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morganas-pendragons · 4 months

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ache | fourteen

this got away from me sooooooo quickly, I hope you like it!

The first time you met him, he didn't have to tell you how old he was. You were well versed in reading people. In distinguishing those hidden details between the lines, between the cracks of the person, and recognizing the little things no one else could bother to care about.

You knew he was old. You didn't know he was forever. You didn't know that he'd been running for so long that he'd never allowed himself to learn how to stop. To plant his feet in one place, to inhale, to exhale.

You didn't realize how much he craved you. How he craved you like the oxygen he has not breathed in since Gallifrey. Since the last time he allowed himself to simply exist without having to flee to the next destination.

The Doctor. The man who keeps running, because he dare not look back.

But with you... when he left you...

Oh, he did. You just didn't know.

Kate Lethbridge-Stewart found you in the aftermath of the Doctor's departure. You were sitting on the park bench where the TARDIS had last dropped you off, knees drawn to your chest and eyes blankly staring at the spot in hopes the box would materialize.

It never did. Every time you sat here and thought about it, about him, your chest ached so badly. Like it was seeking the oxygen it had been deprived of.

She'd sat beside you and waited until you turned your head to acknowledge her, "Whatever it is, I'm not interested. I'm waiting for a friend to come back."

There's so little hope in your voice. You know he's not coming back. You know, but you hope, because The Doctor can ease that ache in your chest and breathe that air back into your lungs.

You wish you hadn't been so impressionable. He'd flashed those marvelous brown eyes and that charming smile. That was all it took.

And when he'd laid those bleeding hearts in your hands, you'd let the blood run through your fingers and held them close to your chest. You'd protected them. Cherished them.

And then you'd thrown them back in the TARDIS. Left to fend for themselves. Left to bleed again.

The ache just won't go away.

"Your friend is a notorious runner," Kate remarks. "The likelihood is slim. However, I do have an opportunity for you that you could consider.. where he may show his face sometime soon enough."

You heard her out. She told you about UNIT, about The Doctor and his involvement, and you took the job when she offered it to you.

You saw him from afar multiple times after that. You never saw Ten again, but Ten would see you, parking the TARDIS out of sight multiple times before he changed faces because just seeing you eased the ache in his chest that had settled there when you were gone.

Then the one in the tweed with the bowtie. He was clever. Sweet. Kind. You saw him several times. Marveled at him from afar.

The ache got a little bit easier to deal with.

Then the next one. So much older. Older and angry and lonely and so, so ready to give up. That companion who'd gone with him sought you out the first time they came to UNIT together. Almost like she recognized you.

Turns out, Clara did.

"Hi," You turn to acknowledge the younger woman from your spot at your desk and smile warmly. "My name is Clara. Forgive me for the intrusion, but I have to ask you something."

"Come on in," You wave to the open chair with an empty hand and settle your tablet on your desk. You'd been reading up on the Doctor and all UNIT had gathered on him since you'd joined. There was a lot to sift through. "What can I do for you, Clara?"

"I thought you looked familiar. Then I remembered," She reached into her pocket and pulled out an old photo. You froze instantly at the sight and leaned outward to inspect it. "He's got a picture of you on the console."

It's definitely you. You and Ten and Donna, weeks after you'd joined them on the TARDIS, wrapped in your parkas and Ten in his trench coat on the Planet of the Ood.

"That is me," You whisper. Clara softened as you ran your fingers along the edge of the picture, turning it over to read the inscription on the back. That's Ten's handwriting. It's not yours. It reads, When the ache was gone. "I used to be just like you. I was so..."

Clara waited. She waited, but your voice never came, because then she was saying, "I just wanted you to know something. He talks about you. He hasn't done it a lot, but you're the only one he's got a photograph of on the console. I see the way he looks at it. And he's mentioned you a few times. The Doctor told me once that he's been in pain since you've been gone. And I don't think it's going to stop."

And then she's gone, and you're on your own again. She didn't even leave you the photo. She just leaves you to collect your thoughts and the fact that The Doctor has not been able to move on from you.

Silent tears track down your face. You would give anything to touch him. To hold him, to run your thumbs reverently under those ancient eyes, and just... tell him how loved he is.

But you can't.

He keeps running away.

***

He stops cold when he sees you inside of Unit HQ. You're standing there behind Shirley, so beautiful, and so very alive. He's only just come back from Soho.

From the Toymaker. From the nightmare, from the constant reminding that he failed you, failed them, failed all of them. All the ones who died.

"We hired Y/N as a liaison. Turns out hiring your companions has proven to be quite beneficial. They are something of experts, after all."

And then there's Mel, and it's all just too much because there are so many people in this room who love him. He doesn't deserve that love. There's too much weakness in this room. His hearts are bleeding everywhere and The Toymaker knows his weaknesses.

The Doctor will not let the ache infect him again. Not when you're standing less than three feet away from him for the first time in fifteen years.

You have no time to react before he's in front of you, and you can smell him, and he's everywhere and his fingers are lacing with yours.

Something shifts inside of your chest.

"I have so much to answer for," He murmurs lowly enough only for the two of you to hear. "And I know there's no universe in which you don't hate me for what I did-"

His whole affect shifts into something of despair when you step forward to fill the gap between you and grip his chin between your thumb and finger. There's so much pain in those eyes now. Pain from inevitable losses, pain from what he's done to you, pain from existence.

You just want to take his ache away. If you're going to do anything with the precious amount of time you two have, you are going to take those bleeding hearts back into your hands and fix them. And then you are going to hold him.

You are going to hold him with your bloody hands - because when does anyone who is ever associated with The Doctor not have blood on their hands? - and refuse to ever let him go.

It makes your ache less. It makes your pain less.

"There won't ever be a single instance in which you could make me hate you," You admit. "And you will have all the time in the world to tell me why you made me leave."

"The Toymaker. He... He preys on weaknesses. He will know. He always knows."

And it's on that moment that you see something you almost never saw with his Tenth face: Fear. He is terrified. That unnerves you.

Without thinking, you stand on your tiptoes and cradle his face in your hands as you kiss his forehead. It's tender. Reverent. Mel and Donna try not to gape as The Doctor leans in closer and remains there until you pull apart.

"Then don't let him," You say firmly. "And you go out there and you win."

***

"I'm all sonic and Timelord. Take that away... what am I? What am I now?"

Donna is reminded of one of the earliest trips she'd ever taken with Ten. Among the very first where she'd realized that he had fallen in love with you. There's faint memories of Pompeii, of the aftermath, when you'd followed The Doctor into the console room after he'd stormed in there asking the same question.

That time you'd answered him with all the gentleness she answers him now, "Take that all away, and you're still a good man."

The few moments that you get alone with Donna give her the opportunity to fill you in on what she'd learned from being inside The Doctor's mind. She tells you about Eleven and Twelve and Thirteen, about the ones who died, about The Flux. You hear all of it.

What makes the ache unbearable is the fact that when Ten died, he died alone. And that's the worst part.

Because you'd broken your promise that he'd never be alone again. Despite the fact he'd forced you out, you'd failed him.

And now here you stood.

"Hey," Donna's hand rests on your shoulder as your eyes flicker over to the Doctor, who now stands mere feet in front of the Toymaker. "You'll be with him soon enough."

Seconds after she says it, the air is pierced by a scream as the galvanizing beam activates, and it is shot straight through The Doctor. Mel's hand is going white from how hard you are gripping it.

"I played one game with the first Doctor, the second game with the second Doctor, and I will play the next game with the next Doctor!" The Toymaker exclaims boldly.

You don't realize you're the one screaming until the beam turns off.

He falls to his knees. The last time he'd done that that you had seen was when you walked out of the TARDIS. Defeat. Resignation.

You wait for the regeneration energy to appear. You're about to lose this face, again, and there's not a single thing you can do about it. Not until Donna's voice speaks up again and shouts, "He's not dying alone!"

"You can do what you like to me," You're speaking before you can stop yourself. "But I'm going to be with him. I keep my word. And I won't fail him again."

Mel nods her confirmation to both remarks. You steel your expression as you pursue Donna and Mel toward the Doctor. You cannot be falling apart right now. The ache is not allowed to consume you when it is him who is about to die, to change, to become another man.

Everything in the world around you disappears when you meet those eyes. Those kind, sad eyes that have always looked at you with such reverence and devotion. Those are the eyes of a man who you would burn the galaxies and all within it if it gives him some peace.

The words are on his tongue, so ready to be said. The ache has made the weight of keeping those words to himself unbearable.

He knows though. In that moment, he knows. He will love you eternally. No matter the face.

"It's okay," You say confidently. "It's okay."

"It's not dying."

"But you're going to be someone else." Mel interjects. The Doctor's eyes travel between the three of you. His former companion, his best friend, and his love. "It doesn't matter who. 'Cause every single one of you is fantastic."

He meets your eyes head on, and you rest a singular hand between his hearts.

"Here we go again," He murmurs. "Allonsy."

***

There are two of them. Two Doctors. The older one, the newer one, wears something you've never seen on The Doctor. He wears the mark of acceptance. Or peace.

Probably both.

But the way he looks at you? Oh, the way he looks at you. It's like he knows something that you and the younger Doctor don't know. When The younger Doctor and Donna approach the newest Doctor after the Toymaker is defeated, you stay behind to let them have their moment.

Until Fifteen looks back and motions you forward the second Fourteen's head falls into the crook of his neck. He already knows. He already knows, and he’s asking you to come step in. To be his sanctuary.

You suck in a breath and approach, bridging the gap between The Doctor and Donna to tenderly run your hand up his spine. He can’t see you. He can’t see you, but you can see him, and his entire being trembles at your touch.

“How many people died?” Fourteen asks again. You swallow the knot in your throat and meet the older Doctors dark gaze, to which he winks at you and gently turns his younger self around so that way his face is buried in your neck instead.

“They’re right.” You whisper, threading your fingers through the hair at his nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. The older Doctor presses a finger to his lips and tugs on Donna’s arm to give the two of you a moment of privacy. “It’s not your fault. None of this, none of the ones who died, are your fault. You want to know why?”

He allows you to lift his head from the crook of your neck. Your fingers trace the curve of his jaw until you’re cupping it in your hands, and the urge to kiss him until the ache disappears has never been stronger.

The Doctor asks with such a hesitation that is so unlike him, "Why?"

And it's then that you realize: For all the time this lonely harbinger of death and destruction has existed, when was the last time he stopped? When was the last time he lived?

"Because we choose to. We choose you. There were so many of us, so many of us who wanted something better then the simplistic life we get here on Earth."

The Doctor shakes his head. "Humans are not and have never been simple-" You press a finger to his lips and quirk a brow, playfully daring him to continue.

"You come and urge us away in that brilliant little box of yours with promises of a better life. An exciting life. Regardless of the dangers to ourselves, we always take it, because of you. We take you in all that you are even when the Oncoming Storm dares to rear his ugly head. Ancient. Timeless. Infinite," You tenderly run a thumb under his eye. "You love so much... but don't let yourself be loved in return. You don't let yourself be thanked. That's why. We love you because you're selfless, because you're you."

The Doctor hates how wrong you are. He wants to believe those things about himself, but he is by nature a selfish man.

"You are too good to me." He whispers in your ear, lips brushing your temple. You hum thoughtfully and reach under his vest to playfully squeeze his hips.

"Because you're deserving of goodness too, my love."

In the doorway behind you both, The older Doctor smiles. This is exactly the thing, the people, that his younger self needs to heal from all that damage. All that pain and loneliness.

And eventually, he too will wear the mark of peace that this new body has been granted.

***

"Do you know why I think this face came back? So you could stop. So you could come home."

The Doctor has been absently sipping at his drink for the greater part of thirty minutes as he basks in the sunlight and the joy from the group gathered around the table. Mel is just barely leaning into him, enough for her warmth to seep through the fabric of his shirt, and Donna is grinning brightly as Rose tells the story of when The Doctor took her to Mars.

In the distance, Wilf's shotgun goes off as he misses yet another mole attempting to emerge from its burrow.

It is the most peace he's had in millennia.

"Hey," Donna's voice softly calls from his left as she nudges his side with her elbow. "Where did you go?" Ten had this blank look of devastation and haunting that he wore quite often when she'd ask him a question about his past, or about where he'd come from. He lived in his memories. Memories about Gallifrey. About his companions.

This time though, it's you.

Before he can properly reply to Donna, there's a voice shouting from inside the house. His brow furrows. All of the family is outside. So who-

"Donna! For God's sake, why does your house have little to no counter space? There's only four of you! Where am I supposed to put this food?"

The Doctor sucks in a sharp breath. "Is that-"

"Don't worry, I didn't say a word," Donna assures. "But yes. Now go."

She says it with such demand that he has no choice but to trust her and stands to his feet. The Doctor wiggles his toes in the damp, warm grass and takes his empty glass inside to refill it.

There you are. Right there, in all your splendor, muttering curse words under your breath as you work to create space for the desert you'd brought at Donna's request. He's at a loss for words.

That's a first.

"Donna, if you're just standing there gaping-" You whip around and lift an accusatory finger, eyes wide as The Doctor's gaze flickers down and back up to yours playfully. "Doctor."

"Hi."

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd have flown away by now."

Be brave, Doc. Be brave.

Your eyes follow the path of his hands as one comes to rest on your jaw, then the other, until you find yourself drawn impossibly close and only mere inches from his lips. "Between you, Donna and my older self... Think I figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

The Doctor's fingers tangle in your hair then and tip your head upwards. "Why I was coming home," He whispers. "The long way around."

The sigh of relief that escapes from both of you as the ache finally, finally leaves makes all of the pain worth it. All the heartache. The loneliness.

It's all worth it if he gets this.

"I love you." The Doctor murmurs as you pull apart. The smile that rewards him could rival the brightness of Gallifrey's suns, and he thinks he might be able to do this kind of life after all if it means he gets to see that smile. Forever.

"I love you too." You reply, resting a single hand on his chest. "The ache..."

"What?"

"The ache." You breathe. "It's gone. Guess I must've needed a Doctor to fix me up."

Donna turns her head to gaze at the open kitchen doors as laughter pours through, and The Doctor emerges with you carried on his back. You take your place in his lap easily enough once he sits down.

Yeah. The amnesia.. the missing years, the adventures... It had all been worth it.

Those bleeding hearts that have spent millennia broken still beat, messy stitches holding as they take their rest within their cage.

Healed. Fixed.

No longer aching.

#fourteenth doctor x reader #fourteen x reader #doctor who imagines #doctor who oneshots #doctor who spoilers #doctor who

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muddyorbsblr · 1 year

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winter warmers collection: all wrapped up

See all the Winter Warmers pieces here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: After getting in hot water with Fury about his shenanigans that revolve around candy cane, you give Loki some advice on how to seduce someone if he really wants to go down the red and white striped road. Even if it hurt you to do so.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: 18+ | unrequited love-themed angst; smut (minors and pearl clutchers i better not see you here if you know what's good for you); p in v; oral (f receiving)

Things to be aware of: besties to lovers; some fluff peppered in there to keep it interesting

"A Team, I swear on God, Allah, and whoever else is up there in that great big blue sky that if I catch wind of one more infraction from Laufeyson, I will forbid him from exiting this floor without at least one member of the team chaperoning him to make sure that this shit will not happen again. Do I make myself clear?"

You all looked up at Fury, who was standing at the top of the stairs whereas the rest of you parked yourselves into the seats strewn about in the common room. He exuded irritation and authority in his all black getup topped with a leather trench coat, looking down at each member of the team as if you were rambunctious toddlers who had a food fight in the dining room around the fine china rather than fully grown adults rightfully confused why once again he was giving a lecture on how to handle Loki.

"Director Fury, with all due respect, what exactly did Loki do this time?" you queried, not daring to look a the raven haired god by the island currently engaged in a hushed conversation with his brother Thor. You suspected it had something to do with his notorious flirting ways with the employees of SHIELD anyways.

"Let's start with the most frequent complaints I've been hearing," the director began while descending the stairs. "He's been dressing up in a red and white striped skin-tight neoprene jumpsuit and asking employees if they wanna--Hold on, you two!" He pointed at Parker and Bishop who were sitting closer to the door, Kate carrying Stark's little girl in her lap. "Out of the room. You're too young to hear this. Take Morgan with you."

"Well shit," the little Stark uttered, making everyone turn their heads toward Tony as the three children made their way out of the common room.

"What can I say she takes after her father," Stark proudly said with an exaggerated shrug. "Continue, matey."

"I resent that," Fury shot back. "As I was saying, neoprene red and white suit, approaching employees and asking if they would like to lick his candy cane." As soon as the words flew out of Fury's mouth, Sam and Bucky broke out into fits of laughter, asking Loki if he could lend them some of his shamelessness.

You did your best to ignore the irrational white hot needles of jealously spearing through your heart at the unsurprising knowledge that yes, this meeting was about the god once again sexually propositioning anything and anyone with two legs. Of course he would constantly try with every single person he could come across. Of course he was never satisfied with whoever he brought to bed that weekend; hell, with the mental tally you kept, you found that a woman was lucky if she was even brought back for a second time.

It wasn't even like this behavior took you by surprise. Thor had once regaled you with stories of how virile his brother had been in the parties they had back in Asgard. How many princes, princesses, debutantes, and dignitaries he had corrupted in his chambers.

The blond Asgardian meant well, of course, only trying to get you all to see his brother as something more than the possessed version of himself that the initial 6 members fought back in 2012. His ridiculous stories even paved the way for you to be able to strike a conversation with the god of mischief when he did arrive on Earth, eventually giving you both the opportunity to be quite good friends.

And yet it still stung whenever you had to reconcile with the reality that that was your ceiling; that was all you'd ever be. The friend he could conspire with to play pranks on the rest of the team, the one he could drag along to try out restaurants that you just knew he was going to bring a date to as soon as you gave your thumbs up. The cuddle buddy at movie nights with the team where he'd get so bored he ended up asleep with his head resting on your shoulder.

You had all those parts of him that he never shared with any of those other people. That should be enough. That was enough.

Except for the days when you'd get constantly reminded that it meant you didn't have all of him. You simply got the rest of him when those people who shared his bed had concluded with getting the best of him. And today, with Fury holding over the threat of undergoing a two-day seminar on sexual harassment over the heads of every member of the team? Today was definitely one of those days.

"Director Fury, let me be the one to sincerely apologize for my brother's infractions. I assure you that we will not allow for this to happen again," Thor announced, walking over to Fury and clapping a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm holding you to this," he addressed the god, before turning his gaze to roam over everyone in the room. "All of you." And then he walked out of the room, shaking his head as his leather trench coat trailed behind him almost like a cape.

"Mischief, you idiot," you grumbled, storming up and out of your seat and marching toward the stairs. "Why did you have to do that in public?" You ignored the amused smirk on his face at how you chose to cap off your question. "I mean if you really wanted to seduce someone the red and white neoprene was not the way to go. You wanna seduce a chick? Show up in her bed with nothing but red ribbon wrapped around you like you're the goddamn present, and if you really insist on the candy cane thing then spiral the ribbon along the length of your--Wait hold the fuck up why am I enabling this??"

"Doll face, please keep enabling this," Bucky joked from his seat, earning glares from everyone in the room. "What? I mean I figured if I wanna up my game with beautiful women I should consult the most beautiful woman I know," he explained, motioning toward you. The honesty in his words brought a smile to your face without much effort. Why couldn't you just get over your stupid infatuation with your friend and go for someone who was actually outspoken in wanting to be with you?

"Alright," you relented with an exaggerated sigh. "Just for you, Sergeant." He leaned forward to make a show of him listening intently to your next words. "Find a way to sneak in music. If she's into the campiness of the holiday, then use one of those sexy sounding Christmas songs. And for fuck's sake, ready a drink or a snack or something. You both will be exhausted and she'll appreciate that you actually bothered to think about aftercare."

"And what about the ones who just wanna hump 'em and dump 'em like your bestie Mischief here?" Sam's words simultaneously caused Loki to let out a low grumbling sound in the veteran's direction, as well as unleashed a fit of cackles from you.

"Truly, darling?" Loki deadpanned, the slightest lilt in his voice toward the end.

"I mean you do have that reputation, Mischief," you said through your giggles. "But honestly, Sam? Do it anyway. Choose violence and ruin her for everyone else but you."

Your words broke the room out into raucous applause as you made a show of curtsying and blowing kisses to the other members of the team. "Now see here, if you actually took the time to listen to her, Jack Frost, then maybe Fury wouldn't have threatened us with a two-day seminar," Tony remarked, immediately returning your sour mood.

"Literally nobody here needs a two-day seminar on what constitutes as sexual harassment," you seethed, leaning against the nearby wall. "We know that when the pipi's shown without consent that counts. We know that if someone puts their hands on us or makes inappropriate comments when we've shown no tangible signs of attraction and interest, that that absolutely counts." You glared at the raven haired Asgardian who was currently approaching you slowly. "Loki if I have to sit through two days of people spelling out the exceedingly obvious to me because you couldn't keep it in your pants, I swear on you, Thor, and every other deity there is out there that I will cut someone--"

You words were cut off as the god tugged on your wrist and pulled you into his arms, his free hand cradling the back of your head. "I know. I know, darling, I'm sorry. I didn't realize it would hold consequences for you as well. It will not happen again."

"Agent Y/L/N, you should be out celebrating with your friends. At least your team. They're all already upstairs getting ready to exchange gifts. The paperwork can wait for the new year, I guarantee you everybody will be too drunk off their ass to even file them correctly. You'd be doing them a favor handing them in late."

You looked at Fury with an amused disbelief in your eyes. "Never thought you'd be a bad influence on us, Boss," you answered him with a chuckle. "I'm almost done anyway. I'll just…conveniently forget to turn it in until the first week of January."

"Atta girl. Oh, and before I forget, good job with Laufeyson."

Your brows knitted together in confusion. "Boss, I--I haven't worked with Loki on any missions for the last few months…"

"I'm talking about his behavior. I haven't heard any new complaints about him being a sleaze to anyone ever since that last time that I called you all in. Asked his brother about it and he just said that I 'have Y/N to thank for that'. So whatever you did, good work."

"You might not be saying that once you find out that all I did was tell him that if I ended up wasting away two perfectly good days parking my ass in a sexual harassment seminar that I would stab someone." Your words made him bellow in a fit of hearty laughs. "So really, whatever it is, it wasn't me. Wish I could tell you who to thank, though."

"Whatever you say, Y/L/N." Fury shrugged as he walked away from your desk. "Happy Holidays and all that."

"Happy Holidays," you mumbled as you finished up the last of the paperwork, putting the forms aside so that you could work on the tags for your presents to the team. You'd just begun to start on Wanda's gift when you saw movement coming toward your desk from the corner of your eye. The silhouette was more than enough for you to surmise who it was.

"Darling, you should come upstairs." You kept at your gift tags as Loki kept approaching you, only stopping when he was in front of your desk. "I can only guard your plate for so long until my brother makes a play for it."

His jab at Thor had you chuckling quietly to yourself before you took a deep breath and returned to the lettering for Wanda's tag. "I'll be up in about twenty minutes, Mischief. Thanks." You looked up and the sight before you had you using all your strength not to make it known that your heart had dropped and shattered to the ground.

He was holding two rolls of red ribbon. One about two inches thick, the other less than half an inch thick. You were immediately brought back to your conversation with him a few weeks ago, about what he would do if he really wanted to seduce someone. He followed your gaze to the items in his hand and gave you a sheepish smile. "Let it be known I always listen to perfectly sound advice, dear Y/N," he said with a playful wink as he walked away from your desk. "I'll see you upstairs."

"Good luck," you blurted out, forcing a contrived smile onto your face as he turned around to look at you. "Whoever she is, I'm sure she'll love it." He simply answered you with a devastatingly brilliant smile as he walked into the elevator; you waited until the doors closed before you allowed the tears to start welling in your eyes, not bothering to even wipe them away as they rolled down your cheeks.

Half an hour later you were heading up to the little party that Stark threw together for the team, your presents for each of them placed under the tree and you dressed up in an A-line tea-length dress with spaghetti straps set in a deep green rather than the more traditional and predictable poinsettia red.

"Lady Y/N!" You turned around to see Thor already halfway through a glass of whatever liquor his massive mug held. "Quite the choice of attire for tonight. I'm positive my brother would be more than flattered." He motioned toward your dress, the knowledge that you were currently wearing Loki's colors only now making itself known to you and quickly sinking into a feeling of utter mortification. "Ohh! And it is quite fortunate that I found you so early in the night; my brother told me that if I were to see you, I am to tell you that he will not be attending this party as he is preparing a present…?"

"Yeah, I know about the present, Thunder." His eyes lit up in a strange mixture of excitement and fear. "He passed by my desk earlier and he was holding rolls of ribbon. He's the present. He's off to seduce some Midgardian girl. Lucky bitch." You finished your sentence with a huff, tilting your head toward the ceiling and willing yourself not to start tearing up in front of Thor; he wasn't nearly drunk enough to forget this yet.

"Oh no…" he signed, lightly placing a hand on your shoulder. "My friend, surely by now you know--"

"You know what? I'm over it," you blurted out, throwing your hands up in surrender. "He can do whatever he wants, he's a big boy he can take care of himself." You placed your hand over his. "Happy Holidays, Thunder."

A few minutes of picking at the food on your plate decided your course of action for the night. And none of it involved staying with the team as they merrily exchanged their presents and got so drunk off their asses that they'd be unable to take care of themselves in the morning. You declared yourself the designated caretaker to the children and the team tomorrow and began the journey back to your apartment.

"Babes!" You turned around to find Natasha and Wanda arm in arm, drinks in hand. "You're leaving already?" You nodded at them. "Nooooo but you just got here and you look hot and we haven't even exchanged presents yet."

"I'm not in the partying mood, Babes," you answered with a sad smile. "I'll only be a downer. You all go open presents without me I'll probably just bully Thor into gathering mine for me so I can open them in my apartment tomorrow or something."

"Really? Not Loki?" Wanda queried, slurring her words and swaying slightly in Nat's hold.

The bitterness seeped into your heart again as you answered, "He's not here tonight. Too busy getting busy. Probably with someone from Operations or where the fuck ever."

"But I thought--"

"Wan, it's fine," Nat cut off the sorceress. "Y/N, Babes, you don't have to stay if you're not feeling up to it. We'll see you in the morning." They both approached you and wrapped you into a stumbling embrace. "Besides, at least one person in the unholy trinity should be sober in the morning to take care of the others' hungover asses."

"Carbo load," you told them simply. "There's a tray of pasta in the catering table, I checked. And if that's not enough, I'll see about making you two some grilled cheeses after the party wraps up."

"You're the best," Wanda sighed, resting her head on your shoulder. "Merry ho ho."

You couldn't help but let out a laugh as you pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Merry ho ho, Wanda." Nat helped pull her off of you so that could continue heading up to your apartment. Once you were only a few more meters away from home, your phone rang. A look at the Caller ID had your heart pumping erratically. Loki.

"Just in case no one's told you yet, darling," he spoke once you answered the call. "You look resplendent. Absolutely regal."

You scoffed into the phone, rolling your eyes at his words. "You're not even here, Mischief. I could be wearing a potato sack for all you know."

"And even then my words would still ring true."

Dammit, why did he have to make it so hard to not love him?Life would be so much easier if those words didn't hit me right in the heart. You sighed at his usual brand of what you lovingly referred to as "friendzone flirting". "So that was fast," you commented, your poor attempt at steering the conversation toward him and far away from you.

"What was?"

"Your seduction," you said as plainly as you could manage. "I know what that ribbon was for, Mischief. Don't even think about placing that back in the gift wrapping stock when you're done with it."

"Not quite," he answered you with a light laugh. "See, it hasn't begun yet."

You could feel what little food you had at the party start to come up at his implication. So he was calling you before he fucked his latest conquest because what? Why? Because he was bored waiting for her to put on her lingerie that he was gonna snap of anyways?

"Where are you, Y/N?" he asked with an even voice, as if he were almost cooing.

"Walking back to my apartment. Actually scratch that. I'm right at the door," you answered as you unlocked the front door. When you were finally inside, you were taken aback at the sight of a golden drinks trolley by the entry table, containing two mugs, a jar of what you assumed was powdered sugar, a box that said Harry & David Hot Cocoa Bombs, and little containers of marshmallows, candy canes, and a little cinnamon shaker. "What the--"

"I used my key to your apartment to place my present for you." Something in his tone made it obvious to you that he was nervous about this.

"You got me a hot cocoa bar? That's--Damn, Mischief, I don't know what to say--"

"That's not quite the present, darling," he cut you off. "That's for after."

"After?" You walked toward your bedroom, ready to just kick off your heels and soak in the tub until you felt your unwarranted heartache melt away. "After what?"

Something from his end made you stop in your tracks. You could hear a woman's voice from his end, which was expected. What wasn't expected what that the voice…was yours.

"Loki, where are you?" you asked shakily, your heart beginning to pound in your chest as your brain tried to reconcile what you thought was happening. You pressed your ear to your door, dreading both the answer and what you would hear from your bedroom.

"Laying in bed, darling." Your free hand clutched at your chest as you heard his voice both from the phone pressed to your ear and from the door. He was there. "Truthfully my plans for tonight were not to seduce another nameless faceless Midgardian whose face I would end up enchanting in order for them to resemble the visage of the one I truly wish to share my bed."

"Really now?" you breathed out, your mind running a mile at minute at his words. At what they implied. "And what exactly were your plans for tonight, Mischief?"

"To lay out my heart to the woman who owns it, as well as my body if she'll have me. See, she and everyone around us have this image of me that I am a philanderer, and I fear that even if I tell her the truth of my whorish ways that she would simply choose to not believe me. I would understand. After all, it would not be so easy to believe that in my mind I have only ever been with her, that as I mentioned earlier I enchant the faces of those I lay with so that my eyes see her face looking up at me instead of an insignificant stranger's. That I love her beyond comprehension and seeing the obvious pain in her eyes the last few weeks as she looked upon me have felt like someone had taken my own daggers to my heart and twisted the blade. I knew I had to make right the wrongs I hadn't even been aware I'd done."

"Loki--"

"Open the door, darling. Please." You could hear his voice wavering as he said the words. "Let me see you."

You took a deep breath as you clutched your door handle, bracing yourself for whatever sight may greet you. Though you already knew what you would see: His godly form bared and wrapped in a festive red ribbon. Like a present.

Your present.

The image of him performing the over the top gesture in your imagination, however, was nothing compared to seeing said gesture with your own eyes. He truly was one of those exceptions wherein reality surpassed fantasy.

You steeled your expression into one of feigned indifference, one that he absolutely saw right through but you did it regardless, as your eyes roamed his sculpted physique, the red ribbon wrapped intricately around his torso that would come off in a dramatic flourish with one tug at the bow settled on the center of his chest. And attached to the thicker ribbon wrapped around him was the thinner ribbon leading to--

Goddamn he really did it. Candy cane dick.

"You look so divine it would put all the goddesses in Olympus and Asgard alike to shame," he spoke softly. You instinctively looked away to prevent yourself from any rash decisions when his eyes roamed over your body and you saw the candy cane twitch.

"And you look ridiculous," you choked out, your voice not even holding a shred of conviction. A lie so bad you may as well have worn a neon red sign saying This bitch lying.

He held out his hand towards you, beckoning you to him. "Come here and unwrap your present then, my love."

Your knees buckled at his words. "Your love," you echoed, though your tone was so laced with doubt that it sounded more like a question than anything else. When you reached your bed and placed your hand in his he sat up on the bed and pulled your hand toward him, placing a kiss on your knuckles.

"Yes," he answered you with a soft smile, his eyes looking up at you with such veneration it stole whatever breath you had left in your lungs. He placed his hands on either side of your body as he pulled you close enough so that he could press several kisses to your clothed stomach. "It's you, darling. Since the moment your eyes met mine."

His hands traveled down to the sides of your thighs, guiding you to rest your knees on either side of him on the bed, straddling his hips. Once your faces were level, you could see so clearly the emotions swimming in his eyes as he leaned forward to press a soft kiss to your cheek, so gently it was almost as if he were afraid you'd break.

"Then why all those--"

"I valued your company too much that I dared not risk it simply because I desired your body," he explained in hushed tones, as if he was confessing to you, as if they were words of contrition. "You were too precious for me to lose to my own lust. And so whenever I felt the urge to shatter our friendship, I would find another to unleash those desires upon. It mattered not who. Even when I would deceive my own eyes I knew it would never be enough, and--"

"And in the process of finding another after another with the intention of preserving our friendship, you instead shattered me," you cut him off, your bottom lip quivering and your heart breaking with the effort you were exerting to not sob and yell your words out. "Every. Single. Time." He pulled away to look into your eyes, already brimming with unshed tears threatening to escape. Your next words barely came out a whisper. "I can't. I refuse to be another notch in your bedpost."

"You won't be," he pleaded, brushing the tips of his fingers lightly across your cheek. "I love you, Y/N. You are all I would ever desire. All I have ever desired since the moment we met."

You placed your hands on his shoulders, bracing yourself both physically and emotionally for the next words you were about to let out. "I love you, Loki." The smile on his face was so blindingly brilliant and rife with relief as he leaned in with the clear intent of pressing his lips to yours; however, you pushed back against his shoulders, earning you a confused look from the god. "If we do this, the sleeping around stops. Okay? Because I won't share you—"

He silenced you by pulling you towards him, your chests flush against each other, claiming your lips in a kiss that oozed of yearning and ages of repressed love. The moment you opened your mouth to him and your tongues met, you both sighed into each other's mouths in audible contentment. "I am yours, my love," he panted as he pulled away. "All of me. I do not intend to be shared, just as I have no intentions of sharing you if you would be mine."

His. That sounded like a dream. A beautiful fantasy too blissful to be true. "Yours…" You tested the word on your tongue as if it was such a foreign concept. "I'd like that," you said softly as you ran your hands along his shoulders, traveling down to his chest and the bow situated in its center, a loving smile stretching across his face as you did so. "So…if I tug on this it all comes falling off?"

He placed his hand over yours, placing a tender kiss on your neck before whispering against your skin, "We need not go further if you're not ready to be intimate with me yet. We could stay doing exactly what we were just moments ago for the rest of and I would be content. Because it's you. I am finally with you." He traced his lips along your jaw and up back to your mouth, claiming it once again in a soft kiss. "Only when you are ready, tell me. Or tug on the end of the bow and—"

"Yeah you can save the speech, Mischief. I'm ready," you cut him off, pulling at the end of the bow and watching the ribbon unravel with a dramatic flourish down to the bed. "I love you, and I want you to make me yours." His smile turned mischievous as he pulled the entirety of the ribbon off and away from him, his hands then returning to your thighs, skimming under the hem of your dress. "You're not pretending anymore," you cooed.

"And yet a fraction of this reality with you is worlds better than any illusion I'd ever conjured." His words sounded so reverent that they alone sent a rush of arousal pooling between your legs, worsening the state of your already drenched panties. His hands inched up slowly, hiking up the bottom of your dress along the way. He looked at you with an uncharacteristically timidity in his eyes, as if he was asking for permission. "May I?"

His hesitation unleashed something you could only describe as desperate in you. Desperate for more of his touch. His kisses. That lust he'd mentioned earlier that he didn't want to risk losing you to. You wanted him to lose himself to that desire now. Craved it, even. Your words from weeks ago echoed in your mind, a wicked grin playing at the corners of your mouth as they came to the forefront of your thoughts.

You wanted to ruin him. For everyone else but you. And vice versa.

As if he hadn't already ruined you the moment you walked in and spotted him all wrapped up like the best Christmas present you'd ever receive for the rest of your days.

You ran your hands down the length of his arms, hooking them under the bunched up hem of your dress and pulling the garment over your head, haphazardly throwing it down to the floor, joining the ribbon. His eyes lit up as his gaze roamed all the newly exposed skin to him, immediately leaning forward and pressing his lips to the skin above your heart and proceeding to trace the outline of your bra with his lips. "No more pretending," he breathed out, the slightly cool air of his exhalation chilling your heated skin by the slightest.

"No more pretending," you echoed with a satisfied grin pulling at your mouth. You brought your hands to his shoulders once more, urging him to look at you. Once he did you pressed a fevered kiss to his lips before groaning against him, "But I want you to fuck me as if you were."

Loki pulled your hips flush against his, both of you letting out an obscene moan as your drenched clothed core made contact with his hardened member. "No," he growled, reaching behind you to undo your bra, the undergarment falling unceremoniously to the ground and joining your dress. "Perhaps another night, my darling." He maneuvered your bodies until you were laying down on the bed, him hovering over you and looking up at you through his lashes. "This is not something that deserves to be over in minutes."

"Minutes?" you huffed in utter shock and disbelief. "What happened, they tap out?"

"Frustration on my part," he answered you simply, beginning to trail kisses across your collarbone and down your chest. "Because despite my greatest efforts my mind could not be deceived. They weren't you. None of them were you." He went on a path down your body, briefly taking each of your nipples into his mouth and laving his tongue over the stiffened peak, down your stomach, and stopping at your mound. "I can tell you now, my love, that this will not last for mere minutes. I intend to take my time with you."

As soon as he said those words, you let out a sharp gasp as he so effortlessly snapped apart the sides of your panties and pulled the fabric off of your body, proceeding to place your thighs on his shoulders and lift you off the bed. Just enough that your shoulders and upper back were still laying flat, but also enough that it would take great effort for you to find the leverage to squirm away from him if you wanted to.

You twisted your body in his hold so much that he seemingly casually laid his forearm across your lower stomach as he continued to subject you to wave after wave of relentless pleasure, steadily ramping you up to an orgasm that threatened to leave you boneless. "Oh my darling," he groaned against your skin, the vibrations from his voice sending a delicious thrill throughout your entire body. "I could devour you for hours."

The whimper that escaped your mouth felt so uncharacteristic for you. Then again everything about tonight felt unfamiliar to some degree. "Loki," you whined, prompting him to close his lips around your clit and flick his tongue mercilessly against the overly sensitive bundle of nerves, and letting out a scandalous moan against the desperately over-sensitized nub that send you over the edge. You screamed his name as your back arched off the bed, the haze of your climax making you only vaguely aware of how he held you still as you rode out your release on his tongue.

He set your legs back down on the bed and you were thankful for the reprieve, allowing you a few moments to catch your breath; however, the rest was short lived, as he gripped your hips and pulled you toward him until your ass sat atop his thighs, and he placed a hand under your back to prop you up and face him, pulling you in for a kiss so deliciously carnal as your tongues tangled together and you could taste yourself on him.

"I love you," he panted once he pulled away, bringing his hand down between you and lining his cock up at your entrance. He wrapped his other arm around you and held you close, pressing his lips softly along your neck and shoulder as you eased yourself onto him inch by inch, biting your lip as you felt the mixture of pain and pleasure as your walls stretched to accommodate him.

He moaned against your neck once you'd fully sheathed him inside of you, the backs of your thighs resting deliciously on the tops of his. You laid your hand on his chest as the other wrapped around the back of his neck, doing your best to move and set a pace for you both but even the slightest shift sent rippling shocks of pleasure all over your body that all you could do was rest your head against his shoulder and desperately whimper his name time and time again.

Those whimpers quickly became moans as he held your hips firmly and began to guide your body up and down along his length, capturing your lips in a desperate, nearly harsh kiss that proved effective in muffling the tell-tale screams of pleasure being elicited from both of you.

What started as a tender, sensual pace quickly turned frenzied as you both began to chase each other's pleasure, your hips finally moving of their own accord and allowing his hands to roam your body, his lips doing much of the same. When your paces grew staggered he moved you to lie back on the bed, your back once again flat against the mattress, and he hooked your legs around his waist as he drove into you mercilessly.

"Please," you cried out, feeling the coil tightening in your lower stomach once again. "I don't think--"

"Oh you can, my love," he countered you as he pressed his lips to your shoulder in a sloppy open mouthed kiss, your brain fogging once more as you felt him flicking his tongue against your skin, and his hand moving between you to start rubbing tight circles on the swollen bud. "Come with me," he coaxed as he proceeded to kiss along the shell of your ear, your moans echoing around your bedroom as his thrusts became slower, but harder.

Your legs shook with how hard your climax hit you, not even thinking you could manage it since you'd never done it before, but it truly didn't take you by surprise that Loki had managed to do just that as he somehow hit every sweet spot inside of you with every move. He reached his own peak as your walls clenched around him, his hips jerking against yours as he finally reached his release inside of you.

"You know, if I'm gonna be honest, I would've thought that you would've gone for the gold ribbon," you told Loki as you two were sat at the little kitchen island in your apartment, both of you nursing your own mug of hot cocoa as the god held your calf in his free hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "I know we had some in the stock room last I checked."

"Well, my darling, you would be correct. But when I arrived at the stock room earlier today someone else had already taken the gold. That was when I knew I had to hasten my steps, make it here before…" he trailed off.

"Before what?" you asked with a chuckle.

He took a deep breath before placing his mug down and reaching over to take yours from your hand, setting it down as well, before he pulled you back onto his lap and captured your lips in a kiss that felt both possessive and desperate all at once. "This does mean that you are mine now, dear Y/N. Yes?" he asked when he pulled away, shock flooding your system when you saw the vulnerability in his eyes as he said the words.

"Of course," you breathed out, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "You're stuck with me now, Mischief."

"I would have it no other way, my love." He wrapped his arms around you, one of his hands reaching up to weave his fingers through your hair. "Y/N before I made it to your apartment, I'd heard that one of the men on our team was trying to find a way into your apartment to follow the advice you'd given us weeks ago as well."

That reveal had taken you aback, your eyes widening as your brain tried to process the new information. "I'll be honest, Loki. If I walked in here and found someone else ribbon-clad in my bed I would've kicked them out. Walk of shame style. Tonight wouldn't have ended the way it did if it wasn't you."

Those words made him pull you in for another kiss, sighing into your mouth as he pulled you even closer to him, your bodies completely flush against each other.

"I'm glad you got the red, though," you said, a wicked smile pulling at the corners of your mouth as he looked at you with confusion rife in his icy stare. "I liked the candy cane look on you." You struggled to move away from him as he trapped you in his arms, proceeding to tickle your sides and render you into a giggling mess.

"My beautiful little menace," he chuckled as his onslaught ceased, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "Do you not even wish to know who it was that would have walked in shame out of your apartment had you found him instead?"

"You know what…I kinda am…mostly because I want to picture their walk of shame in gold ribbon. Who was it?"

You broke out into another fit of laughter, your body shaking uncontrollably as he held you against him as soon as he uttered the name. "Barnes."

A/N: Omg I'm so happy to finally finish this story and finish off the idea that's been running around my brain since Monday 😂 "Candy Cane Dick" story is finally done. SAS, if you know you know 😏

Everything tag list: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @springdandelixn @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @creationsbyme @coldnique

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki smut #loki x reader smut #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes

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bravevulnerability · 6 months

Note

ooh, season 3 or 4 halloween party?

A/N: We're going with season three. Set post 3x06, 3XK.

"Hey, what are you doing hiding out from your own party?"

Rick glances up in surprise at the sound of Beckett's voice. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he assesses her. "You're... a pirate?"

She shrugs and snags the exaggerated pirate's cap from her head. It's the only portion of her outfit that is a costume; her slacks, sweater, and trench coat complete the rest of her typical work attire.

"It was either this or witch hat - it's all they had left at the little pop-up shop a block over," she grins, toying with the glittering gold lining of the hat's rim. "I figured this was a bit more original."

"I applaud your efforts," he smiles back at her, watching as she moves deeper into his office. She leans her hip against his desk, arms crossed and brow arched.

"Thank you. Now, back to my question."

"I'm just... not in the mood," he murmurs, craning his neck to check the status of the party past his walls of bookshelves. "No one notices I'm gone anyway, they're fine."

"I noticed." She says it a little too quickly, and he watches her cheeks tinge pink. "Castle, you love Halloween. You start planning your yearly Halloween party in March-"

"I know, I know," he huffs, spinning away from her in his desk chair. "I'm just not feeling the spooky spirit tonight, Beckett. Give me a break."

She doesn't respond, but he can hear the quiet pierce of her heels in the soft plush of the rug. They stop in front of him.

"Castle."

He lifts his gaze to find her leaning against his window, blocking his steadfast glare of the city lights. She looks beautiful as always and he wants to stand, frame her hips in his hands, tower over her body with the cove of his.

"I'm not in the mood to celebrate. Not while Tyson is still out there."

She nods, not a hint of her surprise at the admission.

"It's not your fault, you know." Her words are soft, a balm to his rattled mind. All he sees when he closes his eyes is Jerry Tyson, the women he killed. He can't write, can't sleep, not without imagining the Triple Killer's future victims. "Rick."

"I know," he sighs automatically, pushing up from the desk. "I'll be fine, Beckett. Now, let me just change into my costume and we'll-"

She catches his arm, thin fingers curling into the crook of his elbow. Staying him.

His eyes flick down to find hers, staring back at him with concern swirling dark in the browns and greens of her irises.

"I know it's easy to focus on the bad, on the what if's and the worst case scenarios, trust me," she murmurs, her thumb moving slowly back and forth along his bicep. "But you could have died that night, Castle. We'll catch Tyson, but for now, I just want to focus on the positives. Like how you are alive."

"Until he comes back," Rick hisses, something terrible and aching rising up from the depths of his chest. "He made it personal, Kate. He's going to come back and come after me, Ryan. And what if that's not enough? What if he targets my family - my daughter, my mother, you-"

"Hey." Her hands are cold when they touch his cheeks, directing his attention to her, steadying his focus on her and her alone. The heavy pound of his heart begins to slow, to ease. "No one is coming after Alexis, or Martha, or Ryan, or-"

"You," he growls, reaching for the sharp points of her hips just like he wanted to earlier. She lets him and he doesn't even pause to relish in that. He keeps having dreams of finding her with a rope around her neck and wakes drenched in sweat and grief, his throat raw with sobs scraping at his trachea. "Kate, no one touches you-"

"Okay, okay," she whispers, one of her hands drifting into his hair, fingers curling behind his ear. "We'll protect each other, have each other's backs. No matter what Tyson does."

His eyes flutter shut and he lets his cheek fall heavy against her palm.

"I'm sorry," he sighs under his breath. "I just... I'm having these dreams and I can't stop thinking - it's killing me, Kate."

An arm hooks around his neck and she's pulling him into her, letting him bury his face in her neck, his fingers delving beneath her coat to clutch at her sweater. She rubs his back, soothing patterns up and down the bow of his spine, and cups his nape with the palm of her hand. For the first time in days, he can breathe evenly.

He's not sure how long they remain like that, his body bent over hers, arms entangled around each other's frames, the city lights glittering behind them.

The pop of a champagne bottle, the cheers of his guests, startle them apart, but only enough to have him looking down at her, foreheads nearly touching, her eyes drifting to his mouth.

A trembling hand rises between them, her fingers dusting across his bottom lip. Her eyes flutter closed and Kate exhales heavily.

"How's Gina?" she rasps, fingers tripping down his throat to rest at the neck of his sweater.

He wishes he could say he cared to even think of Gina in that second, that he thought of her at all in the last few minutes, but it would be a lie. The only thing on his mind in this moment is closing the distance between his mouth and Kate's, pressing her up against the window and slotting every piece of their bodies into place. The only thing on his mind is carrying Kate Beckett to his bed.

Rick knocks his forehead against hers.

"She's out of town, business trip," he croaks, quickly clearing his throat. "Kate-"

"I know." Her hand falls lower on his chest, lingering above his heart. Imprinting her claim there. "Go put on your costume, Castle."

He closes his eyes for a long moment, forces himself to think about his girlfriend, her boyfriend - to remember who he and Kate Beckett are. And what they are not.

"Thank you," he murmurs, squeezing her arm and pulling away from her with great effort. "For being here. For listening."

She offers him a smile that makes him ache. "Always."

He snags her hat from her desk, plops it atop her head. "And for making spirits bright."

Her smile grows and she adjusts the pirate's cap as he starts towards his bedroom.

"Oh, and Castle?" He turns, just in time to catch a piece of candy she pulls from her coat pocket, tosses his way. He glances down quizzically at orange and black wrapper, the picture of peanuts and potato chips beneath the label. "Trick or treat."

"Peanut butter chocolate and potato chip?" he grins, looking up at her with amusement building in his cheek.

She shrugs, gives him one of those rare, genuine Kate Beckett smiles. "Made me think of you."

And then she's turning on her heel, heading back into the party as the Monster Mash begins to blast through his living room.

Happy Halloween, indeed.

#castle fanfiction #castle x beckett #castle au #kinda #kate beckett #richard castle #castle #3x06 #mine

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spyderlady · 2 years

Text

Meet me in the pouring rain

(gif by cinmonzfy)

note: i always wanted to write a kate oneshot and since my peter fic did somewhat good, i had the confidence to finally do it so enjoy! <3

ꗃ pairing: kate bishop x fem!reader

ꗃ warnings: none, just my baby kate being fluffy <3

ꗃ word count: 1244

summary: kate has you waiting for her in the rain but when she shows up, she showers you with her love

─────────── ୨ ♡ ୧ ────────────

It was a gelid November evening, the sun was dim, hiding behind a blanket of dense, grey clouds. A chilly gust of wind mixed with bead-like droplets from the drizzle pierced through your skin.

"Gah!" you shivered. The coat you had on wasn't doing you any favours either. You shoved your hands deeper into the pockets, trying to find as little warmth as you could under these circumstances.

"Ugh," you groaned, uncomfortable. You disliked waiting on people, especially people who are late and at this moment, your raven haired girlfriend was late.

You tapped your feet against the wet concrete, impatient as nightfall approached. It was late fall in New York. The leaves were painted in bright shades of honey, saffron and cider. A cozy scent of pumpkin softly kissed your cheeks but then reality hit as the downpour picked up pace, louder and thicker with every passing second.

"God, Katherine!" you murmured, snuggling up under the tiny shed.

The streets had emptied by this time, the heavy downpour forcing people to opt for the indoors. You were waiting for Kate at your usual meeting spot behind Central Park. Kate begged that you walked home with her, everyday. She did not like leaving you alone, for the most part that is. 'The girlfriend of an Avenger must be accompanied by the Avenger at all times.' That's what she said, it was her logic. You didn't object either. You adored spending time with her, being involved in her shenanigans and what not. But this time, she was late. And it drove you crazy. Like the devil, the intrusive thoughts crept in, slowly. Was she okay? It was in character for Kate to be late but your meeting time was an hour ago. She was never this late. You quickly shuffled through your purse to find your phone and when you did, you were only left disappointed.

"No network? Are you serious? Damn it!" you sighed, shoving the little device back into your purse. It must be the weather messing with the signal.

Soon after, your moment was interrupted by loud footsteps, approaching towards you, swashing against the little puddles of water on the sidewalk. And then she turned around the corner and you finally saw her. Her dark, raven hair completely doused in water, tiny pearls of moisture adorned it. The grey trench coat she had on was drenched and water seeped from the hemline. Her sapphire eyes, a striking contrast with the surroundings, found your own. A tender smile, as if saying, 'I'm so so sorry' spread across her pale face. Your irritation had disappeared just by the sight of her. You were relieved, in fact.

Kate raised her hand a little to wave at you, a tiny gesture. The corners of your lips pulled up at that notion as you let out a sigh. 'Oh, Kate,' you thought. She quickly picked up on your expression and an exuberant smile followed as she quickly ran towards you.

"Hey," she said, out of breath, wiping the beads of moisture from her forehead. Her hand reached out for your forearm as her rough, archer thumb caressed your skin, lightly.

In your mind, you had already forgiven her for being late, but it was Kate, so teasing would only make sense. "You're la-"

"I'm late, I know," she cut you off, furrowing her brows and then continued. "And I promise, I can make it up to you," she said, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer which exposed you to the drizzle. You raised your eyebrows, which she picked up on quickly and added, "I swear."

"May I ask how exactly do you plan on doing that?" you softly whispered, looking up at her face.

"Well, first of all," she replied, leaning in, her warm breath kissed your cheeks before her lips found yours. Her hand reached up to cup your face, the rough surface of her palm was enough to comfort you the moment it came in contact with your skin. It was a familiar touch, even blindfolded, you'd know who those hands belonged to. You were very acquainted with them and they felt like home.

Her fingers tucked a lock of hair behind your ear as she leaned down, pressing her lips tenderly to yours.

You closed your eyes and slightly leaned upwards, standing on your toes which made you bump your nose onto hers. You breathed in gently, her scent sending you into pure euphoria. The fingers of her other hand drew tiny circles on the back of your waist. You placed your arms around her neck and locked them in. You didn't want to let go, not of her and neither of this delicate moment.

The kissing made you lightheaded. Both of you forgot that breathing was a necessity. Kate pulled apart then, a mellow smile on her lips appeared soon after. She giggled softly, the uneven skin of her thumb tracing the hollows under your eyes. After clearing her throat, she began speaking again.

"And secondly," she said, her hand reaching out for you as her long fingers gently intertwined with yours. "I'm making dinner," a subtle smirk appeared on her lips. She was quite smug making this statement.

"Katherine, do not tell me you were late because you were planning to cook dinner," you suppressed a laugh.

"Is it bad...is that bad? Now you're making it sound funny," she stammered and then bit her lower lip. Her pale cheeks were flushed, she was embarrassed.

"Oh, sweetheart," you whispered, giggling. Although you didn't want Kate to feel bad for her efforts, you did find her getting flustered, adorable. You gently exhaled before tiptoeing to nuzzle your nose onto hers. "Can't wait," you added.

"Are you mocking me?" she replied, narrowing her eyes as her lips formed into a pout.

"I'm not," you laughed and pecked her lips before pulling her onto the sidewalk as you started taking tiny strides.

"Oh, c'mon!" she exclaimed, running and closing up the small distance between you two.

You turned around to face her, still taking slow steps backwards. Kate's face was adorned with tiny crystals of dew. Her cheeks painted in a rosy hue. She panted, warm air leaving her pale pink lips. She truly was a sight for sore eyes.

You smirked and faced the other direction and started to run slowly.

"You're kidding me," she yelled but she was quick. She followed up and grabbed you by your waist. "Hah!"

You turned towards her and planted a kiss on her lips again but your soft moment under the rain was soon interrupted when Kate's leg slipped on a puddle underneath her feet. Her weight pulled you along with her as the two of you landed on the wet surface, mud splattering all over your clothes.

You looked at her, horrified and she returned the same expression but then you burst out laughing and so did she. She clutched her chest in pain. You crawled onto her lap and threw your arms around her. The sprinkling rain prevented Kate from looking straight up at you thus blinking continuously. You smiled at her, closing your eyes before touching your forehead to hers, sheltering her from the rainwater. And in this moment, nothing else mattered. What did matter was right in front of you, holding onto you as you held onto her.

"So what's for dinner?" you mumbled and the two of you burst out laughing, again.

#kate bishop #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x fem!reader #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop oneshot #kate bishop fluff #kate bishop fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #marvel

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asexualsoup · 1 year

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Custom poster/comic book cover for 2 Mask 2 Murderous. I already have plans for part 2, which will feature a certain Kanagawa and his game show.

Love this ep so much. At the first "InCrEdIbLe" I was absolutely hooked.

Happy New Year, everyone 🥳

(As always, click the pic for better quality)

[ID: A fan-created poster of an episode of The Penumbra Podcast, in full color. Juno Steel and Rex Glass stand in the foreground looking off to either side. Juno, dressed in an old trench coat, holds his pistol in front of his chest and curls his lip. Rex, dressed in a Dark Matters suit, pulls down his sunglasses and looks excitedly into the distance. The death mask of Grimpoteuthis and streaks of blood make up the background. The main colors of the piece are red, green, and deep purple.

Top Text: “Juno Steel and the Case of the Murderous Mask, Part One.”

Bottom Text: “Joshua Ilon, Noah Simes, Kate Jones, Leslie Drescher. Created by Harley Takagi Kaner and Kevin Vibert. EP 1.01.”

End ID]

#tpp #the penumbra podcast #penumbra podcast #juno steel #peter nureyev #jupeter #rex glass #2 mask 2 murderous #juno steel and the case of the murderous mask #murderous mask #fan art #ladyshakesqueer #asexualsoup

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sea-owl · 3 months

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In your hunger games au what was the arena like for each other spouses?

Like what type of area they fought in? That's an interesting question, hold on let me think.

Simon: Simon's arena was miles of open fields. There was nowhere to hide, and the only option was to kill or be killed. Tributes had to be on gaurd every second in case another tribute or mutt spotted them. This led to many forgoing sleep, including Simon, lomg enough that the gamemaker debated leaking a gas into the arena so the tributes wouldn't make the games boring by passing out from exhaustion.

Kate: Kate's arena was rows and rows of different crops, trees, and other items one would need to help survive. It honestly seemed too good to be true, and it was. What the gamemakers didn't tell the tributes was that each time they picked an item, it was a gamble. Was what they grabbed the real thing or something the gamemakers mutated to kill them. The thing is, Kate's too stubborn to go down so easily, and she took great satisfaction of killing the mutation for her prize.

Sophie: Sophie's arena basically looked like the ruins of a city with nature beginning to overtaie it. This arena really urgered Capitol citizens even more to send her gifts. It's hitting a little too close to home that this tribute who looks so much like their Capitol children is wandering around, scared and fighting for her life. Sophie, who was always more comfortable among nature, stayed closer to that part of the ruined city, which she unknowingly played on the Capitol citizens even more.

Penelope: Up above were a set of islands, each one with a different terrain that a tributemight gravitate towards based on their home. But underneath was an underwater cave system with a few openings a tribute could set up camp. Penelope frequently used to hide herself in between leaving her messages to mess with the other tributes. Being from District 4, she and her district partner had the best chances of navigating that cave system. If it wasn't for that tracker and underwater cameras, the gamemakers probably would've called her death when she first discovered it.

Phillip: Phillip's arena is very much like Haymitch's. Pretty, but all that it really is is pretty poison. Phillip knew the prettier the plant, the more likely it's poisonous and he was proven right when he found plants he knew were poisonous because they grew back in District 7. Unsure of what the other plants did, he picked the poison he knew and used it to coat his weapon. He hunkered down and waited after that. He won't seek the other tributes out but he's also not dying in this arena like George did.

Michael: Michael's arena was rocky terrain with many cliffs and a never-ending fog. Many of the tributes fell or were pushed to their deaths over the cliffs. Michael himself even used the cliffs when he realized one was unstable and managed to switch positions in battle with another tribute who fell after the cliff broke out from under them.

Gareth: Gareth's arena was a little different as it was in an abandoned mansion. The gamemakers really wanted to stick it to Victor Danbury that her beloved grandson would die surrounded by all these broken luxury comforts. District 1's export was broken in this arena just as they planned to break District 1's tribute and District 1's victor. Many rooms in the mansion had a different way to kill you. What the gamemakers failed to realize though is that Gareth recognized many of these items and was able use the broken pieces against other tributes.

Lucy: Poor Lucy got thrown into a swamp, and everything was constantly wet. A few tributes managed to die from trench foot. Lucy tried to keep herself as dry as she could by climbing the trees. This also helped in her plan to secretly take other tributes because constantly looking down for any dry spots made it easier for her to shoot from the trees.

#bridgerton #hunger games au #victor spouses #simon basset #kate sharma #kate sheffield #sophie beckett #penelope featherington #phillip crane #michael stirling #gareth st clair #lucy abernathy

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newtonsheffield · 2 years

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How did Ben deal with the Kate Anthony situation considering he’s just been told that Anthony’s hotter than him?

Kate raised her eyebrows “You’re fine? He was a little bit cuter though? Like his smile was really boyish and adorable? And he was kind of… a sweet little bean? Is that-?”

Ben scoffed taking out his phone and holding it up to his ear. “Anthony, there’s a girl here holding enough Chinese food for 12 people and she just said your smile was boyish and adorable?… Yes that’s a direct quote also called me ugly but…” he sighed “Yes, alright.”

Ben rolled his eyes as he hung up the phone “My brother’s on his way.”

“I didn’t actually call you ugly.” Kate said quietly, her cheeks burning.

“Honestly, I’m just worried for you. If you called Anthony a sweet little bean, your ex must be an absolute cockhead.”

“He kind of was, Yes.”

#trench coat kate #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers #nights like this

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artxyra · 2 years

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The Forgotten Marriage - WIP

This story will either sit on my computer and never to be finished or be rewritten into a different idea in the future. IDK. Either way, here’s the second part of a Brucinette one-shot that I was working on before stopping.

They all waited impatiently for their mysterious guest. Alfred had gone to answer the door. There wasn’t even a doorbell ring.

Despite his father’s paranoia, Damian couldn’t find anything on a person named Callahan. He searched through all their databases. He even inquired the help of Tim.

It was no secret that they were all on edge.

When Alfred returns, a man in a brown trench coat holding a briefcase stands behind him.

“Mr. Callahan is here to shed some light on the situation regarding Master Bruce’s disappearance. Unfortunately, even some things are out of my hands, and this is one of them. Let enjoy dinner while it’s still hot and save the questions for after.”

Dinner was silent with small talk here and there. The family of detectives hung onto every word the man said. Trying to figure out his plan.

Alfred clears the table, leaving the detectives with their prey. Callahan clears his throat and lifts the briefcase onto the table. “As Alfred mentioned when I’d first arrived, the name’s Callahan, and I’m one of Bruce’s lawyers.”

Damian glowers at the man, slamming his hand down. “I know all of father’s lawyers, but your name has never come up. Who are you, really, Callahan?”

Callahan smirks, “I’m someone that worked with Bruce long before any of your arrivals to the family.” The briefcase clicks open.

Kate, who asked to join dinner as support, spent the time analyzing the lawyer. Callahan, why did that name sound so familiar? She ran years of memories trying to piece it together. Her gasp is covered by a feign cough into her fist.

Callahan sends her a curt nod before proceeding to take out a folder.

“For anyone who doesn’t know, there is a Mrs. Bruce Wayne,” Callahan announces, revealing a marriage certificate. Dick is the first to take the certificate into his hands. He doesn’t say a word, noticing the year dating back almost two decades.

The document seemed so foreign.

“A-and it’s not Selina?” Dick hasn’t let go of the document when Tim asks Callahan the question. Yet the uncertainty of the question made it all too real.

“Ms. Kyle is not one of my cases regarding Mr. Wayne. Though, Mr. Wayne did call me to draw up some papers if they were to pursue a serious relationship such as marriage.”

“Divorce papers?” Callahan chuckles and shifts through papers. By now, everyone had viewed the marriage certificate.

“They are on everything except paper.” He pulls out an unsigned divorce document dated a few years later after the marriage certificate.

A lot of things can happen in a span of a few years. Dread fills Damian. Was being the only blood child a lie?

Dick sees the torment in Damian, and asks, “Did they have any children?” If they did, the child would have been around Tim’s age.

Callahan shakes his head. “I’m unsure. When they filed the divorce initially, there no mention of children. Mrs. Cheng and I are not in contact with each other unless it’s to discuss Mr. Wayne and their marriage.”

“She doesn’t go by Wayne?” Damian perks up. Maybe all his fears were for nothing.

“Heavens no, Mrs. Cheng wants nothing to do with the name. Their marriage was not that out of love but out of necessity. Think it of as a business transaction. They wanted their legacy to be protective.”

“This is a take it to my grave kind of secret, isn’t it?” Jason looks up, the divorce and marriage certificate both in his hands.

“In a way, yes. Mr. Wayne hoped that you all would have been of age, or that he would have remarried by this time. Unfortunately, none of those are at play.”

“Who else knows?” That was one of many million-dollar questions for tonight.

Callahan takes another breath, eyeing a folder labeled “NDAs.”

“Once again, I am unsure. I only have NDAs for those not in their inner circle.” Callahan takes the folder into his grasp.

“Then why tell us?” Jason demands, slamming the papers down on the table with no care of their importance.

“Hmm, Mr. Wayne’s will, of course.”

“Fuck his will; Bruce should be the one telling us about this stuff like the man he is.” Jason was fuming. The weight of this hidden truth finally set in.

“Jason,” Dick murmurs, looking at his youngest brother. “Yelling at Callahan is going to get us nowhere.” Jason scoffs.

“You know I’m right. Imagine the life we could have had.” None of the Wayne kids could have refuted that. Since the whole Bruce is married came up, they all wonder what their lives could have been. Would some of them even be here?

Callahan clears his throat. “The W.E. board has elected Mrs. Cheng to continue running the business until Mr. Drake, here has come of age.” He pauses. “That’s if you wish to continue being the co-CEO.”

Tim doesn’t answer the lawyer. He couldn’t. Stephanie rests her hand against Tim’s arm, sending him a small smile. Instead of speaking, he sends the lawyer an acknowledging nod, hoping no one else would have noticed.

Setting down her glass of water, Cass puts out, “She’s coming here, isn’t she?”

“You’ll be correct, Miss Cassandra.” Alfred appears. “Mr. Callahan, please state what is in the will.”

Callahan nods and begins to read a section of the will aloud. “If I, Bruce Thomas Wayne, were to go without contact after ninety days then my wife, Marinette Dupain-Cheng Wayne, will take control of all my assets until I am declared officially deceased…”

Callahan stops after reading. “Mr. Wayne always had a knack for overly preparing. The reason, I am here is because no-one had been in contact with Mr. Wayne in over ninety days.”

“But there that been times when Bruce did go MIA for over ninety days, but what makes this one so different?” Dick points out.

“That will be where I come in, Master Richard. You are correct that this is not the first time as I’m always aware. However, I personally had no contact with him nor has Ms. Cheng or any of you. I was skeptical at first to bring Mr. Callahan here to enact his will, but the Wayne Enterprise board forced my hand.”

“The broad? What does the broad have to do with this?” Tim asks, remembering the unopened business emails.

“The Bruce sabbatical plan backfired. They were already planning on hiring a new CEO; Mr. Fox declined the idea, and legally Ms. Cheng was the next person in line. They had called her to which she called me for answers.” Oh. That was not the news the family wanted to hear.

They all fumble to say the right words. Some got up and left the table completely. This was out of their hands, and it was practically too late to find any loopholes.

“Dinner was wonderful as always, Alfred. I’m sorry that it ended the way it did.” Callahan states at the main door. Alfred shakes his head and reassures the lawyer.

“It’ll be nice to have a woman’s touch in here.” Kate states from behind the butler. “Why didn’t you mention Terry. They have a right to know, especially the kid.”

“Terrence has no interest in knowing his father legacy. Him and Master Bruce had a fallout the last time they spoke. He looks up to Mr. Couffaine as a father figure.” Kate and Callahan shake their heads. They know what’s coming.

The three bid their farewells. Yet, Alfred remains deep in thought.

#maribat #ml x dc #mlb x dc #mlb x batman #artxyra's wips #brucinette #artxyra recyclables

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