes, she made her way over to him instead of disintegrating before him. 

It was his ex-wife. 

Where Sigyn had opted for a timeless subtle elegance with her gown, she had eschewed tradition and wore a much more modern ensemble. A cap-sleeved orange crop top showcased her broad shoulders, then stopped at the center of her rib cage, revealing a delectable strip of tawny skin at her midsection. A voluminous matching orange skirt bloomed from her waist, everything accented by the dainty gold jewelry she wore. 

She looked gorgeous. He was going to need that champagne after all.  

“Layla?!”

“Hi Marc.” 

He tried not to betray just how much he was reeling at her presence. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I could say the same about you. Of all the colonizer palaces in all the cities in the world…”

A nervous laugh escaped Marc at her Casablanca reference. He took a pull from his champagne flute to ease him. “Sorry, I sound like a dick for asking, but why are you here?”

“I've been consulting for the Wakandans on recovering stolen artifacts,” she informed him. Layla kept her voice carefully guarded and aloof. It stung to realize Marc was no longer privy to Layla’s adventures. 

He attempted to wheedle them out of her anyway. “What, you going to use the party as cover to make a play tonight?

Layla ignored her ex-husband’s question and sipped her respective champagne instead. “The reason you’re here made it pretty clear when she paraded you in earlier.”

Marc’s cheeks burned. Layla knew how much he hated pomp. “It’s…it’s not like that. We’re working together.”

Layla shot him her signature “don’t bullshit me” look but Marc doubled down. 

“Seriously, there’s a threat involving an alien and a Norse god and I’m helping the Asgardians track them down before they can do too much damage.” 

Her laser gaze intensified. Layla knew him too well, and knew he wasn’t telling the whole truth. She cursed the dark, masochistic part of her that wanted to hear Marc say that they were sleeping together. 

Marc didn’t feel the need to. Instead, he swore, “It’s casual. I don’t think either of us know what we are, or care to. No labels, no commitments.”

“You committed to learning the waltz.”

“You look great,” Marc changed the subject, one in which he could actually tell the truth. 

“Marc—“

“Are you still working with Tawaret?” Marc pressed. 

“Do you miss me?” 

Yes, said his gut. He hated himself for it. The divorce was final, Marc still considered Layla as his wife. Deep down he knew he could fuck Sigyn six ways to Sunday and still a little part of him would miss Layla. It wasn't fair to his Asgardian lover, and it was bloody painful for Marc. 

Marc searched for an adequate answer. He did miss her, and after everything they went through in Cairo, they thought they could give their marriage another chance. But Marc couldn’t shake the guilt that he’d condemned the person he loved most to the same servitude he entrapped himself in. 

Though Tawaret was much kinder to her avatar than Khonshu to him, it also wasn’t lost on Marc how she blossomed in her new role as Cairo’s resident superhero. Not to mention the discovery of Jake threw him for a loop. Ultimately, he filed the divorce papers again because Marc believed he needed to allow Layla to enter this new chapter of her life unencumbered with his baggage, his DID, his love for others to exploit to get to her.

While Marc’s thoughts raced, Sigyn rushed to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder and melding herself into his side with a blind fluidity. 

“Darling, Thor’s insisting that you sit for the Asgardian delegation photograph, and he won’t listen to me when I insisted we’ve put you through enough this evening. It’s his attempt at a fraternal gesture, I suppose, but we must—“ 

“Sigyn, this is Layla El-Faouly.”

The princess faltered, taking in the sight of the caramel skinned, raven haired beauty before her. Her mane of dark curls were reminiscent of a regal lioness, her eyes inquisitive as a hawk’s. 

Sigyn felt her heart fracture and jealousy bloom in its cracks. Khonshu had been more right about her feelings for Marc than she’d cared to admit. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“And yours, my lady,” Layla responded without missing a beat. 

“Call me Sigyn, please.” The princess searched for something more to say, something safe. “Are you enjoying tonight’s festivities?”

“Very much so.”

“Yes, the British certainly know how to entertain their guests.”

“As well as subjugate and steal from other cultures,” added Layla. 

Sigyn’s eyebrows shot up. “I ought to have done more research on our hosts it seems.”

“Didn’t you say you two needed to be going?” Layla asked in a deceptively airy tone, zeroing in on her ex-husband.

Sigyn also looked to Marc for help. He felt like a deer caught in not one, but two, deadly hunters' crosshairs. 

The Asgardian broke the silence. “Right…well, I could always tell Thor that I couldn’t find you Marc, if you two have more to discuss.”

“No, let’s go,” he answered at last. The decision to leave with Sigyn hurt Layla more than if Marc had stabbed her in the heart. 

Sigyn turned to the exquisite Egyptian. “It was lovely meeting you.”

“And you, Sigyn.”

The princess waited until they were far enough away to remark coolly, “She’s stunning.”

Marc tensed. “Sigyn...” 

“Though I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,” she mused, drinking in the figure Marc cut in his tux. “You two make a beautiful couple.” 

“Stop.” 

Sigyn glowered at him. Marc moved in closer, put his hand on the bare skin of her back, just under where the sapphire dangled. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know, Marc, are you?” she shot back, angling away from his touch. “You said all of nothing back there.”

“I don’t want to do this right now,” Marc huffed. 

“How fortunate, neither do I,” Sigyn parried, her mounting anger causing her to walk faster, “So if there’s one of you in there who hasn’t been with her I would much rather speak to them.” 

That was despicable, she thought as soon as the words had left her mouth. Sigyn had no right to speak to Marc like that, to treat him as interchangeable, to demand a more convenient alter at any given moment. Yet before the Asgaridan could apologize, a pair of arms pulled her back against a solid torso just as they had earlier that evening, causing the blue gem she wore to dig into her spine. 

“Estoy aqui, nena” Jake murmured into her ear. 

“You were never with her?”

Jake laughed, his trademark humorless bark. “She doesn’t know I exist.” 

“He’s furious at me, isn’t he?” She inquired about Marc. “He should be.”

He shushed her in a soothing tone. “Don’t think about that right now. Be here with me. I’m more fun at a party than the two of them combined.”

Sigyn walked out of his hold, though she kept her hand clasped in his. “They’re still waiting on us. Can you pretend to be Marc for the next five minutes?” 

“Claro que si,” Jake assured her, following her. “Then we leave.” 

“Not that soon,” Sigyn countered. “But soon enough.” 

Jake growled in her ear with excitement. “Por favor princesa, let’s leave now. I’ll take you to a club where we can really dance.”

But they were already entering the opulent meeting room where the photographs were being taken, Thor booming “There you two are!” at their arrival.

READ PART TWO

A/N: I need everyone to know that I adore Layla and May Calamawy sooo much so that every OC I write must be intimidated and jealous of her because she is truly a goddess among us. That being said, I harscore ship Layla and the Moon Boys in canon, wanted to make sure NO ONE thinks I’m a hater! 

Taglist: @starfirette @twwcs

Translations: 

Ay princesa, tu culo en este vestido - Ay princess, your ass in this dress

Me estás dando una erección en medio del Palacio de Buckingham - You’re giving me an erection in the middle of Buckingham Palace 

Estoy aqui, nena - I’m here baby 

Claro que si - Of course 

Por favor princesa - Please princess

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie - Reading List Weeks 141 & 142

Welcome to Week 141 & 142

It’s been a busy two weeks. Over 50 fics for you all to enjoy.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal boosting them. Author is listed next to title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

My Masterlist click HERE

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​ & header by me

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Made for Me - Part 5 - (Bucky x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie​

Sundaze - (Andy x Reader) - @sunshinebuckybarnes​

Secrets Chp 6 - (Steve x OC) - @nekoannie-chan​

Choreography - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan​

Rude attitude (4) - (Steve x Reader) - @holylulusworld​

Aurora - Part 4 -  (Andy x OFC, Lloyd) - @andydrysdalerogers​

Dynamite Ball Skills - (Jake x Reader) - @writercole

Best Friends Forever - Chp 4 - (Bucky x Reader) - @talia-rumlow​

Collared part 7 - (Dean x Reader) - @spnexploration​

Highways & Heatstrokes - Part 2 - (Ari x Reader) - @oh-my-damn​

The best birthday - (Steve x Reader x Brock) - @nekoannie-chan​

Bad Moon Rising - (Ari x Reader, Lloyd) - @biteofcherry​

Mafia Bucky Oneshot - @angrythingstarlight

Down Again - (Ari x Reader) - @navybrat817​

His Inheritance - Part 13 - (Steve x Reader) - @jtargaryen18​

Lightning in a Bottle - Part 2 - (Thor x Reader) - @wizardofrozz​​

Real Life Tasks With Ransom - Day 2 - @wiypt-writes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

What Dreams Are Made Of - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Riding On - Chp 32 - (Frank x OFC) - @wiypt-writes

Saved - Part 4 - (Steve x Reader) - @kellyn1604

Biker Ari - @angrythingstarlight

Wicked Little Games - (Steve x Reader) - @angrythingstarlight

Secrets chapter 7 - (Steve x OC, Brock x OC) - @nekoannie-chan

Bandaged with Love - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Secret Sierra - Chp 4 - @lloydsbitch

Trapped - (Tony x Reader) - @ironlady1993

Tactical - (Frank C x Reader) - @fluffyprettykitty​

Peepshow - (Ari x Reader, Lloyd x Reader) - @labella420

Temples To Build - (Bucky x Reader) - @slyyywriting​

Highways & Heatstrokes - Part 3 - (Ari x Reader) - @oh-my-damn

A Hairy Tail - (Steve x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Fever - (Tom H) - @animnerd​

A New Widow? (Nat/Bucky) - @/animnerd​

Jerk next door (4) - (Andy x Reader) @holylulusworld​

Different escape plan - (Steve x Reader) - @/nekoannie-chan​

Never-ending nightmare - (Ransom x Reader, Ari) - @late-to-the-party-81

Left for Revenge - (4) - (Andy x OC) - @hollybee8917

Left for Revenge - (5) - (Andy x OC) - @/hollybee8917

The Dalliance - (Loki x Reader) - @literatureatthebowofnails​

Give Me One More - (Ari x Reader) - @/saiyanprincessswanie​

Aurora - Part 5 -  (Andy x OFC, Lloyd) - @andydrysdalerogers

Best Friends Forever - Chp 5 - (Bucky x Reader) - @talia-rumlow

Collared part 8 - @spnexploration

Highways & Heatstrokes - Part 4 - (Ari x Reader) - @oh-my-damn

Highways & Heatstrokes - Part 5 - (Ari x Reader) - @/oh-my-damn

His Inheritance - Part 14 - (Steve x Reader) - @jtargaryen18

Lightning in a Bottle - Part 3 - (Thor x Reader) - @wizardofrozz

Real Life Tasks With Ransom - Day 4 - @wiypt-writes @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Prepping the Nursery - (Steve x Reader) - @navybrat817

Secret Sierra - Chp 5 - @lloydsbitch​​

Consciousness of Guilt - Chp 25 - (Andy x Reader) - @/wiypt-writes

Two Kings (4) - (Steve x Reader) - @/holylulusworld

The Quinjet Plan - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

[xalygatorx]

Worthy (2015) | Chapter 32, "Choice & Prophecy" (End)

Disappearing sporadically in public spaces quickly becomes Cora Dempsey's least concerning problem when suddenly she captures the attention of the forming Avengers Initiative, the World Security Council, and Asgard's fallen prince all in one week. And the universe is only just getting started with her.

Worthy is a slow-burn SFW Marvelverse (films) romance between Loki and a female OC. For additional details on what canon is used, see the Prologue post.

Summary: Cora arrives back in Asgard and is immediately escorted to the Allfather. The prophecy of the Realms’ end is reviewed and some light is shed on what set things to changing. A sentence is given to both Thor and Loki for their transgressions with surprising implications. 

Pairing: Loki x Fem!OC

Warnings: None

Word Count: 5.4k

When the blinding pulsations of light which had enveloped her receded, she saw some white spots dancing in her vision. Cora blinked them away just before she lifted her gaze to peer up at Heimdall, who wore a rather smug expression. After the moment it took her to step forward, her legs slightly wobbly from transport, she realized she'd mistaken his expression. It was one of pride.

Instead of giving his usual greeting or one of the witty remarks they'd come to trade at each meeting, he simply inclined his head and informed her, "I knew you would stop this."

"I'm glad one of us did," Cora said with a smile, her gaze faltering toward the stretch of the BiFrost and the golden palace beyond. "Updates?"

Heimdall shook his head faintly and followed her stare. "I have not seen Thor since he returned, nor Loki. Then again, I am instructed not to leave my post unless certain circumstances occur." He paused before adding, "I do know that Odin has been awakened."

Cora paled faintly. "What do you think that means for Loki? Do you think…"

"I doubt anything has been done yet. The Allfather's actions are rarely so immediate," the gatekeeper said calmly as he stepped off his pedestal, his sword giving a metallic whine as he removed it and sheathed it at his hip. "Especially when a key member of the trial party is not yet present."

"What do you mean?" Cora asked, leaning her head back to keep her eyes on his.

"A certain circumstance of my leave is imminent," he replied ambiguously before translating, "and I am to take you to Odin."

"Why?"

"I was not told, but it is not for any malicious purpose. It is likely…"

When he trailed off, Cora's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Likely what?"

"Given their past, it is likely a gesture toward you. For you to say goodbye." Cora's jaw locked at that and she put her eyes to the iridescent bridge beneath their feet. There was nothing really for her to say and, even if she could've thought of something, she wasn't sure her voice would stay steady enough to carry it. Heimdall sensed her unease and asked, "He seems changed."

"He was never 'evil'… But he made some terrible choices, did some terrible things, I won't excuse him of that…," Cora murmured, sighing as she shook her head incrementally. "But whether or not he was 'bad' doesn't matter now. Does it?"

"I wouldn't imagine so. But I saw what he supplied in Midgard," Heimdall said quietly. Cora nodded in a daze; at least someone here apart from Thor and herself knew what had transpired.

The guards parted the golden doors when they arrived and she got a couple of strange looks from them when they took in her attire. She supposed the skintight SHIELD uniform wasn't exactly normal coverage here. Their footsteps pounded faintly against the glistening floor and being back in Asgard proved to be quite the strange sensation to Cora. Especially because this time when Heimdall brought her into the fortress, she wouldn't be met by Frigga's kind, but queenly, company. The realization provided her with a quiet, hollow ache just above her stomach.

To her surprise, the guards at the entrance to the throne room stood beside already open doors and she was able to look directly through the arch to the golden throne before the dais, Odin sitting upon it once again. For a moment, she entertained the thought that this was, once again, Loki, but she was well-aware that this time, that would not be the outcome. The nearly indifferent look in Odin's aged stare confirmed that.

She continued to walk forward after Heimdall left her side, remaining just inside the throne room doorway. Cora's eyes fell to a guard at Odin's right side when the old man turned to speak to him, her gaze following him to the far door before it closed behind him. When she looked back at Odin, the Allfather was watching her thoughtfully.

When he finally spoke, his voice seemed more gravelly than she remembered. "I suppose I should begin by thanking you." Cora started to reply, but no sound fell from her lips and she simply stood there until Odin chuckled a few seconds later. "I feel that I know what you will say. That it was not your doing that caused the universe to keep on living, that it was your combined efforts with the other Midgardian warriors, my son, and his brother that saved our worlds as we know them."

"Something like that," Cora replied with a slightly embarrassed smile.

He shook his head slightly as he leaned forward and Cora found herself walking closer to the greying Asgardian king as he began to speak again. "Prophecies are made for all of time. A very few in many a millennia are recorded and revered as our eventual histories. Many assume a prophecy is unchangeable, unavoidable. That time is a linear path."

"Even here?"

"Indeed, despite our exponentially longer standing within the universe, there are some things that we share and that is a wariness of time, and a fear of its end."

At that moment, Thor stepped into the throne room after receiving a verbal summons from the guard who had left to ascend the staircase and fetch both princes from their chambers. It had seemed upon arrival that any imprisonment of Loki—at least at that moment—seemed useless. Not only was Thor now solidly on his brother's side, but this new view of Loki in a turnaround from rage and genocide caused conflict in the man who had raised them both. He saw the change in their relationship and dispositions and it caused him slight unease because he did not yet understand the full nature of it.

Loki did come in beside Thor in handcuffs, however. Not the full chained harness he'd been restrained by in his original return to Asgard after the mayhem he'd caused in the Midgardian sector called New York, but enough that, if needed, he could be easily put down.

Odin watched both men in his peripheral, not taking his immediate gaze from the barely half-blooded girl in front of him although he studied all three of them in thoughtful silence. Cora seemed to notice someone had entered the room, but she was keeping her attention upon him out of propriety, her features set into a slimly expressive arrangement of composure. He saw beneath that though, to the uncertainty. Thor wore a similar expression, though his was more stonily exuded as he regarded his father upon the throne. Loki's eyes went to Odin, then to Cora, lingered a moment, and then moved back to Odin, seeming guarded and simply waiting for what he thought to be the inevitable.

Behind her, Cora heard the faint echoes of footsteps, but she kept her eyes trained upon Odin out of respect and interest in where he was going with this. The Allfather took a deep breath and continued with renewed importance, "Prophecies may be wrong. The promise of the end of the Nine felt imminent because it was so detailed and so absolute from being constructed so long ago. Eons before this day. Prophecies may also change due to events leading up to them. Variables not originally included in the original scry."

"That seems so absurd though, if that's the case," Cora couldn't help but notice, tilting her head subconsciously. "To predict something so far ahead without the basis of how time would change the circumstances."

"It does, does it not?" Odin agreed quietly, his lips a thin line. "However, the variables didn't waver until just a short time ago. One and then another. The second of the variables to come about was Thanos. He was never intended to become a part of what we call the Ragnarök, the 'twilight of the gods' and the end of the nine realms in their entirety. His interference and rush of the event caused the unfolding of those events to change."

"Was that why he didn't succeed?"

"It was part of the reason. You were the other."

Cora's jaw dropped slightly. "But… Why me?"

"It became vastly apparent after consulting the ancestral documents in the library and the circumstances surrounding the Ragnarök that something was not matching up. The beings meant to bring about the apocalypse were more or less falling into their places… Except, it seems, for one." He didn't need to say who. "Everything was progressing as anticipated until, what I can understand, is one singular moment: the moment Loki let go of Mjolnir at the BiFrost ledge and was cast into the residual energy still lingering near the observatory, which had recently returned Thor from Midgard."

Cora's eyes widened marginally. In the few times they'd discussed how he'd managed to make it to Earth, he'd never mentioned that his trip had been unintentional. And also an act of defeat. Odin continued, "Such a tiny moment in our millennia of existence and yet it all came down to that moment for a new wave of events to begin turning into motion. Had he held on, both Thor and Loki would have likely been pulled to safety, Loki imprisoned or given a second chance, and life progressing onward as intended. Alternatively, his choice to hold on could have pulled both brothers into the void." The Allfather made a slightly impatient gesture with his hand before looking intently at Cora. "Despite the numerous possibilities, Loki let go and that choice led him to you."

"It was that simple?" Cora asked with a faint frown. "A coincidence?"

"Very little can be left to coincidence," Odin said sagely as his gaze moved to reach over her head. "I remain uncertain of how it was done, but your meeting changed the fate of the realms and the both of you, as well." Cora paused and looked over her shoulder to follow his gaze, finding Thor and Loki standing ten paces or so behind her with guards on either side. Loki looked at her briefly before glancing back up at Odin, wearing the most pristine pokerface Cora had ever seen. It made her a little sick. "All that remains of this twist of destiny…is a resolution to the remainder of a sentence."

Cora felt like she'd been punched in the gut, but in the same instant, she was angry she felt surprised at all. Odin was, at times, fair, but he was equally unforgiving. It was obvious that this was what would become of Loki's return, she'd just been stupid enough to be optimistic. 

She heard a faint rattle of the chains on Loki's handcuffs as he and Thor stepped forward. "Father," Thor greeted Odin a bit curtly, standing on his brother's other side.

Odin watched them a moment before speaking to Cora without directly looking at her. "I will address the second party now." 

Cora grumbled audibly, but stepped back a bit to present the brothers with space in position to Odin's throne, standing near where they'd stood just a moment before. 

Once she'd made her retreat, the Allfather continued. "In the last time we spoke, you had managed to make off with your Midgardian goat and the Aether into the Dark World," he said matter-of-factly, but there was underlying upset in his voice that signaled a punishment to be made.

"Her name is Jane," Thor enunciated with restrained anger, adding quietly afterward, "and she is not a goat."

"Enough," Odin ordered and his eldest quieted out of reflex, looking all the more angry that he did so. "Though you were successful in your endeavors…eventually…you went against my word. You endangered the bloodline and the Nine a thousand times over by separating yourself from Asgard's defenses. And then you…" He'd moved his gaze to Loki. "You have committed multiple accounts of treason, not to mention acts of attempted tyranny, theft, running rogue, defiance of direct orders, subduing and impersonating the sovereign ruler of Asgard, and, of course, mass genocide in Midgard. These acts are unforgivable and no amount of justice you returned to your name in the path of Thanos in these past days may erase these crimes from your history. Do you understand?"

Thor shifted his weight forward as he moved to interject, but Odin silenced him with one look. Cora saw the slight fall in Loki's shoulders as he replied calmly, "I understand." She understood the nearly imperceptible lax in his posture to not be a sign of defeat, but a somber hope that the following decree would be one of execution. Loki would rather die than rot in a cell all over again, especially after having been free for just a while longer.

Odin watched him for a solid minute before leaning back in his throne and continuing, "Therefore, your sentence still stands. The punishment, however, I feel must be taken further. For actions past your original imprisonment."

This is it, Cora thought with some despair as it all became startlingly real in a matter of seconds. She couldn't take her eyes off Loki's back, off the armored plating on his attire. Her heart hit her ribs with every palpitation and she felt like she was starving for breath when she was clearly breathing. If it's a life sentence, make it painless. If he has to die… I hope it's quick.The simple thought of Loki falling under an ax sent chills and genuine pain through her bones. How did I get this hooked? I thought I was tougher than this.

As if he knew her inner turmoil, Loki turned his head just enough so he could see her in his peripheral. He only looked at her for a couple of seconds, tops, but it was sufficient, it seemed. For whatever his reason was for doing it. All three of them, along with the guards and Heimdall nearby, looked to Odin and waited while he stared down at Loki, pondering something the lot of them could only guess at.

Odin nodded a fraction and said decidedly, "Banishment."

The shock was palpable in the room as Odin's word passed through, bouncing off the walls to echo through the doors. "Father?" Thor inquired quietly, breaking the silence that followed.

"Loki, you are hereby banished from Asgard. No longer will you wreak havoc upon this realm and its brothers. For the length of my rule—as it will become Thor's in time—you are not to cross through these golden gates but to leave this day." Odin turned a piercing gaze over to Thor and informed him, "I have left Loki in your charge many a time and each time has failed, therefore I will hand over that burdensome duty to another." That was when he glanced past them once again. "Cora of Midgard. It is unfair of me to request something so grandiose of you, but the incompetence of my heir when it comes to the man he calls his brother is extreme. Would you take this charge and be certain he does not cause more danger to the realms?"

Cora, like the others, was in a silent state of shock, but soon came back to herself long enough to read Odin's face. He looked severe, but beyond that, there was an endeavor to make amends. Holding down a small smile, Cora inclined her head. "I will." She was unable to resist adding on, "…If I must." She just wished she could see Loki's reaction to her elaboration.

All business, Odin nodded and looked back to Loki and Thor. "You remain my heir," he said firmly to Thor and Cora remembered the Odin who had told Thor to go on to Midgard had, in fact, been Loki with a takeover plan in mind. He pursed his lips faintly before finishing his point with, "However, I would dare to think that my lifetime may have yet a few centuries more within it. At best, it will have one, which I can imagine would be long enough to spend…Jane's lifetime with her in Midgard."

Hope must've alighted in Thor's features because Odin swiftly continued to declare, "After which, you will return to this throne and take your rightful place. You will be king in my stead. And, perhaps…" He glanced toward Loki with a surprising amount of respect and subdued optimism for his character. "Perhaps you will find council in family."

Loki's eyes widened at last, as he'd kept cool throughout Odin's decrees. It was that final word that hit the hardest where he thought he could no longer ache and he found the breath to—albeit begrudgingly—reply, "I… Fa—"

"I care not for your excuses, Loki, my decision is final. You must endure the results of your actions, not one word you say will change my mind," Odin cut him off and Cora was hard-pressed not to collapse from knee-weakening relief at the absurdity that was Odin trying to be generous.

The Allfather relaxed after that, giving a nod for them to go. "I have said my fill. I will see you as you see fit." He'd directed the final statement to Thor and though Cora knew Loki and Odin were still painfully estranged, she couldn't help but feel sad that this would probably be the last time Loki would ever see the only father he'd ever known.

However, Odin was doing him a kindness. He was doing all of them a kindness by allowing both Thor and Loki to return to Midgard. Asgard needed to know that its greatest defier was punished and gone and it was Odin's duty to make it so, but the extent of his concealed warmth was more than welcome. When it became clear that it was time for them to go, a guard stepped forward and unlocked Loki's cuffs, taking the metal away as Loki ran his pale, slender fingertips over his wrists.

He and Thor both turned to walk back toward the throne room entrance, both looking to Cora immediately. The three shared knowing looks before she turned to walk out with them, glancing over her shoulder to Odin and sending a grateful smile before following them out. 

Odin watched them go until the golden doors were shut behind Heimdall, who left as well. "Prosper, my sons," he said softly beneath his breath.

"I could pass out from relief," Cora said once the doors thudded shut in their wake, running a hand through her hair as she attempted to pass through the dazed feeling that fogged her brain.

"I would prefer if you didn't," Loki remarked, glancing toward the guards at the entrance. His gaze was suspicious, like he expected to be tricked. Cora would love to meet the person who could trick the "trickster god." Then she realized she'd tricked him plenty and felt herself ascend to a new state of accomplishment.

"You better behave," she warned him amiably. "I'm the one who's going to kick your ass now if you don't. And I'm pretty sure Thor would back me up on it, regardless."

"Anytime, little sister," Thor chuckled, grinning when Loki gave a withering glance between them. He glanced past Cora and she turned to follow his gaze as a few servants rolled two carts forward. 

"What is this?" Loki asked and Cora could have smacked him for the condescending tone that came out of him which could only belong to a boy raised in royalty.

"Payment for her services and some for you to take along to Midgard," the smallest of the servants said, bowing his head.

"‘Payment’?" Cora repeated in confusion, glancing at the covered cart as one of the other servants flipped the corner back to show her what they meant. Her mouth went dry as she saw the cart was brimming with gold. "I… I can't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," Loki murmured near her ear. He leaned up before glancing toward the stairway. "My belongings?" he inquired toward the servants.

"They have been left for you to collect," the small one spoke up again, seeming to be the only one willing to address the banished prince. "And only what is necessary may go, so much as you may carry. Those were our instructions to pass along."

Loki regarded them briefly before nodding to himself. "I will return presently," he informed them.

"Your guardian must accompany you," the tallest servant piped up with an edge to his tone.

Loki's eyes narrowed faintly on the servant and he bristled before exhaling slowly and continued walking without turning around, even as he said softly, "Come along, Cora."

Cora frowned, but followed him up the winding stairwell to the next floor, pausing outside his chamber door when he walked inside. She'd intended to wait outside to give him his space, but a sidelong glance from a guard down the hall caused her to grimace and follow him in, shutting the door behind her. "Guard was giving me the eye, sorry," she explained as she leaned against the closed door.

"It is the norm. I don't mind either way," he said simply from across the room as he pulled a leather knapsack from inside an armoire. It looked small, like he'd used it when he was a child and didn't have much else to choose from now. Cora glanced around while she stood there, taking in the green embellishments in the otherwise gold and black room. It made sense; green seemed to be his color of choice and it suited his personality. What really made her feel like this room was his, however, was the desk by the window, overflowing with old books. It struck the right chord like nothing else in the room that was triple the size of her apartment quite managed to do.

She made an effort to not watch what he was doing just in case he wanted some privacy. It was uncertain when he'd be coming here next and she didn't want to encroach on this revisiting, despite not being able to wait outside without being judged by nearby guards. When she heard him coming back across the room, she looked up at him, noting that he now held the pack in his hands and some garments over his arm that he opted not to leave without. He also held what appeared to be a gold helmet with enormous horns under his arm.

"Is that Asgardian couture?" Cora asked lightly. Loki rolled his eyes and swung the helmet around to dangle it by one of its curved horns in his hand, holding it over her head before sliding it into place. It was heavy and hurt her neck a bit, but he seemed to get a kick out of it. "Well? Am I petrifying?"

"Truly," Loki chuckled as the helm slid over Cora's eyes. He plucked it off her head before it could hurt her and nodded for her to get the door so they could leave.

"Pfft, what, not even going to try to ravage me now that we're alone in your room?" she remarked sarcastically as she turned to get the door.

Loki arched a brow, a mischievous gleam hitting his emerald eyes. "Would you like me to?"

"Shush," she smirked, nodding for him to pass through the door first. "Let's go."

"You made the suggestion in the first place," he protested before walking into the hall, the both of them bickering amongst themselves as they went back down the stairway.

"That's it, then?" Steve asked after Cora had explained the whole story of what had happened in Asgard to him after their arrival back to SHIELD headquarters. "He's just going to stay here?"

"Until Odin's off the throne, yeah, I guess," Cora said, a mug of tea in her hands that she was just allowing to steam while she talked. They'd gotten back to headquarters after saying their goodbyes to Heimdall at the gates. Sindri and Brokkr had apparently left a scabbard for the claymore they'd made her with him to give to her, which she had sitting with her bag near her feet. She currently sat on one of the couches in a lounge on the eastern side with Steve, Bruce, and Natasha, waiting for final preparations to be made before she headed out.

Phil had volunteered to sort through the Asgardian gold with a few other knowledgable agents who had an idea of collectible worth, since his own knowledge in that department more or less started and ended with World War II Captain America memorabilia.

She'd given them permission to use the artifacts to make the beginnings of Asgardian exhibits in the American Museum of Natural History and the Smithsonian, while just keeping the majority of gold bars in the cart for them. Those alone would convert into hundreds of thousands at least. She felt sick that she was being given these riches, but she couldn't help but be excited, too; she'd be able to pay off her student loans at last, get amazing care for her grandmother, buy a car that didn't have an arrow embedded permanently in the door, and even get a house without annoying roommates… The possibilities were glorious.

"Isn't that kind of surprising though?" Natasha asked conversationally, pulling Cora out of her thoughts. "From the little bits I'd heard about him, I'd figured he'd have more… Godly wrath, I guess."

"I don't think anyone anticipated him letting Loki off like that… At least as much as he could."

"It's good that he did, I think," Steve ventured bravely after a moment, earning a couple of startled glances from his colleagues. "I get the impression that he's really changed."

"I think he has, too," Cora murmured. She wasn't sure if he'd so much changed as finally found some closure in his past grievances, but it didn't matter. He was figuring himself out and that made her pretty happy for him. The only part she wasn't sure about is how he felt being stuck with her. They'd not talked about that arrangement and she didn't know if this was a blessing to her, but a curse to him. It would make sense if it were, but she tried to not read into it too much. She supposed she'd find out in time.

"Cora?"

She looked toward the door, seeing Loki there with an impatient pinch between his brows. "Agent Coulson has finished converting your funds. He said if you gave him your account information, he would just forward it there." With the way he recited the words, he was fairly certain he was just repeating what Phil had said and had not a clue what it meant. "Is there anything else you must do?"

"I…," Cora paused thoughtfully as she stood up. "I guess not."

It felt odd to be leaving headquarters after all the time she'd spent there on and off by that time and she wasn't quite sure how to react to the departure. When she left the lounge with Loki, Natasha, Steve, and Bruce all accompanied her down to the main floor, where they met Fury and the others at the elevator. Cora walked over to write down her bank account information for Phil, leaving Loki momentarily by himself. He glanced over warily when Fury cleared his throat.

"We thank you for your help during the Ragnarök and, though I can't and won't offer you a position on the Avengers Initiative, I could extend an honorary title your way."

Loki's eyes narrowed a little out of disbelief. "Are you going to hand me a trophy as well?"

Fury sighed and muttered, "Last time I try to be nice to you, you little shit," as Cora rejoined them. "You, however, have my biggest thanks. And we'd love to have you wear the emblem officially."

Cora's eyes widened with surprise and she quickly started to decline. "Oh, I—"

"The benefits are great. We're great. The job's great. You… You probably also need a job, don't you?"

Cora started to argue that she actually had a job, which was what brought her to New York, but she paled when she realized that had been months ago and she'd completely disappeared without notice. The apartment was probably trashed, too, thanks to Lacey. "Oh, dammit…," she murmured despairingly and Loki looked rather alarmed at seeing her become so upset so quickly, something he'd not seen yet.

"Come on, you've already got the uniform," Phil encouraged with his usual smile. "And you've got…a lot to hold you over for a while. But you might want to take a position out of interest, even."

His pause on the terms of her bank balance made her wonder just how much he'd managed to get her for those gold bars, but she asked instead, "Would I be a field agent then?"

"I'd let you pick your spot," Fury said honestly. "Within reason."

Cora smiled a little at that and shrugged. "Sure. I'll look into it."

"We'll find a time to talk it out," Fury confirmed afterward, cracking a slight smile. "Now go home and put your feet up. You've been through hell and back this past year."

"Huh. Wonder whose fault that was," she remarked, grinning when Fury rolled his eyes. "I'll see you guys soon. It's been awesome. Hey, wait, where's Thor?"

"Already back in London," Loki replied with a roll of his eyes. "Supposedly they are planning to move back this way in the near future. At least, that's what he's hoping to convince Jane of."

Cora smiled, rather hoping that he managed to do just that. With one last goodbye, she got into the elevator with Loki and headed down to the parking garage, where they slid into one of the hefty black SUVs and were driven through the city, away from the disrepair until they pulled into the lot of her apartment complex a twenty minute-long drive away. The roads were nearly empty with the week's events and a few lockdowns still in place while SHIELD worked on calming the world down from its state of Ragnarök shock.

They were left standing in front of the sky-high complex and Cora watched the SUV speed away before looking up at Loki instead, her brow creasing thoughtfully. "So…"

"So, indeed," Loki murmured, looking down at her.

Cora hesitated before smiling impishly. "Want to drop off your stuff and get some bagels?"

Loki stared at her lengthily before smiling and placing his helmet under his left arm, freeing up his right to hook around her shoulders and tug her close. He dropped a gentle kiss to her forehead and murmured, "I'm never living that down, am I."

"Nope. I'm hungry though, so follow me," she smirked, taking his hand in hers and towing him along as she set off toward the entrance to the building, keeping in mind one of her favorite bakeries nearby; she was fully intending on a lazy day today, but perhaps a house-shopping/debt-paying day tomorrow, now that she could afford it. It was an ordinary sort of plan, but it felt extraordinary to her and she was incredibly pleased with the prospects. Maybe because she had him along for the ride now. Things just felt right for the first time she could presently remember.

Loki was in much the same state of rightness, though he would die before he admitted it. He watched the woman in front of him, listening to her explain her roommate situation and muse over plans she had, things they needed to do, and it was a mundane sort of existence compared to the future he'd repeatedly set out to gain for himself, but this was oddly so much more satisfying. Not the lifestyle, but just being there with her, specifically. No one else could have made this life appealing to him, he didn't think.

And despite his tumultuous attempts at rebellion and asserting his right to leadership time and time again in the recent past, Loki was more than content to let her lead on, and found himself genuinely happy for the first time in ages to have the privilege of stepping in someone’s shadow, so long as it was hers.

That's all for Worthy! Thank you for reading! x

If you've not yet read the bonus Christmas time chapters I posted as a sort of 'epilogue,' you can find them through my masterlist.

[roleplayfinder]

The search , Supernatural, Saltburn, ACOTAR, Shadowhunters, Fast & Furious, Sherlock and More

Heyo! 25 year old female writer here. I’m eighteen plus so please please please ensure you are before writing to me! Now about me, I do work, quick fire would be nice but I can’t always be here. So you may see me post more depending on what ideas I’ve got and what cravings I have. But with my time off you can guarantee I’ll be posting more! Just a heads up I’m looking for clean roleplays! I do prefer discord to conduct roleplays purely for the purpose of being able to keep things more organised! My discord is eleanorewinchester

So I’m looking for those of you who can use third person, past tense and lots of detail. I say this not to be mean but because I do consider myself to be advanced literate, I expect potential partners to be the same! I’m looking for oc (me) x male canon characters from the above movies but I will enclose further fandoms and movies with in the post! I use third and past tense and would be grateful if you do too! Please note I do have dyslexia. I’d love to get some aus going as well as some love triangles. Doubles are welcome! But please note ALL my roleplays are doubles. I will be prioritising those of you who don’t want to double and are happy to play canons. I’m just getting to a point where doubles feel transactional, I’d like to do something for myself where I can :).

I’m also craving; Fast & Furious, Saltburn and Supernatural, (please?! I would kill for a good detailed roleplay), Sherlock (please?!), Shadowhunters (please I beg?!), A Court of Thorns and roses, Supernatural, The Musketeers (bbc show), My Life With the Walters, Hunger Games (originals and prequel), GG at the moment as well! I’d honestly kill for someone to play; Felix Catton, Brian O’conner, Dean Winchester or Jace Wayland, Jules or Mark.

I’d love our roleplay to be something of comfort to us both. Something to cheer us up and keep us engaged in the story! If you’ve got any wild ideas you’ve been dying to do for the below fandoms send them my way if it’s doubles I’ll do my best to accommodate them! If there’s a character in brackets that’s who I’m looking to ship with, I need you to play them! Any fandoms with hearts are ones I’m desperate for!

Fandoms I seek include:

Fast and furious (Brian) ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Shadowhunters (Book/Show verse) (Jace, Julian, Mark)

Sherlock (Sherlock,John)

Superstore (Jonah)

Supernatural (Dean) ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

ACOTAR (Cassian,Lucien, Rhys) ❤️

Bridgerton and Queen Charlotte

The Musketeers (bbc show Aramis)

Merlin (show)

Downton Abbey

Saltburn (Felix) ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Kissing Booth (Noah)

Pitch Perfect (Jesse)

Ginny and Georgia (Marcus)

Game of thrones (tv verse)

House of the Dragon (Daemon)

Death in paradise

Riverdale

MCU (Thor, Steve, Loki)

Wuthering Heights

Teen Wolf (Stiles)

TVDU (Klaus, Elijah)

Pirates of The Caribbean (Jack)

Narnia (Caspian, Peter)

Buffy (Spike)

Hunger Games (Finnick)

Ballard of SongBirds and Snakes (Coriolanus, Sejanus)

Divergent 😍 (Four)

The Outsiders (Dallas, SodaPop)

[morally-grey-variant]

love is a dagger [loki x oc] [part one]

loki x oc

part one

[master post here]

Pairing: Loki x Original Character (she/they)

Setting: Canon goes out the window as Loki joins the Avengers Compound. He's not exactly "one of the gang" but, in a tentative truce with Thor, is allowed to live and train with the Avengers and other SHIELD agents living and working on the Compound.

Loki's trying to be better. Really, he is. But atoning for his crimes in the Battle of New York -- and processing more trauma than he has begun to comprehend -- hasn't been easy: Thor stuck his neck out to get him here and won't let him forget it. The other Avengers watch him like they expect him to spontaneously combust.

A particularly annoying SHIELD agent approaches him again and again during his solo workout sessions, insistent upon learning hand-to-hand combat and close-quarters weapons skills. Six months in, he's impressed by how far they've come, and falling for them... hard.

Summary: Six months into Agent Grey Forrest's precarious "are we more than friends?" alliance with the God of Mischief, he accidentally stabs her during a training exercise. (wc 2.6k)

(Grey Forrest - femme/nb, presenting androgynous femme, uses she/they pronouns interchangeably.)

Warnings: Later episodes become more explicit -- Minors DNI. Blood, hospital/surgery/sedatives/stitches, general angst, mild swearing, inferences of past trauma. (if I've missed something please let me know!)

(a cheesy title *and* an OC in my first ever Loki fic? we're going all in, agent. this one has floated around in a doc for a few weeks now and she's dying to see the light of day. future eps will include TWs for dark themes but right now she's a slow burn queen that might make you hate me a little. things will get smuttier, I promise.) inspired by the prompt, "loki accidentally stabs you while training."

My wrist pins Loki's arm against the concrete wall. 

“Checkmate.” 

Panting and grinning, I flick my ponytail back over my shoulder. My torso edges against his, the slick athletic material of my uniform sliding against his worn leather armor. Loki pants, his parted lips spilling hot breath across my face. The knife in my hand glints in the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows and spilling over the blue plastic mat floor of the sparring room.

Loki's bright green eyes flash a half-second before he bodily shoves me aside, spinning us around. He pivots, and my wrist – still clutching my knife – is now locked into his grip. He twists it behind my back and tugs me into his chest. 

Loki's gold dagger finds my throat.

“Checkmate,” he growls playfully. 

Adrenaline spiking, my chest heaves. Damn him. Stupid mistakes like this will get me killed in the field. 

I raise my empty hand, reluctantly signaling surrender. I can practically hear the smug grin of success on his lips as he releases my other wrist, gently pushing me away.

My fingers spread in a gesture of mercy. As if I intend to let him have this one; he's bested me yet again. His answering grin, flashing a glimpse of perfect pearly whites, is infuriatingly confident. Cheeky. A fire blooms in my chest, even as my heart hammers with exhaustion.

He lowers his dagger, his own chest rising and falling beneath his heavily scratched black leather armor. Lulled into a false sense of security by his favorite sparring companion's unwavering surrender.

I lunge forward, taking advantage of that trust in my surrender. My knife strikes out towards his armored torso; my aim wavers, glinting off the worn brassy-gold panel at his waist. 

Loki snatches my arm, flicking it away effortlessly. “Cheating the Trickster?” he jabs, then vanishes in a blink of black smoke. We’ve both broken our rules of combat now: perfidy and sorcery.

“Little traitor.” He reappears to my left. My head spins, disoriented, as he lunges, and I parry backwards – 

His gold blade sinks into the slip of unarmored flesh at my side. Time slows around us as my gaze flutters from the blade to Loki’s face. His confidence melts into horror.

We gasp in unison as steel meets skin. My body recoils instinctively as blade strikes bone, glinting off my ribcage; the scratch against my rib resounds through my entire body. 

“Fuck,” I gasp. All the wind rushes out of my lungs. Loki's hand falters and his blade clatters to the floor. I clutch my ribcage as the room starts spinning around me.

“Grey, I'm so sorry,” Loki pants. He hesitates before stepping toward me, hands hovering over me, paralyzed by fear and indecision. Blood trickles between my fingers.

“Fuck,” I echo. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” My voice is soft in my throat and I can't stop repeating the curse. All my training flies out of my head as my stab wound leaks onto my uniform and drips onto the blue mat beneath my feet. Apply pressure. Get help. 

“Are you alright?”

“Of course I'm not alright,” I spit, finally gathering my bearings. “You fucking stabbed me!” He flinches away, but I’m too rattled to feel particularly guilty. I’m shaking all over, trying to grip the hem of my athletic shirt with my other hand. I tug, but the fabric doesn't give; I can't get a good grasp with my trembling fingers, but I need a cloth to apply pressure and soak up the blood, I need to get down to the medical wing and –

“Stop that,” Loki says. “Come here.” He conjures a white rag in a flash of green light and takes another step towards me.

Before I can so much as blink, he's lifting my bloodied hand from my torso and replacing it with his own. The cloth beneath his palm presses into my chest. One arm slopes across my shoulders, curling me towards him. 

I finally look up at him.

He hovers over me, brows pinched. His chest is still rapidly rising and falling beneath his scarred armor, huffing through his flared nostrils, lips pressed into a flat line. His dark curls spill over his forehead; through them, and his eyes flash up at me, now darkened by swollen pupils.

He looks every inch a kicked dog.

I lay my hand over his. “I've got it,” I murmur. My heart pounds again; unhelpful. Quickening my heart rate will only increase the blood flow.

“Right,” he answers in a soft voice, nodding once and releasing his palm, transferring the pressure back to my hand. “Grey, I never meant to hurt you,” he continues quickly. “My hand slipped. I’m sorry.”

“I need to get to the medical wing.” My vision blurs and shifts; there isn’t enough room in my head for apologies. Dark red quickly soaks through Loki's white cloth. I take a single step forward, but my leg shakes unsteadily. 

Loki stops me. “You're in no fit state to walk. Let me help you.” There's an urgency in his voice. Fear laces the edge of his words.

My breath hitches and shudders. “I can walk.”

“Damn it all, Grey,” he barks, gripping my arm. “Let me help you.” 

I jerk my head up, eyes wide. 

It's been a long time since I've been afraid of Loki. 

He clenches every muscle in his jaw, the sharp cut of his chin barely containing the multitude of biting comments forming there. But there's no fury in his eyes. Frustration, yes; but no anger.

It's fear. 

Black fear sours his expression. Loki, who perpetually radiates cocksure swagger and irritating arrogance, is reduced to a frightened, trembling hesitation.

“Please.” A gentler tone, firm but tender. The vice-like grip of his long fingers loosens. I nod. My head swims and I clutch my forehead with my free hand.

Loki scoops me into his arms. My world flips upside-down; I squeeze my eyes shut against the onslaught of dizziness. Every step rattles my body, forcing me to bite back a groan of pain.

“I'm getting blood on your armor,” I say, tipping my head onto his shoulder. Anything to abate this dizziness; if I throw up on his armor, I’ll probably die of embarrassment – if the stab wound doesn’t get me first. The hand clutching my side, now pressed into his torso, feels sticky and wet. “Why am I losing so much blood?”

“Hush now,” he croons softly. My stomach churns.

I can't decide if it's from the stab wound, or from Loki. His arms curl around my body with strength and gentleness that might tear me apart. 

I can't stop picturing that fear in his eyes. Like a kicked dog. A dog who's been kicked over and over for the crime of loving. Who can't stop running back to whatever – or whomever – hurt him. 

I've never kicked this dog. Why is he afraid of me?

“I'm gonna be fine, Loki,” I murmur, my cheek pressed into a metal buckle of his training armor. I shift my head, tucking it into his chest. I'm getting tired. “Fine.” But my hand shifts against the wound and I can tell the cloth is soaked through.

Loki's chest rumbles, but I can't make out what he's saying. It's a frustrated noise, I know that much. He makes enough little noises of discontent that I've learned to differentiate between the sounds. 

Other voices fill the space around us. I think he’s telling someone what happened, though much of his voice is still a low rumble in his chest. My leaden head sinks into him.

Suddenly, he’s relinquishing me, laying me down on a hard, flat surface. It's my turn to grumble discontented noises. My arms stretch out back towards the safety of his, but other hands start prodding and grabbing at me. My eyes fly open, heart pounding again, I’m gasping for air–

“You're all right,” Loki murmurs in a low voice somewhere beside me. “They’re going to help you now.”

Medical staff swarm as the stretcher jolts forward. I squeeze my eyes shut again. Lights flash behind my eyelids at regular intervals. 

“Sir, were going to have to ask you to wait–”

“I'll stay right here, thank you.” 

The stretcher jerks to a halt. Fingers and needles pinch against my arm, unpleasantly shocking my brain in and out of the heavy sluggish fog. My athletic shirt tugs downward with a metallic snick of scissors– 

I blink my eyes open again, hands slapping against the hands and shears cutting through my clothes – no, stop, and I think the words gasp out of my throat but I can't be sure if I’m actually saying them out loud.

“Agent, we have to access the wound,” a voice snaps through the warbled haze. Someone pulls my hands away. My stomach flips – I can't freak out, if I freak out I'll lose control, I can't freak out, but now I'm totally freaking out – 

But then there's a gentle hand on my temple. “Let them help you.” Loki's voice is almost unfamiliar in its tenderness. A surge of bright electricity erupts in my heart, flooding through every vein and nerve ending; the blip, blip, blip of some machine in the room keeps pace. “You're safe here, Grey. Agent.” He tacks on the last word like a formality. An afterthought.

Although his gentleness sets my heart racing, his words have their intended effect. I don't fight back as the nurse cuts clean through my blood-soaked top, exposing my torso. Glancing down, I wish I hadn't when I see how my chest is smeared with blood. The nurse blessedly doesn't cut through my sports bra, since the wound seems to lie a few inches below the elastic band. 

Another warm, thick sensation spreads down my left arm, spilling down my fingers and out across my torso. My eyes drift closed again – everything feels better now. I can ignore the stinging of alcohol and iodine swabs around the wound, prodding fingers and soft gauze that catch against raw flesh. “It's a clean cut,” someone pronounces. Loki's hand stiffens against my temple. “Less than an inch deep, about two inches long.” A keyboard crackles as someone takes notes. 

“Agent Forrest,” someone asks, “we’re going to stitch up the wound now. All right?” 

“Mmm,” I hum, rolling my head so the elastic of my ponytail doesn't dig into my skull. Loki's thumb strokes against my temple. The needle and surgical thread tug against the tender skin over my ribcage, pulling and tightening and piercing over and over again.

Voices echo from down the hall. The warm, brain-addling sedative conjures up familiar characters for a dream half-rooted in reality. Shouting voices, and the tenor of someone familiar, authoritative, and very pissed right outside the door.

“You're fucking kidding me. You let him in there with her?” 

“Mr. Stark, the doctor is right in the middle of the procedure,” a female voice insists. 

“And I pay the doctor's salary,” Tony shouts as if he's right at my feet. I force my eyes open – I hate this dream. I don't want Tony in my dream. 

Oh. Red-faced and seething, what I can only assume is a very real Tony Stark looms over the end of my bed. Shame, and something like fear burn in my chest, tugging me to the surface of the drug-induced fog.

“Mr. Stark, I must insist, the patient's wound–” the doctor insists, turning his head but remaining hunched over my torso.

“Nurse, call security,” Tony barks. “Scratch that. I'll escort the threat out myself.”

“Tony, it's not what it looks like–” Loki says. His hand never leaves my head, cradling it tenderly even as he raises his voice. The doctor shakes his head and finishes up the last stitches.

“You fucking stabbed Agent Forrest?” Tony growls, lifting his arm – his finger trails along the metal cuff at his wrist, preparing to summon one of his suits. 

“Not in the hospital!” The nurse shouts, jumping to her feet. Her voice is weighted with enough authority that even Tony pauses. “Take it outside. We have seriously sick people here.”

“You let her attacker into the room with her,” Tony counters, thrusting a finger towards Loki. “He could slaughter all of you before you could scream for help.”

“He brought her here, Mr. Stark,” the doctor says, tying off the last stitch. “If he wanted to kill any of us, he's had plenty of time.”

“Tony…” I grumble. My tongue is thick and heavy in my mouth. Loki's hand slips away from my temple. I shift my head as the cradle of his fingers disappears. My leaden skull feels like it’s swollen twice its size. “Too much morphine.” I blink hard, my brow creased in concentration. Why am I so loopy? “If Loki wanted t’kill me, I’d’ve killed him. I'm fine. 's an accident.” 

“We’ll take you off the IV,” the nurse explained, coming closer to pinch and prod at my arm. “The wound is fairly shallow.”

“See?” I raise my arm, gesturing to the nurse. “Fine.”

“You got lucky, Forrest. This man has stabbed more Avengers than not,” Tony counters, ignoring my morphine-drunk threat. “You have ten seconds before I throw you out that window, space man.”

“Stupid, Tony,” I grumble, growing frustrated. Bracing my forearms against the bed, I push myself up. Loki stops me before the nurses can so much as flinch.

“Lie down,” he says, finally stepping into my line of sight. 

“Oh my god, Loki,” I gasp, blinking hard. He's completely drenched in blood – my blood. My hand flies up to brush against the front of his armor.

He lowers a hand to brace against my chest before quickly reconsidering and pushing down on my shoulder. Soft green light flashes in my periphery and a pillow cushions the back of my head as he lowers me back onto the stretcher. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he continues urgently. 

I resign myself to a more horizontal position, but I still reach out towards him. IV tubes tug against my arm, but my hand rests flat against the blood-smeared leather protecting his torso. “Fuck… bled all over you.”

Loki smirks. His hand wraps around mine, lowering it back to my side. “An excuse to requisition something new from the armory,” he answers. His hands are coated in my blood, too. “Something with a bit more gold, perhaps?”

“Black and gold,” I hum. “Green’s more your color.”

“Are we done here?” Tony snaps, and my tunneled vision explodes back out into the room. I'd forgotten the room was full of people.

“Tony…” I murmur. My head is starting to clear somewhat. “Loki wasn't trying to kill me. It was an accident. My fault.”

“Mr. Stark, the patient needs to rest,” the nurse interjects, clipboard chart clutched in her hand. “I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave.”

Tony storms out. In the hall, I can hear him demanding to have a word with someone about hospital security.

Loki smirks down at me, though his face is still pale. Paler than usual.

“You too, Mr. Laufeyson,” the nurse adds. She wedges herself between us, forcing him to step to the side.

“No,” I groan. “Let him stay. Loki, stay with me. I hate it here.”

Loki's hand strokes my temple again. The nurse frowns down at me as she changes the IV. A new bag, heavy with dark blood, sags from the silver pole behind her.

“We finally got your blood type from your file,” she explains. “Your… friend can stay while you receive the infusion.”

Loki pushes back hair that clings to my forehead, still damp with drying sweat. “Don't leave, Loki.” I wince against the pinching sensations and beads of blood welling up as she removes the first line and places another for the blood.

“I'm not going anywhere.”

[continue reading in part two]