#yelena x oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

currentlyfckingurmom · 10 months

Text

Real Cowboys Don’t Run

Natasha Romanoff x female!OC

“I ain’t tellin’ you shit, eyepatch.”

“I think you’ll find yourself talking in no time, cowgirl.”

She smirked, feeling the dried blood on her face crack with the motion. The pain was excruciating but she’d never show it. She’s been through worse interrogations. Torture that not even SHIELD—corrupted as they are—could match.

“How about we start with a name?”

She merely yawns, looking around the dark concrete room.

“No? Alright then. You like steak? Lobster? Been a while since you ate.”

“I could go for some Mac n cheese. The box kind.” She says blankly.

“Really? You are not kidding right now?” She merely shrugs. “Fine then.”

He leaves the room and she’s left alone with nothing but silence and the metal cuffs digging into her skin. She breathes slowly, ensuring no aspect of her body language changes. She knows they’re watching.

2 hours and 43 minutes later—she counts each second that passes—a redhead woman stalks into the room. She sits carefully in the metal chair across from her. She does nothing but stare for 57 seconds. “Who are you?” The redhead finally asks. The blonde offers no response. Not even a twitch. “How about a name? Doesn’t even have to be a real one.” Absolutely nothing.

Natasha doesn’t show it, but she’s unnerved by the steely exterior. Never before had she been unable to read someone. She had perfected the art of body language at a disturbingly young age. Interrogations were her forte.

The stare down continues, neither party giving an inch.

“Look, I don’t know who you are. I don’t care. I just want to know why you were sneaking around that facility. If you pose no threat, you’ll be free to go.”

The blonde knows that’s a lie. They would never just let her go. But she won’t show it. Never give them anything, because a good interrogator will use anything and everything against you.

“Well since you’re feeling a bit shy, I’ll carry this conversation for the both of us. We tried to run prints but they’ve been burned off. Likely hydrochloric acid, according to forensics. Was it forced? Or did you do it willingly? Made killing a little easier, did it? One less thing to worry about?”

People usually jostle when she brings up the subject of murder, but the woman doesn’t move an inch. Natasha is having fun with this, though she knows she shouldn’t be.

“And then there’s the fact that you simply don’t exist. We ran facial recognition, DNA, toe prints, everything. Searched millions of records for something that might resemble you. Absolutely nothing. So tell me, where did you come from?” She leans forward.

The blonde woman smiles. “A farm.”

“Ah, yes. The cowgirl. I like the hat. And the belt buckle. It’s a cute touch,” she gestures to the silver buckle at the woman’s waist. “Tell me about this farm. Are we talking a normal farm? Or a place that breeds serial killers and mercenaries?”

“Cows. Potatoes.”

“Cows and potatoes. Nice. No serial killers?” The woman shakes her head in denial. “So why talk now? Why tell me this and not the goons who spent hours trying to beat it out to you?” The blonde offers no response. “C’mon, just tell me. Weak spot for beautiful women?”

The woman smiles slightly at that. It’s calculated, Natasha thinks. “Because no matter how much I tell you, Natalia Romanova, you will never get what you want. You caught me because I let you. You will never know who I am because I am no one. I am a ghost. Merely a puppet in the shadows. I cannot be broken. Believe me when I say many have tried and failed. I will tell you this much: I am not HYDRA, but I am not on your side. There are no sides in this game, Agent. I do what I need to. It has nothing to do with you. Never has, never will.”

Just like that, she leans back in her chair, her face set in stone once more. Natasha nods and leaves, refusing to show the anxiety she feels about the fact that the woman knows her name. Her real name.

One hour and twelve minutes later, several agents enter the interrogation room. They unchain her from the chair, leaving the cuffs on her wrists. After a bag is placed over her head, she’s escorted to another room. This one is a cell. With a toilet and even a blanket. There are no windows, but it’s an improvement. The cuffs arw removed and she is left alone in the cell.

Eventually a tray of Mac N cheese and a bottle of water is slid through a slot in the thick metal door. She eats it without worrying about poison, knowing they would’ve killed her by now if that’s what they wanted to do.

Tucked in the corner of the cell, she breathed deep and slow as she let her body sink to the floor before pushing through her pinky fingers, raising her body back up. Her feet remained still and straight in the air as she went through the exercise, determined to stay in shape throughout her captivity.

She slowly moves into a planche, loving the way her muscles strain with the movement. When the door beeps and clicks and the redhead enters, she doesn’t flinch. Agent Romanoff leans against a wall and watches.

The blonde woman moves into a tuck planche before sitting on the ground and taking a swig of water. “You like watching, do you?” Agent Romanoff says nothing but smirks. The blonde stands and wipes her face with a towel, leaving the rest of her body sweaty in her black sports bra and sweatpants. She watches Romanoff’s eyes as they move down her body, taking in the tattoos and scars.

“That’s a lot of scars for a cowboy.”

“I’ve been in my fair share of rodeos.”

“Touché. Do the tats mean anything?”

“They mean everything. But you’d never be able to figure it out.”

“I know. You’re an enigma. I’ve learned that by now.” She unlocks a door, revealing a basic shower. “Get cleaned up. You stink.”

When the blonde emerges from the shower—feeling much better, though she’d never admit it—there’s a fresh pair of sweatpants, underwear, and a t-shirt waiting for her. She gets changed and takes a seat on the concrete floor.

“Get up, we have places to be,” Natasha says as she enters the cell.

The blonde doesn’t budge. “Were you standing out there watching me change? That’s a bit creepy, Agent Romanoff.”

“You’re a prisoner. You’re being watched 24/7.” The woman’s smirk tells Natasha that she already knew that.

She stands and follows the agent out the cell door. “No cuffs?” The blonde asks.

“No cuffs. Don’t make me regret it.”

The woman chooses to remain silent, following Natasha through the maze of white hallways. They arrive at a conference room, a familiar man inside.

“Eyepatch! Nice to see you again.”

“Cowboy. Wish I could say the same.”

“Why did you drag me out of the comfort of my cell?”

“Well, glad to know you’ve settled in nicely. We’re done with these games, cowboy. We’re gonna sit down and talk like adults.” He gestures to a seat across from him and the woman takes it, showing no signs of nervousness.

“How may I be of assistance to you, Director Nick Fury?”

“You are very good. I will give you that. But I am better, Hallyn Chase.” He tries to shock her with the knowledge of her name, just as she’s done to them.

Hallyn remains stoic for several seconds before bursting into laughter. “That’s it? Seriously? I’ve been here for two weeks and all you’ve got is my name? That’s cute.”

“Your name is all I needed. Now we can have an actual, civil conversation. So tell me, Hallyn, why were you at the facility?”

Hallyn sighs, shaking her head with a click of the tongue. “I needed information. A friend of mine went MIA a while back. Just trying to find him.”

“Does this friend have a name?”

“Well, yes, he’s not an animal,” she states obviously.

“You’re not gonna tell me his name, are you?”

“No, no I am not, Eyepatch.”

“Well I appreciate the honesty. Moving on. You’re very skilled. What’s your background?”

“You know I can’t tell you that.”

“Can’t you?”

“You know I can’t. And I won’t.”

“I gotta say, my first impression of you was military. But there’s no record of you. So special ops maybe? CIA even?” He asks the question even though he’s already fairly certain of the answer. He slides a picture across the table to her. Three MARSOC uniforms stand side by side, weapons in hand. Every face and name is blurred out. Hallyn merely raises a brow. “That’s you in the middle, is it not?”

“At one point that was me. Not anymore.”

“That’s what I thought. So you enlist in the marines, go into special forces, and kick ass. You get promoted to a team that’s so secretive, even I don’t know the name. Maybe you still work for them, maybe you’ve gone rogue. I don’t know. I don’t care. What I do wanna know is if you are a threat to me and my organization.”

“Nick Fury, the only threat to your organization is the one that’s already penetrated it.”

His eyebrows furrow. “What are you talking about?”

“I think you know. I think you’ve suspected it for a while but didn’t want to believe it. But Steve Rogers cut off one head. Another one was bound to grow back.” His one good eye goes wide as Hallyn leans back in her seat. “May I go home now?”

“Does someone like you have a home?” Romanoff asks.

“No,” she answers honestly.

“You can stay here for the time being. Under close surveillance. Play this smart, and you just might find that I can be a useful ally.”

“I don’t need an ally.”

“Maybe not. But I guess we’ll see.” He nods at Romanoff and she grabs Hallyn’s arm, signaling her to stand. Hallyn gives Fury a nod before following the redhead.

Natasha leads Hallyn to a different floor in silence. They end up in a basic bedroom with a small attached bathroom. The walls and bedspread are white, much like a hotel.

“This will be your room for the time being. There are cameras in the bedroom and directly outside the door. None in the bathroom, don’t worry. You will be heavily monitored, but behave yourself and you just might earn a bit of leeway.”

“Really? That’s it? You guys snatch me up, beat the shit out of me, lock me in a cell, and then give me a bedroom and freedom?”

“Yes. Because for some reason, Directory Fury seems to trust you. Frankly I’m not sure what he sees.”

“Me neither. But I will not betray you, Agent Romanoff. You are not my mission.”

“What is your mission?”

“I’m not quite sure anymore.”

She hesitates for a moment. “What happened to you?”

“That’s a conversation for another day.” Hallyn answers vaguely.

Series Masterlist

#Natasha Romanoff #Natasha Romanoff x reader #black widow #yelena belova x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x oc #yelena belova #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanov

82 notes · View notes

clemberryfriends · 1 year

Text

Ima be completely honest write what you write have fun and be creative go ahead I’m all for it but honestly if it’s not an x reader stop labeling it as an x reader especially if you have a name, describe the character etc cuz you know atp it’s either based of you or and OC and that’s okay do it

But stop labeling it as an x reader when it’s really and x OC I see it on Tumblr, AO3, and wattpad HELL even quotev some people really don’t enjoy that type of thing when your labeling as something it’s not just put in the description it’s NOT an x reader it’s and OC or a self insert sorry for the rant it’s just something I’ve been meaning to say for a while just a food for thought ig feel free to talk abt it in the comments or leave anything u may want to say in there to.

145 notes · View notes

pascaloverx · 4 months

Text

As It Was (S2)

Chapter Twelve

previous chapter next chapter

Summary: You have a bold idea that obviously leads you and Bucky into an argument. Who doesn't like a wedding?

Author's note: Dear readers, I will be writing this fanfic again. This second season will have shorter chapters and it will probably take me a little longer to update the fanfic but I hope you like it!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS STORY, there may be adult content and verbal and physical violence.

"That's the craziest invention you've ever had, Melisa. Did your ex-husband agree to this whole strategy?" Sam asks after you tell him your plan to capture Steve and Killian.

"What makes you believe I told him before I told the four of you?" I speak confidently that they will see things as I do.

"To recap, do you want to be bait in a fake wedding; making two dangerous men come after you?" Yelena seems to have understood the premise of my genius plan.

"Yes, this marriage will make them want to burn the archives. Despite my father's evidence, the fact that they tried to kill me makes everything worse." The reality is that I can't run away forever. Not knowing when something might happen to you or someone you love.

"What if they don't show up? Are you going to marry Barnes again?" Sam says it like it's the most unlikely thing in the world, considering I was married to Barnes once.

"Whatever, it's better to take a risk and not work out, than to do nothing and live in fear." I say, determined to make this weak team help me capture the man who killed my father and the man who almost killed me.

"I agree with Melisa, living in fear doesn't do any good. Not to mention that her marrying Bucky isn't the end of times. We'll be there to protect the engaged couple after all." Wanda speaks, trying to seek support in her wife's eyes, but Yelena seems unsatisfied.

"This could go very wrong, you could die, we could die too because Barnes won't accept this and we will have to do it without his cooperation. So if everything goes wrong he will take it out on us." Sam's right, Barnes will probably be pissed at them and if I survive at most I'll get two weeks without sex as punishment.

"But if we don't do anything to help Melisa, these two cowards will haunt her life. My friend spent months in a hospital bed and wants her peace back. I think we should give her that." Dave he says with authority, trying to show himself as a supporter of this plan. I hug him gently.

"Give what, to whom?" James Barnes came out of his eternal bath wearing a robe. Look, I didn't tell him about the plan but I know he's going to hate it.

"His ex-wife had an unusual idea to solve a problem. We're trying to figure out if it's worth trying." Yelena responds to Barnes, who looks confused.

"Funny, my ex-wife hasn't said anything to me in the days we've been together. At least nothing about this plan." You know that weird feeling like you're going to get fucked? I'm feeling it now.

"That's because she didn't feel you were ready to accept that plan." I say quietly as if I wished I didn't have to say anything.

"On a scale of one to ten, how much does Melisa put herself in danger in her plan?" He asks, clearly speaking to the rest of the group.

"Nine." Exactly everyone says it together, as if they were synchronized. Barnes looked at me as if to say, now you know why I don't like his plan.

"Baby, there's no way I'm going to agree to this plan. You at least suggested being bait to catch the two mother fuckers that almost killed you and I." It's funny how he says this minutes before grabbing me by the waist and kissing me on the cheek.

"I'm not going to give up on the plan, Barnes. I love you and I respect you. I would like you to respect my plan and follow it. But if you don't, I'll go through with it without you." I said looking into the eyes my ex. I know he wants the best for me but I can't live in this way forever.

"Do you want to end up like your father?" He responds sharply and I move away from him. I think we went back to the beginning of our relationship again. He wants to have the last word and I want to do what's best for me.

"Better to end up like him, than to live a life of fear and cowardice. If you don't understand me, that's your problem. But if you love me that much, you should support me and protect me. It was exactly for this reaction that I didn't tell you the plan." I say this hoping he will say something, say he will accept the plan or that I can't count on him. But I get silence. In fact, he left the house that was once ours and left without saying a word.

"I changed my mind, I'll support you in this. If you need a new fiancé, I'm available. Now I'm going to go and see where your husband went." Sam says kissing my cheek and going after Barnes.

"I still think this plan is crazy but if you're willing to fight Barnes over this, it must be important to you. Count on me, for any plan you have." Yelena says giving me a look of support. I am grateful for her decision to help me.

"These idiots and I are going to help you. Either way we're going to get Steve and Killian. One way or another." Wanda says hugging me and then saying goodbye. Just me and Daven left.

"Wine and ice cream?" Dave says, throwing himself on the couch and turning on my TV. You nod your head, hoping that some movie will take your argument with Barnes out of your mind. To think he was so angry that he came out in a bathrobe. It's even funny.

21 notes · View notes

bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years

Text

Scared to be Lonely

Part Two Part Three Epilogue

Summary: After S.W.O.R.D. helps with the clean-up in the Cairo aftermath, they ask Marc to return the favor: guard a variant Loki’s estranged wife while Thor and S.W.O.R.D. try to track down the evasive Godbutcher. Yet leave it to a “catty space princess” to throw the Moon Knight for a loop.

Pairing: Marc x Fem!OC, eventual Steven x Fem!OC and Jakex Fem!OC, past Loki x Fem!OC, past Marc x Layla

Rating: Explicit, Minors DNI!

Word Count: 7.3k (hahahaha wut?!)

TW/CW: Leave it to Oscar Isaac to end my decade (?) long hiatus from writing fic...it’s so long and filthy I had to split it up into parts instead of posting in one go like I’d planned. But for this bit - talk of divorce, mention of forced marriage, angst, oral (m receiving), fingering, dirty talk, barebacking (wrap it before you tap it IRL folx), p in v sex, and a smidge of creampie & cum-eating

“This is beneath me,” Khonshu declared yet again, materializing on the bus seat across from Marc, “Since when does a venerated member of the Ennead, and therefore by extension his avatar, serve as a paladin for Loki’s brat bride?”

Marc pulled out his phone. Pretended to make a call. Held the phone to his ear and then spoke. “Since if it wasn’t for S.W.O.R.D. last month the clean-up in Cairo would’ve been more of a mess than it was.”

Khonshu bristled. “I don’t trust them.”

“We agree there. But all things considered, as far as S.W.O.R.D. calling in the favor I owe them, there could be worse asks. Besides, if there’s really a deranged godkiller out there, we need intel.”

“Resorting to lowly bureaucrats instead of finding the adversary yourself. No wonder she left yo--”

“Ok talk to you soon!” Marc pretended to hang up and pushed Khonshu to the back of his mind.

Any mention of Layla was a conversation-ender. Khonshu was severely mistaken if he thought Marc was any more excited about guarding Loki’s ex-wife from another universe than he was, but if Marc was being honest, he could use a distraction. The two weeks since he’d signed the papers had been…rough.

A calm, robotic female voice came over the bus’s loudspeaker and announced his stop. He stepped off the bus into an impossibly posh area of London. Funny how different areas of the city could be so starkly different they felt like separate worlds.

The S.W.O.R.D. operative was waiting for Marc outside of Claridge’s as said he would be.

“Agent Woo,” Marc greeted him.

“Mister..?” Woo struggled with how to return the greeting, trying to determine who he was speaking to.

Marc watched him squirm for a moment or two, then put him out of his discomfort, “Spector. The other one has a British accent so thick it borders on hokey.”

Sod off, Steven chimed from one of the polished window panes of the luxury hotel’s entryway.

At least he counted you, Jake added. Marc was still grappling with the existence of another alter, and it was none of S.W.O.R.D’s business.

“Oh, okay, thanks. Shall we?” Woo gestured to the door, eager to put his gaffe behind them.

The two men made their way across the grand, bustling lobby. Marc had never been to the hotel, but it was more or less what he expected. Chandelier, black and white marble tiles, a sweeping staircase.

“What am I walking into here?” Marc asked. When googling his charge, Sigyn, he hadn’t found much. He’d even consulted a few of Steven’s mythology books but they contained little more information about the Norse goddess. All Marc was working off of was, until recently, that she was the long-suffering wife of Loki, god of mischief and chaos, and that Sigyn was given the title of goddess of fidelity for her trouble.

Woo called the elevator. “You read the brief?”

“Of course I read the brief,” Marc fired back. It had been frustratingly vague to his chagrin, but not to his surprise. Sigyn was a “variant”, a person who had come from another universe into theirs. In her dimension, she’d been married to Loki for centuries on Asgard and part of the ruling royal family. S.W.O.R.D. suspected that her universe’s Loki had gone rogue, conspiring with the entity who had been destroying gods across the multiverse.

“She’s lovely,” Woo said as they got on the elevator.

“Don’t bullshit me.”

Woo deflated. “Her highness comes off as arrogant, imperious. Our psychiatrist says it’s because she’s still feeling vulnerable after her husband left her. We need her for intel obviously, but our team has lead on Gorr–”

“The godkiller” Marc interjected.

“Yes. Thor doesn’t want her to come. Our leadership agrees, it’s too risky. We can’t lose our two closest connections to Loki and Asgardian assets should the mission go south.”

“So you called me to babysit rather than actually help you.”

“You are helping,” Woo insisted. “And your status as a consultant with us is delicate, Mr. Spector. S.W.O.R.D. is protecting you and your alter from several international authorities. Fail to keep the princess safe and perhaps we’ll reconsider.”

“Does she have the same affinity for lightning as her brother-in-law?”

The elevator reached the top floor.

“No, but like other Asgardians, she has increased strength and invulnerability, heightened senses and stamina, in addition to the Allspeak. She’s a practitioner of magic, but her skills are nowhere near Loki’s. She also tells us she can hold her own in a fight.”

“Hand-to-hand combat or with a weapon?”

“Doesn’t matter. Under no circumstances is she to leave the premises of the hotel. We’d prefer if you two stayed in the suite at all times.”

“Worse cages to be kept in,” Marc commented as they walked down the plush-carpeted hallway to what he guessed was a penthouse.

“Tell that to her,” Woo muttered under his breath.

The pair reached the door to the Asgardians’ suite. Two armed guards were posted outside. Marc stopped Woo before the agent could give the nod for entry to his colleagues.

“Do I really have to call her your highness?”

“If she likes you she’ll let you call her Sigyn, she picked that up from Thor.”

“So you call her Sigyn.”

Woo snorted. “Ha! No.”

With that, Woo motioned to the operatives and they opened the door. Six more guards and agents were inside from what he could see, and Marc could barely take in the elegance of the spacious and cream-colored suite before Thor stormed into its living area. He was in full battle guard: helmet, cape, and the massive axe that Marc always assumed was over-compensation for other “shortcomings”.

Hot on his heels was a woman adorned in a large gold helm of her own. Where Thor’s was winged on the sides, hers has two large semi-circles and a dazzling emerald inlaid in the center right above her brow. Though her respective cape was green - her husband’s color Steven clocked - she wore a glittering gold gown. Sigyn.

The more Marc observed her, everything about Sigyn seemed gem-like. Long, honey-colored tresses tumbled down her back, and her skin was fair but sun-kissed. A pair of sapphire-like blue eyes competed for brilliance with the emerald on her helmet. Her cheekbones were high, her lashes were long, her lips were full, and her build athletic.

Loki left her? What an idiot, Jake marveled. I’d chain her to my bed and live inside of her–

Marc blocked him out before Jake could finish the thought.

Though you’ve got to admit, she certainly looks like a goddess, doesn’t she?

He turned away from Steven’s image in the mirrored cabinet behind the dining table across the room. Marc was a professional. Unlike his alters, he could handle being in the same room as a beautiful woman. He pulled himself out of his head, focusing on the argument unfolding in front of him.

“No one knows Loki like I do,” Sigyn asserted.

Thor wasn’t convinced. “I’m his brother.”

“Adopted brother. I’m his wife,” she countered.

“Estranged wife,” Thor shot back just as quickly. He scrubbed a massive hand over his face. It was clear they’d had this dispute before. “I need you to stay here, Sigyn. You’ll get your crack at him, I swear it, but not yet.

Thor spotted them before the princess could get another word in. “Oh brilliant! Your knight is here!”

The Asgardian crossed to them quickly, his hurried gait betraying his desperation to change the subject. Sigyn glared at the trio of men with disdain. She may have only married into royalty, but it appeared to Marc that Sigyn definitely had her imperial sneer down.

“Cut the cow dung, brother. You mean my nanny.” She narrowed her gaze onto Marc. Everyone else in the room followed suit.

Sigyn’s stare was withering. Was he supposed to bow? “Don’t you dare”, Khonshu protested.

Marc offered his hand instead. “Marc Spector…your highness.”

Sigyn didn’t take his hand. The princess’s face gave away nothing. Instead, she looked at Thor expectantly.

“Lord Spector, allow me to introduce you to her royal highness Princess Sigyn of Asgard.”

“Thanks but um, I’m not a lord.”

Thor was thrown. “You’re a knight, aren’t you?”

“I’m the avatar of the Egyptian god, Khonshu. Moon Knight is a title but I don’t have subjects or anything.”

Sigyn groaned. “Norns”. She swept out of the living area into what must have been a bedroom, making sure to slam the door behind her.

Thor broke the subsequent awkward silence.

“So now you’ve met my sister,” he sent the other men a conciliatory smile. “Technically, we’re not siblings, or really in-laws even, but she’s fast become the younger sister I never had, you know?”

“Sure,” Marc offered.

“I’m an only child,” Agent Woo blurted.

“Anyway, Marc, I was hoping to see Khonshu! It’s been a literal eternity since I’ve seen that crazy old bird!” Thor scanned the room.“Is he here?”

Marc glimpsed Khonshu in his periphery shaking his head. “Not now, no,” he lied. “The Ennead relocated to the Overvoid, so it’s complicated to–”

“We need to go,” a female voice tinged with an eastern European accent interrupted him. A smaller blonde woman entered in tactical gear. “Is the Princess Bride taken care of?”

“Yes!” Thor exclaimed. “Marc Spector, Yelena Belova.”

Yelena shook Marc’s hand. “You’re Sigyn’s personal detail?” he nodded. “You poor son of a bitch.”

“I’ve been a mercenary for over a decade, I think I can handle a catty space princess.”

“Exactly! You’re the best there is,” Thor pulled Marc close to him. The Asgardian lowered his tone, “She’s been through a lot as of late. First her husband leaves her and then she’s transported to a different realm, in an entirely different universe where they were never wed, not to mention he’s dead here too.”

“I get it. Sort of. I got divorced recently.” Marc had no idea why he said it. Did he drink and fight about the split from Layla? Yes. But talk about it? Never.

“Great!” The god of thunder caught himself. “It’s not great, I’m sorry, though perhaps you wanted to get divorced? Who am I kidding? Breakups are always hard. Well, they are for me, you seem like the stoic type. But it is great you two have something in common.”

The suite had nearly emptied. Before Thor followed suit, he went to Sigyn’s closed door and knocked. No answer.

“Seeg? We’re leaving.” Still no response. Thor tried another tactic. “They may come here, you know. That’s why we need you and Marc to stay behind.”

Sigyn’s reply came in the form of a pillow being hurled at Thor’s face that sailed through a gold hole in the top half of the door that disappeared as swiftly as it materialized.

Bloody hell, Steven marveled at the casual use of magic.

Thor remained undeterred, shouting “I love you, sister!” before he took his leave.

Agent Woo headed for the door too, clapping Marc on the shoulder. “She’s all yours.”

Marc stopped him. “Wait, you’re not staying?”

“I thought you read the brief! It clearly outlined that this is an all-hands-on-deck situation, which is why we called you. Plus, I'm pretty sure she despises me. The door guards stay. Charge whatever you need to the room. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”

Less than a minute later, the room was deserted. Marc approached Sigyn’s door. He tried knocking and calling for her, but she remained non-responsive.

“She didn’t climb out the window, did she?”

“The princess is still here,” Khonshu assured him before adding “unfortunately.”

“Might as well make the best of it.”

Marc wasted no time flopping onto the couch that probably cost more than his last car, ordering room service, and several putting pay-per-view fights on S.W.O.R.D’s tab. If he was lucky, Sigyn would stay holed up in the bedroom until everyone came back.

Those hopes were dashed ninety minutes later when the princess emerged from her bedroom and padded into the living room. No longer in her ceremonial battle armor, Sigyn wore a simple ivory linen dress. Marc turned off the TV reflexively when she entered the room.

Sigyn studied him, her eyes inquisitive and piercing. “You’re the Moon Knight?”

“Just Moon Knight. No ‘the’. Fuck it, just call me Marc.”

“But there’s another man that lives within you.”

“Yes.”

“What’s his name?”

“Steven.”

Sigyn nodded, digesting the information. Marc was surprised to see there were no traces of wariness or distaste on her face, simply curiosity.

“And you both serve Khonshu?”

“I do more than he does.”

Wouldn’t at all if it were up to me, Steven remarked, his face warped in the silver of the serving cover that the room service had been delivered under.

“I’d like to apologize for my behavior earlier. I made a rather terrible first impression.”

“Don’t mention it. Thor told me what you’re dealing with right now.”

An exasperated sigh escaped past Sigyn’s plump lips, “I wish he hadn’t. He treats me as if I were made of glass, it drives me mad.”

“He cares about you.”

She softened slightly. “It’s all too easy to forget he's not actually the brother I’ve spent the last however many years with. Otherwise he’d know.”

“Know what?”

“That I am not a fragile, helpless princess that needs your protection, Marc.”

He stood, went to her. Marc fought to ignore the intoxicating scent of jasmine that flooded his nostrils when he crowded his space to test her. “Oh yeah? So why haven’t you given me the slip then?

Her sapphire eyes turned hungry. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

“Not if I can help it.”

Sigyn chuckled. She lifted her chin in an attempt to make up for the inch or so Marc had her height-wise. “You remind me of my husband. Ex-husband.”

“Ouch,” he replied with faux hurt.

“You strike me as a man who doesn’t take well to authority,” she explained, “so are you really going to listen to those puny Midgardian peons and keep us confined to this room?”

Marc smirked at her, but he didn’t answer Sigyn. This was a game he could play. And win.

“Perhaps you really are only a knight in name, hmm? Especially if you’re afraid of protecting a superior being who received her combat training from Odin’s elite Crimson Hawks.”

It was Marc’s turn to chuckle. She was goading him, trying to use reverse psychology. He leaned in close, hovered his lips millimeters from her ear. “Nice try.”

Marc stepped back from her and returned to the couch. Clicked the TV back on. Before he could resume the boxing match he’d been watching, Sigyn followed him to the couch.

“Merely my only opening gambit. I’d caution you trying to play mind games with me, Marc. I was married to the god of mischief for a very long time.”

“Sweetie, you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“It’s your highness.”

That’s it, give me the body! Jake demanded. I’m going to bend her over and–

Marc did his best to retain control of the body and cover any signs from bleeding onto his face as he stared Sigyn down.

Khonshu didn’t make it any easier, “For once I agree with the ruffian.”

“Marc?”

“Yeah”

“Are you well?”

“Never better,” he pivoted immediately. “Cards on the table, I only agreed to this because I want to know more about the godkiller–”

“Godbutcher.”

“Excuse me?”

“He calls himself the Godbutcher”.

“That’s a hell of a name to give yourself,” Marc mused. “Who has he butchered so far?”

“We don’t know how many. I’ve overheard that some members of the Greek pantheon were victims. Thor refuses to tell me anything more, which means he’s afraid.”

“Where were they going?”

“You believe they’d tell me?”

“No I don’t, but you’re too savvy to wait to be told,” Marc pressed. “You must know something.”

The television remote flew from the table into Sigyn’s hand. She turned off the TV. “Take me to dinner and I’ll tell you all that I know. I hear the restaurant downstairs is fabulous.”

“So you can be closer to an exit and lose me in a crowd? I don’t think so.”

“I genuinely haven’t the faintest idea where they went,” she averred. “If I did, we likely wouldn’t be able to follow them anyhow since you don’t have the tech, nor I the magic to traverse the multiverse.”

“They’re traveling inter-dimensionally?”

“That’s the most I was able to glean.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I have been locked in these rooms for nearly four days and I am going mad,” Sigyn confessed, her eyes locked with Marc’s so he could see the truth in them.

“The restaurant downstairs,” he agreed. Sigyn’s face lit up. “That’s it though.”

“Of course,” she flit back to her room.

“I should have claimed Layla for my next avatar when I had the chance,” Khonshu lamented. Marc turned to face him. “You don’t use the head on your shoulders to negotiate.”

“Keep her out of your craven attempts to control me,” Marc fired back. “I’m containing Sigyn so you can go find where Thor and S.W.O.R.D. went to.”

Khonshu cocked his skull, impressed. “Perhaps you’re not as useless as I thought.”

The god vanished and Marc snuck over to Sigyn’s bedroom, listening through the door. She was on the phone.

“Under Sigyn Odi–-Sigyn Frodisdottir please. No, the private dining room won’t be necessary.”

Marc’s notion of Sigyn trying to lose him among the hotel guests wasn’t unfounded after all it seemed. He was taken aback by how gracious the princess was, however. There wasn’t a trace of the haughtiness in her tone that she’d spoken to Marc or the S.W.O.R.D agents with.

Sigyn continued with who Marc guessed was the concierge, “I was curious if your personal shopper might be available? Wonderful! One minute, I’ll ask him–”

Her footsteps got closer and Marc launched himself through the hallway to resume his position on the couch before the door opened. When Sigyn appeared, Marc was tapping away on his phone, pretending he’d been there the entire time.

She handed him the receiver. “The shopper requires your measurements.”

“I thought we were just going to dinner?”

“Not with you dressed like that.”

Marc rolled his eyes. So much for Sigyn abandoning her royal airs. She retreated to her room once more and left Marc with the phone.

He put the phone to his ear. “Don’t make me look like a douche, alright?”

***

It’s official. You definitely look like a douche, Jake mocked Marc’s reflection as he straightened his tie in the suite’s spare bedroom.

I think we look sharp, Steven offered.

“Fuck it,” Marc took off the tie and tossed it on the bed. He undid the top three buttons of the hideously expensive shirt the Claridge’s personal shopper got him instead. Sigyn would deal.

Marc called for her, “We gotta go! You said seven, right?”

“A moment more!” Came the princess’s muffled reply through the door.

He waited for her in the living room. Caught his reflection again on the TV screen.

“I do look like a douche.”

Sigyn’s door opened before Marc could change back to the clothes he arrived in. Her hair was artfully piled atop her head, exposing the golden skin of Sigyn’s shoulders since the deceptively simple, short black dress she wore didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Don’t clean you up well.” She remarked as she approached him.

It took Marc a moment to acknowledge that she was speaking to him. He was a professional, but this wasn’t an impetuous princess before him. Dressed in earthly clothes, Sigyn was simply a knockout. He liked this version of her better. The golden helmet and cape and shimmering gown were unnecessary adornments to her beauty.

Jake and Steven immediately, simultaneously, demanded control of the body. It felt as if four fists were pounding on his skill from the inside. Marc didn’t blame them, but there was also no way in hell they were going to ruin the delicate connection he’d forged with Sigyn.

Who do you think you’re kidding? Jake scoffed. You want first dibs on fucking her.

Sigyn’s hand cautiously touched his arm, snapping Marc out of his thoughts.

“Marc? Can you hear me?” Her brow was furrowed in concern. The strappy heels she wore gave her the height advantage now.

“Yeah,” he said, “yes. Sorry.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to,” the words left Marc’s lips without permission. _Get it together Spector, _he thought, it’s like you’ve never seen a pair of tits before. He needed to backpedal. “I mean, we had a deal.”

Sigyn grinned. “Shall we then?”

The restaurant was dark and enveloping in its design - aubergine walls, low lighting, velvet seats. A singer and her small band occupied one of the corners; her sultry voice suited the ambiance of the establishment well as she serenaded its patrons.

Marc wasted no time ordering the most expensive champagne on the menu to spite S.W.O.R.D. Once the waiter departed from the table, he got right to it.

“So the godbutcher.”

A nervous laugh escaped Sigyn. She fidgeted, and even in the dim lighting, Marc could tell the princess was blushing. “In Asgard we usually wait for the first course before we discuss the matter at hand, Mister Spector.”

Marc readied a retort until he caught Sigyn's fingers unconsciously drifting to her left ring finger, as if to twirl a wedding band, only to remember a moment too late it was bare.

That’s when it occurred to him. She may be considered a goddess, but Sigyn was clearly a profoundly lonely woman. Not only had she been forsaken by her husband, as morally ambiguous as he was, she was on a strange planet in a completely different universe from hers with men in suits keeping her cooped up in a gilded cage. Why else would she not have escaped from the suite and insisted Marc dress up and take her dinner?

He understood how she felt. All too well. But before Sigyn’s plight could truly tug on his heartstrings, Marc shut it down. He could work with this. Sigyn wanted the boyfriend experience? Marc would give her the boyfriend experience and get what he needed.

Better give me the body, Steven entreated, only his eyes visible on the thin blade of Marc’s butterknife. You’re a bit too gruff to deliver the boyfriend experience, aren't you?

“Shut up,” Marc whispered.

Sigyn had heard. “Beg your pardon?”

“Nothing,” he covered. “And I’m sorry your highness, you’re right, it was inappropriate of me to ask you right away.”

“I shouldn’t expect a Midgardian to observe the customs of a realm to which he’s never been,” she admitted. “Please call me Sigyn.”

Marc smiled a wolfish grin. He was in.

“Nevertheless, I wish to know more about my enigmatic sentry.”

“Not much to know,” Marc deflected. His response was an automatic defense mechanism. Don’t let anyone get close, or let them learn anything they could use against him. Yet he knew he needed to give Sigyn something if he was going to coax anything useful out of her. “From Chicago, that’s in America. Do you know America? It’s um, across the-”

“I’ve heard of America,” she reassured him.

“Served in the military which led me to mercenary work which led me into the service of Khonshu.” There. That was something.

Sigyn giggled as their waiter brought their champagne. “You say it with such simplicity.”

“Yeah well, something tells me you’re a lot more interesting,” Marc countered.

“Is that so?”

“You’re very different with me than you were with your brother and S.W.O.R.D.” he remarked.

“Because you don’t look at me with pity,” Sigyn explained. “In their eyes I’m the silly, stupid woman who married the evil god because she didn’t know any better. Whereas they all saw this coming lightyears away apparently, and regard me as if I didn’t know my husband after centuries of marriage.”

“I get it,” Marc told her, making sure to catch her gaze. “I really do.”

Sigyn didn’t know what or how to ask about Marc’s…condition, so she stayed silent and took a sip of her champagne instead.

Marc followed her line of sight to the band. A few couples had taken to the small dance floor in front of the musicians. Sigyn watched them with equal parts wonder and wistfulness.

“Do you dance on Asgard?”

“Yes but not like this,” Sigyn kept her eyes on the dancers. “Here it looks to be about two people merely being close to each other. On Asgard, it’s much more formal, impersonal even. The first time I met Loki he asked me to dance.”

“Did he?”

“I could hardly believe it.”

“Why?” When Sigyn looked at Marc in confusion, he elaborated, “Have you looked in a mirror lately?”

Sigyn flushed, a mix of the alcohol and the compliment.

“My entire childhood, my mother’s complete focus was getting Thor to wed my elder sister. Which if I’m honest, I learned not to mind, since it meant I could do what I like, court who I wanted. But the shock on her face when she discovered that a prince had asked little Sigyn to dance instead of her prized Astrid,” her expression darkened, “It’s probably why I stayed with him after the shock at the wedding.’

“What do you mean?”

“The night Loki danced with me I was already betrothed to a friend of my brothers’, a fellow Crimson Hawk. Theoric. We were madly in love and Loki could see that. So he arranged for Theo to be killed in battle and posed as him. Odin married us, and it was only after we had sealed our vows that he revealed who I had actually pledged eternity to.”

“Fuck” was all Marc could muster in response. Sigyn sent him a wan smile.

“Odin was enraged, marriage was binding but no one ought to be wed under false pretenses. So he offered me the goddess of fidelity. And I suppose because of all the resentment I harbored for my mother, I accepted. Yet I grew to love it - both my husband and my role. Odin and Frigga had begun to send me on my own diplomatic envoys before…” she swallowed the lump in her throat before continuing, “before all of this happened.”

“I’m sorry.”

Sigyn blinked away a tear. “Tremendous. Now you pity me too.”

“I never said that.”

Sigyn took another sip of her champagne. The band began a new song, the bass and strings made for an enticing mix.

“Dance with me,” Marc said.

“Don’t trouble yourself.”

“Sigyn.”

“I don’t wish to anymore.”

Marc stood. Reached out his hand.

“Stand up.“ It wasn’t a request. At last, Sigyn obeyed.

Who knew her highness is just as good at taking orders as she is giving them, Jake noted as Marc led them to join the few couples already dancing.

Somewhere in the middle

Think I lied a little

Sigyn was a quick study as to where to place her hands, fighting to ensure that her face wouldn't betray just how good it felt to grip Marc’s hard but warm flesh under her hands, and the two were sidestepping together in no time.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

I know that I seem a little stressed out

But you’re here now

And you’re turning me on

Marc ignored how intoxicating Sigyn’s closeness was and focused on how to get more information out of her. It was clear she was feeling vulnerable, he needed to meet her where she was at.

“I got divorced. Recently.”

Sigyn’s eyes found Marc’s, open and compassionate. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he shrugged, “but know I do get what you’re going through.”

Put my mind at ease

Pretty please

“At least with my ex-wi—with Layla, things were pretty cut and dry as to why. I couldn’t be there for her, I couldn’t protect her, now she’s mixed up in the same shit as I am” Marc shared. “But what I can’t figure out is why Loki would leave you to team up with someone who wants you all dead.”

“Because he wants a throne,” Sigyn answered simply. “He’s always wanted a realm of his own to rule over. I suppose he believes allying himself with Gorr will not merely dispose of Thor but all deities who would challenge him.”

“But Gorr would kill him-“

“Not if Loki double-crosses him first,” Sigyn pointed out.

She knows how he thinks, Marc noted to himself, the song’s dulcet melody filling the silence.

If we take it further I swear I ain’t gonna break

So baby come try me

“But what do I know? Things had been comfortable, content between us. This could just as easily be his latest and arguably his grandest act of self-sabotage,” Sigyn mused. “A subject you seem well-acquainted with, no?”

“Dinner, dancing, and head-shrinking? You really know how to show a guy a good time, your highness.”

“Tell me Marc, did Layla ever say she required your protection?”

He bristled, refusing to reply.

“I don’t know her—“

“Yeah, you don’t.”

“But I’d venture that Layla, if she married you, hardly wanted, let alone needed, your protection.”

Marc’s grip tightened on Sigyn’s waist but he said nothing. They continued to dance in silence as the band moved into a new song.

Too much time, losing track of us

Where was the real?

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe Loki left you to protect you from what he felt he had to do?”

“A noble thought.” The same pained smile spread across Sigyn’s lips. “But you don’t know my husband.”

“I don’t,” he conceded, “but if our paths cross, I’ll be sure to kick his ass.”

“By all means. If there’s anything left after I’m finished with him, that is.”

Marc laughed, instinctively holding Sigyn closer, their lips millimeters apart. The air seemed to crackle around them.

Is it just our bodies?

Are we both losing our minds?

Instead of bringing his mouth to hers, Marc turned his face to murmur into Sigyn’s ear. “How about we get out of here?”

She shook her head. “Take me upstairs.”

Is the only reason you’re holding me tonight ‘cause we’re scared to be lonely?

Marc didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the song came to an end, he escorted Sigyn off of the dance floor and out of the restaurant. With the way the waitstaff was fawning over the princess, he figured they’d know to put their meal on S.W.O.R.D.’s tab.

They crossed the expansive lobby with Marc’s arm around Sigyn’s waist, but not daring to do anything more. The wait for the elevator was excruciating, he could already feel himself beginning to grow hard, but all bets were off when the larger metallic doors closed behind them.

Their lips crashed together with a surprising amount of force, finally no longer denying their desire for each other. Sigyn’s hands gripped either side of Marc’s face, while his hands found purchase on her hips, walking her blindly back into the wall of the elevator, pressing his hard-on against her.

A throaty moan escaped Sigyn’s mouth in between harsh, hungry kisses when she felt Marc’s erection against her hip. She grinded against him, savoring the friction, detaching their lips to whisper, “Is that all for me, Moon Knight?”

He mouthed at her neck, encircling each of her wrists in his hands, pinning them to the wall, “Shut up.”

Sigyn acquiesced with a giggle that suddenly morphed in a moan when Marc bit down on the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

The elevator doors opened to their floor with a high chime. The pair stumbled out and disconnected, Marc adjusting his jacket to try and hide his boner while Sigyn smoothed out her dress, both aware that there were still two guards posted at the other end of the hallway outside the suite.

“Your highness,” they greeted them, opening the door for Sigyn and Marc.

She smiled and acknowledged the guards with a nod, hoping her eyes telegraphed Sigyn’s gratitude for not commenting on their appearances.

As soon as the door closed behind them in the suite, the two launched themselves at each other once more. This time Marc’s hands went straight under the hem of Sigyn’s dress to her ass and lifted the princess into his arms.

“I should fuck you against the door so they can hear,” Marc growled.

“Naughty,” Sigyn played with the hair at the nape of his neck, “spread me out on the bed first.”

Marc obliged, carrying her into the bedroom, and depositing Sigyn on the bed with a toss. She laid back amongst the pillows, separating her legs to give Marc a glimpse of the scrap of black lace covering her as he stripped off his shirt and toed off his loafers.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

Sigyn did so, and Marc unzipped her dress and slid it down her shoulders, kissing every newly exposed notch of her back as he went. He slipped off her stilettos and pushed the black fabric down her hips, Marc’s mouth watering when Sigyn’s full, toned ass came into view. He snapped the strap of her flimsy thong against her golden skin, earning a shiver from Sigyn.

“This ass,” he groaned as he pulled Sigyn’s back flush with his front. Marc snaked his hands up her taut abdomen, then cupped her breasts in his large hands.

“Marc,” she mewled as he resumed his attack on her neck.

He teased her nipples, pinching them. “What do you want?”

She answered him by slithering out of his grasp and twisting back around on the bed, sitting back on her heels. Sigyn’s hands went straight to Marc’s belt, undoing the strip of leather and unzipping his fly. She reached inside, taking his massive, insistent bulge in hand through Marc’s boxer-briefs, squeezing him through the fabric.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

Sigyn withdrew only to pull his pants and underwear down, Marc aiding her and by kicking them off. He stood before her in all of his glory, and a wicked, satisfied glint flashed in Sigyn’s eyes when she was able to take in Marc’s member without any obstruction. She bit her lip unconsciously - he was uncut and thick. An errant thought danced through her mind —she owed her sort-of brother-in-law an apology and her heartiest gratitude for pairing them together.

Concentrating back on the task before her, Sigyn pumped Marc a few times, climbed off the bed, and knelt before him. She brought her lips to his head tracing the shape of her mouth before laving kitten licks up his length.

Marc gazed down at Sigyn through hooded lids as his cock slipped between her lips and she bobbed up and down. He rested a hand on the back of Sigyn's head, guiding her eager mouth along the length of his dick. Shit she was good at this.

Well, she is a thousand-year-old goddess, Steven pointed out, probably had loads of time to practice.

The last thing Marc wanted to do was think about Sigyn with another man, the thought prompted him to begin thrusting into the warm, wet suction of the princess’s mouth. She moaned.

C’mon, fuck her mouth, Jake urged in Steven’s absence.

As if she could read their thoughts, Sigyn grasped onto the globes of Marc’s ass and pulled him deeper. His eyes rolled back in his head as she proceeded to deep throat him. Did Asgardians not have gag reflexes?

Marc could feel his orgasm creeping up on him. He pulled himself from between Sigyn’s plush lips, but the princess looking up at him with her wide sapphire orbs and glistening pout was nearly enough to undo Marc.

“Wanna come in your pussy,” he offered as an explanation, lifting Sigyn to her feet and pushing back onto the bed again. This time, he covered her body with his, Marc’s hand slipping down to her underwear, toying with Sigyn’s clit through the lace.

She let out a breathy cry, both relieved and riled up that her core was getting some much-needed attention. Marc’s dexterous fingers continued playing with her while another slipped between her folds, earning another keen from the princess. He proceeded to rip the thong clean off her body and redouble his efforts by thrusting two fingers inside of Sigyn. She canted her hips to meet his strokes, just as hungry for this as he was.

“Sigyn,” he murmured.

“Hgggnnn,” came her incredibly coherent reply.

“We need protection.”

Her eyes popped open, her brow creasing. “From what?”

“Sexually transmitted diseases,” he explained, “and pregnancy.”

“Our kind can’t contract any diseases from yours,” she panted. Marc hadn’t ceased his ministrations and hit a particularly delectable spot inside of her. “And I take a – um, tincture. F-f-for contraception.”

His thumb drew circles around her clit. “Fuck me already, Marc,” she demanded.

Marc was all too eager to acquiesce. He withdrew his fingers from Sigyn, inserting them into her eager mouth while he lined himself up with her dripping core. Sigyn licked Marc’s digits clean, treating him to more insistent, needy moans as he ran the head of his cock through her wetness.

At last Marc sank into Sigyn’s tight cunt. She felt just as heavenly as he’d imagined she would, her walls clinging to his shaft in a vice-like grip, encouraging him to sheath himself further.

As Marc pulled out to thrust back in deeper, Sigyn wrapped an arm around his neck and brought their mouths together once again. They collided in a mess of teeth and tongues, Sigyn breaking the liplock only when Marc picked up the pace of his hips, her neck thrashing to the side.

It felt as though Marc was consuming her, spearing her apart with his thick girth, and she loved it. What they shared felt more primal than her lovemaking with Loki had been as of late. Sex was a tactic or carefully calculated move in the chess game that her marriage had become, with Marc it seemed that they needed each other equally as badly, and for the same reason. To forget someone else.

And with a face like that and the way Marc pistoned his fat cock into her, Sigyn had no problem with forgetting everything except the stretch in her pussy, Marc’s dark, unflinching gaze, and the pair of bulging biceps that held her wrists above her head.

“You’re so strong,” Sigyn exhaled.

Marc grunted a reply, continuing to hammer into her.

“But so am I,” Sigyn smirked as broke free of his grasp, flipping them over so she was on top. She canted her hips and pinned Marc’s wrists just as he had hers, a devilish grin playing across her kiss-bruised lips.

Despite the hot thrill that raced down Marc’s spine at having a partner who could match his strength and the view of Sigyn’s tits bouncing in time with his thrusts, he wasn’t going to let her get away with it.

“Oh no you don’t,” Marc rolled them over again, splaying Sigyn back on the bed. He hooked the backs of her knees in the bends of his elbows to spread her legs wider and pounded in deeper.

Sigyn threw her head back against the bed’s downy comforter. “Norns, Marc, yes.”

But Marc was unable to shake the idea of fucking the Asgardian against the wall. He collected her in his arms and carried her to the wall opposite the bed. Sigyn’s breath hitched when Marc re-entered her and resumed his punishing pace. She clenched around him even harder, relishing the contrast between the rigid, polished wood paneling at her back and Marc’s searing flesh, damp with sweat, pressing into her front.

Marc was unrelenting in his assault on Sigyn’s pussy, driving his hips into her, earning a hybrid of a moan and shriek when the tip of his cock found her g-spot. He focused there with his thrusts, swallowing Sigyn’s cries and moans as he impaled her. Though initially Marc has wanted the guards to hear just how well he was fucking her royal highness, he’d changed his mind. Now he wanted all of Sigyn’s sweet little sounds for himself.

Particularly sweet was the sound of slick slap on skin-on-skin from where they were joined. “Do you hear that?” Marc asked her, his voice gravel. It sent another shudder through Sigyn. “You’re so wet for me baby, you gonna come on my cock?”

Sigyn pulled Marc closer to her, digging her manicured nails into the thick muscles of his traps. “Make me.”

The Asgardian’s challenge spurred Marc to redouble his efforts, holding Sigyn up with his pistoning hips and only one arm, the other shooting straight down to her clit. He rubbed rough, persistent circles into the nub, prompting Sigyn’s cunt to clench around him so tightly he could barely thrust.

Marc didn’t mind though, he ground his hips into hers and continued his stream of filthy goading, “You like that? ‘Cause I love the way your tight cunt is squeezing me. Come on, cream on my cock baby.”

Sigyn snapped with a loud, unprincess-like wail as she came, her pussy spasming around Marc’s hot length inside her. Her orgasm rushed like a roaring flame through her veins, her nails digging so deep into Marc’s shoulders she nearly drew blood. Marc didn’t stop grinding his dick into her core as Sigyn came, prolonging her release as he chased his. She didn’t know how long it took for the blinding euphoria to settle, but when Sigyn regained coherence Marc was still frantically fucking into her.

Despite the oversensitivity beginning to set into her groin, Sigyn tightened around his pulsing dick again and urged him on, “Marc, wanna feel you.”

That did it - not a moment later was Marc painting her walls with his hot seed. He slammed his free hand against the wall and his chest vibrated with a deep groan as he emptied himself inside of Sigyn, the climax so good he could forget about Khonshu, his divorce, and the impending threat of the Godbutcher, if only for a moment.

Marc gathered the remains of his strength and walked them back over to the bed, his softening cock still inside Sigyn. This time he lay her on the now mussed duvet much more gingerly, and extracted himself from her just as carefully.

They lay beside each other, looking into each other’s eyes for the right thing to say. This was so not how Marc thought tonight would go when he got the call from Agent Woo, but he was not complaining.

Marc spoke first. “How do you feel?”

Sigyn smiled - not an imperious smirk, nor the grin she used to mask her pain when talking about Loki. A genuine, unguarded smile. “Very good.”

“Just very good?” Marc scoffed with mock offense.

“Very very good,” Sigyn assured him with a kiss. “Wonderful, even. Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” Marc found it too easy to get lost in Sigyn’s eyes. “I am famished, though.”

“You did work up quite the appetite, Mister Spector,” Sigyn remarked. She sat up, pushing herself off of the bed. “Order us something, I’m going to clean up.”

What a gentleman you are, Steven fumed, leaving her to fend for herself as soon as you’re finished.

Marc sat up as well, eschewing firing back at Steven that he barely wasn’t a virgin anymore, and grabbed Sigyn’s wrist as she headed toward the en-suite. “I can get you–”

“It’s no trouble,” she told him. She gestured to her now thoroughly wrecked updo. “Besides I should tend to this.”

“Wait, let me…” Marc slid his fingertip along the inside of Sigyn’s thigh where his release had trickled out of her. She bent over obediently and sucked it clean, making Marc’s spent cock twitch in a valiant attempt to harden again so soon.

He enjoyed the view of the naked princess traipsing into the bathroom, then grabbed the in-room phone.

Part 2

A/N: The night’s just getting started for Sigyn and the Moon Boys...

384 notes · View notes

dontsearchformyaccount · 3 days

Text

She is the only thing keeping me alive right now and none even knows

19 notes · View notes

reirakurenai · 16 days

Text

My AU happy ending (for them, it's still an evil ending lol) Lux/Gortash (and Minthara) twin babies. Just look at them! 🥹

Yelena is the older twin, so she will be the future Archduchess of Baldur's Gate (Gortash 100% would push for the city to become more like a monarchy). She's daddy's girl, very creative, and plays the violin. I am still unsure about her class, but I'm leaning towards bard.

Lucius is the younger twin. He is probably a Grand Duke (because nepotism). He followed Minthara (second mom) around like a little duckling - became an Oath of Vengeance paladin due to her influence. He comes across as fierce, but he can actually be a big sweetheart. Will defend his sister to his last breath.

They obviously mostly take after Lux, but they have Gortash's eyes. If BG3 had a more intense CC with sliders, I would 100% have given them more Gort features. Alas, we make do with what we have. 🥲

13 notes · View notes

p-taryn-dactyl · 2 years

Text

Masterlist/Masterpost

MARVEL:

yelena belova

agatha harkness

moon knight

carol danvers

kate bishop

daisy johnson

wanda maximoff

tony stark

natasha romanoff

jean grey

bucky barnes

sam wilson

marvel angst fics

in the shadows (series)

way down we go (series)

CW DCTV:

legends of tomorrow

lena luthor

kara danvers

STARGATE:

daniel jackson

WIZARDING WORLD:

fred weasley

MERLIN:

gwaine

ORIGINAL STORY/SONG OF MEDUSA:

song of medusa

RIORDANVERSE:

thalia grace

249 notes · View notes

cxtoonzzz · 8 months

Text

Vamp Yelena wip

Lesbian vampire RAGHHH

#yelena aot #yelena snk #yelena my beloved #aot #attack on titan #yelena #yelena x oc #aot yelena #wlw #aot fanart #anime #yelena smut #yelena aot x reader #yelena attack on titan

232 notes · View notes

vypressovana · 3 months

Text

#attack on titan #attack on titan fanart #aot fanart #yelena snk #yelena aot #yelena x oc

3 notes · View notes

portalsofatheria · 1 year

Text

~Stones and Glass Houses~ Marvel x DC fanfic (Damian Wayne x Stark!Reader)

~Book 1~

Brooklyn Stark, was born in the Red Room and trained to be the perfect Black Widow until she escaped at the age of 7. Now at the age of 16, she is the only biological daughter of Tony Stark, a Shield agent, and an Avenger in training. She has opened up her heart to a new family made up of superheroes and new friends that she never expected to have. The one thing Brook’s life lacks is love, which in Brook’s case is a blessing. Romantic love is for fools, and she has enough on her plate trying to traverse this new life without it. Damian Wayne, now 16, is the only biological son of Bruce Wayne, the feared Batman. He is an ex-assassin and the heir to not only the Wayne fortune, but also the League of Assassins.

Damian has turned his back on the League and all it stands for, fully embracing what it means to be a superhero and wearing the Robin insignia. He has a loving family that tends to smother him, few friends, and animals that he cherishes. Despite his outward uncaring aloofness, Damian is content with his life and his future. He doesn’t need romantic attachments like the majority of his siblings, and unfortunately, his father have succumbed to.

Hero and vigilante masks aside, the Waynes and Starks are known for their epic rivalry and hatred of each other that has only gotten worse from generation to generation, so it is no surprise that it is hate at first sight between Brook and Damian when they finally meet.

However, the two teens keep finding themselves thrown together as they, along with every other superhero in the world, try to keep the streets safe from new dangerous alien weapons and crazed supervillains. The two heroes discover that they have a lot more in common than they first thought, but is this newfound bond worth their parents' wrath? Can hate really turn to love?

AO3 link here.

Released Chapter Count: 98 (09/07/2023)

Word count: 774,792

Status: COMPLETE (undergoing revisions)

~BOOK 2~

AO3 link is here

Released Chapter count: 51 (09/07/2023)

Word Count: 444,052

Status: Ongoing

(Please don’t plagiarize my work)

71 notes · View notes

currentlyfckingurmom · 9 months

Text

Human: Rewritten

Chapter One

Natasha Romanoff x Female OC

A/N: Troyes, France is 6 hours ahead of NYC so 7pm there is 1pm in NYC

Barcelona, Spain; January, 2012

The repetitive ticking of the clock registered in her brain before her eyes even opened. She didn’t need that clock to know what time it was, of course. It was 4:30 am— the same time she’d woken up everyday for the past twenty-five years of her life. She no longer needed to wake up that early, yet it’s a habit so deeply entrained in her framework that it’s seemingly unbreakable. She rolled out of bed and made her way into the dingy kitchen with light footsteps. With some quick math she figures that she got barely two hours of sleep last night, but that’s typical. She started the coffee machine and asked with a sigh, “Would you like some coffee or are you just going to lurk in the corner?”

The leather-clad stranger with an eyepatch stepped up to the kitchen island opposite of her and responded, “I wouldn’t mind a cup. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew I was here.”

“Well, you know what they say about old habits. You got a name?”

“You can call me Fury. We have a lot to talk about, Eight.” She slid him a mug of cheap coffee and gestured for him to take a seat.

“Then we’d better get started so you can get the hell out of my apartment.” He simply chuckled in response and Eight could already feel her patience wavering.

Two hours later, Eight rubbed her forehead in an effort alleviate the headache.

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? Really, dude?”

“Yeah, it’s a mouthful. Trust me I know.”

“I’m sorry that you came all this way for nothing, Fury, but there’s no way in hell I'm working for some government spy circus.”

“It’s technically an extra-governmental spy agency-”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not joining,” She said, cutting him off.

“So, you’re just gonna hop from one shitty apartment to the next until you die? That doesn’t seem like a great life.”

“Better than the one I lived before.”

“You aren’t the person to live in hiding. You’re the person who thrives in the action and lives to kick ass, and we both know it.” When she didn’t respond he continued, “I’ll leave you my card. When you change your mind, which you will, you’ll know where to find me. You don’t have to be the bad guy anymore, Eight.” With that he slid off the stool and left her apartment, leaving her with nothing but her rapidly spiraling thoughts and a black business card.

Troyes, France; May, 2012:

It had been four months since Director Fury paid a visit to Eight’s apartment in Barcelona. They had kept in contact and he hadn't given up on her joining SHIELD. She’d lived in three different apartments since then. Eight was watching the seven o’clock news when she saw something that made her choke on her Cheerios. “An alien invasion? What the hell is—” Her muffled exclamation was interrupted by the ring of her burner phone. “Hello?”

“Eight, you watched the news recently?”

“Uh yeah, I'm watching it now. You fighting aliens now, Nicky?”

“Okay first of all, I told you to stop calling me that. Second, yes, aliens. I’m forming a team of extraordinary people to help protect against these threats. They could really use a hand to finish off this fight.”

“I may be a bit unusual but I’m not ‘extraordinary’, Fury. I don’t wanna join your band of misfits.”

“Alright, how about a compromise? You fly your fancy jet here right now and help them out and if you still don’t wanna join, you can go right back to France after the fight is over and I’ll stop bothering you about joining.” After a few seconds of silence she agreed.

“Fine, but I’m not gonna change my mind. How do you know about my jet?”

He gave a hearty laugh and said “I know everything, Eight. You should know that by now.”

New York, New York; 96 Minutes Later:

Eight flew her jet into the city, making sure to take out a few flying Chitauri in the process. She found herself extremely grateful for the stolen German jet capable of flying 2100mph. She saw a few interesting characters standing in a circle fighting off an endless sea of aliens. She maneuvered the jet and— Is that guy wearing blue tights? Is this what Fury meant by extraordinary? She landed in the street about 20 yards away and killed the engines, then hopped out and started jogging towards the group. A couple of them turned around, probably wondering who the hell she was and—whoa that’s a beautiful woman. After realizing her steps had literally faltered at the sight of the woman, she slowed to a walk and said “You guys need a hand?”

“Depends on whose hand it is,” replied the gorgeous redhead.

“I’m a friend of Fury’s. He practically begged me to come save your asses.”

“Fury doesn’t beg,” she said in a doubtful tone.

“Not typically, but I'm just that awesome. If you don’t believe me then call him up but I’m gonna go kill some aliens.” With that she took off down another street where there was a group of the repulsive bastards. After unloading all of her magazines into Chitauri bodies, she switched to swords and daggers. After another hour or so of fighting, there were no more aliens in sight. Eight started jogging toward the rich dude’s tower when she saw said rich dude falling through the rapidly-closing portal. She stopped next to Mr. Blue Tights and Mr. Hammer Man when the big green thing grabbed Mr. Rich Dude from the sky and landed next to the group. The green guy yelled, waking Mr. Rich Dude up with a start. “What the hell? What happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me. Except for her, she’s pretty hot,” he said, nodding toward Eight. Just then the redhead jogged over to us and eyed Eight’s blood-soaked form from head to toe.

“See something you like, Red?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I'd be classified as a sadist if I liked the sight of that much blood,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.

“I’d be into it if you were.”

She shook her head at Eight with a small smirk. There was barely a second of silence when Mr. Rich Dude spoke up.

“Anybody want shawarma?”

Three Hours Later:

Eight had gone to the Triskelion after the band of misfits apprehended Loki. Agent Hill showed her where to land her jet and directed her to a room so she could shower and stay the night if she wanted to. Eight had put on black jeans, a white tank, and a black jean jacket, all of which had been in a to-go bag in her jet. She was toweling off her hair when someone knocked on the door. Eight opened the door to see none other than the one-eyed-wonder standing there. “What can I do for you, Nicky?”

“The Avengers are being debriefed in Conference Room 6B in ten minutes. You should come.”

“The Avengers? Is that what you’re calling them? That’s cute. But I'm not an Avenger and I don’t want to be an Avenger, so no thanks.”

“You should come anyway.”

“I don’t actually have a choice, do I?”

“You know me so well, Eight,” he said with an amused grin.

She walked into the conference room, finding the Avengers already there. Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Natasha Romanoff—whose names Eight had learned from Hill—were scattered around a large table, along with Fury. Romanoff eyed Eight from where she was standing and arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at her. Eight squinted her eyes and wiggled her eyebrows in response, and she could see the redhead stifle a laugh.

“What’s your name?” She accompanied the question with a blank expression.

“That’s a very personal question, Miss Romanoff. Let’s slow the pace, please.”

“You know my name but I can’t know yours? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“The world isn’t fair, Miss Romanoff, and I love a good mystery.”

“If you two are done flirting, we have business to attend to,” interjected Fury.

“Right, my apologies, Nicky.”

“Don’t call me that, Eight.”

After an excruciating 43 minutes and 27 seconds, Fury finally let the group leave. Eight was so close to freedom when that unbelievably sexy voice called to her.

“Eight!” Romanoff hastily walked towards her in an effort to catch up.

“Yeah?”

“Is your name actually Eight?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“It amuses me, Red.” There was a brief silence during which both women were trying to figure out if the conversation was over.

Eight was about to leave when Natasha continued, “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Well, no. I’m going to stay the night, steal some really expensive jet fuel, and then leave in the morning before Fury can get up my ass about joining his little team.”

She rolled her eyes and responded, “Why won’t you join the Avengers? And why won’t you tell me your real name?”

“It’s just not my style. I’d rather fly solo.”

“You ignored my second question.”

“Then maybe you should take the hint and stop asking.” With that she turned around and started walking away, but a hand on her arm stopped her dead in my tracks. Alarms started going off in Eight’s head, and Romanoff might’ve been saying something to her, but she was too caught up in the memories to register it. After a few seconds, the white of her vision cleared up and the voices in her head faded into the background. Her heart was still hammering in her chest and she was trying to keep her breathing steady. Eight regained her neutral expression and said. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you okay?” Natasha had a concerned expression and if Eight wasn’t so blinded with anxiety, she would’ve appreciated how cute the furrow of her eyebrows was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna turn in. It’s been a long day.” She turned around and walked back to her temporary room at a brutal pace. As soon as the door closed behind her, hot tears raced down her cheeks and she lost the ability to breathe as she fought the old conditioning messing with her head. It was gonna be a long night.

3:21 am:

She finally managed to calm herself down and stop the panic attack after almost four hours. Trying to sleep would be pointless, so she decided to leave before anyone woke up. Eight didn’t have much to pack so she grabbed her duffel bag and left the room. She made it to the corridor attached to the landing pads, then ran into the one person she really didn’t want to see. “What are you doing out and about, Red?”

“I’ve got places to be and things to do. Were you just going to sneak out in the middle of the night like a teenager with a rebel streak?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing, actually. Do you need a ride? Where are you going?”

“Madrid. Fury said I could hitch a ride on another plane that’s headed for Germany.”

“Well I’m going to France if you wanna ride with me. My jet will get you there a lot faster.” Natasha studied her for what felt like way too long, probably debating if Eight would try to kill her or not. Spies can be so untrusting.

“What the hell, why not?”

And that is how she ended up in a jet with “Candy Shop” playing over the speakers and Natasha Romanoff in the copilot seat yelling at her to ‘slow the fuck down!’

“Why would I slow down, you psycho?! That’s the whole damn point of this thing!”

“Where did you even get a German jet this fast?”

“Germany.”

“No shit Sherlock. How did you get it?”

“I went to Germany, stopped in at the local speedy-jet dealership, and walked out with this beauty.”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism, you know. You’re dodging my questions.”

“You act like you’d answer my questions if I were to start asking about you.” It was quiet as the two women shared a look of mutual understanding.

Madrid, Spain:

Eight landed the jet at the local SHIELD base and killed the engines. They removed their headsets and Eight stood to help Romanoff get her bags. “Well, I’ll see you around I guess.” Eight had never been good at goodbyes. Or any social interactions, really. Twenty-four years in a cell will do that to you.

“Will I? See you around, I mean.”

“Um, I don’t know, honestly.”

“Why won’t you join SHIELD? I mean what else are you doing?”

“Oh, I see. You just love me so much that you don’t want me to leave. You’re gonna miss me so much-” Eight was cut off when Natasha threw her backpack at my head. “Hey! You’re lucky I caught that! Fucking crazy woman.”

When their laughter died down, Natasha said, “Well I should probably go. Thank you for the ride.”

“Of course. Hitchhikers are always welcome aboard my beloved jet.” A small smile appeared on her face and she stepped forward to give Eight a hug but she must’ve seen her body go rigid because she stepped back. And then she was gone. Eight walked to the front of the jet and started the journey to France.

Series masterlist

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romonova #natasha romanoff smut #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x oc #yelena belova #black widow #black widow x reader

43 notes · View notes

bucksconsolare · 8 months

Text

garden

pairing: bucky barnes x fem oc

this is a song fic inspired by ‘garden song’ by phoebe bridgers. each section between lyrics is a different memory from their life together.

warnings: modern college au, very brief mention of severe weather, brief implications of body image issues and insecurities, brief non-detailed description and talk of injuries, amnesia, house fire (no injury or death), NIMBLE IS OKAY!!!, angst, fluff, kinda hurt/comfort ??, avalon and steve have the cutest friendship ever, crumbs of avasam and peppalon bffism if you squint, brief mention of buckys fuckboy era, implied smut, a teeny tiny splash of drunk!steve, swearing, bucky and avalon are both a bit unwell in the head, implications of ptsd but if you dont have ptsd yourself then you probably wont catch it, bittersweet open-ended ending, i think thats all but lmk if i need to add more !!

this is NOT betaed!! i did proofread before posting, but im also dyslexic so if theres still any errors thats why.

all work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated!!!

Someday, I'm gonna live

In your house up on the hill

as they stood at the lookout deep in the catskills watching the sunset, buckys arms wrapped around her waist, avalon couldn’t help but be in complete awe. no matter how many times they’d come here to watch the sunset, or wait in the car with bated breath while the severe weather alert blared through the speakers as nearly black clouds quickly filtered into the valley, it never failed to make her gape with child-like wonder at the vast horizon.

“i’ve seen this view so many times, and it still feels surreal every time…”

“i know…” bucky whispered back, voice slightly muffled as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

“it’s gorgeous…”

bucky raised his head to look at her, then to the view in front of them… the crystal blue reservoir below, narrow bridge crossing it in the distance, mountains for miles and the breathtaking pink and orange sky. He looked back to her and smiled.

the same view in front of them, he also held in his arms: her dyed bright orange hair, ‘i want to look like a pumpkin’ were avalons exact words when bucky found her dying it in the guest bathroom at 2am on a random wednesday. it wasn’t even fall yet, but she was just too excited to wait until october hit. the peaks and plateaus of her in the form of her body; the slope of her neck, the valley between her breasts, the curves of her waist, the dip in her hips, the bend of her knees. the bridge of her nose that she hated so much, uneven from one too many breaks never being fixed. bucky didn’t care, he loved all of her, so he’d kiss it anyways. and down to her blue-green eyes, perfection in his because they were the colors of mother nature. god, how he could always get lost in them.

“not as much as you though.” avalon let out a laugh at his comment. so cheesy, she thought.

she turned in his arms, pure adoration in buckys eyes as he stared back at her, and avalon swore in that moment she sunk further into the home she’d made for herself in his heart.

“okay, pretty boy.” she smirked, placing a long awaited kiss to his lips.

And when your skinhead neighbor goes missing

I'll plant a garden in the yard, then

it was the peak of spring. prime planting season, the wintery frost that usually covered the rural new york landscape during the cold months no longer invaded their yard.

bucky realized he hadn’t seen avalon most of the day, at least not since breakfast, and it was nearing 3pm. he thought she might’ve been in the green room, but nope. no head of messy strawberry blonde hair in sight. but then he heard it, loud and clear, that frustrated groan that filtered in through the front door, and bucky automatically knew what was going on. it was on their calendar and avalon hadn’t been able to stop talking about it for weeks; it was planting season, the end of the frost!

bucky made his way outside, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“hey, doll.”

“hi!” avalon jumped excitedly at the sound of his voice.

“what are you doing?” he already knew, but he had to play in. talking about her gardens of flowers, her pride and joy, always made her buzz with happiness. bucky felt grateful enough that she let him witness it.

“it’s planting season!” she said with a bright smile.

“oh, of course.” bucky said in a mock forgetful tone as he descended the front steps of her home — their home now.

avalon held up two small bags of seeds to bucky as she asked, “should i do pink or white peonies?”

“pink, obviously!” he replied, as if it weren’t already a given she had to plant pink peonies because ‘thems the rules!’

“obviously…” avalon rolled her eyes, already knowing what bucky was thinking, as if she could simply see into his mind.

They're gluing roses on a flatbed

You should see it, I mean thousands

the spring festival always filled avalon with joy. participating in the parade almost every year since she was three, while her mother and father usually manned their tent as vendors, along with her fathers brother who owned a brewery.

this would be buckys first year attending. it was basically his initiation, as avalon and her mom had put it.

“oh, my god… buck, look at the flower floats!” avalon beamed, her chest surging with joy. i can’t believe i was able to contribute to something so beautiful, she thought.

“they’re pretty.” bucky whispered back in her ear holding her tightly to his chest, watching the gorgeous floats filled with a plethora of flowers roll past.

“those are my roses…” she said timidly, pointing to the corral truck, all bright smiles and shining eyes. it was covered in at least a few hundred rose buds of varying colors.

“what?” buckys eyes went wide as he released his grip on her waist and she turned to face him with a shy smile. “and you didn’t tell me?”

“i wanted it to be a surprise!”

his smile shown brighter than the stars, and avalon couldn’t help but smile back the same way. bucky grabbed her waist, hoisting her up in the air and spinning her around as she laughed.

“i’m so proud of you!” he shouted, flooding her face with kisses all over.

I grew up here 'til it all went up in flames

Except the notches in the door frame

it was like a scene from a movie. avalon swore everything was going in slow motion as her feet came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the street. her mind racing a thousand miles a minute, but one thing was clear through all the haze… nimble. avalon ran straight for the blazing house.

“ma’am, please. you need to stand back.” a firefighter said as he held her back with his strong arm.

“but that’s my home! my dog is still inside!” she screamed back.

“i understand, but-“

“my dog is in there — my entire life is!” avalon was a complete mess. she knew this man was just trying to do his job, and she was extremely grateful for that, but she wouldn’t know what to do if she lost nimble. the tiny, almost fourteen year old beagle had been her best friend since she was nine.

“listen, i understand this is an incredibly difficult, and stressful situation…but you need to stay back and let us do our job.” the firefighter said with a firm nod of his head, going back to his position.

“oh god…” avalon took a step back, watching as her childhood home was consumed by the red inferno.

she fell to her knees, praying to a god she wasn’t even sure she believed in, until she heard a small voice in the back of her head. it kind of sounded like her grandma. ‘nimble will be fine, that little guy is as resilient as dinosaur bones’

not even a minute later does she look back up to see him dashing through the yard, the tiny hound, her best friend.

“nimble!” avalon sprung to her feet and raced towards him, right passed the firefighter who was telling her just minutes before to stay back.

“hey!” he yelled, trying to grab for her as she zoomed past, but failing miserably.

avalon fell to the sidewalk and scooped nimble up the second he was in arms reach, holding him tightly to her and crying.

she felt a crinkle against her chest. she looked down, and sure enough, nimble held a small brown canvas bag in his mouth marked peonies.

“anything to live up to your name, huh?” avalon said through sniffles as she removed the bag from his mouth, stuffing it into her jacket pocket and gently petting his head.

I don't know when you got taller

See our reflection in the water

everything was stressing her out. steve was so adamant that bucky would come back, and deep down avalon knew that he had to be right…he had to be, steve was buckys best friend since the dawn of time, he knew him better than anyone else. but avalon just couldn’t bring it from within herself to truly believe what the blonde was telling her.

so when avalon disappeared out of nowhere one afternoon, it was safe to say the whole group flipped the entire city upside down trying to find her. how could a girl from the catskills burrow herself so deep into manhattan when she barely even knew the city?

of course, steve being steve, he found her first because he knew all the right places to look. soho, the brooklyn bridge and riverside park. he should’ve known she’d be by the pier.

“darling?” steve called out softly. he’d know that flannel and shaggy blue hair anywhere.

avalon turned around to see her favorite of buckys friends. really, they were her friends too now. “oh… hey, steve.” she sniffled and wiped her tears away as she turned back to the water, leaning on the rail.

“we’ve all been looking everywhere for you…for two hours” there wasn’t even the slightest pinch of malice in his voice. steve wasn’t angry at all, he was concerned.

“i know, i’m sorry i scared you guys… i just needed to be alone” steve approached, standing to her right, leaning on the rail with her.

“so you came to the river?”

“buck and i, we… we used to walk the path almost every morning, so i figured… i figured no one would find me here, i guess.” avalon stared down at her morphing reflection in the hudson, steves next to her… she wished so bad that it was bucky.

“in a very public area, no one would find you?” steves gaze could burn holes through the side of her face.

she finally looked back at him, fresh tears welling in her eyes just threatening to spill over. “hey, i’m a very easy person to ignore… clearly.” she answered in a sarcastic tone.

“avi…” steves entire demeanor shifted at her indication. he knew exactly what she meant.

avalon had quickly become one of steves closest friends, right next to sam and nat. he was loyal to a fault, so he’d do anything to protect his friends from harm, but he felt useless in this situation.

“it’s fine…” avalon said dismissively with a small, sad smile. being at her and buckys spot, looking out at the same view they always did together, brought back a lot.

Off a bridge at the Huntington

I hopped the fence when I was seventeen

she stared up at the seven foot tall chainlink fence with fear. how the fuck was she supposed to climb this thing?

“ava, come on!” noah yelled from the other side.

“guys, i don’t think i can do it!” she pulled her jacket tighter around her waist, not sure if the shaking in her limbs was caused by anxiety, or the cold air that seemed to permanently swirl at night during autumn in the catskills.

“come on, don’t be a scaredy cat!” oliver teased.

avalon thought it over in her head. it wasn’t that scary, the worst that could possibly happen is falling on her ass. “alright, alright…”

so she started climbing the metal links, just as she’d seen noah and oliver do before her. at one point, close to the top, she lost her footing and almost fell. in a quick recovery she pulled herself up, swinging her legs over the top and jumping to the ground when she made it halfway down.

“see? it wasn’t that hard.” oliver said, patting her shoulder with a smirk.

“yeah” avalon smiled back. in her distracted state she didn’t realize at first that oliver had tagged her, until he started running up the hilly path.

shock spread through her face as she looked over at noah, then he started running too.

“oh, you’re gonna get it oli!” avalon yelled as she began chasing after them both.

she gained a newfound confidence that night, pride surging through her chest. there was nothing she couldn’t do.

Then I knew what I wanted

this conversation had been a long time coming. neither of them knowing the other felt the same way, but avalon wanted this so bad. it was the next step. bucky wanted it too, but he would never ask her to drop her life in catskill to move to the city. it was tug of war.

“i couldn’t ever ask you to leave your home. i mean-“ avalon cut him off. what is this kid not understanding, she thought.

“but you’re not asking me to…i’m telling you, i want to live with you in brooklyn.”

“but catskill is your home! you feel the same way about it that i feel about brooklyn!” bucky just couldn’t understand. maybe it was because he’d never been in a relationship as serious as this. maybe it was because he believed it when his intrusive thoughts told him she didn’t really feel the same way about him. but boy, was he wrong.

“my home is with you, bucky.” she said firmly.

that was the moment he saw it. he saw the same look in avalons eyes that steve always told bucky he had when he was looking at her. it filled his chest with both joy and fear.

And when I grow up, I'm gonna look up

From my phone and see my life

when steve got a call from sam the night before saying him and tony had found bucky, it wasn’t what him and avalon expected.

they raced to the hospital on steves motorcycle. upon arrival, avalon jumped off before they even came to a full stop, throwing the helmet off and running inside.

she spotted sam and tony in the waiting room, “where is he?”

“ava…” sam said softly, putting his hands on her shoulders. a lump caught in her throat at the tone in his voice.

“what happened?” her words came out barely above a whisper.

“you guys might wanna sit down…” tony spoke up. avalon hadn’t noticed steve come in, or tony hugging him comfortingly before.

the fear was clear in her eyes as she looked between all of them, sam ushering her into a seat as tony went to find the doctor so she could explain it all better.

everything sounded muffled, like she was under water. the word ‘amnesia’ rang in her head. it was the only thing she could really catch the doctor say before she was having a full blown panic attack in the middle of the hospital waiting room.

And it's gonna be just like my recurring dream

I'm at the movies, I don't remember what I'm seeing

bucky had been in the hospital for a few weeks now. avalon hadn’t been able to find the courage to see him, when on the first night sam came out of the room with shaky hands, proclaiming bucky wasn’t able to remember who he was. so far it seemed bucky wasn’t able to remember anything past age twenty.

steve went to the hospital to see bucky almost every day, and this particularly grueling morning he all but forced avalon to finally go with him.

“just because he might not remember you right now, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want to see you.” steve said. she knew he was trying to comfort her, but it wasn’t really working. they’d been sitting on a bench just outside the main entrance of the hospital for almost thirty minutes now, and she wasn’t past waiting another thirty just to spite them both. it felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on her.

before she could even realize what was happening, steve was dragging her inside and pulling her into the elevator.

“you’re mean, you know that?” avalon said as she crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall.

“it’s only the fifth time you’ve said it today.” steve chuckled.

as soon as the elevator doors slid open, steve was dragging her around again.

“i can walk, steve. my legs work just fine.” avalon huffed out.

“yeah, and as soon as i let go of you, you’re just gonna run for the hills… literally.” steve quipped back. avalon simply rolled her eyes at him in response.

when they got to the door avalon felt like she couldn’t breathe, like all the air was being callously pulled from her lungs. steve felt her tense.

“it’s gonna be okay, avi. i promise.” steve gave her a warm, comforting smile.

“no it’s not.” she whispered back, tears already filling her eyes.

“yes it-“

“steve, he doesn’t know me.”

“he may not be able to remember you, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know you.”

deep down, avalon knew he was right. she knew it, but that still didn’t mean she believed it right now.

“you ready?” steve asked.

“no.” with that, steve held her hand tightly as they walked into buckys hospital room, avalon guarding herself behind his broad back.

“buck? you up?”

“hey, stevie!” and avalons heart nearly shattered. it was the first time she’d heard his voice in over a month, and it was almost like the first time again. “who’s that hiding behind you?”

her knees began to buckle under all the stress she’d been carrying with her. she leaned against steves back for support, taking in jagged breaths.

steve turned around quickly, wrapping his arms around her comfortingly. “do you wanna go say hi to him?”

“i don’t think i can even look at him without bursting into tears.” she whispered against his chest.

“you’re already in here though, right?” she nodded.

“steve?” he sounded thoroughly confused. avalon could imagine bucky was probably doing his signature puppy dog eyes/head tilt combo, she giggled at the thought of it. steve smiled.

“yeah, buck?”

“who is that? oh, my god, wait, no, don’t tell me… is that your girlfriend?” bucky smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. steve immediately went red as a avalon let out a howl of a laugh.

“ewww!” “what- no- she- she’s not…” avalon and steve spoke at the same time.

“literally fucking barf…” avalon spoke through giggles. “no offense, steve.”

“no, none taken.” he chuckled.

avalon finally looked up at bucky, and he still had that same smirk on his face. she swore it almost knocked her off her feet.

“hmm, i don’t know if i believe it…” bucky said in a sing-song voice.

“trust me, killer. steves definitely not my guy.” she said, slowly approaching his bed.

“who is then? i mean, a pretty girl like you, there’s no way you don’t have a boyfriend.” bucky was actually flirting with her right now. it’s not like she wasn’t used to it, even when they started dating he would still flirt with her. but this was different, because bucky couldn’t remember that he was her boyfriend. she was so torn between crying on her knees begging him to just remember, and continuing to fuck with him. she assumed the latter would be less painful for now, so she went along with it.

“there’s a certain brunette i have wrapped around my finger…” she smirked back at him as she sat on the end of his bed.

this was certainly going to be interesting.

The screen turns into a tidal wave

Then it's a dorm room, like a hedge maze

avalon had dreamed of attending columbia since the day she toured it when she was ten, so when she got in early decision she was more than ecstatic.

meeting bucky during the summer between freshman and sophomore year happened purely by chance, because he was a student at nyu, and avalon still lived at home during the summer. it was a struggle to make it all work when they first started dating, but they did it.

junior year was definitely a bitch though. the first few weeks kicked both of their asses, what with bucky being an athlete and avalon being a biochemistry major. he had hours upon hours of practice and training, while avalon had two to four hour long labs and seminars.

one late night as avalon crammed for a quiz in her molecular biology course, hopped up on three pipeline punch monsters and a five hour energy, she heard an unexpected knock at the door. she knew it wasn’t her roommate, isabela.

avalon grumbled, not even wanting to get up from the seat at her desk so she called out, “who is it?”

“housekeeping!” immediately knowing who it was, she jumped up and bolted to the door, swinging it open.

“bucky!” she smiled.

“hey, doll.” he smiled back, avalon practically flinging herself into his arms.

“oh, my god! what are you doing here?” her voice came out muffled as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“i was homesick…” bucky shrugged. avalon pulled her face away to look at him, not a hint of anything but love behind his eyes. she pulled him back in and hugged him even tighter.

avalon was his home, and bucky was hers.

And when I find you

You touch my leg and I insist

everyone that knew bucky knew he was a playboy. never being tied down to one girl for more than a few nights. it was always like that. at least, that was, until he met avalon.

hes a brooklyn boy. blood, bread, born and raised. first kiss at nine and lost his virginity by sixteen. avalon was very different. shes a catskills girl through and through. first kiss at thirteen and still a virgin. she didn’t want to give all of herself to just anyone.

“you know, we don’t have to do anything if you aren’t ready yet. i don’t want you to feel pressured.” bucky said as they sat on the edge of her bed. avalon made sure isabela wouldn’t be back tonight so she could have the dorm room for her and bucky.

she really wanted this. she wanted it with bucky. she wanted everything with bucky.

“i know, i’m okay… i am ready.” she looked up at him to see the softest, sweetest smile on his face.

god, bucky barnes was going to be the absolute death of avalon fiore.

But I wake up before we do it

buckys recovery after the accident was a very long and hard process. it took nearly a year for his memory to be restored, at least to the point of remembering avalon and all of his friends. he was still staying with steve until his doctor fully cleared him to go back to his usual life, and avalon stayed with him almost every night, as he oftentimes had nightmares and she was the only person that could calm him down.

this just so happened to be one of those nights. avalon woke up to him thrashing around in the bed, which wasn’t too unusual, but it typically meant that his nightmares were worse than normal and it’d probably be a lot harder to get him back to sleep. avalon didn’t mind helping him a single bit. she loved him so much, she would do this for the rest of her life if she had to.

she wrapped herself around him and held him down as best she could, being his human weighted blanket.

“buck…” she spoke softly in his ear, and he jolted awake, hyperventilating and shaking like a leaf. “bucky- hey, hey, hey. hey, it’s me. it’s me, it’s just me. i’m here, okay? you’re gonna be okay, i promise. i’m right here.” she whispered as she ran her hands through his hair.

I don't know how, but I'm taller

It must be something in the water

avalon stood at the pier in riverside park as she did almost every day. just because bucky hurt her didn’t mean she was going to let him ruin the hudson for her. she had so many memories here, and the good definitely outweighed the bad.

“avalon…” she didn’t need to turn around and see his face to know it was him. she’d know that voice anytime, any place. even if she was deaf, she’d know the vibrations.

she pursed her lips as she felt him get closer behind her. “hi, james.” she replied plainly, looking back out over the river.

bucky was ready to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness in front of every person walking empire state trail. “avs, please-“

she finally turned around at that, hearing the nickname only bucky ever called her. it sounded so foul running from his lips now. “no, no. no. you don’t get to call me that!” avalon yelled, shoving him back. “not anymore…” she whispered coldly, tears brimming her waterline as she walked away.

bucky fell to his knees crying. he didn’t care if anyone thought he looked pathetic, he felt horrible. he didn’t care if they trampled over him, he already felt like he was dying inside knowing how much pain he caused avalon.

Everything's growing in our garden

You don't have to know that it's haunted

many years ago now, not too long after meeting her for the first time, pepper asked avalon if she could teach her how to garden. they planted a beautiful array of flowers around the outside of the house. pepper had enough skill now after all these years to do everything herself, and was even beginning to pass all her knowledge down to morgan.

after everything that had happened recently, steve, and everyone else really, started to notice that avalon wasn’t going out as much. she seemed in a funk and they didn’t know how to help. she was always at her best surrounded by her friends and family, but now she felt too weak to even get out of bed most days. tony and pepper insisted avalon and steve come over for dinner, so that’s where they were, at the couples cabin deep in the adirondacks.

as pepper prepared a feast in the kitchen, steve and tony drinking on the porch and catching up while morgan played in the living room, avalon decided to get some fresh air and walk around the property. she stared fondly at the garden surrounding the house, remembering when her and pepper first planted it. something near the edge of the deck caught her eye… a small bundle of pink peonies.

she wasn’t sure exactly what came over her, but the next second avalon was ripping them out of the ground and pulling them apart. the guys shared a look.

“is she… okay?” tony asked, brows furrowed.

“she’s… she’s uhh… pulling out the peonies.”

“why?” steve himself wasn’t too sure either and he was thoroughly worried and confused, so he went over to check on her.

“avi…” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

she slowed to a stop, holding some destroyed buds in her hands as she began crying. “i can’t- i can’t… it’s like he’s a ghost, just haunting me at every corner i turn.” she looked up at steve and whispered, “i just can’t do it anymore.”

steve leaned down to hug her, but just as he did she went right back to ripping up the peonies and punching the ground, cursing god for playing such a sick joke on her.

steve walked back up the porch, far more perplexed than before. “she said something about a ghost, i don’t… i don’t know.” he sighed.

“a what?” tony screeched.

The doctor put her hands over my liver

She told me my resentment's getting smaller

seven months had now passed since avalon broke up with bucky, and everyones lives had been rockier than the devils tombstone. bucky got a new apartment in brooklyn, while avalon stayed with steve until her new home in the catskills was finished. she planned to move back there and get on with her life, maybe teach plant biology at her old high school, or work for the wethersfield estate tending to the gardens.

it was a rare night that only ever happened once in a blue moon where steve and avalon were off work on the same night, no flowers to sell or cars to fix. they decided to stay in watching movies together while getting wine drunk.

“i don’t know, i just don’t think i needed to see luke peglers bare ass tonight.” steve shrugged, avalon laughing hysterically.

“oh, i definitely did.” she said giggling, taking a sip from her glass.

steve shifted in his seat to face her, “can we talk about it now?” he asked softly.

“talk about what?” avalon said, raising a brow. she knew exactly what he meant, but she didn’t want to argue with him about it anymore. they’d been going back in forth for months now and avalon just wanted to put everything to rest and move on.

“i know he messed up, avi…” she rolled her eyes at that.

“yeah, no shit. tell me something i don’t already know, rogers.” she replied, downing the rest of the wine in her glass. steve huffed. why does she have to be so damn stubborn, he thought.

“do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive him?”

“i don’t know, steve. i really don’t.” she sighed.

this was the first time in her life that avalon wasn’t sure what her future would look like. since the day she met bucky in soho, the summer her uncles brewery expanded into the city, she imagined he’d be there until the very end.

No, I'm not afraid of hard work

I get everything I want

nearly a year with no contact and house in the catskills still unfinished, avalon was going stir-crazy. she felt out of her mind and didn’t know what to do. steve always worked longer hours than her, tony and pepper were in the adirondacks, nat and yelena were visiting their parents in russia, sam was working on his parents old boat in louisiana, wanda moved back to sokovia, and she had not the slightest idea what thor, bruce and clint were up to these days, considering they never answered their damn phones. she was still convinced after all these years that thor didn’t even know how to use his phone.

she made the decision, without even thinking really, but she was ready for the hell to end. she wasn’t sure if this was absolutely insane and would regret ever doing it, or if she was pure genius and would regret having not done it sooner.

“there’s literally no turning back now…” she whispered to herself in the dark of her car as she began driving over the brooklyn bridge.

she got turned around at first, taking the route to his old apartment. it was muscle memory. she’d completely forgotten he moved. by the time she finally made it there it was nearly 11:30pm, and she was sure he would be asleep.

but she knocked anyways.

and he answered.

“avalon…” he couldn’t believe she was standing in his doorway right now, a look of utter shock spread across his face.

“hi, bucky.” she said softly with a smile.

“get in here, right now!” when she didn’t move, bucky grabbed her arms and pulled her swiftly into his apartment.

“well, hello there…” she said through giggles while bucky spun her around.

“oh, my god…” he put her back on her feet, and when her smile didn’t falter he held her face gently in his hands to ground himself. this had to be a dream, he thought. “hi, doll!” he whispered in the space between them.

avalon smiled wider, running her hands through his hair. bucky leaned into her touch, eyes fluttering closed as he let out a content sigh. “hey, pretty boy.”

she still had no idea what her future was going to look like from here on out, but she knew she needed bucky in it forever. they would definitely talk about everything later, but for right now she just needed to live in this moment.

they were finally home again.

I have everything I wanted

16 notes · View notes