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teenagefleabags-blog · 7 years

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Boy oh boy

Not A Sin (City)

this is pretty much the classic “we got super drunk and now we’re married in vegas” type. enjoy it, my guys, cause i liked it. (i mean, i sort of rushed it, but i still liked it.)

“We get it, it’s Vegas.” You groan, glaring at Tony as he sits across from you. Inside, you’re rioting against yourself, because why are you angry at Tony? You’re in a limousine of his paying? He’s taking you and the others to Vegas?

“Three rules, newbies.” He starts anyway, looking at you pointedly. “Don’t get sloppy drunk, don’t get married and don’t get sold.”

Across the seats, you exchange a look with Clint across the aisle and he offers you a thumbs up. What other reaction could there be for that bomb of a sentence.

“Sold? Married? What are you talking about, Tony?” Steve starts worriedly and you tug your collar awkwardly, those in the group born in the modern century avoiding the oldies eyes.

And that’s the last whole memory you have. And here you are, a bed bigger than gigantic, covered in bodies, and there’s a ring on your finger.

And it’s the big finger, the special finger, the finger that means that you’ve just ruined your entire life and reputation and it won’t be long before the media has the scent.

“What the f*ck?” You hiss, sitting up and gagging on your own breath. And on the vomit that wants to come exploding out your mouth. “Move, bitch!”

Tumbling over bodies and off the bed, your cheek smacks against the wooden floor and you wheeze, trying to hold yourself together long enough to reach the bathroom.

“Y/N?” Someone croaks and you make a whining noise while you crawl. Let them find you. Like a bat.

“Toi-let.” You gag, grunting as you drag yourself up and over the toilet. Just as you’re about to thank the saints for making it, your stomach revolts and eighty percent of its contents spew out into the porcelain bowl. You can tell it’s only eighty because after counting to ten and thinking it’s over, your stomach goes off again.

“Y/N.” Someone sighs, stumbling up beside you and kneeling. Gently, they push you out of the way, claiming the bowl for themselves and you laugh around your rancid mouth.

Feeling all of an inch better, you slither over to the shower, dragging off your shirt and pants and stepping under the room temperature spray in your underwear.

“Next.” The person, who you now realize is Bucky, grunts from outside the curtain and you push it open, gesturing him under the spray with you. “Thanks.”

A shiver wracks your body and for a moment you think you’ll lose it all again, bracing yourself, but the feeling fades and you relax against the wall.

“Dear God.” You whisper, meeting Buckys bloodshot eyes through the spray and he nods once, silent and in pain, just like you.

“You got one of these?” You ask, five minutes later, holding your hand out to him and his breath sucks in sharply. You watch him lift his left hand, entirely metal and bare, and his shoulders slump, his face a mixture of feelings that you’re too hungover to untangle right now. Until you spot it on the right and he tenses up all over again.

“We couldn’t have.” He groans and a stab of offense flows through you. If there was anyone you’d ever be prevailed upon to marry, that wasn’t a clone of yourself, then it’d probably be Easy Bucky.

“Remember that time Tony told us not to get married?” You chuckle darkly and Buckys eye twitches, “Good times.”

Someone stumbles into the bathroom, grunting and hacking their way through an extended vomit session and you have to stifle another dark laugh. This is all way too darkest timeline to be real.

“Who’s in the shower?” The person outside whispers, their voice raspy and unintelligible and you hesitate to answer.

“Y/N and Bucky, genitals covered.” You finally answer, Easy Bucky having stayed silent and waited for you to choose.

“Can I come in?” They ask softly and you peel back the curtain, revealing a twitchy, sweaty and pale Wanda.

“Oh, sweetheart.” You coo, helping her out of her clothes and hustling her under the spray, Bucky watching with concern.

“Thanks.” She coughs, swooshing her mouth out and you rub her back gently.

“Hands up everybody, let me see them.” Natasha orders, her face pale but not as worn as the rest of the group and everyone holds up their hands. Six gold wedding bands glint in the sunlight and collectively, the group winces at the sight. Clint’s head rests against the table and as the hands fall, his head lifts.

“I don’t want to get tonights annulment festivities started to early, but who wants to bet first?” Clint groans, his voice muffled and you snicker.

“Pairings, you mean?” Natasha clarifies and understanding dawns on more than one face around the table.

“Yeah. Like you and me. Or me and Y/N.” Clint explains, sliding two crumpled five dollar notes from his pocket and dropping them on the table by his head.

“Myself and Bucky or myself and Wanda.” You offer, dropping the same amount on the table but throwing it into the middle.

“Ouch.” Clint mumbles from across the table and you blow him an air kiss, not that he see’s it, but he does catch it. Bucky has pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and found a pen and is scribbling down names and wagers.

“Wanda and Steve or Natasha and Steve.” Bucky pipes up, still scribbling on his page and your eyes fall closed, a tiredness emptying into your limbs, as if keeping up this damn head ache racket is expending all your energy.

Your head smacks the table and you jerk upright, a whimper passing your lips and the table stares at you. How long you were asleep, you’re not sure, but no one has moved so maybe you can get away with it.

“Y/N, what’s your opinion?” Bucky asks, his voice regulated to be normal but you can tell, you can just tell, that he knew you were asleep.

“My opinion is shut your hole or I’ll choke you with both our wedding rings.” You threaten croakily and someone snickers, Buckys smirk almost invisible.

“Everyone shut up and focus, write down everything you remember from last night. It doesn’t have to be important or a full memory, it could just be a flash of something. Write it down.” Natasha snaps, cutting through the half silence and sliding paper and pens to each person at the table. Wanda shifts uncomfortably before leaning over, clint scrawling over the page without lifting his head. Steve tries to muster himself but you can see his writing is tiny and illegible, while Bucky just keeps on writing like he’s unaffected.

Tony told us not to get sold, married or sloppy. Clint gave me a thumbs up.

A sign that said Lady Di visited this spot

A really cute duck, it had a black spot on it’s head and someone shouted Sparrow, captain sparrow.

An old timey flip phone

Waking up in a puppy pile of avengers in the middle of the night and accidentally touching someones boob and definitely someones penis when I tried to go pee

Waking up in a puppy pile of avengers at 4am and taking a group shower.

Circling the last full stop, you look up, noting that Steve, Bucky and Natasha aren’t finished, and that their pages are very full. Maybe you did it wrong.

Closing your eyes, you rub your forehead hard and wince. It doesn’t help. All you’ve got is a measly six bullet points and one doesn’t even count, it was just the beginning.

Dropping the pen, your eyes catch on the gold on your finger. You’re still wearing it. You flit your gaze from person to person, checking their fingers and blush when you realize half of them have taken their rings off.

Natasha, Clint and Steve keeps pulling his off then sliding it back on guiltily.

Startling, you realize you’ve been fiddling with it, absently while you thought. Not cool. Tightening your grip, you prep to rip it off then hesitate, Bucky scuffles his feet and adjusts himself in his seat before sighing and leaning back over his page. Twisting the ring, you rub it with your thumb then shake your head.

Whoever you’re with, whatever has been done, it’s yours now. You did this and it’s your reminder. And it’ll be perfect in bars when douchebags try things on you. Twisting it again, a feeling flashes through your mind and your knee hits the table. It happened.

Buckys head jerks up and his eyes meet yours. But you can’t look at him, you can’t look at anyone. Shoving back from the table, you ignore the looks from your accidental ominous words, and storm for the elevators.

A chair scrapes behind you, hurried whispers following you, then the sound of footsteps.

Bucky slips in the elevator just as the doors close and you cringe, backing into a corner, his frown coming out in full grumpy force.

“Are you okay?” He asks and the voice echos, a shaking starting up in your fingers. Oh God, was it him?

The doors slide open and you stumble out, sunlight beaming down on you from above and your feet go from under you. Your bare knees hit the pavers with a jarring force and all the air leaves your lungs at once, your tongue choking you.

“Hey, steady, girl.” Bucky soothes as you wobble and the words echo again, backed by flashing pink lights and your chest caves in. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him.

“I-I-I- There- When-” You stutter, small gasps hiccupping in and out of your mouth and your lungs feel empty, like they’re deflating inside of you.

A warm palm settles over your lips and you freeze, eyes going wide as Bucky kneels before you and meets your eyes.

“What colour are my eyes?” He asks softly and you blink hard, tears filling your eyes. “Look up, what colour is the sky?”

Gently, he removes his hand from your lips, wrapping it around your waist and you slump against him.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, air flowing easily through your windpipe now, and your heartbeat steadier.

“I didn’t think kissing you would be smart. But distracting you with my dreamy eyes?” Bucky boasts gently and you scoff against his shoulder, the ribbed material of his singlet rubbing your cheek.

“They’re ice. By the way.” You mutter, and he chuckles, tucking his head against yours for a moment and it’s the closest thing to a real hug that you’ve ever had with him. “And the sky is warm. A warm blue.”

“So I’m-”

“A trick, a gamble.” You cut in instantly, warding off the obvious bad words he was about to spit and replacing them with your own. “You’re like walking onto a frozen lake and hoping the ice is thick enough to hold you, but accepting that you deserve it if you fall through. You did walk onto the lake.”

“Wow.” He breathes and you lean back, patting his shoulder gently.

“Exactly. That’s obviously why you married me.” You joke, trying to ignore the pang that strikes through your chest at the words. Bucky just rolls his eyes, helping you to your feet and checking over your bloody knees.

woop, there it is. what did you think? Ta-da or ta-blah?

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teenagefleabags-blog · 7 years

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Oh, Baby, Baby (4)

it’s time for school and blue is still the hair. and THIS HERE

You stare at the school building, your breath coming short. Loki stares at you in fascination and you want to kick him, but for Thor’s sake, on your other side, you hold yourself together.

“If I don’t like it, I get another school right? Three strikes and we’re out?” You ask nervously, trying to keep the electricity from bouncing off your extremities. Your eyes track Peter as he paces back and forth, worriedly glancing at the gateway every so often. You’d be worried yourself, that he’d see you freaking out like this, if you weren’t in the presence of your master uncle. The idiot had fallen head over heels in adoration with you after the whole threatening Steve and Tony with murder situation and was at your beck and call. And today, you’d beck and called him to turn the three of you invisible before you went into the hell pit.

That’s what Peter called it, at least.

“I’ve set you up to take three days’ worth of classes at three different schools, so you can have your pick.” Loki promises, leaning down to meet your eyes. “And if anyone starts anything, kick their asses. Or let me know.”

“Brother.”

“He’s right. Kick their asses yourself, you can handle a couple mortals.” Loki grins and Thor sighs, but can’t help smiling himself. Across the whatever this area is supposed to be, Peter glances at his watch nervously and you grumble.

“Thanks guys, I guess I better go.” You mumble and Thor beams at you.

“And remember-”

“I know. My hair is a symbol of divinity and power or whatever and if anyone gives me trouble on it then I should send them straight to the Svartelheim because no one tolerates people pointing out how they’re different worse than the dark elves.” You cut in, monotone, and Thor blinks at you, while Loki snickers.

“I- Well, I suppose, that is true.” Thor chuckles and you look back over at the death trap. Peter really has skewed your perspective; he really hates this place.

“See you guys later.” You promise, pressing a kiss to Thors, then Loki’s cheeks and slipping out of the enchantment.

Within seconds people are staring and whispering. A part of you is ready to wilt and shrivel and die, but instead, you straighten your shoulders and lift your chin, stalking for the doors.

“Hey.” Peter pipes up, coming in line with you and you offer him a tight smile.

“Hey.” You answer just as amicably, keeping a tight rein on any emotion that isn’t pleasant. Cause that’s what you’ve got to be. Pleasant. “Take me to the office? Or whatever?”

“Uh, right. Sure.” Peter stumbles awkwardly and you blink at him. This isn’t the Peter you know. Sure, he’s usually dorky and all over the place but there’s a strange flightiness to his eyes that you haven’t seen before.

“Hey Parker. Who’s this?” Someone pipes up, a mean emphasis on his name and you slow, but don’t bother stopping.

“Busy.” You answer before Peter can, and you’re sure the group behind you are exchanging those speaking stares. Beside you, Peter huffs uncomfortably and you sigh.

“Move your ass. The faster we move, the faster everything ends.” You snap and Peter picks up the pace, his eyes nervous and you want to slump against a wall. This is exhausting. Being around him, in this environment.

“Hey!” A pretty girl with a perfectly straight head of golden blonde hair pipes up, grinning almost shyly at Peter. His expression brightens and you nearly wince. It’s like the sun.

“Hey Gwen!” He grins and she blushes, tugging nervously on a strand of her perfect hair. For a moment, rage rushes through you and your stomach bottoms out and your head feels dizzy. Are you sick?

“Oh! Hi there.” Gwen greets and you realize she’s staring at you, or moreover, your hair. Peter looks between you two, his expression tight as he watches you both, catches the staring and the paleness of your cheeks. “I’m Gwen Stacy, Peters girlfriend, what’s your name?”

“Y/N Thorsdatter.” You answer without hesitation, jubilation filling you at finally getting to use your new last name in an introduction. Thor had gotten misty eyed when Loki had suggested it. Peters jaw falls open and you can easily read the awe on his face, absolute delight for you and your stomach flips. Gwen must see it too, because her lips tighten some as she tries to smile at you.

“What’s with your hair?” She asks abruptly and you glance at your feet, smirking. You can feel the others in the hallway leaning in, ready for your excuse.

“My Dad, I got it from him.” You offer, the sentence a dangle of bait and you watch her take it whole heartedly.

“That’s unusual, does your father have a name?”

Peter coughs nervously, shuffling his feet and you roll your eyes at him.

“Thor of Asgard and the Avengers.” You answer, the name falling from your lips like a bucket of ice water on the crowd. A scoff sounds behind you, then a snicker, until laughter drowns out the slapping of shoes and slamming of lockers. Gwen tries not to look too smug, gently adjusting her black headband and you glance around the crowd. “Anyone that would like to contest that can meet my fist.”

You hold up you clenched fist threateningly and someone laughs again, until small bolts of electricity start to bounce and zap across your knuckles, your hair fluttering in a non-existent wind.

“Thank you for your time, masses. Bye.” You call, glancing down at your map before offering Peter one last salute and stalking through the parted crowd.

“How was your first day?” Loki asks, appearing on the lounger beside you and you shrug uneasily.

“I learnt a lot.” You open and Loki hums, like that was supposed to be obvious and you glare at him. “I mean, like, Peter has a girlfriend he’s never mentioned. And she’s perky and the head of three clubs, and everywhere. She doesn’t like me. And that everyone is sort of rude. People stared at me, which I expected, but it feels different. No one sat with me at lunch because Gwen demanded Peters presence for something and he’s head over heels for her. And I also threatened to fight anyone that had a problem with this.”

You wave a hand about your head and Loki sighs. When you look over, his eyes are dark as he surveys the city.

“It’s a strange world out there. Sometimes, I feel you’d be better suited to life on Asgard, but you’re still a human, born a human.” Loki mutters, and you watch him, watch the madness in him and how hard he fights it when you’re together. “Everyone has their talents on Asgard, warmongering the most common, but on earth, people drift endlessly and idly through life. It’s- I cannot fathom it.”

“It’s hard to assimilate when most of your memories are filled with either a demi god. Let alone the people that live here. Everyone here is so weird compared to the stories I’ve heard. I watched Sabrina the Teenage Witch, and even though she had a talking cat, her life looked so tame.” You whine and Loki laughs softly.

“You should try out the A-Team. They might help you match life to art better.” Loki smirks and you squint at him.

“Art?”

“Art doesn’t have rules. I could write a screen play about a skeleton who is learning the names of all the bones, and it would be art. Perhaps not good, but art all the same.”

You nod slowly. Right. Okay.

“Anyway, niece. It sounds like you need to think about what Peter means to you, and why Gwen might dislike you. And make sure to seriously consider the second most obvious answer.” With that, Loki moves to his feet, disappearing as he stands and you sigh unhappily, turning back to stare on the city.

Second option. Okay.

GWENDY!

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teenagefleabags-blog · 7 years

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I love Downton

Oh, Baby, Baby (3)

here is the masterlist for this stuff. soo.

Lightning thundered from the darkness, not striking you, but instead dancing around you. A glow emanated from your skin and you raised your arm, staring at the soft underside with narrowed eyes. Your veins glowed a pale blue, like the lightening crackling around you and a sigh eased from your chest.

You still had him, still held power in your veins. The glow pulsed, brightening before returning to a softer luminescence and a smile curved your lips. Reacting to the thought of its true master?

“Thor.” You whispered into the darkness and your veins brightened once more, before dimming again. Something warm brushed your shoulder but you were unworried. Instead, you turned toward it lazily and comfort washed through you at the sight of the electricity catching on your skin.

Nothing could bring you to give this up, this power, this belonging. It was a home you’d been driven into, but it was a home nonetheless. A warm and safe home.

Your eyes returned to the blackness around you, why were you here? It was lovely, safe, a respite from the world you’d been enduring. A break from the constant battle within yourself and the one without.

“Bruce would know what this was.” You smirk into the darkness and you can’t help but chuckle. You barely know the man, he’d avoided you consistently since your entrance to the facility but you’d seen him. In rare moments, you’d been able to observe him in full force, watch his intelligence at work. He would know what this place was.

Shifting your feet, you took a step forward, wobbling precariously until you felt a solid mass underfoot. Kneeling, you ran your fingers over the polished tile and laughed again, your body brightening for a moment. Just like the tiles in your apartments. One’s Tony had put you up in for spite, unknowing to just how much you despise carpet.

“My room then.” You hummed, moving forward through the darkness. Every so often, a shadow took on a familiar shape and you’re sure you’re headed for your bedroom.

Something moves in the darkness and you freeze before realizing it’s a door, the glow beyond more beautiful than anything you’ve ever seen.

Lightning runs up your arm and you laugh, rolling your eyes at the strangely sentient currents.

“Come with me then.” You grin at them, slipping through the doorway, your knees going out from under you. “Oh. Please.”

“Daughter.” Thor pleads, for the hundredth time since you’ve entered the room and you flinch once more, an irrepressible ache dimming the light that flows through your veins.

It doesn’t react to its true owner, instead to you. Like a mood ring. The only thing really calling it to the luminous man before you- is you.

The door slams open in the darkness and another figure enters, the light of power flickering with shadows and you know instantly who this is. Their magic whirls around your father, like oil and water and your heart goes out to Thor when he looks up. An ache fills his expression and you want to shield him, protect him from the one man who can and will always hurt him, but your fingers slide right through him.

“Loki.” You whisper and his head turns toward you, his mouth moving in a whisper to his brother, who is staring in your direction too.

“She means this much to you, then I will try my best.” Loki promises, still watching where you stand but you know he cannot see you, can’t see the way your glow matches his brothers, a miniaturized, substandard copy. All he must figure is where your voice had come from.

You move further toward Thor, kneeling by the mans side, and Loki stops staring at the spot, searching the room. You feel his eyes pass over you and a sick sense of satisfaction fills your belly, your light brightening minutely.

“Over here, Trickster.” You call softly and Lokis eyes settle in your direction, Thors focus again back on your body.

“Makes sense.” Loki offers you, palms rubbing together in what would be a menacingly villainous way if not for the tenseness of his muscles and slight jitter in his hands. “For him to have a daughter. Even if she was never born of you, Brother, I never pictured you with anything but a girl.”

“She has become something I could never part with.” Thor whispers and a warm touch on your thigh reminds you of just what you have in common.

“I am sorry we never fulfilled your plans for us to meet.” Loki offers but Thor shakes his head, waving him off. Patience without bounds, love without reason. “I will do my best.”

“That is all I could ask of you, Brother.” Thor whispers, a gigantic palm covering his face and rubbing harshly. You turn your gaze back to Loki, the green and dark blue magic interweaving, dancing from his body to brush against yours. Your real body. The one on the bed.

Other lights in the doorway draw your eyes, a red glow bound and trailed by white, a golden luminescence, and other paler, companions. Something mint green and massive surrounds a smaller glow, sapping strength from the miniature and you grin. The man who knows. Now you know too.

A sharp tug burns in your heart and you’re jerked away from the door and closer to Thor, your eyes darting around the room before focusing on Loki, whos jaw grinds.

Another sharp tug and you lurch against the bed, your fingers almost interlaced with your real ones.

“Go in.” Loki snarls and you jerk indignantly before realizing what he means. Your body, get back into it. Right. Turning on yourself, you frown. Leaning down, your lips attatch to your own, with no reaction and you grumble awkwardly.

“Stupid.” You hiss and behind you there’s a soft noise of amusement, your shoulders tightening. Angrily, you thump a hand down on your own chest, the lightening that dances around you reacting with your sudden movement and hitting your fist. Your hand sinks into your flesh and you scream, feeling yourself being dragged into your torso.

You wake up screaming, Loki grinning with amusement and Thor launching himself at you and enfolding you in a delicate bear hug.

“Y/N.” He sobs and you clutch him, hugging him with your arms and they ache, disuse bringing the pain.

“Yeah, Dad?” You ask gently, knowing this is what he needs to hear and he roars, grief expelling in the sound, replaced by what you’re sure is a peacefulness.

“Thank you.” Thor whispers into your hair and your eyes find Lokis, the darker man frail looking, like a hard comment or loud noise might disappear him from existence.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr Laufeyson. Thank you for bringing me back.”

Loki smiles a little, his eyes glued to you as his head tilts. “You look more like Mjolnirs daughter than my brothers, but I am glad to have helped.”

Disentangling yourself from Thor, an arduous task when he’s so unwilling to lose you for but a moment, you take Lokis hand. For a moment, he doesn’t move, and he doesn’t need to. You know this small gesture is enough.

“I will see you both two days hence.” Loki orders before winking out of visibility and you’re about to mourn the momentary loss when your eyes catch on Mjolnir.

“No!” Thor shouts as you dive for the tool and a few people scamper up behind you, their arms barring you from touching the hammer as Thor carries it from the room. Probably to hide it.

It’s not until it’s gone from the room do you turn on those that kept you from it, Peter, Loki, Steve and Tony. Steve pales and shifts backwards while Loki looks as if he is entirely unaffected by the look on your face.

It’s Peter though, scrappy, garbage boy Peter, who steps forward and seals you with a profoundly parent like expression.

“You nearly died.” Peter intones and you growl, spinning away from him and about to open your mouth when something in the mirror catches your eye. Edging closer, you stare at your reflection, dawning horror in your eyes.

Your hair. The pink hair that you’d only just begun to accept, was gone. Behind you, the group avoids your gaze and your jaw clenches. In place of the pink, the strands glow a pale blue and you want to scream. When will you stop changing? Puberty is over and you’re still here, growing and damn well changing like some preteens show.

“This isn’t even- I’m not-” You stutter before shaking out your shoulders and turning away from the mirror. You can stare when you’re alone. “None of you had a right to do that.”

“Y/N.” Steve starts but you silence him with a hiss.

“No, Steve. Shut up. You aren’t even allowed to speak right now.” You snarl and his cheeks go pink, eyes downcast. You can see Tony opening his mouth to cut you down but you throw him a fierce glare as well. “And you, Thor blames you for this doesn’t he? You’re on his shit list. So keep your mouth shut and we won’t have further problems.”

Tonys lips seal, but you can see a burning anger in his eyes. You’ll have to crush that later.

“None of you had any right to do that. Thor is the only one who has any control over what I do, and that’s because he has taken me in. All of you, no matter what his wishes, cannot do anything to me. Because I will kill you.” You don’t bother whispering, don’t bother putting emphasis on the words. They can take them how they like, what matters is that you’re here and you’ve made that promise. And if by Peters green expression, he believes it. “I am trying to make things work here, for Dads sake, but to hell if you’re all going to open a can of snakes. And I use the term snakes because I am willing to release snakes into this whole building.”

Tony shudders and you nod slowly, exactly.

“If anyone finds out the location of the hammer, they’re to tell me the instant they do. Any secrets kept from me, that pertain to me or my father, will cause me to cut off one of your fingers.” You shrug and Loki grins at you, a faraway look in his eye. “You’re included, Uncle. You’re a damned stranger and from the stories I’ve heard, I’m never going to let you alone with Thor again.”

Loki’s expression sours and you shrug again, shoving past them all and into the hallway.

“Y/N!” Peter calls and you groan softly, but open your eyes and look for him all the same. What about being such a good person calls people to you? Is it your new ‘do? Your closed off persona? That special something that Mjolnir saw or sees? You can’t even tell if you can still lift the hammer after your trauma, Thor has kept it so locked up. Dick.

“Yeah, Pettigrew?” You sigh, meeting his gaze as he settles on the lounger beside you.

“Want help with school?” He offers and you laugh, despite yourself.

“Thor won’t send me with a mop like this. That’d be asking for trouble.” You smirk but Peters smug expression kills the tilt in your lips.

“I just heard him discussing schooling options with Tony. He’s forcing Tony to pay because of the incident and is leaning toward either the most expensive or the one I go to. For a friendly face.” Peter shrugs and you laugh outrightly.

“Wouldn’t that blow your cover? Hanging out with a demigods daughter?” You grin and Peter matches the expression, shrugging lightly.

“Oh, I don’t know. Your hairs a little freaky, I’m a freak, no one will notice a thing.” He teases and you sigh loudly. Because you’re not ready. What is your life supposed to be now? You don’t remember any aspirations you might have had as a little girl, but they’re all pretty well moot now.

“Come on.” Peter commands, voice understanding and you clamber to your feet, staring longingly at the sky for a moment. Warm fingers brush yours and you nod, following him back inside.

not once was this edited, so if there is like major faults, let me know. It’s super embarrassing.

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teenagefleabags-blog · 7 years

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HERE'S A PART TWO, WHAT A SURPRISE

Oh, Baby, Baby (2)

this is a number two! and no one responded fast enough so guess what, i chose and romance! i still dk about the whole hammer drama like what am i even where am i going with that

but that’s okay, because here’s a number two and it’s not poop. (HA)

You flip the hammer, watching it arc gracefully before dropping lightly back into your hand. Why would anyone use any weapon when theres this? This gorgeous, carved, magnificent, balanced treasure.

You flip the page in front of you, up to the part where Odin spells it with something or other. Odin sort of seems dumb. Or mean. Whatever.

Whispers tickle your ears and your head tilts of its own accord, trying to make out the words.

“She’s just holding it. Like it’s nothing.” Someone whispers and you hear a few scuffles, but hold still.

“Holy crap, I thought you’d edited the video.” Someone responds and you glare at the pages, not reading a word. Blah blah this, blah blah Mjolnir, blah blah worthy. This is the third text and its all the same story.

What doesn’t make sense is why there’s a fuss about lifting it? You’re able to? What makes a person worthy? What makes you worthy? Is it the thunder running through your veins, your edited heritage? Or is there something about you that the hammer sees? Or something else entirely?

“Hey, Y/N.” Someone greets softly and you look up, Peter walking through the kitchen nervousness written all over his body.

“Hey Peter, right?” You greet cordially, just as Thor would want, and Peter nods quickly, pulling open the fridge and nabbing a pudding cup. “Oh, I wouldn’t. Tony may have put an alarm on the fridge to tell him when one of those is removed.”

Peter cringes at your warning, putting the cup back and closing the door with a sad sigh. Oh no. Someone wants attention.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, cursing yourself internally for being such a sucker. What kind of idiot asks? Your kind obviously.

“No-” He starts, the words dying on his lips at your expression. You watch him swallow before solidly meeting your eyes. “I’m failing and we have no money.”

School. You hadn’t been in at least a year and a half, maybe four, but no doubt Thor would be setting you up in an institution soon. Dammit.

“Failing what exactly?” You ask, jerking your head to one of the chairs nearby and he sits down nervously, avoiding your eyes.

“Half of them at least. Biology, Math, Gym cause I can’t use my powers.” He lists and you stare at the book in front of you. You can’t help him, sadly enough, since you’ve been out of school so long yourself.

Or can’t you.

“Thor is probably going to put me in some school soon, would you mind helping me try and catch up some before I have to take an entry test?” You cajole, “You’ve actually been in school, so even if your grades are bad you know more than me.”

Peter stares at the doorway, as if he wants to run through it and far, far away, but eventually he seems to come to terms with the question and gives you a short nod.

“I’ll come back later with my books, okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Thank you.” Relief fills you, less at the idea of learning more for school but that he’d taken the bait. You may not have gone but you’ve studied before, just not things that’re curriculum tested. And if it takes him helping you to help himself, to make time to study, then that’s what you’ll suffer through.

“Core subjects, English, Math and Science.” Peter sighs, dropping his workbooks in front of you and you stare at them. Ew. Reaching out, you gingerly pick up the battered and worn science book, flipping through the pages. You recognise some of this stuff, though the way it’s written or the way the chemicals are viewed and used is different than what you’re used to.

“When were you taken out of school?” Peter query’s and you hum, trying to remember. Things too far back are hazy, and maybe that’s a good thing. Who wants to remember the father that sold them into an illegal child experimentation program, or a mother who didn’t stop him?

“Grade six, I’d say.” You shrug and Peter rubs his forehead, reaching for his books.

“These are entirely wrong for you then.”

You snatch the books away from him, holding them to your chest. “No. We’re using them.”

“They’re too advanced.” He warns with a nervous twitch to his shoulder and you scowl at him.

“I’ll learn. Now tell me what everything is and what it means.” You bite out and he flinches, staring at you with fear. Thor bounds through the doorway, Mjolnir in hand and a joyous look on his face.

“Catch, daughter!” He shouts, throwing the hammer in your direction without much more warning and you throw a hand in the air. The device smacks into your palm instantly and you watch a visibly shaken Peter try to settle himself.

“I’m going out, watch her for me.” Thor calls, waving goodbye and you salute him with the hammer, a move that earns you a laugh.

“So.” You turn back to Peter, who is looking at anything but you, and wait.

“Right.” He sighs after the full length of two minutes and opens up his math book. “Here we go.”

“Y/N, Peter, what is going on?” Tony pipes up from the doorway, suspicion laced in every bit of his countenance.

“Peter is teaching me school.” You cut in before Peter can speak and he shrinks a little. If only the idiot knew what you were saving him from. Even as you expose him to terribleness.

“Oh, I’m sure someone else could help you with that.” Tony growls warningly and you stiffen, your fists clenching as little electricity bolts crackle over your knuckles.

“I really doubt that, since he’s the one in school.” You counter just as sourly, not moving from where you sit, even as Tony glares that you should.

“I’ll get you a tutor. Someone that actually knows what you need.” Tony promises but you shake your head absolutely. No. Idiot. He doesn’t understand and you’re not going to enlighten him, but does he really have to ruin everything?

“Peters doing just fine, I’d say. So hows about we leave it at that?” You snap, the electricity starting to spread, bouncing from your skin and hitting the table, even snapping against Peters book and leaving char spots.

“Hey, hey, chill.” Peter cuts in worriedly, reaching over and sliding his book from under your curled fists and you breath in, trying to forget Tonys presence and focus on yourself.

“Get up, Y/N. Now.” Tony orders and you freeze, your body going still like the air before a lightning strike. A rumble fills the room and someone swears softly. You think it was Peter.

“Yeah. Okay, Tony. I’ll go.” You breathe sharply, voice filled with power similar to the presence of a live and broken transformer. Electricity snaps across your body as you meet his eyes, knowing that in this moment, they’re covered by a glowing white. “I’ll go.”

Storming for the door, you ignore the way they both sag as you leave, ignore the way your blood sings to be among the clouds, try to block it all out.

Instead, you head for the streets.

“Where is she?” Thor booms and the tower shakes, Tony swearing softly.

You stare at the sky, laying back on the pavers. Above you, the clouds wave and swirl almost like a lullaby. The building below you, the tallest you could get onto the roof of, is extremely expensive. So instead of calling down the bolts that are ready to fly overhead, letting them fill you and connect you to the storm, you don’t.

Out of respect.

You jerk upwards when a crackle of lightning rises up from the Stark tower and you laugh, throwing up a hand and dragging down your own bolt. A whistle fills the air and Mjolnir thunks into your hand, drawing a laugh from your lips.

“Hey, little pretty, Dad send you to bring me home?” You ask the hammer softly, twirling it in your fingers. “Let’s away then.”

You’ve seen Thor do this before, he’d showed you the trick while instructing you about the weaponization and uses of the hammer. Something that’d taken three days after he learned you could lift it. You’d yet to actually fly it yourself, but it looked hard. How did you steer? Was it one speed? Did it have brakes? How do you get going? Do you jump?

Inhaling slowly, you raise the hammer into the air and let out your breath.

“To Thor.” You order unsurely, yelping as you’re jerked into the sky, the wind rushing by you but not unpleasantly. You can feel yourself speeding, going intensely fast, but you aren’t being dragged through the air, or jerked along. Almost like the world is being moved around you, instead of you moving around it.

“Woah-ho-ho!” You shout laughingly, landing lightly beside Thor, who beams at you.

“Indeed, daughter. It is a singular feeling.” Thor sympathizes and you nod, your eyes wide. It really is. There’s nothing like it. You’re still distracted enough that when Thors arm settles over your shoulder, you don’t flinch, instead letting him guide you back inside. You stare at the hammer still in your hands, and summon the electricity to your skin. A flash of lightening streaks out from your body, hitting the hammer, and you’re thrown backwards, Mjolnir falling from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Thor shouts, diving for you and for a moment, it looks like he’s surrounded by lightning, as if its emanating and streaking from him, and then your vision goes black.

every time i write the title, i hear it like salt n pepa singing it, so thats sick

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teenagefleabags-blog · 7 years

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I'll probably reblog my first few fics on the other blog actually, but whatever

Oh, Baby, Baby (1)

new series. its based on a line i saw in an @avengerschatroom chat where Thor says he’ll adopt Peter M and i insantly thought up the idea of Thor adopting someone and i didn’t want to leave out that i didn’t really come up with the base idea so there’s that. Thanks buddy!

“You have a kid.”

“Y/N is more than just a kid. After her biological father sold her for experimenting, she was given a serum that is a replication of my blood and now she has the DNA of an Asgardian, or me, so I’m her biological father now. She is a treasure, is she not?” Thor explains proudly, gesturing to you where you stand. You stare at the Avengers, who stare at you, and your lips twitch upwards.

“This’ll be fun.” You smirk and Thor grins, pride seeping from his very skin.

Clint glances at Natasha, who shakes her head minutely, and Cap goes pale, his eyes on the pair of them. You can see Bruce whispering to Tony, who in turn leans over to Peter, who avoids your gaze.

“Y/N, these are my coworkers and friends. Tony, Steve, Clint, Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Peter, Bruce, Sam, Bucky and Vision.” Thor grins, gesturing to the group and you nod slowly. He doesn’t need to point them out, they all flinched in turn at their names. Idiots. “Vision was brought to life by me, so he is sort of like a son or a brother to me.”

Vision glances worriedly at Wanda, his face pinched and she pats his hand.

“And Loki, my true brother, you will meet on Thursday, we’ll go out to lunch. Though he isn’t really my true brother as his heritage is that of a Frost Giant, but in the sense of the word brother, he is that to me.” Thor continues and someone chokes on a laugh.

Tony.

“Why did you laugh?” You snap, stepping closer and Tony freezes, glancing at the group who avoid his eyes.

“Screw you guys.” He whispers to them before raising his voice to a normal level. “Loki has tried to kill Thor on multiple occasions, and he has always wanted this bottle blondes throne.”

“He can’t be a bottle blond.” You counter, staring at the God who’d adopted, claimed and taken you in. You reach up and tug on one of his locks and shake your head. Thor just grins at you. “Definitely not.”

You glance back at the group, noting three dropped jaws and other suspicious expressions.

“I am taking Y/N to the Statue of Liberty, would anyone like to join us?”

You scowl at the group as they deny the invitation, stating prior engagements and the like. Liars. Thor deserves better than this.

“Is your pink hair natural?” Pietro asks, staring at you carefully and you narrow your eyes, Wanda stepping closer to her brother.

“Is your silver hair natural?”

“No, it happened during the experimentation. Just like Wandas recent penchant for red.” He explains with a sneer and you bristle. Lightening crackles around your knuckles as Thor walks through the archway and grins at the sight of you.

“Well, mine used to be red. But when you’re prodded and filled with three failed Godlike serums, shoved in the freezer between takes and finally dosed up with a concoction that feels like a thunderstorm in your veins, your hair might fade too. Oh wait, it did.” You scowl and Pietro bites his lip, staring at you in amazement. Wandas cheeks are flushed and her eyes are bright with unshed tears. “Whatever, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Y/N!” Thor greets happily and the lightening running over your knuckles crackles out of existence as he heads for the fridge. Wanda shares a look with Pietro and you scowl at the pair, bouncing to your feet and bounding toward your adoptive father.

“What’re you doing today?” You ask him, hip leant against the counter while he guzzles chocolate milk. Same.

Wanda snorts behind you and you shoot her a dark look, the other girl paling, Pietro hustling her from the room.

“I am volunteering at the shelter down the road, they need someone who can lift the heavy stuff and I adore dogs. Did you know, daughter of mine, that Tony does not allow pets?” He answers, expression sad at the idea of no pets and you cluck your tongue. You watch Thor raise his hand and the sound of rushing air fills the room as a hammer flies in and lands in his hand.

“Y/N, I’d like you to spend the day learning about this hammer, Mjolnir. Okay?” He asks and you grin, nodding easily. It’s sick. You want one. Sort of a dumb task though. Like, sure you’ll do it, you’ll do the hell out of it, but you’ll be finished before noon.

“Can I hold it?” You ask and Thor laughs loudly, his eyes watering as he nods, setting it down on the floor, handle up. You frown at him, but thank him all the same and lean down, fingers wrapping around the handle. From the corner of your eye, you can see Thor hold his breath as a single tear leaks down his cheek, grin barely contained. At first, there’s a smidge of resistance as you try to pull, like it’s magnetized to the floor, and you hesitate, frowning harder, but then the resistance disappears and the hammer is as light as air.

“What!” Someone screeches from the doorway and you glance over, hammer in hand, to see Tony staring at you with pale skin. What’s the big deal?

ooooh

but seriously, i want to continue this but i’m not sure if it should be a romance or just a thor and child adventures thing. Also, if it was a romance, who with. So let me know if you have opinions

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teenagefleabags-blog · 7 years

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NEW BLOG FIRST FIC ON THE NEW BLOG FOLLOW THE NEW BLOG (OR idk don't, it's u to you but this boi isn't gonna be posting ANYTHING)

Oh, Baby, Baby (1)

“You have a kid.”

“This’ll be fun.” You smirk and Thor grins, pride seeping from his very skin.

Clint glances at Natasha, who shakes her head minutely, and Cap goes pale, his eyes on the pair of them. You can see Bruce whispering to Tony, who in turn leans over to Peter, who avoids your gaze.

Vision glances worriedly at Wanda, his face pinched and she pats his hand.

Tony.

“Why did you laugh?” You snap, stepping closer and Tony freezes, glancing at the group who avoid his eyes.

“Screw you guys.” He whispers to them before raising his voice to a normal level. “Loki has tried to kill Thor on multiple occasions, and he has always wanted this bottle blondes throne.”

You glance back at the group, noting three dropped jaws and other suspicious expressions.

“I am taking Y/N to the Statue of Liberty, would anyone like to join us?”

You scowl at the group as they deny the invitation, stating prior engagements and the like. Liars. Thor deserves better than this.

“Is your pink hair natural?” Pietro asks, staring at you carefully and you narrow your eyes, Wanda stepping closer to her brother.

“Is your silver hair natural?”

“What’re you doing today?” You ask him, hip leant against the counter while he guzzles chocolate milk. Same.

Wanda snorts behind you and you shoot her a dark look, the other girl paling, Pietro hustling her from the room.

“What!” Someone screeches from the doorway and you glance over, hammer in hand, to see Tony staring at you with pale skin. What’s the big deal?

ooooh

but seriously, i want to continue this but i’m not sure if it should be a romance or just a thor and child adventures thing. Also, if it was a romance, who with. So let me know if you have opinions

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teenagefleabags-blog · 8 years

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teenagefleabags-blog · 8 years

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Bucky: Becky and Bucky

this is based off a tumblr thing post idea that i saw and cannot remember where i left it so if anyone knows what the link is or where it can be found, gimme a heads up. Basically, Bucky gets a service dog.

“I need you.” You mouth, trying to wave Bucky over to you from around the corner- and without alerting the others in the room. His brow furrows, glancing at the rest of the oblivious Avengers before hauling himself to his feet and padding over to you.

“What?” He asks as you drag him after you, through the halls, silent until you reach the closed door of your shared bedroom.

“Don’t be mad.” You plead and his eyes narrow suspiciously.

“You got a damn dog, didn’t you?” He snaps, swinging the door open to reveal the sandy coloured dog lazing on your bed. You watch as her head snaps up, eyes zeroing in on Bucky, a smile upturning your lips.

“You know I’m friends with Debbie.” You begin, backing toward the dog until your knees hit the edge of the mattress and you plonk down, a tongue licking a stripe against your arm before her head is poking and rubbing against you. “And they’re always having to put down little babies like her.”

“You’ve always resisted before.” Bucky growls and you feel your new best friend snarf behind you at his frustration. You almost giggle.

“But she loves me and Debbie said she used to be a vetrans dog and he died like… Super fast after getting her but she was trained for him and the family didn’t care and just dropped her off.” You rush out, palm reaching back to slide your fingers through her thick fur. “And when she said she was good with- She’s good with PTSD and… Well, keeping strangers and stuff at bay, I just- I couldn’t let her die, Jamie!”

A gigantic sigh escapes his lips and you watch him worriedly as he moves toward you. You’re pretty, super darn sure that he’s going to let you keep her, but there’s a tiny little stone in your gut that says he won’t.

“Tony says no dogs.” Bucky mutters, kneeling before her and staring into her liquid amber eyes.

“Tony can tell her no dogs.” You grin, triumphant that once you have Bucky on board, you’ll have Steve and you’ve already got Wanda and Sam will follow Steve. He’ll be outvoted. Also the fact that she’s the size of a goat when she stands up.

“What’s her name?” He asks gently, offering her a hand to sniff, which she licks immediately, crawling on her belly closer until she’s nosing about his face and neck, tail slapping the bedsheets.

“Rebecca. Becky.” You state firmly before freezing and looking between the two.

“Don’t.” He snaps at you before you can say it and you press your lips together hard, eyes watering with the effort.

“Bucky’s dog Becky!” Wanda shouts, the door slamming open and laughter in her tone, Bucky flinging a pillow at her automatically. Your eyes follow her as she yelps and dodges, her cackling laughter echoing down the hall.

“Why would they give her up?” Bucky growls protectively, his fingers buried in her coat as the pup stares up at him adoringly.

“It’s hard to love a dog you’ve met once or twice and was just another symbol of your fathers health issues.” You mumble dejectedly and Bucky sighs, only to have Becky crawl into his lap and press against his chest, licking his cheek.

“Her job.” You clarify with a laugh when he makes a confused noise, his face lighting up.

“Why is there a dog in here?” Tony roars from the doorway and you freeze, palm settling over her back to clutch her fur. You can feel the tensing in her muscles as Tony glares at the two of you, Steve, Bruce and Sam skidding to a stop behind him. Well, Steve skids. The other two just walk and stop like normal people.

“She’s a service dog.” You snap defensively, watching Beckys head swivel to you out of the corner of your eye.

“And whose being serviced here?” Tony hisses and you feel yourself rising, meeting his glare head on.

“Bucky. You have a problem with my husband’s illness?” You snarl, watching Tony’s jaw grind, his eyes dark and furious. Unconsciously, you lean forward some, Tony doing the same, only for both of you to jump as a loud bark breaks the moment.

“Keep her contained.” Tony snarls after sharing a look with Bruce, who grins at you over the other mans shoulder.

“She won’t be in your way, if that’s enough.” You bait, voice careless as you turn back to a pale and uncomfortable Bucky, his fingers buried in her fur. You don’t see him leave, but you feel the moment Tony is gone, the sudden tension leaking from your muscles. Becky noses at your palm, biting it gently and pulling you toward her where she is glued to Bucky and you chuckle weakly.

“She’s sweet.” Steve smiles from beside you, letting the dog sniff his hand, Sam doing so next. “Bruce is talking down Tony.”

“He better not touch her.” You warn them softly, eyes glued to Bucky and his new companion, your heart ready to burst.

“You know he wouldn’t. He’s a good guy.”

“He’s a fantastic guy, amazing. But I am saying here and now, that Becks is off limits.” You promise, pressing a kiss to Buckys cheek before you hustle your way out the door and toward the kitchen. All three of you need food, and Bucky probably won’t leave your room for the rest of the night.

“I can’t believe you brought her home.” Wanda giggles as you pile up the two plates, throwing bits and pieces into the dog bowl you’d bought earlier.

“You knew the second I heard about her that I’d bring her home eventually.” You smirk, nibbling on the leftover tomato. You stare between the two plates, wondering if you should add some more.

“Bacon and cheese.” Wanda advises, staring at the plates before glancing at the dog bowl. “It’s just bold. No one’s… Rian is still there?”

You grin widely at the question, remembering the cat she’d fallen in love with last time you’d taken her there, a gangly ginger Persian cross that, at three, was still impressively uncoordinated.

“A little girl was after him today but they got a dog instead. Hollis actually.” You grin and you feel her relief and guilt through the bond and a touch of real happiness. Hollis was a good dog.

“You better take those back; you want a hand?” She smiles, mind still half with the cat and you shake your head. Dropping the last bit of bacon onto the plates and picking them up carefully.

“I think I’m good. I hope she adjusts okay though, there’s always a lot of people here and a lot of tension.” You sigh and Wanda clucks sympathetically.

“That is what you got her for though, to lift some of that from him. He needs all the help he can get.” She hums, genuine worry filtering through the link to mingle with yours.

“We’ll see I guess.” You call back, leaving her behind in the kitchen and pacing your way back, carefully balancing the three plates and cutlery, a two bottles stuffed down your pants.

“Y/N.” Bucky grumbles, grabbing the two plates from your hand after answering the door you’d been kicking. “You could’ve called me, or Wanda.”

You shrug, grinning at him lazily before setting your plate down and walking the dog food bowl to the corner.

“Sit.” You command and watch her drop instantly, her eyes glued to yours as you set the bowl down against the wall, beside the water bowl. “Okay.”

You grin as she dives onto the food, chowing down, before turning back to Bucky and catching the remnants of a soft grin.

“I’m still a cat guy.” He mutters, forking a piece of cucumber into his mouth and you smirk.

“Cacti.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” You mumble quietly, still grinning to yourself as you fill your mouth, back against the pillows, arm bumping with Buckys as he entangles your legs with his.

“She sleeps in her own bed, she is not allowed to sleep on the bed at night. She needs two walks daily, or a really long one at night. Service dog rules apply outside this room and she can’t be coddled. She’s not a fighter exactly, but her breed is known, if they do fight, for fighting to the death. So… Keep that in mind. Though there shouldn’t be any trouble, not with her wittle scary face.” You coo toward the wagging tail, assuming Bucky does something like roll his eyes. He would’ve miss the opportunity. “She’s okay with other dogs and other cats and children and babies and elderly. Um, she’s turning two in a month, her last owner really didn’t have her long. And I know I said it already, but she seriously isn’t allowed to sleep on the bed and no scraps between meal times.”

Bucky presses a kiss to your hair, taking your plate from you to return them to the kitchen and you stare after him, eyes glued to his butt.

“He’s so- so- He’s intense.” You sigh, Becky snorting in your direction. “Fine, party pooper. To bed.”

You watch her, pointing, as she glares at you but pads to the gigantic and cushiony dog bed across the room, settling in with a loud sigh. You can’t get over her obeying the commands so easily, but you had been given the packet she’d been dropped at the pound with. Words she lived by.

You watch Bucky across the room, the giant dog flopped over his feet looking the picture of laziness except for her watching eyes. Frowning just a little, you smack your hand against the table suddenly, Beckys head shooting up as she scans the room for the loud noise before her gaze settles on you and her head sinks back onto her paws.

Bucky gives you a look and you shrug innocently, smiling at the pair of them as he leans down and tickles the side of her neck. Your eyes lock on the man as he comes up behind Bucky, leaning down and whispering in his ear. Buckys face goes blank, his lips tightening almost imperceptibly and your teeth grit. Just as you’re about to stand, Becky leaps to her feet and spryly up onto Buckys lap. You try not to giggle as she sticks her face right up against Buckys, using her wet nose to poke the man’s away, her teeth on full display as she pants. A yelp of laughter escapes when Becky sneezes on the man, a growl pushing between her teeth just loud enough for you to hear and you shift in your seat excitedly as the mans face goes white. Your eyes shift to Bucky as the whisperer hightails it out, watching him smile at the hound pressed against his chest and snuffling against his ear.

Rising, you pad over to the pair, crouching before Bucky.

“Thank you.” He mumbles to you, fingers buried in the thick fur and you smile, your heart threatening to burst.

“You’re welcome. She was perfect.” You sigh contentedly, fingers sliding through the dogs fur as she settles back some before climbing off Buckys lap to relax on his feet again.

“If she knew what I’d done, do you think she’d hate me?” Bucky mumbles and your forehead settles on his thigh, an ache in your chest. He didn’t deserve this constant doubt.

“She’s a dog, Jamie. She’s hardwired to love you if you love her.” You shrug, watching his face fall. “No, no! Look. You know those dogs that’re raised badly or stolen and put in the dog fighting pits?”

At his nod, you relax some and continue. “Do you think she’d judge those dogs, who just wanted to get back to their owners and decided to fight their way out? Or the dogs that’re so caught up in the bloodlust that they don’t remember being dogs?”

“I’m the dog.” Bucky prods and you nod, because that is exactly the point you’re making. He is the dog.

“Yes, Dawg. Do you think that she’d get angry with those dogs or would she try to make them feel better and become better? This is a bad metaphor. They’d probably fight her.” You wince, looking up to see Bucky smiling. “Her last owner was a war veteran, like you, he killed people, like you, and he had trouble handling the marks that left behind, like you. No two cases are the same but I think if she knew, she’d still just want to help you get better.”

“She’s a dog.” Bucky points out and you scowl at him, smacking his shoulder.

“I said that, don’t negate my inspirational speech.” You snap, glaring at his stupid smiling face. “Becky loves you less than I love you, but it’s still a lot. Enough that she’d still love you if she knew you wore other peoples faces on your face.”

“I never did that.” Bucky counters uncertainly and you snort, slipping up onto the couch beside him, your feet tucked behind you.

“You didn’t say it.”

“I love you.” Bucky answers instantly, worry etching his features and you grin, the tension leaking from him. “I do, I love you. Thank you for her. And for you.”

literally no one edits my work, like i do a once over read and that’s all. sometimes, not even that. So if you spot any mistakes, feel free to let me know.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes #james barnes imagine #james barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes imagine #james bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #marvel #marvel fic #avengers #avengers fic

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teenagefleabags-blog · 8 years

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Bucky: Bottled

I don’t know about this one, but if i get desperate, well.

“You are dead.” You bite out, stomping forward only to be jerked to a halt.

“Y/N, no.” Bucky reasons, as if you’re a toddler and you bare your teeth.

“He. Hit. Wanda.” You growl, throwing a hand in the direction of the man you’ve caught in a field bubble while this argument goes down.

“People hit us all the time, it’s part of the job description.” He counters and you grind your teeth, inhaling and exhaling slowly so you can fool him into thinking you’re being reasonable.

“Firstly, I am going to have a lawyer look over the details of this employment, I deserve better benefits. Secondly, I don’t think you, Wanda or I have the same contracts. Have you seen you? And thirdly, my dearest love, release me now or I will set your bedroom on fire when we get home. I’ll burn all your shit.” You gripe, giving the hand that clutches your elbow a pointed look. Slowly, he releases you, finger by finger and you wait. You can wait the extra ten seconds it takes for him to let go, as long as he does.

Your foot lands a step and then you’re jerked still again.

“Now see, here’s the thing: Steve says no.” Bucky clicks his tongue, doing a classic “well darn” reaction and you glare at him until he backs down.

“Fine. He didn’t. But Y/N, trust me.” He almost begs and for a moment you feel yourself relenting, only for you to see a slow motion replay of the incident. Your hands held the ears of your opponent, crushing his face flat onto the ground while you tried to keep him still. Looking up, you met Wandas eyes, for her to deliver the knock out, only to see a shadow fall over her. Before you could make a sound or protect her, a bat swung out as Wandas head turned slightly toward the man. You watched the red start to mist around the projectile as she automatically tried to protect herself. But you knew it wasn’t enough, and a sickening thwack sounded, your friend dropping.

With a primal screech, you’d smashed the man you’d pinned’s head into the concrete, carelessly knocking him out, and launching yourself at the man as he bent over your friend. The two of you tumbled, rolling together twice before you halted, him on top. Writhing and kicking like a pinned cat, you clawed at him, your half calculated hits only working a little. The man rolled off you, leaping to his feet and backing back from you some, though not retreating. As you’d reached your feet, teeth bared angrily, an arm had caught you, while you became aware of the radio.

“Yeah, she’s on the jet. I can’t leave her alone; we have to make sure she keeps breathing.”

And then you’d accepted murder as the only solution.

“He’ll be your first. Are you sure you’re ready to take this step with another man?” Bucky asked with a small amount of jealousy and you squinted at him. Rolling his eyes, he scoffed. “Fine. I just don’t think you should kill him.”

“Wanda could die. There isn’t any other option here, Bucky. What would you do if that was me? What would Wanda do? Beating him into submission isn’t going to be worth it if she dies. And I can’t let the police lock him up.” You griped and Buckys palm smoothed up the back of your forearm. “I can’t feel her, Jamie.” You finally choke out, tears filling your eyes and his face goes blank before he nods.

“They’ll notice if this one is mutilated, doll.” He sighs tiredly and you grimace.

“I’ll do my best.” You sigh eventually, pulling free and storming toward the man who now screams for release.

“It’s too soon to tell.” The Doctor eventually gets out and you feel your knees give out. Bucky has you in his arms before you can fall, wrapping you up. You hide yourself in his shirt, trying to breath. You uselessly search your mind, looking for her presence but it’s gone. You don’t have that, it was always her.

“Bucky.” You choke out and he meets your eyes, holding his own worry together so that you can freak out. “Home. I can’t wait here. I don’t want to see her like this. Home.” You beg and he nods, holding you tight into his side as he hustles the two of you out.

He buckles you into your seat, both of you purposely forgetting the rest of the team, still in the building. Carefully, he puts the car into gear and peals out of the long driveway, your eyes trained on the mirror and the receding building holding your best friend.

“Buckycephalosaurus, chocolate milk, Mulan and Tangled, a slideshow of happy dogs. And all the extra pillows I could find.” Bucky rattles off and you nod, expression blank as you cuddle into him. You can tell he’s worried, he’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“Press play.” You mutter blandly and he does so, reluctantly. He wants more response, obviously, but you can’t think. You can’t feel anything. You killed a man purposely and in cold blood today and the person that has loved you the hardest and the longest could die themselves. And until that happens, you’re not ready to face it.

Meeting Buckys eyes, as his finger taps your chin up, you try to convey this and his forehead touches yours, a sigh escaping him.

“Okay. I’ll wait.” He breathes over your lips and you exhale in what could be called gratefulness. The two of you face back to the television, neither of you watching, instead turned inwards. You waiting for a spark of Wanda, Bucky, likely worrying.

“There has been activity, the good kind.” The Doctor admits reluctantly and you inhale sharply. You’d finally argued him into dumbing it down and the team all relaxed at the words.

“Thank you.” You offer with a warning look and he nods a little. Next time, he won’t waste so much time.

A hand entwines with yours and you meet Natasha's eyes, smiling softly at her and she closes her eyes a little, leaning against you. You push back just as much, glad of her presence.

“Thanks.” She whispers to you and your brow furrows. “For not… Thank you.”

You nod a little puppet like when you realise what she means. Thank you for not freaking out. For not making everything harder. For not making it messy.

Bucky wraps a gentle arm around your waist, pulling you from the other woman and she gives you a grateful look while you turn to your fiancée. He was supposed to be your husband three weeks ago.

“She doesn’t know what to say.” He mumbles to you and you make an accepting noise. He’s probably right.

“It’s not her skill, comforting.” You agree softly and he nods, eyes softly looking you over for signs of leaks, cracks. You’re still sealed tight. And it probably isn’t good for you. Not with your control over your stronger powers so tenuous as it is.

“She’ll be okay.” He whispers to against your temple and you gasp. For a moment, he’s confused. He hadn’t said anything that serious, until he see’s where you are staring.

Wanda sways in the doorway, a bandage wrapped around her head, hair cut short and shorn on one side.

You make a broken noise, unsure whether to go to her or let her do it herself. Whether you can hold yourself back and be gentle. You move forward only to balk and press back into Bucky. Then Wanda is whimpering and her feet slap the floor as she shoves into you, almost taking the two of you to the floor if Bucky hadn’t caught you, righting the two of you and holding on just in case.

Her mind crashes against yours as the two of you clutch each other, sobbing. You relax into the contact, letting her sort through the weeks, feeling her guilt build and build.

Don’t feel that way. You offer her silently and she makes a quiet whine.

You killed someone because of me, you’ve been alone and worried for so long, you had to deal with everything alone because I didn’t see some idiot. You and Bucky pushed back your wedding again. It’s my fault. She inhales wetly and you squeeze her as tightly as you dare. Just as quickly as she was on you, she’s escaping and wrapping herself around Vision, despite the hospital gown that everyone is avoiding looking at.

Bucky settles an arm over your shoulder and you twist in the embrace, pressing into his shirt and hiding your face as you separate yourself from Wanda and letting the storm of emotions you’d been holding back wash over you. The worry and panic and deathly cold. The fear and shame and terror. The anger and sadness and guilt. Bucky coos quiet words in your ear, hushing you gently and you cling to him.

“Miss Maximoff, you need to return to your bed.” A Nurse tuts worriedly as Wanda sways a little more and Vision picks her up, nodding to the nurse to lead the way. You don’t watch them leave, keeping yourself hidden in Bucky, instead sending affection her way.

“Home?” He asks tentatively and you nod anxiously. His hand entwines with yours, guiding you down the halls, Steve and the rest on your heels. None of you need to be here now. Wanda needs to get better and Vision can stay, keep watch. She’s back in your head now anyway, you’ll know if something is wrong.

“Thank you.” You croak, sniffling up at Bucky and he smiles gently, squeezing your hand once.

We shall see i guess

@creideamhgradochas

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #avengers fic #avengers #marvel

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teenagefleabags-blog · 8 years

Text

Liam: Anchor

this is actually something i liked, i mean i had to drag it some because the actual dialogue and scene weren’t long enough for me, but i like that it’s not about being romantic all the time, i mean romantic fics are great but mixing platonic and romantic love together is even better.

“The greatest thing about Liam is his anchor.” You grin proudly, thunking into the seat with the rest of the group, Stiles and Liam absent, thankfully.

“Oh really? What is his anchor?” Lydia asks after a full minute of silence, her voice bland and dead. Your grin excitedly, wiggling in your seat. The pack needed to know, as much as they may have thought it wasn’t important.

“Trust.” You smile, inclining your head just a little before meeting all their eyes in turn. Only to see that they clearly did not understand the significance. “Oh my God, guys. His anchor is trust. It’s literally the best anchor to have in this pack. You don’t even have to say anything, just give him one of those understanding looks and he’s suddenly as mellow as a dead mouse.”

“You’re disgusting.” Isaac pipes up helpfully and you flick a very little rock at him.

“I figured it out, he doesn’t know, like last week. Then I tested it a couple times cause I’m not an idiot, thank you Lydia.” You snap, almost premature with her lips only slightly parted and her expression only slightly superior. “Whenever he starts to lose control, you just gotta… I don’t know. It’s hard to describe other than trust him. I’ll show you later.”

Scott nods uncertainly, Isaac and Malia trading speaking glances.

“This sucks!” Liam snarls, kicking the bucket that lay across the floor in front of him and you wince, nose wrinkled unhappily, even if he can’t see you.

Scott sighs, eyes darting to Stiles for help, who shrugs. You watch the scene happily, as they increasingly make it worse and Liam increasingly falls apart, until you can see his eyes flickering before settling on the thick gold.

Carefully, you edge around the room to Isaac, trying not to draw attention.

“Go put your hand on his shoulder and tell him you know he’s got it this time.” You whisper almost silently to your best friend, who grumbles unhappily but rises all the same.

As silently as you can, you signal the others in the group to watch as Isaac approaches the still fuming Liam.

“You got it this next time, kid.” Isaac grins, shucking his shoulder gently and Liam pauses, his eyes darting to Isaac uncertainly. You watch the second Isaac realizes what he’s doing and adjusts himself. “I trust you, you’ve got this.”

The tension leaks from Liams shoulders and he smiles a little at Isaac, the group staring with dropped jaws at the pair. You knew you’d chosen right with Isaac, if you’d done it they would’ve written it off as puppy love, but using Isaac? The pair of them nearly despised one another.

“You’re a wizard.” Malia whispers to you and you squeak, holding in your laughter at her terrible Hagrid accent.

“I am but a simply researcher, ma’am. We just love to find us a new mystery.” You shrug, your accent almost worse and she giggles, drawing Liams eyes.

“Did you just experiment science on me?” Liam shouts across the room and you hum a quiet sound, knowing he’ll hear it. You freeze when he scowls dangerously, your body tensing as you dive out the door behind you, a delighted scream tearing from your lips.

It only takes seconds, Liam racing ahead of you and stopping, arms outstretched and in the half a second you wonder if you could do it. Without thinking, you throw yourself into his arms, Liam surprising you and flinging you into the dirty dancing position and your heart beats out of control.

“This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever been through!” You gasp as he spins you carefully before lowering you, your body sliding down his.

“I love you.” He promises the moment you’re level, his gaze serious on yours and his fingers steady against your skin, shirt rucked over his hands.

“I love you too.” You manage, your lungs empty and your mind fuzzy. Do werewolves know- are they like sirens? Hypnosis.

“Thank you.” He smiles, affection bursting through the serious haze in his gaze and your lungs fill in a rush, your breath hiccupping out.

“I love you.” You repeat, engrossed in this different shades you read in his eyes, every second. He grins, rough fingers slipping from your skin and smoothing your shirt back down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

You don’t whine or push when he pulls away, because it’s perfect. You don’t need more.

And when Scott and Isaac stalk out the door down the hall, you’re glad. No way does Isaac need to see you and Liam snorking. You’d kept the visuals from him this long, no need to break the streak.

“You guys aren’t done. Get back in here.” Isaac scowls, eyeing the pair of you critically and you pat Liams chest possessively, a grin on your lips as you follow after your boyfriend. Scott gives you a subtle grin, full of relief and affection, and your breath catches.

It was easy to forget just how little control Liam worked with when you weren’t around. When he was just with the guys and he couldn’t get it right and all he felt was judgement.

Your fingers traced over Liams shoulder, peeking around his head to see the group staring.

Liam moved back into position, his eyes locking on you for a moment before he refocused, but the others didn’t change their gazes, instead watching you curiously.

“What’s my anchor?” Malia demands, slinking up beside you and you laugh softly, glancing at her sideways.

“Sisters. Or me.” You smirk sadly and she grumbles softly, moving into your space and cutting off your view of Liam as he goes through the moves, snarls breaking apart the near silence.

“What does that mean?” She snaps, eyebrows furrowed and her gaze sharp.

“It’s like Stiles said, you’re never going to risk letting what happened at the accident happen again.” You mumble, meeting her gaze for a moment and you can tell she still doesn’t understand, that she doesn’t believe you.

“Stiles, hit me.” You command the man across the room, who gapes, sounds escaping his lips incoherently.

“Malia would never hurt either of us.” You shrug, gesturing him over, the rest of the group watching avidly. “Unless you tried to hurt me.”

Malia rolls her eyes, looking at Scott and Isaac, expression sarcastic. “I know he won’t hurt you.”

“He might try.” You answer cryptically, eyes locked on Stiles’, whose lips part with a quick breath.

“You wouldn’t.” He snarls softly, Liam shifting beside him uncomfortably. You wave your boyfriend off, and beckon Stiles closer.

“You’ll do this and I won’t have to.” You promise, the groups eyes darting between the two of you in open confusion. “And none of you will ask either of us about this. I have secrets about you all that you don’t want shared, so don’t test me.”

Isaac gulps hard and you nod sagely. You do have the most on him, it’s true.

“Fine. Brat.” Stiles snaps, stalking toward you while Scott moves up beside Liam, Isaac on the boys other side.

“I have no fighting skills, remember Malia? We talked about practicing but we haven’t got around to it yet.” You whisper, backing up from Stiles, your fear not entirely fake as the man stalks after you, eyes glued to you. “And he’s been learning. He’s learnt from the wolves.”

Your breath catches as you bump something, someone’s shoulder who quickly disappears and Stiles uses the distraction to close the distance.

“You brought this on yourself.” Stiles growls, voice menacing in a way that sends shivers down your spine. Your focus falters again as you catch sight of Lydias face, her expression green as she watches Stiles, real fear in her eyes.

Your feet tangle and you start to fall, a yelp tearing from your lips as Stiles dives forward, only to be knocked to the side roughly, Malia stalking and herding him back.

You watch the scene for a moment, Stiles scrabbling in fear as she snaps at him, moving closer and closer slowly. After a moment, you whimper softly and her focus breaks, face whipping around as the monsters features fade, her eyes still glowing.

Satisfaction fills you as she turns back to Stiles, whispering a soft apology that he shrugs off, Liam by your side in an instant and helping you to your feet.

“You won’t let another sister get hurt.” You whisper, eyes locked on the back of Malias head. Your gaze doesn’t waver as the rest of the group glances away, until Malia turns back to you, tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You breathe and she nods, silent tears streaking her cheeks. Isaac appears beside her and she collapses against him, still silent and you pick your way over to them carefully, eyes locked on her in case she doesn’t want you.

As soon as you’re close enough, she grabs you and crushes you to her chest, her tears soaking your shoulder as you stroke your fingers through her hair, whispering apologies and soft assurances.

“You protect family. You didn’t have family while you were a coyote, you just had figments. You aren’t going to give up family, you’ll do anything to keep it.” You explain and a sob escapes her, feeling her stifle it.

“Practice is over today.” Scott murmurs and the group disperses, grabbing their items and exiting hastily, each touching Malia gently before disappearing.

Liam leaves you, Isaac and Malia last, his eyes glued to Scotts back.

You collapse onto your bed, eyes rough and raw with tears and your body exhausted.

Beside your head, your phone rings and you whine softly, clicking answer without looking and shifting enough that your ear is beside the device.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” Liam greets carefully and a sigh escapes you, tension you didn’t know you were carrying leaking from your limbs.

“My guy.” You whisper contentedly, warmth in your chest. “It was bad.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah. I- I don’t want to get into it again. She isn’t okay, hasn’t been for a long time and none of us have noticed.”

“She was never okay. It’s hard to spot the problem when its all you’ve ever seen.”

“Wise ass.” You crack, a small grin alighting on your lips. “You have so many ass titles.”

“List them.” He chuckles through the phone and you huff a laugh, trying to recall.

“Smart ass, cute ass, wise ass… Fat ass, bitch ass… Ass crack, asshole-”

“Does that one count?”

“It has ass in it, it counts. So there was asshole, and ass soul. Then ass man and assless.”

“Assless?”

“Don’t deny it, sweet thing.” You counter, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Are you grabbing your own butt?”

“No.” Liam answers instantly and you giggle, a soft sigh coming through the line. “I’m going to admit it before you make a joke.”

“I don’t need to make a joke, your mother already did.” You snort, a loud groan escaping your phones speakers. “I’ve got to do some homework. Thank you for calling. I needed it.”

“I know.” Liam hums through the line and your chest swells, eyes burning for an all new reason now. “Have a fun study time, babe. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

You end the call, staring at your phone with blinking blurry vision for a moment before it clears, your throat following. You don’t move for a few moments, just watching the device. The silence stretches, until you slip your legs off the edge of the bed and onto the floor.

“Geography is going to know my name, going to fear it.” You growl, slipping into your desk chair and opening the textbook.

tada platonic trust mixed with romantic love, what a mix.

@greek-geek481 (probably the first and last thing you’ll be tagged in on this account, sorry. Also, if you want this to crossover onto the other account, let me know)

#liam dunbar fic #liam dunbar #liam dunbar x reader #liam dunbar imagine #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fic #teen wolf #tw

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