Out Of The Shadows

LOKI - WANDA

“Illusions” | request by @mischiefinthedungeons

Papa’s Hammer

Pairing: Father!Thor Odinson x Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 600

Summary: The reader is no where to be found, along with her fathers hammer.

Request:  Parent Request! Being Thor’s child and being able to drag the hammer across the floor. (Like move it). Maybe everyone is looking for the kid and the hammer, and an argument breaks out. While their fighting the young child (baby/toddler) walks in dragging the hammer by the handle and everyone just stops and stares. - I think it’s funny, :) Thanks!

You sat on the floor of the living room within the tower, playing with your little tot toys, not having a care in the world. Supposed, everyone was suppose to be watching you, except your father. Soon getting bored of your little stuff animals and little toys, you started to look around but a certain think caught your eye. Your fathers hammer.

Your eyes lit up as you spotted it so you quickly stood up on your short chubby legs of yours and ran towards it. “Ham!” You squealed when you reached it. You looked around you too make sure that no one was around to see because there was a rule, you were not allowed to touch the hammer but you being the little rebel you were, you countered against it. You grabbed the hilt of the hammer and slowly began to drag it off the table, only for it to make a loud sound when it hit the floor but not loud enough to catch anyone’s attention. With that, you grabbed your favorite stuff animal and dragged the hammer to where ever you pleased.

Back at where you were suppose to be, the voice of your father boomed. “Where is my daughter!? And Mjolnir?!”

Slowly, everyone walked in where they heard his voice. “They’re right he-” Steve started but soon noticed that neither you or the hammer was there. “They were both right here last time I was here.”

“Well, Captain” Thor looked at Steve with an annoyed expression. “they aren’t here, as you can see. Can one of you explain to me why my three year daughter was left unattended?”

“Well,” Tony started, pointing to Steve. “I asked Star Spangle to watch her.”

“And I asked Sam because I had a meeting.” Everyone soon turned to Sam.

“Hey! Well, I asked Bucky because I had to take a shower and… Stuff.” Sam admitted which turned everyone’s attention to the ex assassin. The loop soon ended with everyone looking at Clint who wore a sheepish look.

“I…Um… Had to pee?” He told which sounded more like a question.

Thor stomped up towards Clint and grabbed him by the collar, bringing him eye to eye. “You left my child to empty your bladder, Archer?”

“Thor!” Natasha yelled, hitting his shoulder. “Put him down, it isn’t his fault. We should have all been watching her.”

“Don’t pin this on us, Nat!” Tony pointed back at her.

“Well, it’s true!” Steve countered back. This started a whole argument between everyone. Starting on who should have been watching her to the reason why Sam left to why Tony couldn’t watch her and you were just walking around the hall, dragging the hammer along.

You soon made it back towards the living room when hearing the loud voice. “Well, I think I’m seeing her right now with your stupid hammer!” Bucky yelled, not noticing what he said. Everyone stopped yelling and looked towards where he was took a double take.

“Papa!” You exclaimed with open arms when he saw you.

“[Y/N], princess, where have you been?” Thor asked you while picking you up. “And you know you aren’t allowed to touch the Hammer.”

“I know, Papa…” You nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck, exhausted. “I’m sorry.”

He rubbed your back lightly. “It’s alright, little one, just don’t wander off again.” You just responded with a hum.

“Is no one wandering how she was able too drag Thor’s Hammer?” Bucky asked and everyone just nodded.

Thor’s eyes opened wide at the realization. “That is true. Oh my Odin…”

Of Oblivious Minds (4)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Angst

a/n: Thank you for reading and sorry for the wait!! I hope you enjoy :) Let me know what you think ❤️

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

~~

You were leaving today, and suddenly—with your bags at your feet and the air around you filled with stagnant silence—a few days seemed so juvenile. So… inconsequential in the grand scheme. 

You would leave, and when you returned everything would be the same. Azriel would still love another and you would still be left with the bleak realization that you had spent the last few centuries denying a love that you knew to be fruitless. 

Nothing would change if you were to be gone only a few measly days. 

But if you were to be gone a month? A year, even? 

Much of your work for Rhysand could be done from afar, especially with the library in Day Court. Helion wouldn’t mind; he’d asked you to consider an extended stay in the past. And maybe there could even be something there, something to take your mind off of your true home. 

The home that wasn’t Velaris. 

You saw him every time you closed your eyes. His rare smiles, his even rarer laughs; you saw the way his watchful eyes skated across every room you entered and reminisced on each twitch of his hands—the way you could feel it against your fingers when you grabbed for him in the busy streets of Velaris. 

Azriel was inescapable, even when you battled against your vision and attempted to drift to sleep. 

He was everywhere, everything. 

But he wouldn’t be in Day Court, and although that wouldn't stop your thoughts, it would be something. It would be distance. 

With a flick of your wrist, you sent your bags away to Day Court and heaved in an uncomfortably large breath. You knew he would do little to deny you, but you still needed to ask Rhys. He was your High Lord and employer, above all your friend, and you knew it would take a little persuading. 

Maybe tears. Yes, tears were very moving and equally as conjurable at the moment.

It only took one step before the knock on your door left you still. Your shoes made a dent in the carpet and you could hear him breathing on the other side of the ornately carved wood. You could always tell when it was Azriel. 

You shifted your weight from one knee to the next, gripping your skirts at the thigh. Azriel knocked again, this time in a faster pattern—more rushed. 

You bit into your lip. You hadn’t planned to see him again, not before you left. You would deal with the repercussions of such an act later on, but not now. Not when you had finally gotten your emotions under control for long enough to have a conversation with Rhys. 

It made sense to you now why you had repressed this for so long. 

The sound of your voice was startling. “Come in.” 

The door creaked, but the sound was overpowered by Azriel’s boot clicking against shining marble. The shadowsinger entered before his shadows, but the wisps followed close behind, quickly abandoning their master in favor of darting toward you. They twisted up your legs and elbows, rolling into your hair and dancing along your fingertips. 

Something like fear, love, crushing defeat tugged and tugged at your chest. 

“Azriel,” you greeted, aiming for a surprised tone and failing. “Have you come to see me off?” 

The spymaster didn’t smile. “Rhys sent me. He said you might have a message for him.” 

That cauldron-damned meddler. Of course he somehow knew about your reservations. You doubted he knew exactly what you had to say, but you had been dragging your feet all morning and were currently about an hour late for your own departure. 

And of course he had sent Azriel of all people. 

“Oh! Well, I suppose I could go and—” 

“Why is half of your vanity gone?” 

You blinked, startled by the words. If Azriel was anything, he was polite and never one to cut someone off. You went to search Azriel’s expression but found him zeroed in on the table pushed into the corner of your room. 

“What?” It was all you could think to formulate. 

But Azriel was quick to respond. “Almost all of your things are gone. Your perfumes and the pots of cream you keep on the side. You’ve only left the items you don’t use anymore.” 

“How do you know—” you cut yourself off this time, ignoring the glaring question that tried to blind you. “Azriel, I’m going away… to Day Court. You know this.”

But Azriel only shook his head, stalking over to the table and yanking the drawer open so harshly it shook the mirror. When he didn’t find what he was looking for, he went to your closet, throwing open the door, shoulders rising and falling with more effort. 

“Azriel—” 

“You’ve packed too much.” He turned to you, some of his shadows returning to wind around his chest. “You’ve taken most of your clothes.” 

“You know I always overpack,” you laughed, but the laugh sounded fake, painful. 

You fought the urge to cower under Azriel’s scrutinizing gaze. It was as if he was on fire, as if he was aflame and filled with something that had been pent up for far too long. If someone, anyone, were to look inside of you, they would see the same thing. 

Which is why you needed to get far, far away from this situation. Away from him.

But the longer you looked back at him—the longer you tried to slap that easygoing smile on your face—the longer he stared back with the same steady intensity. 

“Is something the matter?” you tried. 

Azriel’s hand twitched. 

That feeling crept along the edges of your ribs once again. 

“Is something the matter?” he parroted, jaw so impossibly tight the words came out pinched. 

You finally looked away, playing with your fingers. “Yes?” 

He started laughing. But it wasn’t the kind of laugh that made you feel light. It didn’t fill you with pride for eliciting such a sound from him, nor did it make you want to laugh in return. It made you feel dark; as Azriel laughed, you wanted to heave the sound back within the depths it flowed from. 

“There are several things that are the matter, y/n, but I’d say the most pressing is that you have been avoiding me for weeks. That every moment I’ve tried to spend with you has been promptly evaded and now you’re leaving and you had no intention of saying goodbye.” 

“I was going to—” 

“Please,” he pleaded, eyes soft yet so achingly desperate. “Don’t lie to me. Not right now.” 

The indent in the carpet was becoming permanent; you couldn’t seem to move. 

“I’ve been… I’ve been going through a hard time. Leaving seemed like it was the best for me. Just for a little while. Just until I could sort a few things out.” 

“For how long?” he asked, voice cracking along the precipice of the last word. 

You paused then, staring hard into his eyes. “A while.”

A shaky breath left the shadowsinger, his chest reflecting the sound. He ran a hand into his hair and tugged at the roots, an action you hadn’t seen him do in years. A sickening sort of pity ran through you—a sort of responsibility. 

Because Azriel was your friend, and he was going through something, too. You had no idea if his mate reciprocated his feelings. You found it hard to believe that anyone wouldn’t love Azriel, but the conversation you’d overheard last week gave nothing away. 

Maybe Azriel hadn’t told her yet because she didn’t love him. And maybe you were being a bad friend by not being there for him. 

Tossing your hurt to the side, you took a step forward. Azriel watched the movement, eyes flickering behind you to catch the previous imprint of your feet on the carpet. 

“I’m sorry,” you began, resolute. “I’m sorry that you felt you couldn’t tell me. And that you’ve been… having a hard time. I know I’m not leaving at the most opportune time, but you can write to me and I can help you.” 

Some of the brokenness on Azriel’s face morphed into confusion. “Help me?” 

“With your mate.” 

And it was as if Azriel had been shot. He physically recoiled, his right foot coming down to catch him as he fixed his imbalance. 

“I know you wanted to keep it private, but I overheard. Azriel—” You swallowed. Hard. “—It’s so wonderful that you’ve found your mate.” 

Something was set in motion, and Azriel was shaking his head. His gaze was fixed on you and his eyebrows were pushed together in a painful expression and he just kept shaking his head as your chest caved and it became hard to breathe. Something pulled from within and it felt like your heart was unraveling. 

Couldn’t he see how hard this was? How much it took from you just to acknowledge that he was destined for someone else? 

The shadowsinger seemed unaware of your inner turmoil, instead taking long steps across the room until he reached you. He leaned down, brought his hands up to your face, and he broke another piece of you as his forehead touched yours. 

He was whispering something, words so low even your fae ears couldn’t catch them, but you knew they were fast. Fast and incoherent and you weren’t even able to find their meaning in his expression because his eyes were squeezed so tightly. 

“Please, just notice. See it, angel, it’s there.” 

Your jaw quivered. He was so close to you. The few words you were able to make out were confusing. 

“My oblivious girl. Please.” 

“Azriel—” 

When he opened his eyes, the world fell off its axis. The fear in your chest—the feeling that had been unraveling you and leaving you weak—alighted. It pulled and pulled but this time it didn’t hurt. It no longer left splinters embedded in your ribs or took the breath from your lungs. 

As you looked up at Azriel, it was only soothing and warm and—

Mate. Azriel was your mate. 

You pushed back from him, stumbling and catching on the rug as you went toppling down to the floor. There was no pain from the fall; a numbness overtook your body where the warmth once flowed. 

“You’re my—Azriel, you—” 

There were no endings to the sentences you began. Azriel tried reaching a hand down, but when you wouldn’t take it he joined you on the floor. He sat with you between his legs, bringing you forward until your knees curled against his chest. And then he wrapped you in his arms and then his wings, taking calming breaths as yours ran rampant. 

“I am your mate,” he finished for you, so much more soothing than you had ever heard him speak.

“But Elain,” you gasped out, finding solace against his chest. You leaned your forehead against him and relished in the heat. 

“What of Elain?” Azriel asked, bringing a hand up against the back of your head. 

“You love Elain.” 

“I do not love Elain.” 

“And Mor?” 

“I do not love Mor, either.” 

You nodded against him. This would take longer for you to come to terms with later, but only simple answers were getting through to you now. And the bond—the bond—sang as you touched Azriel. The bond didn’t care if you were confused or hurt or disbelieving.

Your mind swam as a new influx of emotions filled you, but there was a distinction to them and you knew they weren’t your own. At first, it was hard to pick through them all; there were so many that they all blended together. There was an obvious tender love, but also a crippling fear that mingled with a darkness you couldn’t place. There was adoration and hopefulness and a sense of peace that lay at the bottom of all else. 

But you could tell this peace was new. It wasn’t as deeply ingrained as the others. 

Azriel leaned back, craning his neck down to catch your gaze. “Do you feel that?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued. “Those feelings have always belonged to you. All of them. I know there is not a lot of proof of that, and I will spend the rest of my life making up for that, but they have always belonged to you.” 

“Have you always felt mine?” you asked, voice sounding unused. 

“Since I’ve felt the bond,” he nodded. 

“How long have you…” 

Azriel sighed, but it wasn’t out of irritation. The bond told you as much. “Months.” 

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “Then why did you never—” 

Azriel shushed you as your voice cracked. He ran both hands behind your head and held you steady as his lips pressed to your forehead. 

“I didn’t want to lose you.” 

Throat still closed, words still choked, you replied, “That is idiotic.” 

This time, when Azriel laughed, you felt that pride spark up in your chest. “I know, angel. Gods, do I know that.” 

There was a brief pause, a respite to the revelations and emotions in the room. You counted your breaths as you pressed against Azriel, and he ran his hands up and down the length of your spine, chaste kisses pressed to your head as the minutes ticked by. 

“Don’t leave.” Azriel broke the silence. “Stay. Please.” 

When you didn’t answer, he kept talking. 

“You don’t have to love me. I know that is a lot to ask and there are still so many questions left unanswered. But, y/n, I have loved you for a long, long time. I couldn’t bear it if you left. It has been difficult to even function this past week with you avoiding me. If you were to leave—”

“I only avoided you because I thought it wasn’t me,” you interrupted, pulling back once again to meet his gaze. “I thought you didn’t love me and I couldn’t stand it, so I wanted to leave.”

A grim line set into Azriel’s mouth. The desperation returned to his eyes. “We have wasted so much time.” 

“I wouldn’t say wasted. Not when you were here. Not when I was still with you.” 

“Angel.” The word came out like a plea, and then his lips were on yours. His hands pressed you closer and his mouth was hot against yours and it was everything you’d spent three centuries ignoring. You loved him, gods did you love him, and in this kiss was every proof that he loved you. 

You tangled your fingers in his hair, musing the already displaced strands. His wings quivered as you kissed him more, the action sending little pools of light into the bubble he had created. They felt warm against your eyelids, and when you pulled away to see the cause, Azriel moved his attention to your jaw, your cheek, your neck. 

“You are my mate,” he affirmed against your skin, low and gravelly. “Mine.” 

You pulled his head away, leaning your forehead against his own. “And you are mine.” 

“I love you,” he said. 

And you couldn’t say it back, not yet. Azriel seemed unperturbed by this and accepted your small smile as a reply, reciprocating it tenfold. His smile shone in the pockets of light created by his wings and his eyes no longer looked sad. It made you want to say it back.

When that guilt flooded you and your mouth parted, there was a tug at the bond instead. You gasped at the feeling, blinking up at Azriel with owlish eyes. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted, smile softening as he ran scarred fingers along your cheeks. “Every time I felt your doubt or fear. I figured I could startle it out of you.” 

You rubbed at your chest. “It feels warm. And…” You couldn’t find the words.

“It feels good, angel. This bond was cold and it hurt, but it—it feels good. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” 

A breathy, awestruck laugh escaped you. “You know, I still have to go to Day for the weekend. It’s court-appointed.” 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Then I will come with you,” he grumbled, words muffled against your skin. 

“You cannot. But you can wait for me to return and I will come right back here.”

kitty

The First Avenger (2011) + The Winter Soldier (2014) // Civil War (2016)

Hi there! My period is hitting me like a truck, could I please request fluffy Bucky? Maybe like reader and him go grocery shopping for ice cream or something? I'm in dire need of some fluff. Thank you very much dearie 😊💕

You were in that painful and awful day of the month, lying on your stomach and hugging one of the pillows, a failed attempt to make yourself feel better but, in fact, while you were like that nothing would get better. You stayed like that until the moon came to the sky, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to make the pain go away. You heard your door open and quietly footsteps getting closer to you, the mattress lowered slightly with the weight and then you felt your boyfriend scent. He stroked your hair, taking it out of your face and kissed your head.

“Baby, do you wanna go to the grocery with me? There’s a new ice cream flavour.” he murmured quiet, tenderly smiling when you moved a little so you could look at him.

“Can you bring to me? I’m not feeling well.” you tried not to whine about your period but Bucky was always trying to spoil you. So there you were pouting and making him nod carefully.

“Sure thing, doll. I’ll come back in one minute.” Bucky kissed your forehead and then left you alone again.

You didn’t know exactly how long you waited, but when you were finally drifting off to sleep you heard Bucky come in. You grumbled sleepily as the light turned on, but soon you rested your hands on the mattress to lift and turn your body, so you could sit and lean back against the headboard. Bucky smiled sweetly, taking the ice cream pots, chocolate and Doritos from the bag and them walking in your direction. He sat in your empty side, placing the food in front of him so he could open one of the ice cream and give to you. Silently, you accepted and took one scoop of the sweet, closing your eyes when you felt the coffee and nut touch your tongue. Bucky placed his arm around your waist, pulling you to lean against him and thus let you more comfortable. You hummed happily after almost all day feeling grumpy, and you knew that you were lucky to have a man to spoil you like that.

“Did you liked the new flavour?” he whispered quietly and you just nodded, too concentred in finishing your ice cream and Bucky chuckled “There’s another one here, but do you wanna eat Doritos first? And watch some movie?”

“I love you so much… You know that, right?” you sighed, hiding for a moment your face in the curve of his neck, your cold breath causing him chills and making him giggled.

“I love you too, baby.”

(Masterlist)

Are We There Yet? (Steve/Sam/Bucky x Reader)

Not a request but based off of this post 

@pleasecallmecaptain ;)

word count: 2058

warnings: cursing

“No.”

“(Y/N), you didn’t even give me a chance to ask my question!” the man trailed behind you, flailing his arms behind you exasperatedly. You knew exactly what he wanted to ask and there was no way in hell you’d sit down and agree with him. “Just give me a chance, (Y/N)?”

“No.”

“But-”

“Steve, I swear to God,” you hissed, walking past him to avoid his gaze as you struggled to continue what you were doing before your friend stepped into the room. Pacing from left to right, you could barely even remember what you were doing as your mind was clouded with stress and guilt when Steve threw you the look you tried so hard to avoid receiving. “Steve…” your voice trailed off, squinting your eyes threateningly at him. Your efforts barely did anything as his eyes screamed disappointment at you. A loud, obvious sigh escaped your lips as you threw your arms up in the air. “Fine. Ask me.”

Keep reading

24 and 35 for Peter please?

24. “If I trip over one more of your shoes, I’m throwing them all away.”35. “I’ll just tell your mom on you.”_____________________________________________________________

“Dan Reynolds, put that down!” you yell across the chaotic apartment, rushing towards the mischievous seven year-old holding the kitchen knife. He grins at you and drops it on the floor with a clatter before rushing away to find another part of the home to wreak havoc on.

Whoever said babysitting is fun is a dirty liar.

Placing the knife safely back into the block, you turn around and look for where the little monster went. Then you hear a knock on the door. Groaning, you head towards the door, already thinking of how you’re going to tell Mrs. Reynolds that you can’t babysit anymore. You cry out when you trip over something just as you reach the door, and you place your hands against it to regain your balance.

Looking down, you see another one of Dan’s shoes. “Daniel, if I trip over one more of your shoes, I’m throwing them all away!”

With that said, you open the door, and are shocked to see a cute boy around your age, smiling softly down at you with his hands in his pockets. “Hey, I-I’m Peter. I live in the apartment next door.”

You smile bashfully up at him, internally wishing he didn’t see you in this state. “I’m (y/n).”

He smiles crookedly, and your heart melts a little. “So, you’re the Reynolds’ babysitter this week?” You nod. “That’s a crazy thing to take on. Do you mind if I come in?”

Shaking away your mindlessness, you open the door wider and allow him to enter. “Watch out for the shoes,” you warn.

Peter looks around the home, and a blush dusts your cheeks at the state of the apartment. “You know,” he says, “this is the best I’ve seen this apartment when sitters come.”

You scoff. “Seriously?”

He nods. “Daniel!”

“Peter!” You hear the little boy squeal before he comes flying around the corner in his pajamas (that you barely managed to get on him) and hugs Peter around the tops of his legs.

Peter laughs, and your mouth drops open in shock. “Hey, kiddo. Having fun?” Dan turns around and gives you his mischievous grin again and nods. You resist the urge to scowl down at him. “Good!” Peter exclaims. “But it’s time for you to go to bed, but first you have to put your shoes away like (y/n) said.”

Dan crosses his arms and fixes Peter with a glare. “But what if I don’t wanna?”

“I’ll just tell your mom on you.”

Dan’s eyes widen with shock and fear and he rushes away, beginning to pick up his shoes and put them on the rack by the door. You look up at Peter in shock. “How–”

“If there’s one thing you need to know about Dan, it’s that he’s terrified of his mother.” Peter laughs. “Kinda weird, actually, because his mom is the sweetest and,” he leans over and whispers, “spoils him rotten, if you can’t already tell.”

You laugh, and watch as Dan trudges toward his bedroom, mumbling a half-hearted “good night.” Peter and you say it back, and you finally get a good look at the apartment. “This is going to take forever to clean up,” you realize.

Peter glances over at you, and now, it’s his turn to blush. Your (h/l), (h/c) hair is thrown up in a messy ponytail with strands falling out, but he couldn’t care less. And your eyes are beautiful. He gulps and looks away before you notice him staring. You just might be one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever met.

“You know,” he starts, scratching the back of his neck. “I could stay and help you clean up.”

You look up at him and shake your head. “Oh, no no no, that won’t be necessary, you’ve helped enough already.”

“I don’t mind!” Peter insists, already moving to the kitchen and putting dishes in the sink. “With two of us, it shouldn’t take as long.”

Smiling, you move to the living area and begin to pick up the various toys and put them in a basket that the Reynolds’ keep for Dan. You and Peter make small talk as you work, and he’s right–it does go much faster than it would if it was just you. Sooner than you would have liked, the two of you are done cleaning, and you stand at the door together.

“It was really nice to meet you, Peter,” you say, smiling up at him. “And thank you so much for all of your help.”

“Anytime.” He grins. “The next time you babysit, I’ll be happy to come over again. The Reynolds’ know me, so I’m sure they don’t mind.”

Your heart drops–you weren’t planning on babysitting for Dan ever again–but flutters when you think about seeing Peter again. “Sounds good to me.” You smile.

Peter scratches the back of his neck. “So, um, could I, maybe, have your number? We could go see a movie sometime, or do something else, or…” He trails off, laughing as a blush comes over his cheeks. You’re blushing too.

“Sure,” you whisper, getting your phone out of your pocket. He smiles, and the two of you exchange numbers, before continuing your awkward stalemate by the door. He’s smiling adorably down at you, and you up at him. Neither of you want to leave quite yet.

Gathering your courage, you stand up on your toes and press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Bye, Peter.”

By now, he’s blushing madly. “Bye,” he whispers. You smile once more at him before shutting the door behind you. Leaning against it, you smile to yourself. There’s something about that boy.

Little do you know, he’s skipping back to his apartment, thinking the same thing.

((The ability to appreciate and evaluate human aesthetic is not determined by your sexuality))

I think how much people choose their future work because main character of series/films/books do sth. Like I wanna be psychologist because Hannibal Lecter is psychologist.