Summary: When you became an Avenger, you thought your past was buried deep enough to never resurface. But when your skills as a hunter of the supernatural are needed, you’re forced to reveal more about your former life.
Characters: Bucky Barnes, Dean Winchester, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Winchester
Warning: Mature 18+, angst, smut, crossover cringe, flashbacks, reader goes by a codename.
Bad writing means you took the time to write something, you, a real human being. It means you created something! And you have the awareness to see that there's room for improvement, too!!!
Bad writing is wonderful!!! Bad writing is a platform from which you can build your masterpiece! Bad writing is the backbone of good writing!
Give yourself permission to write badly. No, actually- give yourself permission to write something TERRIBLE. Give yourself permission to write such drivel that you can barely read it.
Nothing comes out a masterpiece the first time!! You think Isaac Asimov never wrote a total stinker he had to rebuild from the ground up? You think Jules Verne never wrote utter slop for a first draft?
WRITE SOMETHING AWFUL!!! Write something so bad you cringe about it years later!!! And then when that's done, write some more!!!!!
part 2 of ? | thor odinson | 4.6k words | angst, romantic relations (smut - 18+)
part 1 - frank castle
author's note: pls don't assume ai wrote this because of the sporadic emdashes - ai couldn't make this fic more cringe than i can. i'm aware not all fics can be winners, but here, mommy made you some content.
author's note #2: i was listening to 'A Year Without Rain' by Selena Gomez and was inspired by the lyric "Do you feel me? When I think about you." and this was the product.
White wine.
The only thing keeping you from losing your mind with each stop along the ride up to your floor is a nice, large glass of chilled white wine.
Your head is pounding. It was a long day at the office. “The office” being Avengers tower after an alien attack. Sam called you in a panic late this morning, begging you to get uptown as fast as you can to help heal your injured teammates.
Your energy was nearly drained dry by the time everyone affected was healed. Just as you were leaving, the sky opened up. Heavy drops of rain, lightening, thunder—the works. Your wet clothes cling to your body and loose tendrils of hair hang from the low bun at the nape of your neck.
The elevator dings, signaling that you’ve finally reached your destination. Your key turns in the lock and it gives too easily.
The door was already unlocked.
Your brows furrow.
No matter how frantic the call, you always lock your door.
Your jaw clenches and you brace yourself as you slowly, carefully enter the threshold.
Alpine chirps when she sees you, jumping down from the back of the couch and welcoming you by weaving between your legs. You nearly jump out of your skin when a six foot brunette pops his head out from the kitchen.
“Looks like you could use a drink.” Bucky grins, stirring whatever contents was in the skillet that he was tending to on the stove.
Your jaw clenches and the smile fades from Bucky’s features.
“What I could have used was a warning you were coming over.” The door slams behind you and you thumb through the notifications on your phone. “Not a voicemail, a missed call, not even a damn text message, Buck?”
He lowers his gaze, cowering under yours. “Sorry,” He tucks his hair behind his ear and smiles softly. “Your spare key was in the same spot, so I let myself in when I realized you weren’t home. I meant to call, but it slipped my mind when Alpine greeted me.”
Your expression softens slightly. You never were capable of staying angry with him for long. A fact you’re almost certain he’s aware of.
“Dinner is almost ready.” He declares. “Go get comfortable and I’ll have a glass waiting for you.”
You don’t have the energy to bite his head off about inviting himself into your home. Not when he was slaving over a hot stove preparing a meal for you after a hard day.
“Chardonnay is in the fridge. Make it a generous pour.” You call over your shoulder before disappearing behind your bedroom door.
Your clothes thud on the floor as you remove each garment. Goosebumps rise on your damp, exposed flesh and a chill runs down your spine as you hurriedly change into a dry t-shirt and sweatpants. Upon walking back into the kitchen, you take a long swig of the dry wine that goes down as easily as water.
Bucky twirls a fork around the pasta he’s been perfecting, offering a taste test. Lemon and garlic sauce over angel hair, your favorite. Your spirits are instantly lifted and you smile up at him. You set the glass down on the counter and wrap your arms around his torso, sighing softly when he returns the embrace.
“I had an overstimulating afternoon. Sorry for being a bitch.”
Bucky chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “You have an overstimulating life. You don’t owe me any apologies, especially when I’m the one encroaching upon your space.”
It dawns on you that he had returned from a two month long mission. You begin examining over him, lifting his shirt to look for injuries.
“Trying to get me out of my clothes? I thought we called that quits a long time ago.” He taunts, dodging a slap to the arm. “I’m okay. Walked away mostly unscathed.”
“Mostly.” You repeat, tilting his jaw and getting a better look at the cuts on his right cheek. Deeming that he doesn’t need any medical attention, you grab your glass and make your way to the couch. A brown leather duffle bag on the floor nearly makes you loose your balance. You look at Bucky with a raised brow.
“I know it was a long trip and all, but did you forget that you don’t live here anymore?”
Bucky scratches the back of his neck and smiles sheepishly. “I—uh, accidentally sublet my apartment for little longer than I needed.”
Your eyes close and you exhale through your nose, coming to terms that he’s hinting he needs a place to stay. “How much longer?”
“…Two months.” He mutters.
“Two months?!” You repeat, dumbfounded. “You only moved out a year ago, Buck. I don’t know if it’s smart to stay under the same roof for that long…”
“I know it’s a lot to ask. If it doesn’t work out, if you get to the point that you wanna ring my neck, I’ll make other arrangements. But I bet Alpine would really appreciate If you let us stay.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “That’s a low blow. Don’t bring our daughter into the middle of this.” You shake your head, scratching under Alpine’s chin, making her purr softly. “You’re sleeping on the couch. If you enter my room without knocking even one time, your ass is out.”
“Understood.” Bucky nods and brings two plates over to join you on the sofa. “And as a thank you, dinner is served.”
It’s a sleepless night.
For you, anyway.
Rain pounds harshly against the windows as flashes of lightening illuminate your bedroom. With each loud clap of thunder, you toss and turn until you’re wrapped up in the bedsheets. Sweat sticks to your skin as you grow warmer and the temperature in the apartment rises. The electricity went out an hour ago and you rely on the central air to combat the evening spring heat.
What’s worse is that you can hear the fact that Bucky is blissfully unaware of the torment you’re enduring. He snores with each intake of breath as his mind is completely shut off to the outside world of whatever he’s dreaming about.
Lucky bastard.
You kick off your sweatpants and throw your shirt to the floor in hopes the lack of layers will cool you down, but it’s no use. There’s not even a cool side of the pillow anymore since you’re producing heat like a furnace.
With another flash of lightning, a memory flashes in the back of your mind.
Asgard in the summertime.
You had gotten word that Loki appeared home after years of Thor believing that he was dead after trying to take on Thanos. He'd sustained major injuries — If he hadn’t died when Thor originally thought, he was on the brink of it now.
Of course Thor thought about making the desperate call to ask you for help, but he decided against it. You had your own life and your own things going on in your universe. Last time either of you spoke was on a mission a couple years prior. The two of you didn’t have a close enough rapport for him to think that he could ask a favor this big of you. Which is why it surprised him when you had spontaneously arrived to lend aid to his brother.
“He’s critical. It’ll take time, but he’ll live. I’ll stay as long as I can to get him back on his feet, but when duty calls…”
“I understand.” Thor nodded, looking at you with gratitude. “I don’t know how to thank you. A gesture as grand as this deserves more than I can give, I’m afraid.”
You shrugged and shook your head. “A nice place to stay with a spectacular view will suffice.” You crossed your arms and grinned up at him. “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have an ulterior motive to come all this way and treat it like a vacation. I haven’t traveled in what feels like centuries. Your brother is brought back to health and I get to visit a place I’ve never been before. Win, win.”
Your honesty made him chuckle. He couldn't recall the last time he'd felt lighthearted enough to find amusement.
“You’ll stay here in the palace. You may choose whichever room you please. I’ll see to it that you’re well taken care of.”
Thor escorted you around after you finished your first round of treatment for Loki. He was like a tour guide, explaining the pros and cons of each one of the living quarters.
“This one has a perfect view of the sunrise, if you enjoy rising at 4am.”
He told you.
“Freyr stayed in this room once, but fair warning, every woman who has stayed here thereafter has welcomed an infant. He says it’s coincidence, I say that’s horse shite. I saw the way he left it in there after his departure.”
You scrunched your nose at the imagery and continued to follow him throughout the corridors.
“Woah,” You gaped with wide eyes and a slacked jaw as you entered the threshold of the seventeenth room out of—you can’t even imagine how many more there could be.
Golden rays of the setting sun beamed brilliantly on the marble floor through large openings in the concrete walls. Dark blue drapery hung f above the bed, wrapped around the sturdy wooden posts of the canopy.
“I think this is the most inviting bed I’ve seen in any of my days.” You brushed your hand along the satin sheets and perfectly fluffed pillows.
“Is this the one to your liking?” He asked, watching you step out onto the vast balcony.
You looked out upon the beachside view, the sound of sea washing the shore temporarily soothed your worries away.
“I believe we have a winner.” You declared, sprawling out on the bed and stretching your limbs.
“Then you are welcome here for as long as you desire. It so happens that only other room on this floor is my own, down the hall. So I will be the one to cater to your needs.”
“I’ll try not to need too much.” You sighed contently.
“That may be, but you may have anything you want.”
You tried to look past the fact that Thor’s voice made a shiver surge through your being. There was a tone that wasn’t there before. One that lingered even after he left you to relax for the rest of the evening.
He kept true to his word. Anything you asked for, he retrieved. Every request was met shortly after you voiced it, from extra pillows for the bed, to gourmet grilled cheese at two in the morning when the craving hit.
“Are you this attentive to all of your guests?” You asked, licking the buttery crumbs from the corner of your mouth after taking the last bite of the sandwich he prepared for you.
“No.” Thor said over his shoulder, drying his hands on a nearby dish towel after cleaning up the kitchen. “You’re the first visitor I’ve had the pleasure of hosting.”
He tried to keep the mood light by adding a forced smile, but you saw through him. He was lonely. You recognized the signs because you spent your time trying to mask your own loneliness.
You were restless at night.
Even silk sheets, ocean breeze, and the sound of waves crashing over the shore weren’t enough to lull you to sleep. Your mind was the most active in the earliest hours of the morning. As if on the dot each day, you woke up around three o’clock, thoughts racing at a mile a minute.
One early morning, the second week into your stay, you grew tired of tossing and turning. You allowed your mind to drift while your feet lead you through the corridors, down the stairs, and outside where you were welcomed by a floral scent.
You continued to follow it.
Bare feet on prickly grass. Your nightgown billowing in the warm summer air as you neared the source of the delightful smell. Your vision adjusted to see one of the most stunning gardens you’d ever laid eyes on. Rows of marigolds, petunias, and dahlias all varying in color. Shrubs beautifully sculpted in different shapes and sizes.
“Sleep walking?” Thor’s voice asked softly as he came to stand beside you.
“Half-asleep walking.” You corrected. “Too much going on in my head. No matter how much I try to relax and get some rest, my brain just keeps going and going and going…” You shrugged and continued on the path further into the garden. “Did I wake you?”
He followed beside.
“Yes, but I don’t mind. That window,” He pointed behind to a large gape in the palace wall. “Is to my bedroom. I heard someone outside, saw it was you, here we are.”
“Either you’re a light sleeper or I need to work on my stealth skills.”
He didn’t reply, but you felt him watching you as you leaned down to inhale the fresh florals.
“This is my favorite place in all of the kingdom.” He told you. “It’s calm. Peaceful.”
“Kings and warriors see very little of that, I’d imagine.”
Thor hummed in agreement.
As you moved to take a step forward, you’re stopped by a large hand around your wrist. Calloused, but gentle. You looked back at him, but he wouldn’t meet your gaze. He looked at the ground, searching for the words he wanted to say.
“I can feel when you think about me.” He confessed shyly. His brows furrowed and he shook his head. “I don’t know how or why. That’s how I knew where to find you. How you woke me.”
He kept his head bowed, unable to allow you to read his expression. He was unsure. Unnerved by why he was able to sense this from you.
You were intrigued.
You didn’t shy away from his touch. Instead you lessened the distance between your body and his.
“What does it feel like?”
“What?” His eyes finally met yours.
You took one step closer.
“When I think about you. What does it feel like?” You repeated, noticing the goosebumps that rose on Thor’s arms from your breathy tone.
It caught him off guard. He was certain that you would react negatively to the admission. He hadn’t even considered that you would be curious about it.
“Um—I,” He stammered, trying to put it into words. “It feels like my lungs are on fire. My head rushes, muscles ache, I can feel electricity run through my veins.”
“How did you come to the conclusion that me thinking of you is the reason you feel these things?”
“Do you deny it?”
It was your turn to be caught off guard.
“What?”
“Do you deny that you’ve thought about me?”
The flush of your skin gave you away. You remained silent, but shook your head, seeing no point in lying when he’d been honest with you.
“Some things you just know.” He told you.
A booming clap of thunder wakes you from the momentary dream world you entered.
“Goddammit!” You grunt in frustration as you roll over. A flash of lightening cracks across the sky, illuminating your bedroom just enough to make out a statuesque figure standing in front of the windows.
You’re not alarmed.
You don’t scramble for the knife you keep at your bedside. You don’t yell for Bucky, though you’re sure he could probably continue sleeping through the building being bulldozed.
You run a hand through your damp hair and sit up on the bed. The figure remains still. He won’t move closer until you express permission.
“Well don’t just stand in the shadows like a creep, come over here.”
For a man of his size, his footsteps are feather light. He’s hesitant, but he takes a seat at the far end of the bed. Keeping distance.
Your eyes adjust to the best of their ability, but it’s hard to see his face. He wears civilian clothes. Jeans and a t-shirt. It’s always strange to see him look normal.
“Is something wrong?”
He shakes his head.
For a second you contemplate moving closer, but decide against it.
“What are you doing here?”
He keeps his hands at his sides and his head bowed to not meet your stare.
“You were thinking about me.” He says.
“In these conditions,” You gesture to the storm continuing to rage outside. “I highly doubt I’m the only one thinking about you.”
The lighthearted teasing makes him crack a smile. He finally chances a look at you.
“True. But you’re the only one that I can feel think about me.”
It’s not often that someone makes you blush. In this moment you’re thankful for the blackout to keep it hidden.
“Still a mystery as to why that is?” You raise a brow.
“Yep.”
“Haven’t had it happen with anyone else?”
“Nope.”
He never was able to explain why this phenomenon only happened with you. No Asgardian lore. No one else that he knows of that has experienced something similar to this bond you share.
“What were you thinking about?” He couldn’t help himself but to ask.
You roll your eyes and smirk.
“I have a feeling that you already know.”
His body relaxes when he picks up on the playfulness of your tone. He lays his back on the mattress and looks up at the ceiling.
“I did come all this way to visit…” He lulls his head to the side to look up at you.
“Let me get this straight,” You move to lay on your stomach, kicking your feet back and forth casually. “You came here because you wanted to hear that I was reminiscing about our time in the garden?”
“A fond memory.” Thor sighs, a goofy grin plastered on his face.
“You showed up just as I was getting to the good part.”
There’s a glimmer in his half-lidded eyes as he looks at you. You don’t have to read his mind to know what he’s thinking. You have to push the thought from your mind as it is.
“We’re not the only ones here, you know.” You try to deter him.
As if on cue, Bucky emits a sound that resembles a chainsaw kickstarting from the living room.
“I doubt Barnes will even know that I’m here.” Thor remarks. “Even so,” He pauses as a low rumble of thunder rolls through. “I can conceal any noise you make with ease.”
Damn him and the effect his words have on you.
Damn the way your body craves whatever he’s willing to give.
He senses your hesitation and his features soften.
“I don’t mean to overstep. I apologize if I’ve made you uncomfortable—“
“You didn’t,” You shake your head. “It’s just—God, it sounds stupid to say it out loud.”
Thor mirrors your position when you move to sit upright.
“I wouldn’t think anything you say is stupid.” He assures you.
You inhale deeply through your nose and close your eyes, too self-conscious to face him.
“I’m not having…relations…with friends anymore. I’ve lost too many people I care about. I don’t need to complicate my life anymore than it already is by giving into a moment of impulsive weakness.”
There’s a feeling of warmth on your knee that makes you open your eyes. Thor’s large hand rests there and he offers a small, comforting smile.
“I understand. Your reasoning is certainly not senseless. I can’t truthfully deny that intimacy hasn’t cost me friendships, as well.” He admits. “Simply being in your presence is a gift.”
His words provide comfort to your sheepish mind. When you finally meet his eyes, you have to stop yourself from melting. His cerulean orbs resemble windows overlooking a calm sea. You act without thinking, leaning over and placing a kiss on his cheek, just above his neatly groomed beard.
It’s innocent enough.
A sweet gesture to express your gratitude. An expression of pure, platonic affection.
Until you find yourself lingering in close proximity. Inhaling his scent — bergamot and rain with a hint of jasmine. Like he had come from the palace garden from your memory.
It’s borderline intoxicating.
Neither of you make an effort to separate further. He notices you staring at his lips as your tongue flicks over your own.
Fucking hell, you scold yourself internally. Have you no self control? Is your willpower truly nonexistent?
“It’s not the easiest endeavor.” You feign a chuckle and force yourself to add a few inches of distance. “Sorry. I don’t mean to give mixed signals.”
Thor clears his throat and shakes himself from the trance he’d also found himself in. “As your friend, you have my support.” He starts before trailing off as a soft blush burns his flesh. “I think I can attest for just about everyone you cross paths with; it’s no easy feat to resist you.”
His vulnerability stuns you.
And your body begins to betray you as you feel an ache contract in your core. The all too familiar sensation of blood rushing to your brain, clouding your judgement, blurring the lines you’re trying to stay between.
“Tell me to go.” It’s a plea, not a command. You blink up at him as he rises to his feet. “I’ll always respect your wish. I just need to hear you say it. Otherwise, I fear I’m not strong enough to leave on my own.”
You’re dripping.
Absolutely weeping with want.
“Don’t go.” You breathe out. He still towers over you when you kneel on the mattress. “I mean, we’ve done this once before and still remained friends after all this time, right?”
Of course, the question is rhetorical. Instead of answering, Thor closes the space between your bodies, letting his hands roam over your arms, your back, your hips, any and every bit of you he can touch with your pesky pajamas in the way.
“You’re sure?” He asks, resting his forehead against yours, carding his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck.
You wish you had his self-restraint.
“Yes.” You nod, pulling him on top of you, desperate to feel his weight and warmth. “You did come all this way to visit…” You imitate him from earlier. “Least I can do is make you cum before going back.”
A flash of white lightening makes you gasp as he grips your waist and moves onto his back, rolling like thunder under the covers. Fast hands make away with the frustrating fabric of clothing until you’re both bare to one another. Thor pulls you close, muffling your sounds with his mouth as he swiftly sheaths his cock.
You can’t believe you were trying to deny yourself of this pleasure.
Tried to convince yourself to suppress your salacious and satyric side.
Your hands keep you steady on top of him, splaying over his pectorals, feeling his heart thump beneath your right palm. The pace starts slow. Teasing. A preview of your abilities. As if the man — the God beneath you isn’t already a complete mess.
“You feel like heaven, you know that?” Thor sighs, the air hitching in his windpipe when you quicken the tempo of your thrusts. “A true Goddess.”
He’s said this once before. Years ago. The last time he was buried inside of you. When sweat and dirt coated his tanned skin and the hard ground made your knees ache. When neither of you could stand the thought of the short trek back inside of the palace, so you stayed in the garden. Surrounded by the scent of the flowers, wreathed in bliss as the sun began to rise in the east.
You rode on top of him then just as you are now. His hands guide you in the same way, pulling your hips down and easing you back as he meets your thrusts.
Thor covers your mouth with one hand while the other cradles the back of your head gently when you begin to come undone. A long rumble of thunder conceals his own sounds as he releases right after you.
Thor spends the night and departs at daybreak.
A chaste kiss to your lips and one that lingers on your temple. “Until next time, sweet Angel.”
After he’s gone, you’re left to wage the war going on inside your mind. You strip the bed to wash the sheets, walk out of your bedroom to find Bucky still passed out, nearly falling off the couch from his choice of position, and Alpine stretching as she wakes up from her own cat nap.
You scratch her head as you pass and she immediately begins to purr.
After loading the washing machine, you decide you need some fresh air. The skies are completely clear this morning. Not a single cloud looming. A complete contrast to the weather the day before.
‘Coffee? My treat?’ You send to Yelena.
She responds with a heart to the message. ‘Meet you there in 30.’
You wash your face and brush your teeth, pull on some comfortably warm clothes to guard against the chill in the air, and leave a note for Bucky on the coffee table, promising to return with breakfast.
“To what do I owe this treat?” Yelena chimes from behind, taking the seat across from you at the small patio table outside of the bakery. She takes a sip of the beverage you ordered for her and takes a good look at you. “You okay?” She chuckles, taking in your appearance. “Did you even sleep last night?”
You knew you should have grabbed your sunglasses to hide the circles under your tired eyes.
“I had an unexpected visitor show up at my apartment. Actually, two unexpected visitors.” Yelena raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to elaborate. “Bucky’s gonna be crashing at my place for the next two months.”
“Woah.” Her eyes widen. “That’s… Didn’t he just move out?”
“It’s a whole thing.” You sigh. “Thor stopped by, too.”
A smirk stretches across Yelena’s face and she nods knowingly. “And are we sore from our visit with Thor?” It takes her a moment before it clicks. “Wait, you—with Bucky in the next room?”
“He might as well have been dead to the world, he was sleeping so hard. He didn’t hear anything. Doesn’t even know he was there.” You defend yourself. “I tried, okay? I tried really damn hard not to give into temptation, but…”
“You’re putting way too much pressure on yourself about this whole thing.” Yelena shakes her head. “I get it, your intentions are good, I know you don’t want to jeopardize friendships, but it’s not worth stressing out this much. We all have our vices. You shouldn’t have to deprive yourself of something that gives you a boost of serotonin. If a relationship ends, it’s because it’s run its course. Not everything is meant to last forever.”
“Wow,” you tilt your head. “That’s pretty profound.”
Yelena scoffs in faux offense. “I can be deep.”
You crack a smile and nudge her foot with yours. “Thanks. I needed to hear that.”
Yelena’s phone goes off, signaling an email. She rolls her eyes and slumps her shoulders. “Duty calls. I’ll check in with you later. Thanks for the coffee.”
“Good luck on the job.” You wave.
“Good luck with Bucky!” She calls back over her shoulder.
“Thanks,” You grab your drink and the paper bag of pastries you’d ordered before Yelena arrived. “I’ll need it.”
feel free to leave a comment or a reblog to let me know how you're enjoying the story so far! lots more drama and romantic relations to come ✨
origamiaround
jbbartram-illu
germansingergirl
vaporwave
baratheonpilled
