Hey! So I got into the Avengers fandom, and guess what I wrote? ... That's right! It's a Fem!Steve/Loki story. I don't know why I like it so much, I just do. XDD I think it has something to do with gender swapping Steve instead of Loki that makes it so entertaining because it sort of gives people an opportunity to think about how Loki would interact with a woman he actually likes (Or at least has an interest in. I mean, you never know with that guy!).
The way that it's written, is supposed to be like reading the middle of a larger story. It may sound confusing, but I actually like this type of writing, especially for shorter stories or dabbles. It conveys a sort of vagueness that keeps a reader focused 'til the very end, ya know?
Also, please note that the italicized sentences are meant to be flashbacks, that is why the tense suddenly changes! Please do not tell me that I'm using the wrong tense, because I'm not!
I'd like to thank my beta, Curlscat, for betaing this story! Love Ya Kat!
Thank you and enjoy!
Reflections of the Ashamed
Summary: She shifts in her sheets as unwanted thoughts bubble into her mind. Tossing and turning as visions from days prior flash behind her eyelids. The color of forests in the middle of spring danced in front of her. So green, and lively.
Rating: Teen
Warning: Implied sex, and a whole lot of self-deprecation.
She shifts in her sheets as unwanted thoughts bubble into her mind, tossing and turning as visions from days prior flash behind her eyelids.
The color of forests in the middle of spring danced in front of her.
So green, and lively.
She scrunches her closed eyes even tighter and clutches her blonde locks in an attempt to make the memories disappear.
A flicker of gold.
A glint of white from a dangerous turn of the lips.
It doesn't work.
With a frustrated sigh she tosses the sheets aside. Long legs swing over the edge as the blonde sits up. Delicate-looking yet calloused hands rub blue eyes. She looks up and another sigh escapes her lips.
A tired figure looks back at her. Curly golden locks, askew in every direction, hints of a purplish tone under her eyes, fatigue eating at all her curved features, and the shine in her sky blue eyes gone without a trace. A perfect picture of stress and neglect. All caused by one thing that pierces her every thought and dream like needles, until everything goes numb, and the sun is on the horizon and she realizes that another peaceful night of sleep has evaded her grasp.
She does not have insomnia. The serum coursing through her veins will not allow such a thing. She is a soldier. She needs sleep. Out like a light once her body says to go to bed. Awake and aware as soon as the clock tells her she's had enough.
She has to be the perfect soldier, so she does not have insomnia.
A wicked grin.
A cold, slender hand.
Though sometimes, she wishes she did.
The blonde stands. Walking is more of a drug than a habit as of late. It clears her head of so many things, each step taking her mind to other, perhaps even nicer places. However, she can't really go anywhere. The city, though still bright, is too quiet.
Too early to be out and about. So she paces the room.
Back and forth.
Back and forth.
A gentle caress.
A breathless, unconscious moan.
Back and forth.
This goes on 'til the mirror beckons her to stop. With a trembling hand, she reaches out. For what, she hasn't any clue.
She strokes the glass, hiding a mark she knows is there.
A mark she hides under her uniform and clothes. Away from the ones she calls her comrades, her brothers (and sister respectively) in arms, her friends.
She can only hide it from them for so long. Someone will notice. She'll have to answer. Answer those burning questions that everyone must know.
A dark chuckle.
A well-placed kiss.
The blonde moves her fingers from the mirror, her mark on display.
She feels the familiar sensation of shame building up. She looks down at her shaking hands gripping the vanity with a force that is leaving dents in the wood.
She is disgusted, repulsed, ashamed, humiliated, abused, dishonored, hurt, and confused. It's all in the mark and in her blue eyes.
Silky raven hair.
She feels all of these things.
A quirked brow.
Every one of them and more.
A voice asked if she wants more.
She feels these things because…
Another, much like her own, practically begging "yes".
She liked it.
A pair of piercing and playful green eyes widened with excitement.
She's still shaking as she dares to look at her reflection once again.
Green eyes and a dangerous smirk greet her in the mirror. She gasps loudly, preparing to whirl around and confront the shadow that dares intrude on her.
A pale and slender hand wraps around her waist and grips tightly before she has the chance, back touching an armored chest. It's so nice and cold. Another hand gently holds her chin. The blonde's arms fail her under his touch.
She is forced to look into the reflection. A reflection of horrible shame.
Green eyes lean closer.
Cold lips barely graze her skin.
A hushed whisper that causes her spine to shudder and her voice to gasp.
"Why hello, my darling Captain. Miss me?"