#Puts him in the microwave and slams the door shut leaving him in there forever

[harpoonsnotspoons]

Fucking freak...

[sweetsbfreex]

lethologica

when you can’t think of the word for something...like this fic </3

Summary: Harry’s family navigating his impending fame, and the activity of reader and harry making their first belly cast

Warnings: fluff, slight angst?

Pairing: Husband, Dad!Harry x reader 

“Hey! We’re back!” you yelled out, Harry following closely behind you as he shut the door,  carefully slipping off your sneakers. It was pretty late at least for the two of you now. The sun was away, you and H coming back from your well deserved date night. 

At the familiar sound of the slamming door came the different steps of your kids. Shuffling down the steps from your view you could see the face of your oldest ahead of the covey, bolting towards the two of you. The various sounds of ‘mom’,’mummy’, and ‘dad’ spoken out. 

“You guys took forever” Sydnie; seventeen, was the first to say, exasperated as she latched onto you. But was quickly shuffled away by the twins. “Bloo” the seven year old was born a Penelope, but after watching her favorite show Winx Club when she was three. Demanded she be called after her favorite character Bloom, but couldn’t pronounce the name all the way through. If you had called her by official name she wouldn’t respond, going on about her day as if no one was there. And it had stuck since then, forever the stubborn one only to grow into a sweet, shy little girl.

 And Alec, fraternal twins who had just turned seven.

“Careful babies the baby, remember” Harry lightly reminded. With that reminder he had loosened his secure hold.

“Well sorry” you teased, kissing all their forehead quickly “But we bought you guys some food too” you reported, holding up the labeled bag.

They responded with excited statements, as Sydnie took the bag from your hold, running to the kitchen with her siblings. 

“My hugs!” Harry yelled out, hands cupping his mouth then putting his brawny arms out like a plane awaiting their bodies to clash into his. “ought to take away your allowance for that one” Harry teases, fingers stretching out to tickle anywhere they could. 

As a result he got a lively mix of groans, laughs, and pleas.

“Joking” Harry says abruptly, kissing each of their cheeks before conducting all of you to the kitchen, assisting the twins into their own seatings at the kitchen. The light above all of you illuminating the room.

Embarrassingly enough it had been when you were pulling the plastic containers from the brown bag that you realized you were missing a kid. 

“Where’s your brother?” you asked, opening Bloo’s Spaghetti and spreading it on the white plate.

“Talking to his girlfriend” Sydnie air quoted, rolling her father-like eyes.

“Why do you say it like that?” Harry asked, wonderingly his back turned, reaching for the Placemats, setting them in front of each child. Placing one in front of an empty stool for Chase. 

“Daddy, he’s delusional! I’ve told him a million times. She found out his last name, connected the dots, and now she’s interested. I would know it’s happened to me hundreds of times since middle school” she said indignantly.

Finishing the last plate up, from the side of your eyes you could see and sense his deflation at the statement. Always overthinking about their last names and what it would entail as they grow up with Harry Styles as their father. His top five worry ever since the first time you were pregnant. His breaking point, however, had been when Sydnie came home, furious. From a day from school finding out that some girl in her class had tried getting closer to her with ill intentions. 

He could also sense the worry that washed over you, catching your eye to let you know he was fine. 

“He’s old enough to know better. He’ll be fine Syd,” you let her know, reaching your hand to fix the hoodie that overshadowed her precious face.

“I wasn’t, it sucks and he’s not taking me seriously”

“Cause you’re full of it” shifting your eyes to the doorway, the sixteen-year-old walked in towards you. His arm over your shoulders before placing a kiss to your cheek. Then making his way to his dad, who had pulled him in setting a kiss to his temple. 

“You say that but just you wait!” she walked over to him quickly, flicking his the back of his head, shifting her way over to the fridge before he could retaliate. Pulling out a drink and some cups for everyone else, almost bustling into you, as you made your way to the microwave.

“Don’t wish that on your brother” Harry persisted.

“I’m not, but he better not come crying to me”

"Whatever” he paid her no mind, shifting the conversation to his parents. “How was your date?” he asked, setting himself at the island. 

“‘Was fine we went to the arcade, I beat mum’s butt––”

“He’s lying, I beat him at air hockey”

“Just air hockey mum?” Bloo asked, a slight lisp from her missing front teeth. Her attention strayed away while Sydnie placed her cup in front of her, filling it with juice.

“Sadly” you mimicked a pout, Harry smiling with a smug grin. 

“Then went to dinner. Guess what” he exclaimed, directing his energy towards Alec”

“Mummy looked so pretty tonight, some chum couldn’t stop eyeing her. So I had to give him a knuckle” he told the story, raising his fist and mirthfully brought it to Alec’s stomach. Eliciting giggles from his which bounced off to Bloo. The rest of you with gratified smiles at the meaningful interaction. 

“Why are you such a fibber tonight” you urged Harry, smacking his shoulder. 

“I’m not lying” he said, walking to you till he was hovering over your back, trying to annoy you with his insistent cheek kisses.

“Go away” you whined, faking your displeasure, shrugging your shoulders. The kids could note your slight smile except for him.

“Go away” he mocked.

“We all know you wouldn’t hurt a fly” Chase pointed out correctly. Thanking you as you set his plate of food in front of him. 

Harry stood across the herd,resting back against the quartz countertop, arms crossed. Until you cuddled yourself into his side. His arm reaching down so his thumb could rub against the side of your belly. Your arms encircled around his waist, head on his chest.

“Not true” he replied. 

“It’s okay, it’s why I married you” you sweetly said with a smile adoring your face. He could only look down at you with a close lipped smile reflecting yours, his dimple digging deep. Leaning down to kiss you, filling you up with his love for you. 

Both of you had pulled away abruptly from the range of disgusted protests and a slam of an utensil. All except for sweet, shy Bloo. Who had watched with a smile on her face idolizing the love of her parents, swearing it was like the Disney movies. Like her favorite Princess and the Frog.

“We’re trying to eat!” Chase had said dramatically, pasta in his mouth. Sydnie covers her eyes with both hands, while Alec stuck out his tongue finger to his mouth. 

“None of you would be here, if it wasn’t for this” you emphasized, your finger waving between you and H. 

“No duh, you both won’t stop having children” Sydnie overstated, shuddering stagy. 

- 

It was late now, all of you stayed downstairs, more overdue than intended. The twins went down an hour early before the other two. Chase and Sydnie finished their meals for the night and instead of leaving, stayed up talking to their parents.

In your sleep shorts and a light weight tank top, your hands were in Harry’s who was massaging them softly. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” you asked feebly, peeking up at the overly focused man. 

“We’ve had this conversation a handful of times, don’t see why we need to have it again” he replied, glancing at you quickly.

“I know, but it might make you feel a little better” you tried again not wanting to push him too far. 

“I–It’s just” he had to stop for a minute, his throat closing up too much to even speak clearly. You propped yourself up against the headboard, your lower back aching a little bit, adjusting Harry so his red tainted face was laid on your shoulder. 

You could only coo at him, kissing his forehead, while your hand ran laxly on the side of his face. Your fingers brushing against the slight scruff against his cheek. Before moving your arm so your hand could massage his scalp at the back of his neck. Letting your fingers run through his lengthy hair at the same time. Your other arm reaches over to pluck a piece of tissue from the box, wiping under his nose softly. 

“Just want them to have a normal life like you and me, it isn’t fair to them that they’ve got to deal with shit like this constantly because of me”

“Baby don’t say that, regardless of it all they’d still have to go through life meeting awful people”

“It isn’t the same y/n, with people like them they know the reason is because of their stupid last name.”

“H” you start sternly, rocking the both of you slowly “Don’t say stuff like that, you think if they had to choose you wouldn’t be their dad? They cherish you so much. I know it sucks I do, but you’re an amazing dad, there’s no one better for them. They would never hold something like that against you, they love you too much to”

“You’re a brilliant mum too. I’m sorry”

“You don’t need to apologize baby” You stopped rocking the two of you slowly, smiling down at him only to see: glossy somber eyes, a subtle simper, and a hiccuping chest.  

-

“Stomachs getting bigger” he stated, his hand rubbing against your stomach absentmindedly.

“Thank you baby, just what every girl wants to hear” 

“No! Not like that beautiful. Just meant now people can see your pregnant again”

“I’m teasing H, I promise the hormones haven’t kicked in yet.”

“Finally get to sleep with ur boobs in front of me every night” He said smugly, naturally looking at you for his favourable reaction.

“You’re such a child” you return, pinching his arm lightly “You wouldn’t want to put it in the nursery?” you ask.

“Wherever you want angel”

That radiant morning led you to now, an impromptu family trip to Target, the kids getting whatever their hearts desired–– to an extent–– while you and Harry stood here astonished by the arrays of different casting kits. 

You raise your conjoined hands to point your finger at a baby blue box.

“That one? Genie told me that’s the one she bought” you queried.

He inspected it, twisting the box practically reading every word, before turning to look at the ingredients. 

“H you probably don’t know what half of those things are”

He shrugged his shoulder in response, looking at the box one last time. “Sure it was this one?” 

“Positive”

You were both meant to go find the kids until they had bustled around the corner, Chase pushing the loaded cart while everyone walked ahead. At the view of his parents. Alec had run ahead towards the two of you a motor car in his hand. 

“Mummy! Daddy! May I get this please?” he asked, raising the toy above his head. 

“Can I get this too please?” Bloo asked quietly, a lego set sat up in her palms.

“You guys were meant to keep them away from the toys” Harry told the older two. Knowing this would just add to their continual influx of toys. “Yes you guys can, go ahead and put it in the cart”

Alec had done his little dance, skipping his way back to the cart while Bloo walked herself carefully. Placing her set down as low as she could without causing any noise or crushing anything else. 

“You both get everything you need?” you asked, following after the twins along with Harry, placing the kit into the cart. 

You looked down at everything noticing some groceries, a few skincare items, a book, something for their rooms, and other things you couldn’t find that laid underneath everything else.  

“Yep, ready to leave when you are” Sydnie had responded.

“Okay let’s head out, Styles” Harry exclaimed, as low as he could, to not disrupt anyone else, Clapping his ringed hands together once.

“Dude, you’re such a dad” Chase quipped.

“Almost like I’ve been raising kids for seventeen years huh?” He jested back, eyes opening wide in faux disbelief, traveling to bother Chase some more. 

Giggling at the two, you looked down when you felt a body pressing into your leg. Familiar arms around your thigh. A distraught Bloo, looking up at you, her chin resting against your thigh.

“What is it, baby?” you asked, softly, tuning out the rest of your family.

“There’s a lady over there. She keeps looking at us” she informed you, pointing her dainty finger discreetly as she could to the woman at the end of the aisle. 

Being only seven the twins had a mutual understanding on why their dad had to leave at times, but that decreased once more when you had fallen pregnant again. They understood all the rules. 

a) if anyone was ever following, acting suspiciously always let mum or dad know–– if dad was there, definitely dad. b) never talk back to the idiots with the bulky cameras. c) Be careful who you talk to and what you say, some people aren’t always what they may seem. 

“H” you called him over.

He walked over to the two of you, eyebrows elevated in question. His hand instinctively brushing over bloo’s hair.

“Uhm maybe we should send the kids to checkout” you tilted your head backward at the not so prudent woman with the shocked face. Her phone pointing towards the two of you. 

You undoubtedly saw the happiness of his face shift to one of vexation and frustration as he glanced quickly, shrewdly at the woman. He extended his hand out to rub your elbow soothingly, nodding wearily. 

He turned to the kids, masking his face as best as he could. “You guys go ahead and save a spot for us, me and your mum are gonna grab one last thing”

They didn’t care much, just wanting to get home as quickly as they could, Sydnie grabbing both of the twins’ hands. 

-

Harry had kindly walked up to the woman, a displayed smile on his face, asking her to delete whatever she had managed to collect. You watched the encounter from the side, rubbing your belly softly, filled with mild angst. 

She had apologized profusely (the embarrassment seeping in her voice), the kindness in Harry letting her know it was fine as long as he could watch her delete everything. 

From her camera roll, Harry could see a video still of before the kids came, when you and him were looking for a casting kit. And some other videos of the family loitering in the target section. 

He bid her a tight-lipped goodbye, after he kindly asked her again, though it was starting to run low, to go to her recently deleted–– he wasn’t the most tech savvy but he also wasn’t an idiot. Once that was ultimately done, he locked your hand into his. 

“Are you okay?” you asked, securing your other arm up to wind around his.

“Just tired of the bullshit...” he sighed. He was just happy that he was able to protect his family this time. 

You halt him swiftly; he looks back at you in confusion, until you lug him down for as much of a hug as you could. Feeling his shoulders sag in relaxation and his arms winding around your waist. 

-

You stood next to Harry, in front of one of the sinks, reading the instructions. 

“So we start with the lubricant first, use these...” holding up a roll of the plaster tape “dip them into warm water, and just putting them on” you informed Harry of your summary.

He nodded, his lip between his fingers as his eyes roamed over the paper once again. “I’ll go get you a chair, pee before we start” He yelled over his shoulder.

He walked back in, a wooden chair between his hands. Setting it to the floor gently, smiling at you to take a seat. Walking back to the sink,resting his hip against the packet of lubricant in his hand. 

You smiled back at him as you took your seat. Deeming it be fit to wear running shorts and a tank top. Harry only in a pair of his joggers. Surprisingly after four kids, this was your first time trying a belly cast and you were a bit nervous wanting it to look just as perfect as it could–– adding your husband being a precisionist into the mix there was no guessing how this would turn out. 

“Take off your top” Harry said smugly, bringing the white packet to his teeth– side eying you–– while he ripped it off. Turning to start the camera propped up on the counter. You insisted this had to be recorded as a little keepsake for the two of you. 

You could only roll your eyes, trying hard not to feed into his ego. But the heat rising from your neck reported him otherwise. Tucking your arms back in the arm holes and raising the shirt off your body. Your body is bare except for the shorts adorning your legs. 

Ogling at you like a caveman playfully at the sight of your boobs out and about, eliciting quick giggles from you. He walked up to you clasping your face between his palms, pressing your aglow cheeks together lightly–– the white, cold packet sitting against your left cheek lightly. Giving you three earnest kisses to your lips and leaning down in front of you, giving a peck to your belly button. 

He squeezed some of the lubricant onto his fingers, deciding to start under your belly. You hissed at the sudden coldness hitting your skin. 

“Okay?” he asked, eyes a bit wide and mouth slightly open.

“A little cold, but you can continue” you let him know. 

He got at it quickly, once he finished that area he stood up a bit getting the sides of your stomach coated. Once he had finished, you stood up looking in the mirror at the shine of your stomach. 

“Now for the fun part” clapping your palms together sitting back down, wistfully watching Harry wash his hands of the substance. He got the scissors cutting the strips of various sizes. Walking to you at times to make sure it fits properly. 

‘Wouldn’t it be easier if I was next to you’ you asked.

Only to be replied with ‘No reason to have you on your feet, if I can walk to you.’ He unquestionably is just a bag of sunshine and everything good in the world.

Filling the sink with warmish water and placing on gloves. Snapping it on dramatically as if he was a doctor in a drama series.  

“Dork”  

He walked over with the first strip in his hand, water dripping behind him as he stepped closer to you. You pulled out your phone quickly wanting to capture a cute picture of this. Right as he placed the first strip you snapped the image. The only thing being seen was your protruded belly and below, his hands placing the plaster tape to your stomach, and a small tuft of his hair from the top of the picture. 

He pulled away proudly, smiling down at his work, with his hands on his hips. “Look at that, looks perfect huh?”

“You’re doing good so far H” you confirmed.

-

It was only fifteen minutes later, half of your stomach–– and that wasn’t saying much.

“Baby it’s fine we’ll just sand it down” you tried to convince H for the last time, but he was stubborn as ever.

His mouth open in excessive concentration, puzzled brows pulled together as he removed the plaster for the fifth time. And from your point of view, you swore, he placed it back on the exact same spot.

“Just wait” he sighed, it wasn’t where he wanted it to be.

“Harry, we’re gonna be forever” you sighed, swaying your feet softly until one of them accidentally knocked into Harry’s leg. He looked down at you, eyes telling you to quit it. 

“See there, you big baby” he grumbled.

“You’ve set it back into the same spot!” you exclaimed.

“No I haven’t, you’re just impatient...sounded a little brit there” he hummed, turning his back to you as he grabbed another slip. 

“Shut up!” 

-

Then there was, naturally, the sudden interruption.

Bloo had stumbled into the bathroom, expressing out about something one of her brothers did when she stopped taking into account, trying to figure out what was wrong with her mum. 

She gasped, eyes wide at the greying stuff. “What’s wrong with mummy?” she asked, looking between the two of you. 

“Turning mummy into a mummy!” He screeched, holding up a plaster strip. 

She brought her hands up to her mouth eyes growing only wider, her lip already starting to tremble. 

“You and your stupid dad jokes” you pulled Bloo closer to you, turning her back to Harry flipping him off behind her head. 

“We’re just doing a cast, don’t worry baby. Remember that episode of Jessie when Ravi got that mask stuck on Luke’s face and ripped his eyebrows off” you explained, She laughed at the connection of the episode. 

“Kind of like that, but without the eyebrows and we’re just using my belly” bringing your thumb to brush her brows up and the corner of her mouth clean. God what were they doing down there.

“Ohh okay that makes more sense.” you smiled back at her. 

-

And Harry who had a bit too much fun when it came to the upper portion of the cast. Acting like Alec does when Paw patrol was on or when Sydnie when her dad allowed her his card to shop. Finding any reason to smooth down the cast with his wet hands. Or taking his time to cover your nipple, using his thumb to level it out. A haughty expression on his face growing the higher he got from your belly button. 

“You’re acting as if we don’t have sex or take showers together” you tell him, popping another goldfish into your mouth (But not the good ones, the disgusting wheat ones Harry urged you and everyone else in the house to eat instead.)

“As if you don’t act like this when I take off my shirt”

He got you there, looking up at you to see you were not going to give him the eye contact he wanted. Your lips closed tight.

He delicately planted the last strip over the top of one of your breasts. 

“Wait, it doesn’t look right” 

“Harry!”

“Just joking y/n, now we wait five minutes and we can pop this off, sand it, and decorate it however you want” he told you, smiling at the finished product, leaning down to kiss your forehead then your lips.

“Wanna do it like this” you twisted your phone around to show him the image on Pinterest. A light blue belly cast, but you wanted it a pretty purple color, that was held against a frame, with butterflies of surveying sizes going across/diagonally the cast.

“However you want lovie” he told you again, pulling your head to his stomach, leaning down to kiss your head. Your arms winding across his waist.

“Thank you” you hummed in satisfaction. 

– – – – – 

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

thank you to the anon who requested this!

[plush-rabbit]

We’ll Be Okay

Word Count: 2.6

A/N: Broski,,, I've literally been sitting on this idea for such a long time you have no idea

In all your years of living, you never thought you'd enjoy living in Devildom and living with demons- and not just any old, run of the mill ones either- the ones who held status and made people cower with a glance and want to themselves at them and saw it as an opportunity and gift. You grew to love the demons who fell from the Celestial Realm and who became the Avatars of the Seven Sins.

They were feared. They garnered respect just because of who they were. They were powerful and imposing- even the so called weakest one could wipe out humanity if given the chance. But they were also dorky and teased each other often. They were nervous and held insecurities in their iron grip. You were able to stand up to them in times where you felt like you would have collapsed onto your knees. You've been in hell and felt like hell in certain times but the good outweighed the bad. They were ironically, the good in this quite literal hellish place.

You never thought that you would have become attached to them, never thought that you would seek out the comfort from the demons, snuggle next to them and have your face peppered with kisses and hands held. You never thought they would become attached to you, holding your hand in the late of nights, fighting over to dance with you during a ball. When you first arrived you were in shock and couldn’t utter a sentence without trembling or tripping over your words, but now, you consider them as family- you speak freely to them and joke around.

You love them, you'd do anything for them. They're your family. But all good things must come to an end. Your year here is almost up, the exchange program is almost over in a few months and you'll return back home. You won't have the brothers around to pull you into their antics, you won't have the angels who hold too polite of smiles and hand you tasty sweets in cute little boxes. You won't have the sorcerer come in and tease you, having his magic dance around you in an attempt to make you smile and a slight smirk when a brother notices and pulls a frown. You won’t have a Prince who smiles brightly and speaks earnestly and a butler who holds so much power and poise.

You're going to go home and all of this is going to become a memory. You won't live in it, you won't wake up and have to rush down to the table before your food is all gone. You won't have someone read to you or go into depth about the latest show. You won't be pulled into snuggles, won't have a self care day, you won't be scolded or fretted over. You won't have your stuff gone through and have someone be your protector.

None of them want to admit that you're leaving. Lucifer stating it during breakfast and you nodding your head, the weight of the words hitting you like a ton of bricks. You knew the day was- is coming. But you could never expect that it would hold so much weight and power over you and your emotions- that one single date could make your stomach churn and heart ache. The other brothers ignore the words- ignore the warning- and they wave off the words and take you shopping or eating or watching something- anything as long as they get to forget that you're leaving. They get stuck to you like glue, just wanting you near them even if all you do is sit in silence or listen to them tell a story. You get to pretend that you aren't leaving- that the upcoming date is still far away and will never come up. But it does and it will. And the time to tell a certain demon how you truly feel is ticking closer to zero.

You've fallen in love with one of them. Become smitten with a literal demon with the horns and wings and fangs and all. Someone so greedy that he wanted and craved all. A demon who self proclaimed that he's your first and that you're his human. Who became so greedy for your attention and love and confided that you were the only one to ever treat him with love and praise without anything else icky and mean laced in your words and touch. Who held strong feelings towards you but when teased about it would deny and stutter and only be teased further. 

And now you lay in bed next to him- your favorite one but you can never say those words aloud lest you want to witness a fight and petty comments- while you listen to your playlist in silence. 

He sits next to you with closed eyes. Slow, deep breathing that could be mistaken for sleep if not for the fact that he keeps drumming his fingers and with a burning face when the lyrics to the song turn romantic.

Pinkies ghost each other, the warmth that he gives off is an intense heat, always burning and consuming.  The song in the background fades slowly and is picked up by another with a similar tempo. You thank your lucky stars that you picked a playlist that held similar music genres. You don’t know how the atmosphere would have differed if you hadn’t.

“You know I’m leaving soon, right?” You breathe out in a low whisper, your fingers curling slightly inwards. “I’m going back to the human world.”

“Yeah,’ he whispers back with a broken breath, “I know.”

“I’m gonna miss you all.” You pause. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Of course you will. I’m-”

“You’re the Great Mammom,” you giggle. “How could I ever forget?” 

It’s silent afterwards, the lyrics, not registering to your brain, fill the dark room lit up only by the light from your D.D.D. and the fairy lights you put up so long ago. 

“You know,” you start, “it feels like I’ve been here forever. I uh,” you chuckle, “I remember putting up the fairy lights-” you point to the lights hanging on the walls, a few bulbs flickered out months ago, lifetimes ago- “and I was so scared that Lucifer was going to get mad at me for ruining the room or something.”

“He did. Blew a fuse while Levi had you holed up in his room.” His laugh is rich, loud and has a bit of a cackle to it. “I think he almost tore them down but Asmo started defendin’ them, callin’ them pretty and stuff.”

You turn your head to face him. “How come I didn’t know?”

He gives you a side glance and shrugs. “I don’t know. Didn’t seem important at the time, I guess.”

You nod slowly and look back up at the ceiling. “It seems so long ago now. Everything you know? Remember when you didn’t want to babysit me? Said all sorts of things and complained too,” you smirk and stretch out your fingers, flinching when you make contact with his hand. “Remember when Levi and I stuck Goldie in a microwave?”

You hear him growl. “You coulda ruined the poor girl!” He slaps your side, letting the back of his hand linger on you for a second longer. “Still haven’t forgiven you,” he grumbles.

“I’ve forgiven you for things,” you mutter, crawling your hands over to hold his. He tenses underneath your touch for a moment before relaxing.

“Like what? I’ve been nothin’ but nice to ya since you’ve been here!” He pulls his hand away and rises on his elbows, a playful glare directed your way as you stifle your laughter behind your now free hand.

“Remember when you broke into my room while I was with Solomon and started looking through my stuff to pawn off?” His mouth pulls into a thin and his hand clenches into fists.

“Who told you that?” His eyes shift around and he collapses back to his back with eyes shut tight and nose scrunched up.

“Beel,” you chuckle, rolling over onto your side and admiring his features. “I think we’re even.”

He really is handsome. He’s a model for a reason after all. Your hand reaches over and you run your fingers through his silvery hair. He sighs slowly, eyes fluttering to a close and neck craning further into your touch. 

“Even’s fine,” he whispers, a tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

The song ends and it's followed by a silence that is unbroken. Your eyes follow the fairy lights' trail, and you watch as another dimly lit bulb blinks out of existence.

"I think," you chew nervously on your bottom lip and your fingers scratch lightly as his scalp, "I'm hungry." You rise from the bed and wait on your knees with palms on your thighs. "Wanna come get something with me?"

He groans and rises, running a manicured hand through his hair. "It's late. All the food is probably gone by now."

You shrug and motion with your hands for him to move. "We can still check. You can stay here if you'd like," you offer, crawling out of bed after him. 

"Tch. And let you go alone," he rolls his eyes, "as if." He punches your shoulder lightly and opens the door, stepping aside to let you go before him.

Out in the hallway, you immediately latch onto his hand, fingers interlacing and he starts to stutter, his voice tight and broken. 

"You know," you start, cutting him off from his unintelligible words, "I'm going to miss holding your hand," you swallow nervously, face heating up and you tighten your grasp on his hand, palm already starting to clam up. "You're always so warm, ya know?"

You give him a side glance and give a sigh when his lips are pulled tight and his face is flushed. You think you can even feel the heat radiate off of him but that might just be from you.

"You don't have to go," he says quietly, face turned away. When you arrive at the kitchen, he lets go of your hand and opens the fridge. He's hunched over and jars full of jelly and other various things that look a bit too unsettling are shoved and clink around with each other. "You could just stay. You're- I'm your first after all."

You sit at a stool and watch him with sad eyes. "I wish I could," you whisper, "but this was always meant to last a year." You can feel tears form and you have to blink them back.

The fridge door is slammed shut and in his hand is a paper bag decorated with orchids. It crinkles in his hand and he places the bag in front of you, taking a seat next to you.

"Found some macaroons," he opens the bag and pulls out a pink treat. "Think they might be Asmo's but if ya ate them, he won't be as mad," he shrugs, taking a bite out of the snack. 

"So you're letting me take the blame?" You joke, shaking your head and pulling out a yellow treat. "To think you'd throw your human under the bus,” you say with a mock offended gasp, a hand clutching your chest. 

"Either you or me," he flashes his teeth in a smile. "Sorry about that doll."

"You know if he thinks I ate them, he'll probably ask for something in exchange like taking me out to help him choose an outfit or," you take a bite out of the pastry, "a kiss."

Mammon chokes on the last bite of his macaron, a hand coming to pat himself on the chest. Your eyes go wide and you rise from the stool, the wood making a harsh sound against the tile. Your hands come to pat rapidly against his back, cursing under your breath until his coughs turn into deep breathing. 

"You okay Mammon?" You go this side, one of your arms snaking around to touch his rapidly beating heart and the other staying settled on his back. "Just take deep breaths, okay?" You tell him softly, rubbing his back. You tilt your head and rest it on his shoulder.

He jerks up straight and you're able to move before his shoulder collides with your cheek. 

"I'm okay, I'm okay," he repeats, shaking his head. 

"Yeah?" 

He nods his head, mouth parted slightly open as he breathes. During his coughing fit, his hand came up to clutch your hand above his chest and he holds it firmly.

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you like holding my hand."

"What makes you say that?"

"The fact that you're holding onto my hand right now is a pretty good indicator," you tease, twitching the hand that is held between his chest and hand.

"We-Well you're my human after all! And you made me choke so-"

"Mammon?"

He falters and looks at you with wide eyes. "Hm?"

"Let me sit down?" You slowly slide your hands away from him, your touch slow and desperate not to part from his. "We can still hold hands," you tell him as you grab the stool and pull it closer to him. You sit swiftly, your palm left facing up and open. Its empty for only a few seconds before his hand comes in and holds onto yours. Its limp before it folds and squeezes your hand.

"You leave in a couple of months, yeah?"

"Yeah," there's a lump in your throat that makes it hard to swallow, "in a couple."

"We still got things we can do," he says softly, turning to look at you. 

"Lots of things," you agree. You smile when his thumb begins to stroke your hand.

"And then," he clears his throat and looks into your eyes, "when you're gone…," he trails off, not finding the correct words as his tongue darts and points through his cheeks.

"When I'm gone," you start, "we'll still be okay." You raise your hand still interlocked with his, "We're in a pact. We'll be okay," you tell him. You want to press a kiss against his knuckles, and keep him close to you but you can’t muster up the courage to do so.

"'Course we will. You just summon me and I'll be there."

It's a nice thought to have- something to help keep you grounded and imagine the future. You'll be up in the human realm and you'll be able to summon him first and get to hear him and feel him. He won't be entirely gone. Only for just a moment. And he's lived for eons. It'll be a blink for him. But it’ll feel like forever for you. It will always be forever for you.

"Hey, mind doing me a favor?"

"What is it?"

"Can you tell me a story about something cool you did? I think I just wanna hear you talk a bit more."

Maybe you won't confess tonight. Maybe you'll wait until tomorrow or the night before you leave. Maybe you won't ever tell him. The thought of parting makes your heart hurt. But for right now as he talks and waves his hand around telling his story, a wide grin and spark in his eyes, his other hand still holding tightly onto yours, you think you'll be okay. 

You'll be okay staring at his bright blue eyes with hints of gold, at his snow colored hair which holds the rays of sun in between tufts. You’ll live in the moment and you’ll think about holding him without second guessing, you’ll hold his hand until you both start to get clammy and he’ll make an excuse about why he can’t go to his bed and you’ll wake up in his arms tomorrow. It’ll be enough for now.

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

Nice Dragons Finish Last

(read on Ao3)

A month ago Nicky would’ve laughed at anyone who told him he’d find himself in this situation. Him? The youngest of his family, the runt, the odd one out, hiding in the basement of an abandoned house on the outskirts of the LFZ? The house that was about to be razed by a human mage that desperately wanted whatever Nicky’s new- what would he even call him? Friend? Acquaintance? Pain in his ass? The young(er than the one outside) human mage, Joe, who was currently putting all he had into the wards protecting them in the corner of the basement? Yeah right. He’s very happy hanging out in his room, tinkering with computers and playing video games, thank you very much.

Or he was. And then shit hit the fan, the head of his family clan sealed him, and promptly evicted him from the mountain. So now he finds himself here, stuck in a much weaker form than is entirely useful, even if he weren’t in the LFZ, where his normal form is prohibited, he couldn’t do shit. So he was stuck relying on a human mage, who from what Nicky had seen so far, was very good at what he does, but he only had so much to work with.

Several of Joe’s rings and bracelets glowed, the intricate spells carved into each of them glimmering in the dark basement. The ward was weakening, Joe’s reserve of magic that he stored in his jewelry was getting low and here on the outskirts of the LFZ, the natural magic of the world was weak, he couldn’t draw more from their surroundings to replenish.

Another bracelet dimmed and faded, the ward getting smaller and Joe cursed under his breath.

“I’m open to ideas if you have any, Nicky. I can only hold this for another minute, tops.”

Nicky scrubbed his hands over his face. He did have an idea actually. He didn’t plan on Joe finding out like this, hell he didn’t think he wanted Joe to know at all, but if either of them were to live another day, what choice did he have?

“Use me,” Nicky said, extending his hand to Joe.

Joe flinched back, shaking his head. “No way! Draining another humans soul for magic is blood magic, that will taint my magic forever!”

Nicky shook his head, extending his hand even further, insisting. “No. Trust me, it won’t be blood magic. Not with me.” His face hardened, hoping his sincerity would come across to Joe.

Joe was wary, eyeing him closely. But then his last bracelet flickered out and the wards dropped and in the same instant he grasped Nicky’s hand. Nicky smirked, squeezing Joe’s hand tight before he opened the dam and let his magic pour through their connection.

Joe nearly yanked his hand back as the magic flowed into him, it was hot and there was so much of it, and it just kept coming, it was overwhelming just how much of it there was but suddenly Joe was beaming, his face split in a huge grin and his eyes had a mischievous look to them and Nicky almost doubted if this was even a good idea.

“You’re not human,” Joe said, his voice incredulous.

“I’m not a lot of things, dead is one of them and I’d like to keep it that way if you don’t mind.”

Joe threw his head back and laughed, giddy both from the power and what he had just learned about Nicky.

The wards shot up and Joe pulled Nicky to his feet. Nicky staggered for a moment, not used to the sensation of having someone else inside his magic. Joe had clearly never had this sort of connection before either and Nicky could feel a brush of his emotions and thoughts just on the edge of his mind as they moved towards the door leading out of the basement. Someone with practice could clamp down on that, so the only transference was purely magic, but as it was Nicky actually enjoyed feeling him there.

“Ready?” Joe asked, looking Nicky in the eye.

“Do your worst.”

Nicky nearly fell to his knees as Joe yanked on the magic, his vision warping for a moment as Joe blasted through the wall of the basement, exposing them to the outside in an instant. As the dust settled around them, the soldiers outside started coughing and yelling in confusion and Joe was walking forward, pulling Nicky along behind him. He glowed with power, almost blinding to look at and growing brighter every second as more and more power flowed into him. Nicky stumbled, but stayed with him as he climbed the exterior stairs out of the crumbled basement. The rolling script of the bracelet that contained his modified microwave spell flashed as he released it, blasting the soldiers that had surrounded the house. They didn’t stand a chance, caught off guard as they were by the explosion and shocked at Joe’s appearance as he burned as bright as the sun. The guards were thrown back before they could even get a proper hold on their weapons, some tossed over the hedges and into neighboring yards by the blasts, some slamming into their armoured vans they had parked haphazardly in the yard, collapsing and not getting up again. A horrible smell filled the air as the spell cooked the soldiers from the inside out. Joe picked them off easily, but there were still so many and some hid behind vehicles, firing pot shots at the duo when they could. Nicky could feel his vision narrowing, he could feel every twist and turn his magic took, from deep in his chest, down through his arms and into Joe and then through every swoop of the ruins on Joe’s jewelry, his stomach turning like he was riding a roller-coaster along the same route.

The air crackled with energy and Nicky couldn’t tell if that was actual thunder he heard or if it was his own pulse roaring in his ears. He felt Joe yank on the magic again and Nicky slammed his eyes shut as it ripped through them both and blasted outwards, throwing any remaining soldiers away from them, scorching the dead grass in the yard to black and leaving only the two of them and one other standing.

The other mage. He held one of his power reserves in his hand, the silver stitching of ruins on his hands glowing as he prepared a spell. He kept nervously looking up at Joe, and back at his gloves, muttering under his breath as he struggled with the spell.

Joe took another huge pull from Nicky’s power, who finally fell to his knees, barely keeping a hold of Joe as he felt like he might pass out. Joe released the power directly at the other mage, the power visibly screaming through the air, blue and electric, snapping down on the mage like the jaws of a dragon. The mage screamed as he was thrown back, clutching his hands to his chest as though they were broken, his fingers splayed in a way they shouldn’t be able to.

Nicky could feel Joe on the edge of his mind, he could feel his relief that the danger was passed and that he was now just marveling at the power within himself, looking at how his hands glowed with it, and the thought of tracking down any survivors was flickering, but Nicky was so drained, he didn’t think he could handle much more of this so he clamped down on the connection, leaving the magic that Joe had pushed into his jewelry reserves, but pulling everything else back.

Joe snatched his hand away from Nicky, as though the loss of magic hurt just as much as the first initial out pour had been, and without his support, Nicky collapsed to the scorched earth, his eyes rolling back in his head.

“Nicky!” Joe yelled, dropping to his knees.

Nicky could feel warm hands on either side of his face, gentle rubbing of thumbs across cheek bones turning to frantically jostling his head in an attempt to wake him up. All he could manage was a groan as Joe put an arm under his neck and pulled him partially upright so Nicky was leaning against his chest.

“Hey, come on man,” Joe sounded frantic, “Stay with me, I’m sorry, i didn’t mean to take so much, come on, wake up!”

Nicky groaned again, but managed to open his eyes and raise an arm up to pull Joe’s hand away so he wasn’t tapping his face so much.

“I’m awake, I’ll be alright.” He said before closing his eyes again, leaning heavily on Joe.

Joe sighed in relief, wrapping his arms tightly around Nicky so his head was tucked under Joe’s chin. His hands rubbed circles on Nicky’s back absentmindedly as he looked around at the destruction. Nicky could feel as a chuckle bubbled up through Joe’s chest, a nervous and incredulous laugh.

“So when were you going to tell me you were a goddamn dragon?”

~~~

[So this is not an original idea, it’s heavily inspired by the Heartstrikers series, this scene is not verbatim but is a situation that happens in the first book and I rewrote it in my own style.]

[guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom]

Rebirth and Rewrites

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader

Warning: Language, mentions of self harm, antidepressants, mentions of injuries, violence, anxiety attacks, depressing thoughts, mentions of parental neglect, self destructive behavior, mentions of weapons, mentions of bounty hunters, allusions of sex.

Word Count: 8.5k

Songs: dRuGz- Willow Smith, Money- Leikeli47, Only You (And You Alone)- The Platters, and Moonsickness- Penelope Scott.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve felt this. Feeling like you’re disconnected from your body that is. Like in the Edge of Seventeen when Nadine says she gets this feeling like she’s looking down on herself from outside her body and she hates what she sees. That’s sort of how it felt. But this? This felt entirely different like I was in the wrong body but retained my soul, it couldn't be explained. It requires no explanation really if you understand it then great and if you don’t you don’t. ”

A/N: Sorry this took so long school got too be a bit much things are kinda slow but now they’re starting to get interesting. 

Series Masterlist  Previous Part   Next Part 

The shampoo bottles flew wildly around the bathroom along with everything else that wasn’t bolted down. I tried my best to put everything back in place but the second I’d put one thing down another thing was moving back up towards the ceiling. 

“No, no. No stop!” I spoke as if the inanimate objects would listen to me and stop moving. 

Fuck. No stop. Please.

Everything was swirling in a tornado like fashion above my head. I ducked down into the bathtub and just waited because it had to stop at some point. Right?

“Y/N?” I heard Carmen call. I couldn’t bring myself to answer. I don’t think I’d have been able to speak if I tried. 

“Y/N open the door please” She asked softly followed by the sound of the doorknob rattling. 

I didn’t hear anything else for who knows how long could’ve been a second, 30 minutes, an hour I couldn’t tell. The door was slammed open. Startling me. Everything froze in the air for a few seconds before falling.

“Are you okay?” Carmen grabbing my shoulders. 

I nodded and shrugged her arms off me. Pushing myself up to stand on my legs. It was then and only then did I realize I was shaking.  

I opened my mouth to speak when there was a chime almost like the sound of a microwave. It felt like my eyes had zoomed out above my body. An aerial camera view. 

What I was experiencing was an out of body experience in the past. Like some Ebeneezer Scrooge type shit or a Raven Simone moment but backwards. 

I was shaking my hands flexing at my sides. Except for it wasn’t me me, it was another version of me passing off as another person that I could see full body.  

“Oh are you going to cry?” Heaven taunted. 

I watched as I blinked tears out my eyes. Anyone else would see this as a moment of weakness. However, I know I cried when I got really angry. And I mean really angry. Like rip your heart out, chew it up and spit it out angry. 

“Shut. Up.” I breathed looking down at my feet. 

“And what if I don’t you wanna snitch on me? Cry?” 

I knew the jist of what happened next. I was there when it actually happened. I beat her ass and got suspended. I just didn’t remember exactly how it happened or what exactly I did. 

The girl was still running her mouth but I wasn’t paying attention to that. I was watching her hands and her stance. That was something Wade taught me to watch someone’s body language, that way you could know when or if they were about to swing at you. 

 I threw a sharp right hook knocking Precious’s head into the locker. Right as Precious was about to go for my hair I was falling. 

The floor fell right from my feet and the scene that was once in front of me faded away. I wasn’t falling for long, my back slammed into the cold cement beneath me. 

“I thought you were supposed to be a good guy,” I laughed “Now you’re kicking me around for no reason at all?” Wait. I remember this. Why was it happening again? Why wasn’t it in the third person like the last? This was a core memory for me. My first encounter with Spidey. 

“You were stealing. It’s my job to stop crime,” 

I knew exactly what to do and say. I’d have to run over this like a practiced script. I pushed myself backwards with my hands. 

Oh yeah and who’s paying you to do that?

“No one, is I’m just a good person,” 

“Am I not a good person?” 

A cold sticky wet feeling engulfed my wrist. 

“You are a criminal and deserved to face the proper punishment,”

I rolled my eyes and grunted as I tried to pull my wrist out of whatever it was holding me to the ground. I used to think the webs actually came out of him which is disgusting. 

“Yeah, yeah sure can you hand me my bag so I can leave?” I teased.  

“Y/N!” A random voice called out. That wasn’t supposed to happen. 

“What was that?” Spiderman or Peter asked. I looked around trying to locate the voice. I heard my name called again before the only thing I could hear was a loud crack. 

I looked underneath me and the ground beneath my feet was split down the middle. I tried to pull my arm out of the webbing harder this time. The floor continued to split like a crack in a windshield before eventually consuming me and I was falling again.

As I was falling everything looked so beautiful. There were glowing orbs of light all around me. It was completely black except for the stars and orbs. 

It was then that realized I wasn’t falling anymore. It was the opposite. I was floating or stiled in place.

 I wanted to touch one of those bright spherical orbs I probably shouldn’t but I was going to do it anyway. I reached out towards it and my hand glided smoothly through the air. Or not air? This is space right? There’s no oxygen in space. Then how was I breathing?

My hands went straight through the orb leaving behind the same fire like ribbons from a few days ago and earlier today. The waves were fluid. They felt like nothing. Like a breeze maybe. Something that could possibly tickle if you endured enough of it. 

A large energy surge shot out the orb knocking me back. At least 100 feet once my arm was all the way through. It didn’t hurt though it was just strong. 

When I started moving back towards nothing in particular it felt like I was swimming. I began to laugh, I felt so free. 

 Multiple rings opened around me. I was circled with gold rings shooting off sparks. They looked like portals. To where I don’t know. There were some that looked like fiery pits of hell. Others were very colorful like a rave or rocky terrain. 

There was one that was calling me for some reason. Something told me to stop resisting the pull to stay where I was but I knew I couldn't. I pushed through the air. Well I guess I pulled myself towards it instead of pushed. I slid through like a knife through butter.

The first thing I felt was the coolness of the porcelain bathtub on my back. My head felt as if it was expanding inside my skull.  

I stepped in between all the shampoo bottles and hygiene products on the floor making my way out of the bathroom. I entered the living room not prepared to see Tony and Peter sitting there on the couch with some person I’d never seen. Who looked straight out of a Men in Black movie. 

“Oh shit.” I turned to Carmen grabbing her arm and dragging her down the hal l“What the fuck did you do?” 

“Where were you?” She answered my question with her own. Well two can play that game. And I believe I asked first. 

“What’d you do? Why'd you call them? Or if you didn't, why are they here? It was just a few bottles, I had it under control,” 

“I was freaking out that’s why! Where the hell were you?” 

“What are you talking about? I was in the bathroom. You saw me,” 

“You’ve been gone for 7 hours Y/N!” 

“What?” I shook my head. “No. What are you talking about?” 

“You’ve been gone for 7 hours and your eyes are glowing. What the hell is going on with you?” 

I pulled out my phone opening it to the camera app and my eyes were in fact glowing. I blinked very hard multiple times. Shaking my head until it cleared. What the fuck is happening.

I sent Peter, Tony, and the Agent J wannabe on their way with a few lies to clear the air. I’m sure Tony would want to play more of his mad scientist game on me but that’s a problem for another day. I was just going to read my book until I fell asleep. Last interaction I had with another human that day was Carmen patting my shoulder and saying “Welcome to the world of mutants, girl. Buckle up it’s a bumpy ride.” before walking away.  

I swear to whatever’s out there that I’m losing my mind. Like full on shave your head and move to New Mexico crazy. I’d open that can of worms later. 

“I don’t think I can love myself without sexualizing myself is that bad?” I asked, applying my lipgloss.

“I don’t necessarily think so, it’s common but if it gets out of hand, it can create lots of other problems,” MJ gave her input.

“Oh I definitely know all about the problems it can cause I just can’t stop, ” 

Carmen strolled into the bathroom. 

“Where’s the thing?” 

“What thing?”

“You know the,” She did a hand movement that I somehow understood. It wasn’t even remotely connected to what she was trying to convey either. 

“Oh! The face paint. It’s under the cabinet by Salem’s food bowls,” 

“What?” MJ questioned. “How did you get face paint from that?” 

I just shrugged. 

“I don’t know. We’re like connected or some shit,” 

I sat on the couch, Halloween playing on the TV but no one was paying attention. We were all on our phones. 

“Alright,” I sighed, pushing up from the couch. “I should be done at like 9 so that gives us like 11 to get there,” 

I promised my sisters I’d take them trick-or-treating. It’s been like this forever and I wasn’t going to back out now. Sapphire was actually dressed as Spiderman and for some reason I couldn’t tell if that made me wanna laugh or cry. Didn’t even know they made costumes for that guess that whole being sponsored by Tony thing was coming in clutch. 

I don’t know how it works anywhere else but in New York you gotta go trick-or-treating on the street. Everything is private property and you can’t just get buzzed in just for candy so you go in publicly owned places. 

“This is the last store for tonight, I gotta get back” I informed them.

Sapphire whined and I wrapped my arm around her pulling her into my side. 

“Cmon’ little superhero,” 

I stepped off to the side towards Aaliyah.

“For your sake I would not let her eat much candy if any tonight,” 

An half hour later and I was back at Carmen’s house. I really need to find somewhere else to stay. It's been too long here. 

After what felt like a million hours Harry finally showed up. 

“I’m driving,” I claimed moving towards the apartment door. 

“No you're not,” He stated.

“Oh really? Then why do I have the keys.” I lifted the keyring rattling it around. 

He let out an aspirated sigh. I could tell he wasn’t going to fight me on this. I'm sure he was just confused on how I even got them. 

Now there were two reasons I was driving. One because I had to make a detour and two I didn’t want to sit in Harry’s backseat because God knows what has happened back there. 

Back to the detour. It was Peter’s apartment complex. I'm surprised he agreed to come. had just brought it up to be polite. It was well known that parties weren’t really his scene. 

Harry held his hand out, palm facing up. There lied about seven bars. I’m honestly surprised he was sharing willingly. That was new. 

 Bri and Carmen as well as myself had no qualms about popping the xans. MJ didn't take any, just shook her head when offered, which I’m glad she’s too smart for drugs. So is Peter which is exactly why I pushed Harry’s hand away. Giving him a look daring him to even think about offering anything to him. 

Everyone had split up Carmen with MJ. Bri to honestly I don’t know where and Harry to I don’t think I want to know where. And Peter? He’s with me of course, couldn’t leave him by himself. 

“Where’s Ned I haven’t seen him in a while,” I decided to speak because I couldn’t stand the awkward silence in this bedroom I’d somehow backed myself into. 

“He said he’s been to one party this and that fits his quota for the year,” 

“Well I would’ve thought Liz’s thing met your quota too but here we are,” I could feel my brain slowing down and smiled slightly. Then I noticed how far away Peter was on the bed.

“You can get closer, I won’t bite,” I hummed. “Unless you want me to of course,” 

“What!?” He almost shouted.

“I’m kidding dude, calm down,” I laughed. The room fell into silence again save for the sound of the music vibrating throughout the house. I miss real house parties. But oh well this party where I wasn’t actually doing anything would have to do.  

“Just realized I never asked. What are you dressed as?”

“Han Solo,” He replied as if I was supposed to know who that was.

“Who?” I scrunched up my eyebrows. 

“You don’t know Han Solo?” 

I shook my head. I’m sure it looked a lot sloppier than I meant for it to be I just couldn’t really move my head

“From Star Wars?” He tried again.

“The only people I know from Star Wars are Princess Lelia, Luke Skywalker and that one robot motherfucker.”

It was hard not to smile as Peter rambled on about the Saga. I wasn’t really paying attention but he looked adorable. I was just staring at him and I’m sure if Harry or Carmen were here they’d tell me I looked like the embodiment of the heart eye emoji. It’s not like I liked him or anything he was just cute.  

That was until my burner vibrated against my lower leg. I used my arms to push myself up, excusing myself to take the call. 

“What’s up?” I asked. 

Wade’s voice boomed from the phone. 

“I know a guy that knows a guy who knows-“ He cut himself for the reason I could only assume was because of the crashing noise coming from inside the house. 

“Are you at a party?” 

“No,” I lied for no reason he wouldn’t care if I was.

“I’m not stupid just call me back when you’re not flirting with some fuckboy or high,” He choose to emphasize the last word. 

“I’m not high,” I’m not sure who exactly I was trying to convince. 

“You’re literally slurring right now. Don’t drink and drive kid,” 

“What?” I laughed at his attempt at a lecture or a safety tip whatever that was. 

“Don’t laugh, I'm trying to be a responsible adult. I think it’s about time.” 

I couldn’t remember when or how I got back inside but here I was surrounded by people with music bouncing off the wall fading in and out of consciousness and I had never felt more alone. It was kinda pathetic.

“I’ve never understood that calling people daddy shit it’s fucking weird-“ I cut my rambling off pushing my face against the car window enjoying its coolness. “English is the most unattractive language, like it’s so tame and dull and…” I trailed off letting my head fall back down as I lost control over my neck muscles for a second. 

“It’s just like- I just wanna be able to say-“ I sighed before starting up again “Vous avez l'air très attirant ce soir. Les choses que je te laisserais me faire,” 

I looked away and everyone besides MJ was looking at me with wide eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was because she was driving or the fact I knew she spoke French. 

I realized it was definitely the latter when she spoke back in the same language. 

“Was that directed as a general thing or at Peter?” 

Thank God no one else understood us. I mean it wouldn’t have been that big of a deal I’d just have to endure a bit of teasing but it’s better to avoid the headache. 

“So are you going to let us in on your conversation or…” Harry questioned.

“Shut up,” I spoke to both Harry and MJ. “Drop Peter off first,” That was the last thing I muttered before falling deep into the vast clusterfuck of a land that is my subconscious. 

When I woke up I was on Carmen’s couch with a blanket draped over my waist. I clumsily reached for my phone just texting the last person I texted. To stimulate my mind.  

you: hi are you awake 

I couldn’t help but laugh at how much this seemed like a u up? text but this was in a completely different context. 

It took a minute but he responded.

p😜🤚: yeah are you okay?

you: im fine just bored 

p😜🤚: oh

p 😜🤚: well we can talk if you want too 

I couldn’t help but smile. Ugh what’s wrong with me. I knew better than to ask this because I wasn’t trying to catch feelings anytime soon but my dumbass did it anyway. 

you: can we ft

p: sure 

He apparently did see the cuts on my leg that one time because he just asked me about it. To which I  denied, denied, denied. Salem did it and that’s final. I only did it once anyway so who gives a fuck I’d gotten the urge to do it under control. Like I’d heard somewhere before there’s a difference between thinking about hurting yourself and wanting to hurt yourself. 

“You’re sure you’re okay though?” He asked one last time and I nodded my head. “Okay because I know all these changes in your body can be-“

“Changes?” I interrupted “Why are you making it sound like puberty,” l laughed. I wish I could convince myself whatever these mutations were are just puberty.  

“You know what I mean!” He let out a small laugh.

“Okay but puberty is really weird, why do humans need so much sweat,” I attempted to shift the conversation onto something that wasn’t my physical and mental wellbeing.

 Either Peter could tell I wasn’t going to give him shit or I really was just the master of getting out of things but it worked. I eventually fell asleep and when I woke up he was still on the phone.

“So you’re sending me to bounty hunt a bounty hunter who’s bounty hunting Mr. America?”

“Exactly,” 

“That’s the dumbest shit I’ve heard all day,” 

“Hey you asked me to help you be grateful you little asshole,” Wade teased.

“Fuck you,” I laughed. “How long do I have?” 

“Two weeks top.” 

I hummed before hanging up.

Now the question was to do this alone or to bring someone else. I definitely haven’t been in the most stable of headspaces lately. There could be up to 4 Avengers and 1 bounty hunter. I’d have to be smart about this. I can’t believe that I’m about to say this but I need a plan. 

-Step one: Find Carmen and make her make a plan.-

Step one: Convince Tony to let me go on a solo mission. Giving me a reason to dip while having a whole buncha cool technological weapons at my disposal.

Step two: Disable the tracking in the weapons provided. 

Step three: Get a car.

Step four: Follow bounty guy to wherever they’re going. 

Step five: Take out the bounty guy. 

Step six: Talk to Captain America.

Step seven: Find Thor from Captain America. 

First I’d have to get out of detention. I would’ve been fine with detention if I had my phone. I don’t even know why I’m in here actually. I hadn’t gotten in trouble in a while. I was confused until Tony strolled into the room. Why couldn’t he meet anyone in a normal location just once. He always had to fucking abmush people. 

I had to hold back from rolling my eyes. 

“Yes?” I asked. 

“You said you were up for a solo op right?”

I nodded skeptically. 

“Well I have one for you next Friday,” 

“Go on,” I moved my arms under my torso to rest under my chin. 

It was just a simple drug bust in and out. He must’ve been really bored to go out of his way to try and stop something as miniscule as this. Probably didn’t think it through when he signed those accords. Now he literally can’t do anything without the whole world jumping his dick.  For now he’s living vicariously through Peter and I’m assuming. 

A simple drug bust isn’t something you really need to get ready for. Trying to find and possibly have to fight one Avenger let alone possibly 4 is something you have to be more than ready for. In every way possible. Including mentally.

“I think I want to go back on antidepressants,” I blurted, plopping back down on the couch with a bag of chips. 

“You’re being serious?” Carmen asked, pausing the TV.

“Yeah I mean what’s so surprising about that?” I unpaused it.

She paused it again turning towards me. 

“Why? What happened you said you hated all the side effects and would never take them again,” 

“Guess I changed my mind,” I shrugged “I just told you cause I know you know how to get them ‘s all,” 

“Okay.” She nodded and I could almost see her brain working behind her eyes. 

One thing about long term friends is they know when you don’t want to talk about something and they also know when they need to drop it. In the click of a few buttons on a keyboard I had an appointment with a psychiatrist. The fact she knew my insurance information is kinda scary though. Apparently I passed the test to get crazy people's medicine with flying colors. 

I was in Queens for many reasons, one of them being I wanted to spar with Felicia. She is not a sparring person she likes to fight but only when she has to, but I was able to convince her. It didn’t take much actually. She owes me after all 3:1.

She was sorta similar to Black Widow in fight styles and she was hard to beat.  With Captain America it’s easy, his fighting style is easy to evade, if I just avoid the shield and go for his legs I’d be good. Spiderman doesnt shield his left side when he goes to hit you and relies on his webs too much. Wanda she- I don’t know what she does actually but if I can get her to physically fight me instead of using powers I could easily take her down. That Falcon guy uses his legs a lot so aim for the wings. 

But Black Widow was agile. The strongest of them all because she doesn’t use strength you can tell from the videos I’d been analyzing she movies like a ballerina. Her fighting style is to not have one at all. 

I mean it was scary how similar she and Felicia were; they even both have Black in their name and suits. Despite neither of them being back which is funny. 

I was laid out on the panting. I rolled over onto my stomach grunting as I reached for my knife. I wasn’t done at least not yet. 

I slung my arm towards her and this time she didn’t catch it. I barely grazed her but it was enough to catch her off guard. I was able to get her pinned to the ground for like 15 seconds. 

“Remind me to never get on your bad side,” I laughed.

“You could never,” Honestly I’m starting to believe that. Even when Olivia and I broke up she never got hostile towards me or anything. And her being hostile towards me is not something I’d enjoy. 

I’d have to be the clumsiest “agile” person I’d ever met. I fell walking down the steps to get back outside. I rolled and landed on my ankle but I’m sure it’d be fine. It only caused a slight discomfort when I put pressure on it. I’m just glad I could walk like this without having Felicia on my ass about it. 

I was already in the area so I decided to stop by Peters house just to see if he was home. Okay in all honesty, I wasn’t really in the area Felicia lives in an entirely different part of Queens. But he said I could stop by whenever and I’d like to say I’m a literal person. 

I winced when I put my foot all the way back down on the ground but I didn’t want to be interrogated. Peter does not know when to drop things. 

“Hey,” I spoke once he opened the door. 

“Hey?” He asked more than said as if he was surprised I was here. 

He just stood there staring for a few seconds too long.

“So can I come in? Or...” I tilted my head. 

“Oh,” He shook his head slightly as if shaking out his thoughts. 

“Oh, yeah come in,” He stepped out of the way. 

We both sat with our legs facing each other on his bottom bunk. Suddenly I became aware. 

Aware of the way I could feel all the fibers in the polyester blanket I sat on.

Aware of each sound around me, the slight wind just outside the window, the faint TV show I could hear from the apartment on the floor above, the air conditioning rattling. 

Aware of how I didn’t remember who I’d been or how where or why. 

Aware of how I had a purpose, how I should look to the sky for answers and when I could not look to the light I must look into our heart. The one collective heart we share. But I could not remember who we were. I wasn’t meant to remember who we were or what we were.

I wasn’t supposed to remember not yet. Not now. But soon or maybe never. They'll never take my power, even if I didn’t understand it yet. It was mine and mine to keep. 

Aware of the faint whisper of my name rang through the air. 

I didn’t appreciate the headache and tightness in my chest this awareness or insanity brought me. I needed a distraction. Not sure why this was the first thing that popped into my head but it was. 

“Your suit can record things right?”

“Yeah why?” 

“Does it record everything it’s around?”

The whispering only got closer and closer. My name being called out with a sense of urgency and grief. I couldn’t see. There was a difference between adrenaline and anxiety and this wasn’t the later. Something was seriously wrong and I had no idea what to do about it. Finally the voice got so loud it could not be ignored.

“Y/N!” I snapped my eyes up and tried to calm my breathing. 

“What?” I asked with more hostility than I intended. 

“It’s just you zoned out and started muttering something. It freaked me out,” 

I had to hold back from showing my confusion on my face. 

“Sorry,” I murmured sheepishly. I don’t know why I felt the need to apologize. It's like I was a walking ball of grief, guilt, and shame but it wasn’t my own. 

I’m not sure how long we sat there in silence before I felt the impending urge to escape but as soon as I put pressure on my foot the shock of the pain shooting to my leg wasn’t able to be concealed. I winced quietly but I know he heard me. 

In two seconds flat he was pestering me trying to figure out what was wrong. I ignored him and suddenly the fraying on the shoelaces of my combat boots was extremely interesting to me. 

“It’s nothing Peter, drop it,” I walked towards his closet. 

“It’s not nothing,” He sighed moving towards me. “Why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” 

Because if I told you then you’d tell Tony and I’d get taken off the solo op.

I just looked up at the ceiling and decided to change the topic with something I knew would get the target off of my back. 

“Why’d you never get me arrested?” 

“Huh?” He raised his eyebrows scrunching up his face.

“All the times you came after me as Thorn. You always let me get away, why?” 

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t see you get arrested I guess.” 

I hummed to his answer letting my hands roam through his closet. I picked up a pair of Hello Kitty pajama pants.

“When’d you get these?” I asked. 

He snatched them from my hands.

“Haha go ahead and make fun of me for them. Mr. Stark gave them to me.” 

I simply smiled.

”I was just going to say they were very cute actually ’m sure you looked adorable, but okay,”

I glanced back at him and his face had a light pink glow.

“You’re blushing!” I pointed out laughing.

“Am not,” He lied.

“Are too. I can tell you aren’t used to getting compliments,” I smiled. “That’s too bad though you deserve plenty of compliments,” I looked back up at the ceiling and noticed an attic or trap door. I hopped up a bit and his suit fell down as I hit the door. 

“How does everyone keep finding that?” I heard him ask.

“It’s a very you place to put it that’s why,” I mindlessly answered back.

“You heard me?” 

That’s snapped me out of whatever trance I was in. 

“What? Was I not supposed to?” As soon as the sentence left my mouth I heard a scream.

“Somethings wrong,” Peter announced. So he heard it too?

I felt drawn to it. Like I knew them or something. 

“Uh…” I stalled “I have to go. Sorry,” 

“Okay text me when you get back home,” He rushed out since I’d moved away so quickly. 

I was sure I was limping but the pain wasn’t as prevalent in my mind as the screaming was. I followed it as if it was a compass. I followed it to the middle of nowhere. It was just dry grass and about three trees caged by chain link fences and abandoned buildings. 

Whatever came over me faded as soon stepped off the sidewalk. The screaming subsided into nothing and it was like a tight grip around my chest slipping away. I’m really losing my mind oh my god. 

I couldn’t sleep. I sat in the bathtub all night focusing. I found when I focused hard enough I could move some of the things. It isn’t so much about imagining where you want something to go it was about believing it was already there. It hurt my head to do it though. I only moved about three things 4 inches. 

It was a possibility that I was going through a psychotic break or I could’ve really been moving things with my mind because of whatever radiation was in my body. A few days ago I apparently disappeared after there was a tornado of shampoo bottles flying around. Maybe I did that subconsciously somehow. 

I mean gamma rays literally invented the Hulk wherever he was. Who knows what they were doing to me. 

I eventually fell asleep halfway on and halfway off the couch. How I even got there in the first place I wasn’t sure. I upped the times I needed to go to the gym a day to 3 times. That would’ve been fine. I didn’t have like 50 missing assignments to turn in before the end of the semester. Which is in 2 weeks. 

It didn’t help that I felt like something bad was about to happen. Don’t know what but I feel it coming. I hummed to myself. Okay now back on track. It comes in handy to have smart friends, especially ones willing to help you get your work done. 

“Why are we at the park?” Peter asked as I tucked my legs back to swing even higher. 

“Because if you do work in an unusual place you get it done faster.”

“I’m not sure that’s tr-“ 

“It is true don’t question me,” 

“We're not even doing any work right now,” He pointed out. 

“If you swing higher than me we can start.” I knew he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge.

“Oh, you’re on,” He replied, putting both his hands on the swing’s chains. 

He didn’t beat me. I let him win because I got tired.

“Yeah right,” He laughed. 

“I did! You wouldn’t of won if I didn’t stop, I let you win out of pity” 

I actually managed to get 3 whole assignments done. School can be kinda fun when you have a teacher who doesn’t try to make you feel stupid. It’s way easier when you have the energy to try at all.

 You never realize how much walking you do in a day or how excruciating exercising is until your leg hurts. I was going to let it stop me though. There’s a reason people say walk it off to injuries. 

The entire structure of my plan had failed. Somehow, someone probably Peter, told Tony that I got hurt and I got taken off the solo op. 

After 30 minutes of me being annoying as fuck I got put back on. Only problem now was Peter was coming as a safety precaution.

Step 8: Figure out how to ditch Peter.

Fuck my life. Although everything else was falling apart I’d manage to get 40% of my assignment turned in. 

Friday came in a blink of an eye. I’d be the bait and Peter would just be the lookout. I wasn’t planning on going through with whatever I was supposed to be doing here. I just needed to disable the tracker in my communicator. I guess I was thinking straight because I didn’t hear or even see the guy move behind Peter. Not until I heard him call out.

“It’s a set up!” 

There was one thing I didn’t have to think about and that was running. It was my expert tactic. I knew it wouldn’t be fair to leave Peter. He might think he can take care of himself but he was too naive for his own good. 

“Wait!” He called out and I stopped behind an empty building.

“Do you trust me?” I asked.

“Yeah but why-“ 

I interrupted him.

“I need to do something really important and Tony can’t know about it,” 

“Now you can go back but you can’t say a single thing about this to him. Just say the mission went wrong and I decided it was safer to ditch or something.”

I could see the conflict in his eyes.

“No,” 

Fuck. I felt my burner vibrate in my pocket. It was probably Carmen asking where I was. 

“No?” 

“Yeah cause I’m coming with you,” 

“I can’t ask you do to that,” 

“I know but I’m coming or I’ll tell Mr. Stark,” 

I knew he probably wouldn’t but I couldn’t risk the slim chance that he would. 

“Fine…” I breathed out. I didn’t have anytime to argue I’d just ditch him somewhere. 

I saw him quietly cheer. Clearly not understanding the severity of the situation. This wasn't some Vulture thing, this was very highly trained individuals. 

I dialed Carmen again.

“Hey… So we’ve got a plus one,” 

“What?” 

“You’ll see,” 

We were in the car for 12 fucking hours and we still weren’t there. I never realized how much Peter talked until now. We had no form of entertainment besides the radio. Carmen pulled over at a gas station so we could switch off and partially because Peter said he had to use the bathroom. 

While he was still inside Carmen spoke up for the first time in what felt like weeks.

“Why’d you bring Golden boy along?”

“Cause I didn't want him to get shot,” 

“Yeah I understand that part. Why didn’t you just like knock him out and dip,” 

“What why the fuck would I do that,” 

“You would’ve done it to anyone else. You’re getting all soft,” She poked my side and I flipped her off. 

“How’s that for soft?” As soon as the sentence came out of my mouth I heard the click of the door opening and it startled me a lot more than it should’ve. 

The rest of the ride was silent save from Peter asking home much longer we had to go before falling asleep. It was about 12 pm by the time we got there. After shaking both Carmen and Peter awake I headed up to knock on the door. 

A girl who looked about Aaliya’s age answered the door.

I smiled at her.

“Is your dad here I have to ask him something,” 

Now I knew for a fact he was here he was on house arrest. I was looking through the videos Peter’s suit had recorded and I found this giant guy at some airport in Germany who I was able to trace back to Scott Lang. 

That one guy who transferred all that money out of Vistacorp back to its consumers. It was pretty badass as far as nonviolent crimes go. 

I could see her playing my question over in her head deciding if she’d have to lie or not. I’m assuming she saw something somewhat trustworthy in me because I was sitting in his house on his couch. Trying to convince him to help me.  

“So let me get this straight. You have telekinetic and fire powers and had a dream that you believe is prophetic and you need me to tell you where Captain America is?” 

“Pretty much yeah,” 

“Okay uh wow,” He claimed standing up. I could tell he believed me. There wasn't a hint of distrust in his eyes. Which is good because I wasn’t lying.

“I want to help you, I do. But-“ 

“You don’t know where he is do you?” 

“No not exactly. I do have something though.” He replied standing up off the couch “Hold on let me get it,” He went rummaging around his house because coming back about a minute later. 

“No luck?” Carmen asked as she read my facial expression. 

I shook my head.

“All he gave me was this,” I held up the plastic plaque. 

“What are we even looking for anyway,” Peter asked. 

I could see Carmen shaking her head signaling me not to tell him. I didn’t. He’d find out sooner or later. I think we were too far from home to ditch him now.

“So are we paying or are we saving the cash?” Carmen asked.

“We can just save it probably let me go check,” 

The hotel was empty for the most part. Multiple rooms to choose from. It was always easier to make a get away if needed from the bottom floor and I chose to break into the one closest to the exit. 

“I call showering first,” Carmen spoke. 

I just waved her off plopping onto one of the Queen beds placed next to the air conditioner. Peter was just standing in the corner like he was nervous or something. 

“First “road trip” or something?” I teased.

“Kinda…” He trailed off as something caught his attention. “Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going,” 

Might as well.

“To find Captain America,” 

He looked like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Wait you’re being serious?”

“As a heart attack,” 

“I don’t think he likes me,” He looked down as he fidgeted with his hands. “I kinda stole his shield,” 

“So I’ve heard,” I giggled. 

I checked the communicator and the bounty hunter we were supposed to be hunting down was still in the same place. This could mean 1 of many things, either the tracker on them is broken or has been found, they found him already, or the whole communicator was broken. 

“Alright I’m done,” Carmen emerged from the bathroom. 

Peter being nice like he always is let me go next. Sometimes it concerns me how nice he is. Like he was planning something just like Canadians they all seem so nice but they’re just as racist as everyone else. But now I’m starting to believe he's just genuinely that good of a person. 

Which is refreshing. You don’t see too many good people nowadays. However the better of a person you are the more room you have to taint. And I knew for a fact I wouldn’t allow myself to be one of those people who did it. 

You know when you’re dreaming and there’s something or someone chasing you and you try to run but you never can. I would say that’s me, my entire essence. I’d been trying to out run my demons for so long never realizing that my only demon was myself. And no matter how bad I wanted to, I couldn’t outrun myself. Trust me I’ve tried. 

I couldn’t outrun the sudden ache moving throughout my body. I could always feel an anxiety attack right before it happened but remained powerless to stop it most of the time. 

Streams of water ran over my body mixing with the warm tears that ran down my face. I’m sure the water pressure overpowered my sobs from outside of the room but that didn’t mean I couldn’t hear the pathetic sounds. 

After my breathing went back to normal I stood in the mirror detangling my hair staring at each mark on my body. Whether it be a tattoo or scar or a mole I looked. I reminisced about the stories behind them, some a lot sadder than the rest. But somehow the marks I couldn’t remember were the saddest of them all.

It hurt to want to go back to life before everything went… just wrong, when you couldn’t even remember what it was like before then. 

It’s like I was numb before and crying felt good. Well it didn’t feel good but you know what I mean. It just felt good to know I could still feel.

I heard a knock at the door shaking myself out of my spiraling thoughts. I sniffled, wiping my nose, before tightening my towel around my waist and opening the door.

The first thing that hit me was the cool breeze of the hotel air conditioning contrasting against my warm skin. The second was Peter looking confused as ever holding some form of cloth in his hands.

“Oh I’m sorry, was I taking too long?” I looked back towards my clothes sitting on the counter grabbing them as if I was about to exit but in reality I still had no clothes on underneath this towel. “You can go hold on,” 

“No! Uh…”

“No what?” I smiled. 

“I came to bring...” He waved around what I could now see was a shirt.

I simply raised my eyebrows at him suspiciously.

“Here,” He thrusted the shirt into my hands. 

I looked down at the article of clothing in confusion.

“Thanks?” 

“I know you left it out here so…” He awkwardly clamped his hands together. 

“Thank you,” I replied, slowly shutting the door so he knew he could back off. For some reason I couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across my face. 

Smiles never lasted long for me. Something weird just always manages to happen every time I’m even remotely happy. 

I was in some form of a prison or detainment facility. There was thick glass everywhere so I’m assuming it was high security. I had the plaque from earlier today in my hand except it wasn’t my hand. Unless I have magically turned white, it was someone else. 

This isn’t the first time I’ve felt this. Feeling like you’re disconnected from your body that is. Like in the Edge of Seventeen when Nadine says she gets this feeling like she’s looking down on herself from outside her body and she hates what she sees. That’s sort of how it felt. 

But this? This felt entirely different like I was in the wrong body but retained my soul, it couldn't be explained. It requires no explanation really if you understand it then great and if you don’t you don’t. 

The plaque had a seam that I hadn’t noticed before and it was hollow inside. I clutched in my right hand and kept walking.

 As soon as I entered a large room extending from the hall. That all too familiar siren sound played through my ears as a bright light stunted my vision. 

I was brought back to my body. Well I guess I just woke up because now I was all sweaty and sitting straight up on the bed like an idiot.

 I made my way to the bathroom and the light made me realize my eyes were glowing and so were my veins. I just blinked it out like I was trying to put contacts in and washed my face. 

Seriously what was happening to me I don’t want to end up like Hulk or Wanda and have everyone scared of me. But whatever this is couldn’t be controlled or understood. 

I woke the others up, as I was trying to figure out how to open the plaque I heard Carmen hiss loudly.

“Why’s the doorknob so hot?” She turned to me “Did you do this?” 

“No? How would I do that?” Maybe I did do it. I did lose my train of thought when I went to open the door. 

Still doesn’t explain the heat part, maybe it had something to do with the fire thing from Staten Island but I hadn’t done that again since that night. I was honestly starting to believe I made it up. 

I reached for a napkin to wipe the syrup off my hands. It was Carmen’s brilliant idea to stop at a Waffle House. All the time we spent here could’ve been used doing something actually productive. 

“So why are you trying to open that?” Peter asked, sliding closer to where I had the plaque laid out on the table. He asks too many questions. I didn’t wanna respond but I didn’t wanna be mean.

“Because,” I grunted as I struggled to pull apart the top and bottom. “I had a dream that there was something inside and now I wanna see if that’s true,” 

“A dream?” He questioned.

“Yeah a dream,” 

“Who was in it?”

“No one was in it,” I started to get annoyed for absolutely no reason. “Just finished your food,” I pointed at his plate.

“Fine…” He slid back over. 

I hit the seam of the plaque against the edge of the table and the bottom popped up. I let out a silent cheer and caught the attention of Carmen.

“What?” 

I flipped the opening over my palm and a rolled up piece of paper came out. 

“Look what I found,” 

“A clue,” Peter spoke.

“It’s not a clue this isn’t some TV adventure it’s just evidence,” Carmen spat. 

I unraveled it revealing a bunch of numbers. I think it’s either a phone number or coordinates. It wasn’t a phone number. I called it and some random Canadian person picked up. So the next option was coordinates.

“Are we sure this is the right place?” Carmen asked. Looking at the stranded house sitting some way down the street.

“If it’s not then oh well,” I shrugged, unhooking my seat belt. 

I leaned down to the slightly cracked passenger window. 

“Do not get out of this car.” I spat through my teeth. Neither of them knew how to listen and I had to let them know I meant business. 

I started towards the house, the gravel crunching under my feet before I turned back again.

“I mean it!” I called out before sprinting back into the house. 

The door creaked open as I pushed it open and I turned back to keep it from closing. The second I did it I knew it was the wrong decision to make. Literally anyone who knew anything about anything knew to not turn their back on unknown territory.

  I was being restrained by some invisible force that wasn’t invisible for long. There were scarlet or crimson waves making my tingle.

 It was more of a tickling feeling than a burning one. That feeling faded into another soon. I clamped my eyes shut, it felt like someone was using my head as a bowl using a spoon to try to scrape my brains out.

 I ended up overpowering whatever force was holding down my arms to hold my head. It was excruciating putting my hand there only made it worse. As soon as I made contact with the skin that loud siren noise like nails on a chalkboard racking through my brain caused me to double over in pain. I saw two legs above me and I heard someone’s voice saying.

“Wanda? What’s going on out there?” 

My vision blurred as I tried to swat at who was allegedly Wanda Maximoff the telekinetic girls legs. The one person I didn’t want to run into was over here melting my brain. I pushed myself up. I think I couldn’t really feel my muscles. I know for a fact my back hit something or maybe something hit my back. 

I heard more footsteps nearby and hushed whispers followed by a who are you and what do you want. I probably would’ve answered if I could but I don’t think I had the current ability to form a coherent sentence. 

“She doesn’t look like one of theirs. How do we know she’s here to hurt us?” I heard someone say. 

“I don’t know I can’t read her,” A voice I hadn’t heard before spoke. 

“What’s that mean?” 

I was stuck in place again. I couldn’t really see and I could feel anything but the tearing of my brain in half and the presence of another body in the room. My eyes were closed but I felt them get closer to me. Too close for my liking. My eyes shot open as soon as I heard. 

“Y/N?” 

I tried my best to lift my head to meet the redhead's eyes. 

“You know her Romanoff?” I heard the first guy from before speak. 

“Sort off?” She shrugged and reached out to pull me up to a sitting position. I let her. 

Romanoff. This was Natasha Romanoff aka Black Widow. She was here with Wanda along with who was most likely Captain America and she knew my name. 

“How-“ I swallowed some of my spit because of how dry my throat is. “How do you know my name?” 

She answered my question with a question of her own. 

“How’d you find this place? Most importantly why?” 

“I asked you first,” I narrowed my eyes. 

She had the audacity to chuckle at my statement. 

I glared at her which turned into some sort of staring contest until it was interrupted by some wannabe comedian.

“Are we interrupting some family reunion here or…” 

I flipped off the general direction of the voice off on instinct. 

Taglist: 

@tomdiddlyumptious​

[nalgenewhore]

evil woman - two

TW: Drug Use, Drug Abuse, Addiction, Cheating 

It had been a couple weeks since Aelin’s birthday and Elide could count on one hand how many times she had been outside her apartment. 

She had opened the door for Rowan and that was only because he used his key and practically force fed her. 

Now he was aggressively washing dishes that he deemed too ‘dusty’, as she had only ordered takeout, not finding it in her to cook for herself. It just reminded her of how they used to spend evenings in his kitchen, far too happy and deliriously in love. Those were the good days, where he woke up with clear eyes and music flowing from his fingertips, the ones where he would pluck gentle melodies on the beat-up guitar he refused to give up, insisting that it was his lucky charm and had been there from the start. Elide would laugh and smile, tricking herself into thinking that this time it would last, this time would be the one where he realized that the other side of him was hurting her and would tell her that he was home forever. 

Those good days started slipping away from him and Elide spent her time hoping for another one. 

The bad days got worse and worse and became bad weeks, then bad months. He would stay out all night, would ignore her calls and texts, turned off his location. That old guitar went back in its case and shoved into a storage unit. His eyes became glazed with a cocktail of substances and Elide couldn’t remember the times she waited up with him, the times she stuck her fingers down his throat, how many times she held him as he sobbed, holding back her own tears as he shook and sweated on the tiled floor of their bathroom, the times she put up with the slew of nastiness he spewed everywhere. 

It shamed her. How long she had stayed, how long she had let her life go this way. 

That day she hopped on a plane to surprise him had been her last attempt at waiting for him. She told herself as she packed a bag, that if nothing changed, if he was still like that, she would leave that frozen montage her life had become and be able to breathe again. Be able to be happy. 

It was a blessing disguised as heartbreak. 

“Ro,” she said, “the dishes are clean.” 

“They aren’t.” 

“Yes they are, why can’t you just-” 

“Relax? Or be like you, lazy and uncaring?” His voice was harsh and cold and she didn’t know it would hurt this bad to have those words thrown at her. 

Elide raised her chin, staring down her nose at him, refusing to let him see the tears that threatened to well in her eyes. “Go home, Rowan.” 

Rowan’s icy fury cracked and a puff of air escaped his lips, “I- I didn’t mean that, Ellie, it wasn’t about you.” 

“Go home” she repeated, standing and walking past him to her room. Her door slammed shut behind her. 

Elide sat herself on the edge of the bed, looking down at her hands. She heard a shuffling noise and then Rowan’s voice, “I, I’m sorry, El. That wasn’t my place. There’s food in the fridge and I’ll call in the morning, alright? Bye.” She didn’t say anything, too stubborn to speak to him.

There was the sound of receding footsteps and then the door closed behind him. 

Elide let the tears slip down and after a moment or two, her sadness and desperation turned to white-hot anger. 

He had ruined everything. 

He wasn’t even around anymore and still, he was this huge shadow hanging over everybody’s head. He was the monster hiding in her closet, he was the demon that made her cower under her duvet. 

After her anger left her, she felt hollow and decided that she should probably eat something so she moved out to the kitchen, opening the fridge and finding it in herself to smile at the food Rowan had left, all of her favourites. 

She took a seran-wrap covered plate of pasta and threw the plastic into the trash, placing the pasta in the microwave and viciously stabbed her finger into the numbered buttons. Elide walked to her living room as the food was being heated, a note on the coffee table catching her eye. 

It had Rowan’s scratchy scrawl and she flipped it open, scanning the words. 

Ellie, 

I didn’t want to tell you, but L’s doing an interview tonight @ 7 with NTNS . It’s the first since the breakup, I’ll be watching so if you don’t end up doing so, I can tell you what happened. There’s food in the fridge and water in the jug. 

-R

A niggling voice told her not to watch it, to take her pasta and get back to bed, but enough was enough. 

She wouldn’t let him have this hold over her anymore. She’d told him he ruined her and now, now it was time to heal. 

Crumpling the note in her hand and letting it fall to the ground, she sat herself on the couch and picked up the remote, the channel already set to the show hosting the interview. 

Her breath hitched as the intro music played and Lorcan walked out across the stage, a smile, something completely unnatural and forced, splayed over his lips. Despite the lie he wore, he looked good, but then again, he’d looked good at Aelin’s and nearly every time she saw him before that. 

The audience cheered and clapped for him and it nearly made her see red. He did not deserve their applause, did not deserve their praise. 

She forced herself to breathe, This anger will only make it hurt more, breathe. 

Elide closed her eyes, imagining that she inhaled cold, blue air and exhaled hot, red air that took away her troubles. When she opened her eyes again and they focused on the TV, Lorcan was sitting in the chair, leaning back, his legs spread open. “Yeah, thanks, it’s good to be back,” he said. 

The host nodded and then his face grew grave, “Now, Lorcan, all of your fans, we’ve been wondering, how’s this past year been for you, after your break?” 

Elide saw the way his eyes shuttered, saw him shift like he was about to lie, but then, “Um, I’m not gonna lie to you guys, it’s been tough, really tough. I struggled a lot and I think it’s, ah, it’s starting to look up so…” 

“Well, that’s great, we’re all super happy for you, it’s been a rough-go lately, what with your ex and the cheating scandal-” 

“You know, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to come here tonight,” Lorcan interjected, running his hand through his hair, a nervous habit of his. Elide resented that she still knew his tics and habits. 

The host nodded, his face portraying slight surprise, “Of course, the floor’s all yours, Lorcan.” 

“So as you all know, my fiancée and I broke up about a year ago,” three-hundred and twenty seven days to be exact, “and there were a lot of rumours going around and they’re partly my fault because I didn’t deny any of the claims which led to people taking them as the truth.” He took a large breath, “They aren’t true. I was the one in the wrong, I was the unfaithful one, on multiple occasions, not the other way around. I hurt her, more than I’ve ever hurt another being, and she had had enough.” 

The audience and host gasped as Lorcan nodded, confirming the words he said. 

Elide was frozen on the spot, not able to move as he admitted everything, on live television, with thousands of viewers. The microwave beeped, but still, she could not move. 

Lorcan went on, “That moment of her leaving, I think that was really rock bottom for me. I’m ashamed that it took her reaching her breaking point for me to realize this mess that was my life. So,” he said, bobbing his head in a sort-of nodding manner but not quite, “I got sober and started to try and fix things.” 

“Oh, you guys are back together, that’s wonderful-”

Lorcan let out a harsh laugh, “Oh, gods, no. No, she’s not really the type of woman that gets her heart broken and comes crawling back,” he paused for a moment, “and I wouldn’t want her any other way.” 

The host tilted his head to the side, “Some might say it’s better to forgive and forget.” 

“Hm.” It was clear Lorcan did not agree and Elide had to stop herself from laughing. “It’s, it’s not as simple as that. It’s not a fairytale romance, it’s gritty and painful and she’s still hurting because of it. It wasn’t exactly easy for her either, this past year.” 

“Well, you know,” the host started, spreading his hands and Elide just knew she wouldn’t like what he was saying, “there is a risk in all relationships you enter, it’s not like you meant to hurt her. And she left you.” 

Lorcan frowned for a second, his hands curling into loose fists and she sat up, her eyes widening and she silently begged Hellas to control him, to not let his spitfire temper catch a spark. “I don’t really think that my intentions mattered because I did cause her pain, regardless of what I wanted to do. It’s not hard to leave when you’ve been driven out by your partner. The blame lies fully with me.” 

“Do you think there’s any hope for you two?” 

He sighed heavily, tilting his head to the side, “I-I don’t really know. I’ll always love her, but obviously, it’s not up to me. If it was, I would undo everything I did and we’d have never broken up.” 

“I think I can say for everyone here at NTSN and, I’m sure, our lovely viewers at home, we wish you the best of luck, Lorcan.” Elide hated the host’s voice, slick and oily. “Now, I know you had something you wanted to share with us, something about new music?” 

Lorcan nodded, “Yeah, ah, it was originally just a passion project I wrote in rehab and when I got out I played the song for my friend and she basically told me she would skin me alive if I didn’t write her an entire EP so here we are.” There was a grin tugging at his rosy lips, a twinkle of something playful in his eyes and Elide just knew the friend had been Aelin. 

That little spark in his dark eyes had her remembering, remembering everything good about them. How on rainy mornings when neither of them wanted to get up, he would hold her tightly against him or how they would stay in the shower until the water ran cold, too busy to notice when they were caught up in each other. Late at night, she would find him in the kitchen, shirtless as he made waffles or maybe French toast if he was feeling jumpy. Lazy afternoons spent basking in the sun and then he would jump up, his fingers itching to create something beautiful. 

He called her his muse, his inspiration. The only thing keeping him going, he told her. Everything, everything… was all for her. 

Blinking back tears, she focused back on the screen that showed the love of her life because despite herself, despite every single thing that had happened, that would never go away. A part of her soul would always be his. 

The audience was clapping as he was handed a guitar and spent a couple moments tuning it before he picked out a gentle, lovely, melody and sang. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Lorcan quelled the shaking in his hands as he passed the guitar off, offering a fake grin and nod to the cheering audience. They had eaten up the song, chanting Encore when he let the last note ring out and the cameras cut for a commercial break. An attendant came to grab the guitar he had never touched a day before in his life. It didn’t sound right, hadn’t sounded right any time he’d played it. 

Aelin, Fenrys, even Rowan, who hadn’t forgiven him, Rowan, who had crossed his arms and glowered at him every time they saw each other, told him it was perfect and that she would love it. But Lorcan knew it wouldn’t reach perfection until he played it on that beat up guitar, his and her initials carved into the neck, until she told him it was. 

“In five, four, three, two…” the lights came back on and he plastered that uncomfortable smile back on his lips, nodding as the audience cheered and the host praised him. 

“I’m going to have to say that may be my new favourite song of yours, that snippet you played was beautiful, just beautiful. Now, um, when you reached out to us for the interview, you told us you had some rather important news to share?” 

His heartbeat quickened and his hands became clammy. Lorcan nodded, swallowing past his tight throat. “Yes, I, ah, I wanted to share with you that this album will be my last. It’s been a journey and it’s time for me and my music to say goodbye.” 

The audience and host gasped theatrically, “Surely you’re not talking about retirement?”

“It’s been a long while since I’ve been home and I realized that everything I need was right where I was. I’ve been chasing something for a long time and I never knew what it was until I lost her. It’s time for me to say goodbye and let a new kid dazzle you all.” 

Forty-five minutes later, Lorcan was standing on his balcony, his forearms braced against the railing as he watched the busy streets of Orynth move. His hands shook and he wished for something, a drink or cigarette, anything to take the trembling away. He gritted his teeth and sipped from the glass of water next to him, hearing his phone blow up as it had been all night after his retirement announcement. 

His phone started ringing with a ringtone he didn’t remember so he picked it up, not recognizing the number calling him. He accepted the call and held it to his ear, “Hello?” 

“Hey. It’s... me.”

+*+*+*+*+*+*

im not even sorry 🤷‍♂️ thank u @westofmoon​ 4 helping me bounce ideas n stuff 💛💛💛 and @shyvioletcat​ for being my lovely lil beta again!! 

@myfeyrelady​ @kandasboi​ @schmlip-scribble​  @the-regal-warrior​ @westjades​ @empire-of-wildfire​ @rhysands-highlady​ @city-of-fae​ @shyvioletcat​ @alifletcher2012​ @tangledraysofsunshine​ @ttakeit @tswaney17​ @ourbooksuniverse​ @flora-and-fae​ @ella-enchanted27​ @noodlecatposts​ @cridhe-teine​ 

[sherrybaby14]

Forever

Prompt:  Stucky x reader A/B/O and dark! A/B/O

Summary:  You ran away from your Alphas and they find you.  (I’m a sucker for the runaway trope as well).  

Words:  2500 (I make my drabbles too long!)

Warnings:  A/B/O dynamics,  dub-con, SMUT!

Did you leave the stove on?  No, of course not.  You couldn’t remember the last thing you ate that wasn’t a microwave meal.  Maybe you left a window open.  The last time you opened a window was in October, when a random hot day hit.  All winter you were constantly checking the locks.

A neighbor must have stopped by.  Why?  You glanced to your left and your right.  Both houses had their lights on.  You couldn’t even remember their names.

They were too busy cooking meth or yelling at each other in the yard to pay attention to your dilapidated state of affairs.  

Two months in this place.  It was time to move again.  Find another shithole to live in.  That was all, just nerves of settling in too long.  

Your neck ached.  You tried to stretch it as you held your key out and walked up to your house.  There was a high school football game tonight and the diner was packed.  You’d lifted too many heavy trays.  

Once you got inside you would take off the waitress uniform and head straight for the tub.  Extra salts.  That would relax you.  

You let your mind wander about new places to move.  The slum landlord wouldn’t miss you.  He obviously didn’t care about your neighbors broken beer bottles all over your lawn.

Maybe a new place would be better.  You started to fantasize about what that could mean as you unlocked the door.    

Crunch.  You heard it as soon as you walked inside.  Your hand went to the switch and you flipped on the light.  

Steve was right in front of you.  A pill bottle in his hand as he crushed the remainder under his boot.  RUN! Instincts took over and you took a step back and turned, slamming into a hard body.  

You bounced back, but didn’t hit the floor as strong arms reached out and grabbed you, holding you up.  

Without looking you up knew it was Bucky, his hands digging into your arms harder than necessary.  The ache in your neck started throbbing and you realized it wasn’t from the tray, it was your fading claims coming back to life with your Alphas so near.  

Bucky leaned his head into your neck and inhaled.  The action brought a calm to your tiring bond and you almost wanted to sink into him, apologize and have them take you home.  

No.  Biology wasn’t fair.  This wasn’t you, this was the Omega needs.  You tried to shove him away, knowing it was a pointless gesture.  Bucky let out a growl and lifted his head.  

There was nothing but anger in hid blue eyes as he narrowed them down on you.  

“You’ve been very naughty Doll.”  Bucky opened his mouth and your blood pressure spiked.  

“No!  Don’t!”  You tried to push away, but his teeth landed in the exact same spot as his old claim and he wasted no time sinking them into your flesh.  

“Ahhh!”  You tried to twist away as the pain spiked followed by a strange sense of relief.  

The bond had a mind of its own and was happy to be renewed.  You let out a sob though.  Almost a year, it barely bothered you anymore, but breaking away from them had been a painful detox and you didn’t think you could start at square one any longer.  

Bucky lifted his head.  There was blood on his lips and teeth as he licked them.  You brought your hand to his mark and felt the wetness.  He let go and you tumbled backward, but again you smacked into a hard body.  

Steve wasted no time finding his own mark and renewing the bond.  You whimpered this time as your body went in a different direction from your mind.  

Your heart was fluttering with excitement at the reunion.  There was a dampness growing between your legs too.  All of the un-attended to heats over your time apart wanting answers and fulfillment.  

It hadn’t taken over yet though.  You were still capable of having a thought not controlled by your nature.  

“Get the car.”  Steve turned you around and flung you over his shoulder.  

Your head hung upside down as he went and grabbed a bag on the thread bare couch.  The gravity didn’t help your tears as they rolled down your forehead instead of cheeks.  

“Why?”  You whispered.  “They were fading.”  

In fact, you almost stopped worrying about this moment happening.  They could’ve claimed another Omega by now and continued on without you.  

“Because you’re ours.”  Steve’s voice was emotionless as he flipped off the light and walked outside.  

You pinched your eyes shut and pretended this wasn’t happening.  But that only allowed you to pay attention to the physical response.  Your claims were throbbing, but not with pain.  You could feel their saliva mixing with your blood, igniting a fire that had gone dormant.  

It was spreading all over your body, like a drug or a virus and soon you were going to be a complaint, whimpering mess for them.  Your Alphas were aware of that fact too.  Aware wasn’t the right word, welcomed it fit better.  

“I hate you.”  The lights from the car flashed ahead of you.  

Steve let out a growl.  THWACK!  He smacked your ass, hard.  You cried out, not expecting that response.  

Instead of stopping at the back door Steve went to the trunk.  Your heart flared and you tried to claw off of him.  

“Relax.”  Steve gripped you harder.  “Thought you deserve it.”  

He dropped the black bag in the trunk and slammed it shut.  

“Thank you.”  You cringed at your response.  

“That’s better Doll.”  Steve opened the back door and tossed you on the seat.  He rounded to the passengers side and got in.  

“You didn’t buckle her in?”  Bucky looked at Steve.  

It was like nothing had changed.  You still weren’t even there to them.  Your hand went to the handle.  

“Child locks.”  Steve buckled his own safety belt.  “Don’t bother trying.  Buckle up.”  

The Omega inside you purred at the instruction, listen to your Alpha, he’ll keep you safe.  But it made you sob.  Still you did as you were told, silently hoping the car did crash and you had another chance at escape.  

“It hurts.”  You clung to the sheets as you thrashed on the bed.  “I have to go back.  Please, I want to go back.”

“Shhhh.” A wet cloth was pressed to your forehead.  “It will pass in a day or two. You’re in the worst of it now.”  

Your handler looked down at you and gave a sympathetic smile.  You’d trusted her, trusted the network, but this was not what they told you would happen.  You tried to lash out at her, but your wrists and ankles were bound to the bed and the older Omega was too far to bite.  

“LET ME GO!”  You screamed and arched your back in agony.  

It was like the bond was a spirit inside of you raging at the separation.  Punishing you for being away from your Alphas this long.  

“I’ve been there before Y/N.”  She looked unfazed. “It will get better and you’ll be free.”  

She stood up and left the room as another wave of pain made hit your gut.  

The cramp from your memory became real in the backseat of the car and your pressed your thighs together.  

“How much longer to the room?”  Steve shifted in front of you.

“I can smell her too.”  Bucky hit the gas harder.  “I’m going as fast as I can.”  

They wanted you.  They were going to have you.  It made more juices pool at your core.  You pinches your eyes and shook your head, not wanting your biology to take over, but your reserve was already slipping.  

“Why?”  You asked the question again.  “You could’ve let me go, found another.”  

You reached forward and grabbed the back of Steve’s seat to brace yourself as another cramp formed.  The bond was spreading, they were taking over your body all over again.  Putting you right back in the place you never wanted, never chose, never belonged.  

“Because you’re ours.”  Bucky gave the same answer Steve had.  

The response did nothing to quell your fears.  They called you Doll, because that’s all you were to them.  But you should have been replaceable.  The only reason they hunted you down was to satisfy some Alpha ego trip.  

The car turned into a parking lot of a flea bag motel.  This was not their style, but there was hardly a Hilton in this middle-Of-nowhere town.  Bucky barely slowed down when he pulled into the parking space.  

Your body was turning into an inferno, you could literally feel it spreading up your face.  As soon as it reached your brain you were a goner.  How long until you came down?  A day?  Probably more like a week.  

Bucky killed the engine and both Alphas jumped out of the car.  Steve opened your door and unbuckled your belt.  He lifted you out of the car and carried you while Bucky pulled out the keys.  

“You’ve been very naughty.”  Steve glared at you.  “Don’t think all is forgiven.  But you need this right now.”  

“I don’t want it.”  You started to shake, like your soul was trying to tell you to shut up. “I don’t want…”

“But you need us.”  Steve interrupted with a warning. “Do you know we felt you?  What you were doing to yourself?  We thought you were kidnapped.”  

You looked away, feeling shame.  How could you leave them?  You were slipping.  These feelings thoughts, they weren’t yours.  They were your nature trying to take over after being denied so much the last year.  You took in a breath, as if you were slipping underwater and needed one final gulp of air.  

The warmth of your body became all encompassing and you wiggled against Steve.  He was your protector, he was your leader, he was your Alpha.  

“I’m sorry.”  You reached up and touched his cheek.  “Alpha, please.”  

Steve seemed to relax and looked at your with approval.   Bucky opened the door to the room and Steve walked you inside.  

“Undress.”  He set you on the bed.  

Bucky was already taking off his shirt as he kicked the door closed.  Memories of how sculpted the man was didn’t do him justice.  

“NOW Omega.”  Steve’s voice jarred you.  

Your hands went to the button of your waitress uniform and you started undoing them, the clothing feeling scratchy against your hot skin.  

“Working?  Living in a place like that?  Alone?”  Bucky glared at you.  “Taking suppressants?”  

“I’m sorry.”  You started to tear up.  “Please, forgive me.”  

“Buck, she’s in heat.  Now’s not the time for a lecture.”  Steve came behind you and yanked off the dress. “We’ll deal with the punishments when she comes down.”  

You let your head lull back against Steve, so grateful he took the dress off of you.  You looked up at him and puckered your lips, wanting to give him a kiss, but his jaw hardened and he shook his head making you whimper.  

You didn’t deserve kisses.  Bucky grabbed the rest of your uniform, drawing your attention back to him as he pulled the rest off, buttons flying everywhere.  

The action made you lift your hips and Bucky did away with your panties at the same time Steve unclasped your bra.  You moaned, the cool air on your skin welcoming.  

Bucky dropped to his knees and kissed up your thighs.  Steve grabbed your hips and lifted you up.  When he lowered you his cock was at your entrance.  Your eyes rolled back into your head as he split you, the empty feeling in your soul finally being answered.  

“I missed you.” Steve dropped his head and started sucking at his claim.  

The small affection mixed with the feel of his renewed bond made you purr.   Bucky let out a growl and you looked down at him.  He arrived at your center right when Steve stretched you to your fullest.  

His eyes were on you while his tongue found your clit.  He flicked it twice before sucking it into your mouth.  You twitched and squealed.  

Steve started flexing underneath you, making you slightly bob up and down his shaft while Bucky moved his head with your body, pulsing against your most sensitive bud.  

You never understood how they were capable of moving like this.  Bucky’s tongue swirled and Steve’s hands slid up your hips to your stomach and breasts.  He started kneading and pinching, all the while giving deep pushes inside your pussy.  

It was too much and too little all at the same time.  You needed more, more of them.  But you’d been so bad.  You didn’t deserve them.  

It should be you on all fours, with Steve railing into you while Bucky’s cock rammed into your throat.  It should be brutal, they should use you however they liked for what you’d put them through.  But here you were, the center of their world.  

“We’ll do that position too Doll.”  Steve’s voice carried a smile.  

It warmed your core.

“Am I speaking out loud?”  Your head fell back against Steve.  

“Tell us how this feels.”  Steve pinched down on your nipples making you jerk and moan.  “Tell us Omega.”  

“Like I don’t deserve you.”  You ran your hands through Bucky’s hair.  

He responded by pressing his tongue harder against your clit and humming.  

“Ehh!”  You formed fists against his locks, needing something to grab on to.  

“Keep going.”  Steve flexed harder, filling you almost to the point of pain.  

“Like I’ll be good.  I’ll be good for you, if you let me.”  You wanted to please them, needed to please them.  “Like I’m your Omega.  Always.”  

The admission brought a pulse to your bond and you were rewarded with a growing coil in your stomach.  

“Like I should have never left.  Like my place is with you.  Like I should listen to everything you say.  Like I belong to you.”  The coil tightened.  

Bucky growled in approval, sending another vibration to your clit.  Steve started flexing faster, giving the friction you needed.  

“Forever.”  You moved your hips at little as you could.  

Then you felt Steve’s teeth sink deeper into his claim.  It brought a pain, but the sensation was enough you fell over the edge, screaming and panting.  

You saw stars as your toes curled.  The heat flushed away, replaced with a cooling sensation.  Sweat broke out over your entire body.  

“Fuck you taste better than I remembered.”  Bucky’s mouth left your clit.  

You moaned at his absence, but Steve dropped one of his hands and pressed down in Bucky’s tongue’s place.  Then he lifted you up in the air and spun around.  

Bucky climbed on the bed and you found yourself on all fours.  You opened your mouth and relaxed your jaw as his cock pressed passed your lips.  Steve rubbed circles on your pearl while he started ramming in from behind.  

This was perfect.  This was where you belonged.  

“Forever.”  

[legitlaur]

One Kiss

Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: First time writing in like 2 months and awkwardness

Summary: Bc of endgame I feel like we need some good old everyone lives at the tower and everyone is happy fluff. so that’s basically what this is. You have a major crush on Steve and he orders you a burrito lol

Background: You were a hacker, so talented it took SHIELD 20 hours to realize their system had been infiltrated. Agent Hill told Fury that you could be a real asset. During the fight against Ultron you were able to track most if not all the robots, you informed the team when they had successfully wiped out all the Ultrons. Currently, you find mercenaries and anything that enters the Earth’s atmosphere. Generally, you gather a strike team and lead the mission through coms, while Steve leads on the ground.

You were working in the kitchen, hoping that someone would come in and make some dinner you could steal. You were able to hack secret government agencies but not able to make anything beyond microwavable ramen.

You moved into the tower with the Avengers, now that SHIELD was gone. And you needed the second best satellites and wifi. You changed the entire mainframe of Tony's system to connect your laptop to his satellites. Once you were in, you could hack into nearly anything.

As of right now, you were keeping an eye out on any remaining HYDRA agents. Steve and Nat were hoping to build up a new SHIELD but not until all of HYDRA was gone. With Furys Project Insight it could’ve been done in the click of a button. Steve, however, deleted all of the software. You’ve managed to steal a glimpse at the algorithm before it was lost forever. You repurposed it and waited for notifications on facial recognition.

You pulled your hood over the back of your head and popped in an earbud. Out of boredom, you checked the security of the tower. If you were able to hack it when you were just a kid, whos to say one of Peter Parker's genius friends, or someone not so nice couldn’t do the same.

You worked on some new code and made a quick call to Tony asking for permission to make some changes. He as always was looking forward to your improvements. Just as you were getting into your groove, you saw Steve walk into the kitchen. You pulled the strings of your hoodie so your face was more concealed. It was hard being around someone so perfect, just one look at him made anyone self-conscious.

“Y/n? What are you doing?” He asked.

Even his voice made it difficult for you to speak, “Umm. I found a few flaws in our security so I’m just fixing it.”

Steve opened the fridge, “Tony's got some competition,” He noticed the scared look on your face, “That was a compliment. It's good for him to be kicked off his imaginary throne.”

You smiled, “Thanks?”

“There's never any food in this place,” He slammed the fridge shut.

You loosened your hood and took out your earbuds. Quietly you informed him why “I may have gone through the food supply and threw out anything that was expired. Also, Thor was here a few  days ago, I’m pretty sure he eats like five times our calorie intake.”

Steve sat down next to you, “Well at least someone's cleaning up around here. Wanna order in?”

Your heart was thumping, “No Chinese. Every time the kid is here we order Chinese. I don’t think I can eat another dumpling ever.”

He picked up the phone, “You like burritos right.”

You nodded, somehow the freezer was always stocked full of microwave burritos. You would eat them when you're stressed. Which was quite often.

You moved your hair behind your ear, “You, you notice that?”

Steve laughed, it made the butterflies in your stomach flap around frantically, “Of course. It’s hard not to notice you-” “What?” Your face burned.

He ran his hands through his gelled hair, “Your always wearing headphones and so zoned into your work you don’t notice anything. One time Sam and Bucky had a full-on brawl, they even broke the table. You didn’t look off your screen. When you work your so concentrated that nothing could break your attention.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Luckily he continued.

“That’s why you’re so easy to notice because crazy stuff happens around here. They watch the crazy stuff, then turn to you and see if you react,” he chuckled, “Barton and Bucky have a continuing bet going. Every time you don’t react Clint pays a dollar.  I think since you moved in Buck has inherited $200.”

“You’re joking.”

He fixed his posture, “I never joke. I’m Captain America.”

You punched his shoulder, “Seriously though.”

“It’s all true,” he saluted, “scouts honor.”

Before you knew it, you were having dinner with Steve Rogers. Heck, you were flirting with him.

“I’m glad you live here. It’s nice having someone who’s not crazy around. Keeping some of the egotistical people where they truly belong.”

Your face went a brighter red, “Wow,” you weren’t sure how to respond to that, “But if I'm gonna be honest I’m pretty crazy.”

You were crazy, crazy in love with Steve Rogers.

He smiled, the butterflies in your stomach fluttered their wings faster. You stuffed a mouthful of burrito in your mouth trying to not make things so awkward. He continued talking and you thanked anyone above for that.

Wiping the remaining crumbs from his face Steve stood up, “So do you wanna go to the lounge or do you need to finish proving to Tony your better than him again?”

You shut your laptop, “Lounge, I already finished the security system.” This was a lie, you just wanted to sit by Steve in a dark room.

Your shoulders continually brushed against each other as you walked. The hallway seemed notable more narrow than the other thousands of times you’d walked through them. Even when you were Bucky, who if it's even possible might be broader than Steve, was able to walk next to you in this hall. You picked up the pace, feeling the awkward tension increase. Steve pressed the elevator button when the door opened Natasha was in leaning against the wall.

“Where are you two heading,” She asked.

Steve let you go in first, then answered, “The lounge.” Nat pressed 3 for you guys. The tension had been lifted, you planned to thank her later. She was talking and joking around with you guys. Steve seemed to be lightening up even more. His posture wasn’t as stiff and his arms hung at his sides rather than crossed against his chest.

The lounge consisted of the comfiest couch’s money could buy, blankets everywhere and an extremely large flat screen. There was also a bar area and a few small tables. If there was a party in the facility it would be in the kitchen because of food, or the lounge.

Tony and Bruce were sitting on the couch watching the Discovery Channel. You sat down at the bar, hoping Steve would catch the hint. You’re stomach knotted as you waited for him to sit. He said hi to Tony and Bruce, rather than sitting next to you he went behind the bar.

“What can I get you?” He flirted, or at least you thought he was flirting.

Gushing with embarrassment you answered, “Old Fashion”

Steve looked surprised.

“What kinda drink did you expect from me?” you asked quite offended.

He pulled out a glass, “Well I definitely didn’t take you for an Old Fashion, I'll be honest I was thinking you were more of a straight tequila person.”

You sat up eating up his opinions of you, “Those are only for breakups and really stressful times actually.”

He nodded, seeming to make a mental note while making your drink.

You got extremely drunk, to the point where Bruce and Tony had to leave in order to feel sane.

Steve was sitting next to you laughing and talking and drinking. You finished another drink and asked him in a slurred way“How much for the drinks bartender?”

Without missing a beat Steve answered, “One kiss.”

Even being drunk this shocked you. You pinched yourself, this could easily be another one of your Steve Rogers fantasy dreams. But it wasn't, it was real. You watched him move his chair closer and felt him gently put his hand on your waist.

This was it your moment. You were going to kiss Steve Rogers. Both of you leaned it, you went for the right and when your lips met symphonies went off in your head. This was more than just a kiss. This was the build-up of all the sexual tension and lust for one another pushed into one moment.

One kiss.

You ran your hands up and down his button-up shirt. His hand held your face close, while the other pulled on your hair. You stood up, he followed. This quickly became unconventional because of the height difference. Steve lifted you against the wall. You wrapped your arms around his waist for support. You violently began unbuttoning his shirt. Finally, it was off, you stared in awe. You’d seen this angelic man shirtless before, but never in this state. His lips left yours, only to find them going down your neck.

“Pay up.” A voice called.

Steve let go of you instantaneous. You both turned to the voice, Bucky and Sam were standing in the doorway.

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” Steve began to explain.

You were devastated. Had that been nothing more than a kiss to him? Nothing but filling a void? Were you just an object to him, a toy to be played with?

“What was it then Steve?” You shouted and stormed out.

After no one could see you, the tears came through and you burst into a run. No one could see you in this state. The elevator ride seemed the longest, you prayed no one would join you. Once you got to your floor unseen you ran to the safety and comfort of your room.

Where you planned to stay forever.

You laid in tearstained pillows and wrapped in a blanket trying to understand what just happened. Instead of that being the best moment of your life, it quickly escalated to one of the worst. The heartbreak, and the embarrassment. It was all too much, you wouldn’t live here anymore, you couldn’t stand to see him every day. Knowing that he was using you. You were going to tell Tony as soon as you pulled yourself together.

There was a knock at the door. This couldn’t get any worse.

You heard the door open, “y/n?” Steves warm voice called.

Your stomach tightened, it seems it could get worse, “Don’t, Steve.”

You kept your body facing the wall, “Please listen. I never meant to hurt you, I didn’t mean it like that when I said it.”

“What else could you have meant, clearly it was just a drunk kiss. It doesn’t even matter anymore,” You barked.

He sat on your bed, “Will you please just look at me. I, I’m trying to tell you something serious and I can’t because I’m staring into those beautiful y/e/c eyes.”

You tried your best to wipe away your tears. Slowly you sat up and turned to him. He was wearing his usual white tank top, his face looked stressed and his hair was a mess.

“Did you just call my eyes beautiful?”

He leaned closer to you, gingerly he cupped my cheek in his hands. Using his thumb he wiped away the rest of the tears, “Yes. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot of girls.” He winked, “I’m not sure if you’ve heard but I was alive during World War 2.”

You smacked his arm, “Calling me the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen isn’t going to help you out here. Our kiss wasn’t what it looked like remember.”

He frowned, “y/n you have no idea how much I wish I could take that back. But in a sense it was true, I honestly didn’t want that to be how anyone found out.”

“Found out what?” You interrupted.

His eyes looked away from you, “That I like you.”

Steve Rogers. Captain America liked you. How was this even possible? You were clearly dreaming.

“Slap me!”

Steve’s face looked shocked, “Excuse me?”

“Just slap me. I need to know this is real,” you explained.

Steve laughed, “y/n this is real. Can’t you see, you make me laugh. You drive me crazy.”

You were smiling so wide, “Wake me up captain,” you smoothed your voice, “one kiss.”

[michael-langdon-appreciation]

Girrrlll, can you imagine the reader and Jim have a big fight its just nasty so she just leaves and Jimmy is devastated and goes to what he knows best, them drugs, at one point hes just to fucked up and endes up with Heather in his room. At this point the reader goes back to his house bc she feels bad and decides shes the bigger person and goes to apologize, BUT SHE FINDS THEM HAVING SEX AND IT GOES ANGSTY AF, jimmy is crying, shes crying amd everything goes to hell basically

I have to confess nonnie this has been sitting in my inbox because I didn’t even know how to tackle it. This is so incredible and so sad omg! 😭

The only saving grace Jim Mason has is that his dick hadn’t entered her yet. 

You storm down the hallway of his house, Medina right behind you having been disturbed by the commotion. Jim stumbles everywhere as he gives chase only in his boxers, the ones I bought him. ‘Y/N,’ He screams, ‘PLEASE. I didn’t mean, I didn’t know I-’

Medina turns round and shoves her twin back with so much force he clatters into the family portrait hung on the wall. The glass spiderwebs and both Jim and the picture slide down the wall, Medina billows like a bull. ‘You’d better not follow us Jim.’ 

Jim’s eyes are focused entirely on me. My wet tears cling to my face, I have never known rage or betrayal such as I do right now, ‘I didn’t realise.�� He moans, a hand reaching out to me. His face is just a shining mess of tears and as I look down at Jim Mason a sense of blankness runs over me. He looks ugly like this, the outside reflecting how fucked up he is inside and I’m better than it. I’m better than wallowing in the drama that is the Mason family. 

I lean over him and Jim pushes up, trying to take my hand in his. He’s begging me with everything he has, ‘It was the…the drugs, Y/N.’ He blubbers, ‘I thought she was you, she lead me on. I would never, not with anyone, you know that right?’ You don’t answer him as you unclip the necklace you gave him a couple months back. Jim seizes my hand, pressing it to his heart. It’s thudding wildly, Jim pressing kisses to the top of my hand. ‘RIGHT?’

His weakness is pathetic, watching him grovel before me only solidifies the dissatisfaction I feel, ‘You made your bed.’ I tell him, ‘Now go lie in it, Heather’s waiting for you.’

He’s back on his feet the second I drop him, ‘No. I’m not letting it end like this.’

Medina takes my hand and flips her brother off, ‘You were about to fuck another girl when you’re with Y/N.’ Her words don’t cut me as deeply as I thought they would. 

We’re outside now, Medina leading me straight to her car. She deposits me in the passenger seat and shuts the door. I hear the lock click into place - smart. Jim could overpower her if it came to that. I can vaguely hear the twins though most of their words are nuanced by wild gestures, Jims scraping away the tears on his cheeks. Mine have started to dry, crusting and leaving their silver trails on my face while I watch them. I can’t bring myself to join in, keeping my eyes on Medina.

I’m lucky to have her. 

Jim’s hands slam down on the car window, his face level with mine. ‘I know I fucked up.’ He said, ‘I thought you’d left me forever.’

‘So you think fucking someone else would work?’ Medina challenges, ‘Fill the void while Y/N’s away? I thought you were better than the Bay Boys, Jim. You’re the worst of them.’

She opens her car and I watch her, trying to ignore the boy plastering himself to the window again. ‘I will never stop fighting to win you back.’ He vows, ‘Never, Y/N. I know you need time but I will fix this.’ 

The engine roars into life, ‘Don’t listen to him.’ Medina says, blasting the radio. 

Jim’s hand thuds against the glass, ‘YOU CAN’T LEAVE ME Y/N. I don’t know what I’ll do!’ I crank the radio higher till Jim’s just a faint scream, ‘I love you.’ He tries, ‘I love you so much and I’m so insecure and I don’t know what I’m doing. I fall apart when you’re not with me. I don’t have a hand on the wheel, I can’t do-’

The car pulls away, leaving Jim behind. I hold it together for about ten minutes, trying to listen in to the radio. Then my exterior breaks, the sobs come in droves and I push my head into my hands. Medina pulls over when we’re far enough away, her hand rubbing over my back, ‘If you don’t kill him I will.’ She promises, ‘Or maybe I’ll kill Heather, or the drugs…I don’t know.’ I can’t speak so I let Medina ramble on as she comes up with new inventive ways to slaughter Jim and Heather, ‘You know Jim may have been in a haze.’ She points out, ‘But Heather that bitch is stone-cold clean. She manipulated him.’

‘He still did it.’ 

Medina’s face falls, ‘Yeah. He doesn’t get a free pass.’

It takes a while for me to get hold of myself again, Medina looks as if she wants to say something, ‘What?’

‘What did you fight about?’ 

‘It was about the fucking microwave.’ I say, ‘Who doesn’t know you don’t put foil in the microwave? There were sparks everywhere.’

Medina’s expression sours, ‘Jim. He doesn’t know anything about cooking. He still burns his toast.’ 

Medina’s phone buzzes and she frowns, ‘It’s you?’

‘Left my phone.’ I admit, ‘We know who it is.’

Jim.

Medina mutes the call, ‘I know it’s so soon but, do you think it’s something you can move past?’ 

I look out the car window, I can still see Jim’s desperate face and the pain finally rears, stinging deep inside my chest. 

I thought he was the one, I thought I had cured him, I thought I knew Jim Mason, ‘No.’ 

YOU HAD SOME PEACEFUL DAYS AND NOW I’M BACK FOR YOU ALL: @alexcornerblog @langdonsoceaneyes @sojournmichael @confettucini @ghostiesbedroom @starwlkers @sodanova @queencocoakimmie @langdonsdemon @satcnas @kinlovecody @sammythankyou

[chicgeekgirl89]

I Could Have Loved You: A SEAL Team Fanfic

Chapter 3

Recommended Listening: Let’s Hurt Tonight by OneRepublic

                                         XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Read Chapters 1-2 Here

She didn’t call that night and Sonny slept fitfully, cold and alone in his bed. He kept reaching for her in his sleep and then waking up when he found she wasn’t there, his heart shattering a little more each time. They’d played with fire. It could only burn for so long before something had to give.

He was irritable all day at work. So irritable that even Brock called him out on it. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked when Sonny aggressively dropped his weights for the hundredth time. 

“Nothing,” Sonny grunted, racking up another set.

He could see Clay watching him out of the corner of his eye but he ignored their rookie team member. His plan was to work himself into a blind exhaustion in the hopes it would make his heart hurt a little less and he didn’t want to talk to a single person about it, except maybe Lisa, and she clearly didn’t want to right now.

Maybe he should get a dog, he thought when he arrived home to a dead quiet apartment for the second night in a row. Some kind of big, manly dog who would get along with Cerb. Like a Great Dane. Or one of those wolf things from Game of Thrones. He looked around the empty space and shook his head. A dog was too much work. Who would watch him during deployments? Maybe a goldfish.

He ate a microwave dinner alone in front of the TV on autopilot, barely even tasting the rubbery chicken and runny potatoes. Sonny of earlier days would have screwed all this and gone straight to the bar or the club, but all he could think about was Lisa. Was she all right? Was she thinking about him? Would she ever speak to him again?

The thought of losing her permanently settled into the pit of his stomach and he set down his crappy dinner feeling sick. She was right. This whole thing had been a mistake. He’d gone too far and he’d lost his best friend.

He picked up his phone, scrolling to her number, thumb hovering over her picture. Then he swiped away and put it down, only to pick it back up again ten seconds later and do the same thing all over again before tossing it to the other side of the couch. He wouldn’t call her. He would give her the space she needed, even if everything inside of him ached without her there. He would give her time and hope that would be enough to at least keep their friendship alive.

Someone was pounding on his door. He woke abruptly from sleep, every nerve ending on hight alert. He squinted, looking down at this phone. Three in the morning. He’d fallen asleep on the couch. He didn’t have any missed calls so it wasn’t Jason or anybody else from the team. God he hoped it wasn’t Mrs. Winkelstein from down the hall looking for help with her cat again. He didn’t mind usually, but at this hour he didn’t feel like trying to coax Mr. Tinkles out from under the bed.

The pounding continued as he walked to the front door. Glancing through the peephole he let out a breath and pulled it open. “Are you all right?“

Lisa’s lips crashed against his and he instinctively drew her close, his hands finding the small of her back and pulling her flush against him without even thinking about it. It had only been a day but he found himself desperate to hold her, to keep her close, and to never, ever let her go away from him again.

She let out a sigh, hands sliding around his neck, opening her mouth, not bothering to pull away for air. His mind whirled through series of possibilities until he felt dizzy and he lost all track of where he was and what was happening. A door slammed down the hall, reminding him that they were neither alone, nor were things completely all right between them. He forced himself to pull back even as Lisa groaned in protest. “Davis, what’s going on?”

She didn’t answer, just grabbed his shirt and pressed her lips to his again. It took a massive amount of his own willpower not to let her continue with whatever she had planned. “Lisa, Lisa, listen,” he said, this time trying to put physical space between them. “Not that I mind a late night make out session but let’s just take a second and regroup, all right?”

“Are you all right?” he asked again once she was settled on the couch. 

“I’m fine. I’m sorry, I should have called first.” Her eyes were red like she’d been crying and she looked exhausted.

“Hey you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re welcome here any time you want to be.” He sat down opposite her, deliberately keeping distance between them. They needed to keep their hands off of each other long enough to sort this out. He was thrilled she was in his apartment and wanted nothing more but to take her to his bedroom and kiss her until dawn, but he had to make sure they were okay before things got all tangled up again and clearly being any less than two feet away from each other was problematic. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Despite her boldness a few minutes ago she looked uncertain now.

“Is that why you came back?” He asked it tentatively, scared of what her answer might be.

She swallowed hard, leaning forward so her elbows rested on her thighs, hands clasped together so tightly her knuckles went white. “I’ve been thinking. A lot. I’m…I’m really scared,” she said, her voice breaking a little, “ because becoming an officer has been my dream for a long time, and I don’t want to do anything to compromise that.”

“I would never ask you to,” he told her. Was that what she’d thought? That he would make her give up her career for him? Oh god, he’d really fucked this one up.

“I know.” She sniffed, tears filling her eyes. “That’s the problem. Because if I had known when I started all of this that it was going to come down to a choice between that and you…” she shrugged helplessly, “I might have chosen you.”

His heart thundered in his chest and his mouth felt dry. It was what he’d wanted so badly to hear. “I don’t know what to do with that,” she said. “I don’t know how to make that feeling go away, or even if I want it to.” She shook her head. “And I want you to be all right when I leave because you mean too damn much to me for me to mess up your life, which means I probably shouldn’t even have come over here.” She was rambling now the words falling fast as the anguish of the last day poured out of her. “But the whole time I was thinking about everything, all I wanted was somebody to talk to about it and the only person I wanted to talk about it with was you. It always comes back to you.”

She looked up at him, and gave a pathetic little laugh. “God Sonny, please say something because I am drowning over here.”

He reached for her hands needing to touch her despite his earlier attempts at distance. “I’m really glad you came back.” If he was ever going to lay it all on the line, this was the moment. “You’re doing something to me Lisa. I never wanted this kind of thing before, but now…now it’s all I want. It’s all I think about.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “I worry about you when you’re hurting. I think about you when you’re gone. And when we’re apart all I want is to get back to you. Hell even when I’m with you all I want is to stay with you.”

If he were a better man he’d let her go now. He’d let her be free before they did irreparable damage to their friendship or their hearts. But she’d been honest with him and he refused to lie to her about how he felt.  

“You scare the shit out of me.” He cleared his throat nervously. “The way I feel about you…I didn’t think it was something that could be real. And I’m not saying I’m ready to leave Bravo and follow you across the country but I guess what I’m feeling is…I kind of wish I was.”

It was a huge admission and he could tell she knew it. “It seems like we’re kind of on the same page here. What we have to decide is if we want to keep going. This thing we’ve got Lisa, it’s more than just a thing to me and I think it is for you too. And if it scares you and makes you want to leave, I’ll respect that. But if you want to stay…I need you to know I want you to. I really, really want you to be here with me.”

He waited, heart pounding in his chest, mouth dry, for her response. She looked up and met his gaze, her eyes full of certainty for the first time in days. “I should walk away. But I—I can’t Sonny. I can’t give you up. I’d rather take a few more weeks together with you and have it hurt like hell after, than not have them at all.” She swallowed hard. “Is that asking too much?”

Sonny’s breath caught in his throat and he couldn’t have looked away even if a bomb exploded. “I would do anything for even five more minutes with you,” he said, his voice low and raspy. 

She leaned forward to kiss him again and this time he didn’t stop her. He almost wanted to cry at the familiarity of his lips on hers, the way she pressed herself against him, how her body felt in his hands. 

She climbed into his lap and if he thought couldn’t breathe before there was absolutely no chance of it now. Fire burned low in his belly. God had it only been one day since they’d been together? It felt like forever since she’d been in his arms. She moved to kiss his neck and he buried his face in her hair, inhaling the sweet smells of lavender and vanilla. Everything about her was soft and warm and sweet and familiar. Being with her felt like coming home.

She pushed him back into the couch straddling his hips. “So, you just got one thing on your mind tonight or what?” he asked breathlessly as she tugged at his shirt.

“Sonny.”

“I’m just saying a guy might get the idea that you’re only interested in one thing.”

“Sonny!”

“Are you at least going to make an honest man out of me after this?”

She sat all the way up and glared at him, chest heaving. “Sonny, if you don’t shut up and start taking your pants off I’m walking back out that door.”

“Well alrighty then.”

[paradoxically-deranged-poet]

Don’t Let Them In

Addiction took our mother slowly, rocked her through it and sung her to sleep sunk deep into the mattress on her bed. When her back teeth fell out, she left them on the side of the bathtub. I was seven, and I kept them in a matchbox, the missing pieces of her kept safe so that she wouldn’t be lost forever. So maybe one day we could put her back together. Our house fell around us, and we tried our best to raise ourselves. The ceilings had water damage, the bottom stairs had dry rot, and in the winters the radiators bled rust. But it was still our house, and Annie made it a home.

My sister Annie mothered me, with lopsided Band-Aids on bruised knees and lukewarm microwave meals. She told me ghost stories and didn’t mind when I crawled into her bed later on, too scared to sleep alone. She taught me to dance, barefoot on the living room carpet, music channel on full volume on the TV shaking our pre-adolescent hips. She always let me shower first so that I could enjoy the hot water, and never complained when she had to make do with the cold. She brushed my hair every day before school, even when I screamed and hit her when she caught the tangles. Annie was dark-haired like her father, whoever he had been, but I was blonde. Annie was desperate to be blonde too, like Marilyn Monroe. Like Mom. I think she thought it would make them closer, remind Mom less of her dad. I’d give anything for her to have her hands in my hair one more time, even if it hurt. She moved to New York when I turned eighteen and never came back. I still dream about her sometimes.

Keeping up with our mother was impossible, and we learned from a young age that we would always be left behind. It didn’t make it any easier. When she was drinking light, she was radiant and would wake us up at 3 am with pancakes dripping in cherry syrup. Sometimes when the weather was right, and she’d had enough being drunk alone, she would call our school up and tell them we had both come down with summer sickness, and we’d drive to the beach instead. I remember being nine years old in the backseat of the car coming home after one of our ocean days, sucking the salt from my fingers. Annie had just dyed her hair blonde, her best friend Jane helping her bend over our kitchen sink. From behind, I couldn’t tell who was the mother and who was the daughter, radio up and windows down, blowing the sky inside.

When she was drinking heavily, she’d be out all night, hair piled up like a beauty queen, eyes glazed over and ringed with glitter and black. Sometimes she’d be gone a day or two. She would never give us advance notice; one day we’d just wake up to an empty house, with the fridge packed full and a post-it note on its door, complete with a smear of Mom’s lipstick in the outline of a kiss, telling us she’d be back soon. Sometimes she’d bring guys home, filling the table with beer cans and ashtrays, smoke up to the ceiling, Mom lost in the haze. We’d sleep with pillows over our heads, trying to drown out the music they would blast all night, and wake up to strangers at our kitchen table in the morning, asking us where we kept the coffee.

When Mom drank too little, she fell apart. She wouldn’t buy food, and the refrigerator went bare. She’d chain smoke, leaving cigarette burns on the wallpaper up by the stairs like the walls were sick and decaying. She barely slept, walking around with blue half-moons under her eyes, knuckles raw. She would scream at the slightest thing. I remember once when I spilled a glass of juice on the couch. She looked over at me with dead eyes and dragged me off onto the carpet and then took every single cushion off the couch and into the back yard and set them on fire. Annie went to watch a while from the window and then sat next to me on the floor, backs pressed against the skeleton of the seats, head resting in the crater of my collar bones.

It was the worst when Mom drank too much. She’d laugh too loudly and too long, at anything and everything, until her mouth started to shake and she began to cry into her cereal at the breakfast table. Annie shut down when Mom was like this, going somewhere deep inside herself where no one could hurt her. She’d stay up until the morning watching old black and white movies on TV, whispering the lines she knew by heart like prayers. When I was five years old, I’d cry when I’d find Mom passed out on her bed, sure she would never wake up. Annie would wipe my tears and tell me she was only sleeping, like the princesses in my storybook. We’d sit on Mom’s bed together and wait for her to wake up. When we were older, I was the one who would pick Mom up off the bathroom floor again and again, and Annie would put her to bed, smoothing her hair off her face, wiping the vomit from her mouth, and changing her clothes if she’d pissed herself. Watching them then, there was no doubt that Annie was the mother now.

It was October, and I was thirteen, Annie sixteen. It was a Wednesday night and Mom had been gone for two days. She’d called us that morning from a payphone, voice slurring, telling us she was having the best time with all her new friends, and that she hoped we were doing fine. When she asked me if I was having a good birthday, I hung up on her. My birthday had been the day before. Annie had given me a pile of presents, strawberry lip gloss and glittery nail polishes. I didn’t ask where she’d gotten the money for them. I didn’t care. We’d taken the bus to the beach with Jane and ate the birthday cake she had made for me, sand getting into the frosting. It tasted like sweetness and the sea, and I savored every bite and scrape of sugar against my teeth. We watched the sun go down, Annie snapping grainy photos on her Nokia as I blew out my candles, wishing over and over that Mom wouldn’t come home, that she’d stay gone this time.

But that Wednesday night, Annie and I weren’t speaking. Anger hung heavy between us, seeping through the floorboards. It began when she tripped at the bottom of the stairs. We’d both laughed, Annie throwing her head back, the gap between her front teeth catching the light. When I’d bent to pick her up, I felt her breath, warm against the freckles on my cheeks. I let go of her arms, and she fell again, hitting the floor and grinning, shaking her hair from her face. Her breath was heavy with whiskey. I couldn’t start picking her up too, couldn’t watch her fall again and again. Just like Mom, I knew she’d never get back up.

I’d stared down at her, blonde hair hanging over her eyes, and all I could see was our mother. Then I was running, feet slamming the hallway like heartbeats turned loose. I’d run for the kitchen and tipped every bottle we had down the sink, shoving Annie back as she fought to stop me, catching liquor on her fingers as it fell. She grabbed my shoulders and made me drop the very last bottle. It smashed between us on the floor, glass shards shining like we’d dragged the stars out of the sky and broken them, like pieces we could never put back. Outside through the open windows, the sky turned pale gold, the clouds a mess of pink and cream smeared across the horizon. I cried then, watching my sister on her knees picking up the pieces. That was Annie, always trying to fix things even when it was too late.

The smell of food dragged me from my room, my stomach turning traitor inside my rib cage. Annie was cooking pasta, real food not made in a microwave. She’d set the table, Tammy Wynette singing softly from the CD player, Annie gently swaying her hips as she stirred the tomato sauce, rich and warm. As we ate in silence, I forgave her more with every bite. Mom never cooked dinner, never remembered my favorite had been spaghetti since I was a kid, and never stayed sober long enough to sit up at a table. Annie wasn’t Mom.

We were washing the dishes when we first heard it. A moth was crawling down the inside of the pane, and I cracked the window to let it out into the dark. From the backyard came a faint sound. I tilted my head to listen as it was coming from far off. Crying. I figured it was Mika, the two-year-old next door, having a tantrum loud enough for us to catch, or maybe even Lucky Strike, the cat that belonged to the junkies down the street, begging for food like he sometimes did. I always wanted to feed him when he came around, winding over my ankles, but Annie always stopped me, saying once you started giving they never stopped taking. Looking back, I don’t think she was talking about the cat.

Annie flipped the Christmas lights strung up around the porch, and we sat on the plastic beach chairs watching the skies. When we were little, we’d sit outside, and Annie would tell me the names of all the constellations and the stories of how they came to be hung up in the night sky. I had to grow up before I realized she made them all up as she went along. It was a game we still liked to play now, making up ridiculous stories for the shapes we could pick out.

“Ah, yes, that one there is the Coors Light. It got there when God dropped it out of his convertible window and never picked it up,” she said, nodding sagely and hiding her smile.

“Of course,” I said, waving my hands and pointing up past the power lines. “Right next to The Ashtray, left there by angels on a smoke break.” “Yeah, they say if you wish on it, all your dreams will come true,” said Annie with a grin.

Then she stopped laughing, and her voice grew quiet, face tilted up to all those dead stars.

“Let’s wish, Emmy. Let’s wish.” So we did.

The sound of wailing interrupted us. It was closer this time, and definitely human. We turned to one another in confusion. Annie shrugged, and I squinted into the black. It sounded like a baby, lost, tired and alone.

“It must be Mika?” I said, slowly getting to my feet. “Maybe he walked around the back? Do you want to call Connie and tell her we’ll bring him over?” Annie didn’t reply. I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Okay, I guess I’ll do everything then.”

I stepped off the porch, grass soft against my heels. The air smelled like it might rain, fresh and clean and growing. A promise unfulfilled.

“Em.” Annie’s voice was strained. I turned to her with a smile. It died on my face when I saw the look on her own. “Em, get inside now.”

She was staring out into the dark, past me, and opening the door with one hand behind her, fingers fumbling on the latch. I froze, barefoot in the dirt. I’d glimpsed what she was looking at.

In the bushes by the back fence, someone was crouching with their knees tucked up neatly under his chin, and his arms wrapped around his legs. His mouth was agape, softly opening and closing as he cried. Like a child, lost in the dark. No – not like a child. More like someone pretending, mimicking the sound under cover of darkness. Suddenly they straightened their back, snapping upright, face still obscured by shadow. They were tall and slim, extraordinarily thin by human standards.

Panic made me move, carried forward by animal instincts leftover from a time when people still lived in nature. I was faster than Annie, dragging her inside and slamming the door behind us, hearing it bounce on its hinges as I locked it. We watched as the person slowly approached the house with long, deliberate strides.

Annie reached for my hand, holding me tight, and turned me to face her, holding my shoulders.

“Don’t turn around, Emmy. Don’t turn around.” Instinctively I started to look over my shoulder into the gloom. Annie grabbed my face hard and shook her head. I knew then she was serious.

“I’m…” her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat, gripping my hand tight enough to hurt, nails digging in, grounding herself. I looked down at our interlocked fingers, both of us born of the same bones.

“I’m going to call the cops, and everything is going to be…” Her voice faltered, stuttering. Tears spilled over her lashes. Annie never cried.

“Your phone’s on the porch,” she whispered, and bile crawled its way up my throat. Her phone was upstairs, charging.

A soft, tap-tap-tapping filled the silence. Annie turned wide-eyed to the window.

It was the sound of someone’s forehead slowly and repeatedly bumping against the glass. Then the blows accelerated, gaining in both speed and strength, skin meeting glass until they were slamming into the window hard enough to shake the panes.

A moment later the tapping stopped, and I was about to ask Annie if I could look now, when she screamed, followed by the sound of cracking glass and a tremendous crash. Whoever was in our yard had just smashed their face hard enough into the window to shatter it.

We ran up the stairs two steps at a time, skipping the rotted ones out of habit. I turned to look behind me once, and Annie yanked my face back before I could see. The sound of glass breaking echoed behind us as we made it to the bathroom and locked the door. A weak, mewling cry, like that of an infant calling for its mother, filled the hallway, trapped between the walls and entryways.

Annie threw her back against the door, feet jammed up against the bathtub, clutching a knife she had grabbed from the kitchen. I joined her, shoulder to shoulder, and did the same. Slow footsteps started on the stairs, calculated and casual. The crying took on a mocking quality, resembling laughter, arriving in short, shrill bursts of sound followed by high-pitched giggling, and then silence, only to start again a moment later. The first door on the upstairs floor was my bedroom, and we heard the distinct sound of it slamming open.

They were looking for us.

“What the fuck is going on?” I asked Annie, not even bothering to brush away the tears that I couldn’t keep from falling. I watched my sister pick herself up off the floor and brace her hands on the door as we heard the sound of a second door slamming open. Mom’s room. The next room on the hallway was the bathroom. Annie pulled me to my feet and handed me the knife. I shook my head and pushed it back to her, terrified of what would happen if I had to use it. Annie shoved me and pressed the knife into my hands, thumb pressing hard enough along the edge to draw blood. I watched a winding road of crimson rivulets cascading down her wrist. In spite of the pain, Annie continued pushing the blade into my hands. Finally, I took it from her.

Something slammed against the wall that Mom’s room shared with the bathroom. A high-pitched howl followed. I held my breath and felt my heart beating frantically in the base of my throat.

“I’m gonna get the phone from my room,” my sister said. I shook my head dramatically in protest. Before I could say a word, Annie clamped a hand over my mouth. I could taste the blood on her hand, salty and sweet. Like birthday cake by the ocean. “Yes. I’m gonna get the phone, and I’m going to call the cops. We’re going to be okay.”

I shook my head again.

“It’s the only way,” Annie insisted. “When I go, I need you to lock the door, and I don’t want you to open it for anything or anyone. Not for me, not for… anyone. Promise me.”

I shook my head, and Annie pressed her hand against my mouth, pushing my teeth against my lips so forcefully it made my eyes water. “Promise me, Em!”

Something smashed in the room next door. Annie brushed the hair from my face and gently tucked it behind my ear. “Promise,” she mouthed, and unlocked the door as slowly as possible, the bolt scraping gently. I watched the curve of her shoulder disappear into the darkened hall, like the moon in eclipse. And then she was gone. I couldn’t move or breathe for a second, and then I slammed the bolt shut just as something bounced off the outside of the door. A high-pitched scream ensued, followed by the handle rattling up and down hard enough to pop a screw loose. I watched it roll toward me on the tiles. And then everything went still.

I sat with my back to the door, holding the knife and wishing I was holding Annie’s hand instead. The silence continued. For a moment, the only sound was that of my breath slowly filling the room.

A voice broke the illusion of solitude.

“Em?” a familiar voice came through the door. Startled, I gripped the knife even more firmly than before. “Honey, what’s going on?”

“Mom?” my voice cracked. “Momma, is that you?” I wrapped my arms around myself to keep from shaking.

“Sweetie, it’s okay, just open the door. It’s okay, just let me in.” The handle rattled again, gentler this time. “Just let me in, it’s all okay.” She banged impatiently on the door, and I took my handle of the bolt.

“Honey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I missed your birthday. I’m sorry I’m such a terrible mother. Please!” her voice broke, and she started to cry. “Just let me in, baby. I’m so sorry.”

I screwed my eyes shut. She sounded so sad and so lost. I just wanted her to hold me as like she did when I was a kid, when I’d come in with a scraped knee after falling off the swings. Maybe this time she meant it. Perhaps it would all be okay. My hand found its way to the bolt again.

My sister’s voice came through the door, warm and gentle. “Yeah, Emilie, let us in. It’s all okay.”

My hand froze on the bolt, and I tightened my grip on my weapon. Annie never called me by my full name. A hand banged on the door, handle rattling. “Emilie, let us in!” Annie’s voice became low and guttural, followed by the same shrill giggles from before. Mom spoke now, pleading and crying, her voice growing louder and louder. “Let us in! Let us in! Let us in!” she shouted over and over again, punctuated by her fists on the door. I thought about bedtime stories, and all the demons and monsters we pray never crawl out from under our beds.

“That’s not my sister, and you’re not my mother!” I screamed through the door, hands over my head. I climbed into the bathtub, curled into the fetal position, and clutched the knife to my chest. I didn’t know what it was outside that door, but I knew it wasn’t Annie. It wasn’t the voice that scolded me whenever I changed the TV channel, the one that sang me happy birthday, the one that told me I was smart even when I got bad grades, the one that read me stories about princesses that never wake up. It wasn’t human.

Bangs and yells came from downstairs, followed by the footsteps of people running. A low, guttural howl ripped through the house, filling the room until I felt like I was drowning in the sound, and then the door was kicked in. I screamed, covered my eyes, and waited to die.

A moment later arms found me, lifted me from the tub, and carried me from the room. I looked at the outside of the door as I was taken downstairs. Its exterior was covered in long, scraping claw marks, stretching to the floor. I found the hallway covered in the soft, downy remains of torn-up pillows, making it appear as if it had snowed indoors. I watched the tiny feathers drift slowly as men in uniforms checked each of the rooms that looked like they had been ripped apart by something feral.

Outside, police cars and an ambulance waited in our driveway, and there, in the middle of it all, was Annie, bathed in blue and red light and glowing in the dark like a neon angel. I threw myself from the officer’s shoulders and ran to her. Then I held us both together, broken pieces and all, standing under all those constellations we’d concocted. Muffled screaming came from the ambulance, which rocked occasionally. Annie gently turned my head away, smiling so sadly it made my chest ache. I understood.

It turns out there was no demon. No wild animal or bad men were trying to break in. It was just Mom, out of her mind on booze, drugs, and everything in between, coming to the end of a week-long binge. Something had finally broken inside her head, and this time we couldn’t put her back together no matter how hard we tried. Sometimes you fall one last time, and then never get back up.

Annie had seen her rail-thin frame in the garden, blood dribbling from her mouth, track marks bulging on her forearms like unmapped roads, desperate for one more hit, one more fix. She’d searched the kitchen for all the alcohol I’d thrown away, and when she hadn’t found any, she went hunting for the stash hidden in the bathroom. She hadn’t wanted me, just the drugs on the other side of the door. She’d been so high she was able to mimic Annie’s voice nearly perfectly.

The real monsters are the ones that eat you alive slowly, the kind that comes in a bottle or a needle, or at the end of a long list of reasons why you can’t get out of bed in the morning. Sometimes the monsters are the ones that raise you or love you the most. But it’s up to you to let them in.

[buchanannn]

Seconds: Part Two (Bucky Barnes X Reader)

Part 1

Summary: you and Bucky hang out, not much else

Word Count: 2563

Warnings: some swearing I think, fluff, no smut ://

A/N: this is part 2 and it ain’t that good, no smut kinda just story stuff, hopefully things get better soon

You woke up to the sound of cars driving below and people chatting in the streets. When you opened your eyes, you looked directly up to Bucky's sleeping face. The sun filtered through the curtains, drawing patterns on his cheeks. You looked in awe and then your heart almost leapt through your chest. What if he regretted it? What if, when he woke up, he'd realise that he'd made a mistake?  You looked away from him, trying to find the best way out without waking him up. But, with his arm wrapped around your waist, you figured there probably wasn't an easy way. You tried to push yourself out but Bucky's grip tightened as he sighed. His eyes began to flutter open and you panicked. Before you could even think about getting up, he smiled at you. "Morning." Your heart calmed a little as he rubbed his eyes. "Good morning." You replied, quietly. You propped yourself onto your elbow as he pushed some hair from his face. He turned his head to look at the clock on his side table, which read 9:24am. He ran his right hand over his face and yawned. You watched in awe as his muscles flexed as he moved.

"Take a picture," he smiled looking over to you. "It'll last longer." Despite your burning cheeks you just smirked. "Maybe I will." Bucky quirked am eyebrow, raising the left side of his mouth teasingly. "Oh it's that way now? You'll take pictures of my undressed body and sell them for some pretty pennies." "I doubt I'd be able to sell them." You giggled. "Probably couldn't even get a corn chip." "Puh-lease," Bucky swatted his hand. "There would be so many bids for a picture of my pillow let alone me."

"Arrogance is unattractive." You raised one eyebrow. Bucky laughed and shook his head. "No it's not."

"You're right." You buckled and let your head fall back to the pillow. You felt Bucky's warmth moving closer to you as he wedged himself closer to your pillow. When you turned your head, his eyes were closed but a smile still graced his face. You couldn't help but lean toward him and press a kiss to his smiling lips. When you moved back his eyes were open and his smile was wider. "What?" You laughed sheepishly. "Do that again." He said simply. So you did. You adjusted your body so you were half laying on top of him as his arm snaked around your waist. You cupped his cheek with one of your hands and rested your weight on the other forearm. His grip tightened until your bodies were pressed flush together. You were suddenly aware of your lack of clothes and the covers slipped down and Bucky's t-shirt began to ride upward. Bucky's hand filled the lack of t-shirt and cupped your ass as the kiss became more heated. You bit down in his lip, earning a small sound of approval. You weren't sure how far you were willing to go that morning but you'd never find out; a sharp knock causing you to spring back from him. He laughed at you as Steve's voice came through, muffled.

"Buck, you awake?"

Bucky, still laughing, called back an affirmative and you heard the door handle wriggle.

Time seemed to slow down, what if Steve saw you there, in bed with Bucky? Would he think you were easy? Would he think you were Bucky's girl and then stick to 'bro-code' and strike you out as a potential girlfriend. Thinking fast, you rolled of the bed, accidentally ripping off some blankets in the process and hide yourself on the opposite side of the bed, simply hoping Steve wouldn't advance further through the door. Bucky cursed as the door opened and the sheets fell to the floor. You instantly wanted to apologise but that couldn't give away your hiding spot.

"Me and Sharon were gonna go and get some coffee, want anything?" Steve said, leaning on the door frame.

"No thanks." You didn't miss the twinge of sadness in Bucky's voice and you felt the same in your chest. What you'd do to be the one beside Steve in the morning.

"Sure?" Steve asked again and Bucky nodded. "Okay, well, we'll be back in like half an hour."

"Sure." Bucky said simply.

"It's weird." Steve said before leaving. "I could've sworn I heard Y/N before."

"Yeah, she sent me a video if her cat." Bucky lied smoothly.

"Oh." Steve sounded unconvinced. "Okay, well, see you."

"Bye." Bucky waved. You waited until the door closed to pop up.

"Sorry." You said quickly. "I didn't mean to pull these off." You tossed the blankets back on the mattress.

He wiped his face quickly. "Jesus Christ."

You stood by the bed, watching him closely. "I better go."

He looked up, surprised. "Why?"

"Errands." You shrugged. You crossed an arm over your torso and held the opposite arm. "Saturdays are my running around days."

Bucky nodded, not meeting your eyes. "Yeah, sure." You bit your lip as you picked up your clothes from around the room. You sighed, walking to Bucky's side of the bed and sat on the edge. You leant your head on his shoulder. "I actually do have errands, Buck. I'm not just skipping out on you."

"I know." He said. He turned his head to look at you. "I have stuff to do, too. It's probably for the best." You smiled over at him, standing back up. "I'll see you on Monday."

"See you on Monday." He smiled back. You left his bedroom, struggling to pull your clothes on as you walked through the hallway. You held his t-shirt in your hand, not sure what to do with it. You threw it on the back of the couch and then you left.

It'd been 9 days since you and Bucky had left the party together and it seemed to have not changed your working dynamics. It only got awkward if it was mentioned and since no one else knew, the awkward moments could be kept in the lower numbers. Bucky had just come back from a small call in with Natasha and was just about to settle down into bed when he heard giggling coming from Steve's room. Great, he had to put up with that.

Bucky tried his hardest to ignore it but the walls of the apartment were so thin that he could hear the sounds of them kissing and he was out of there faster than you could say 'bad roommate'. He slammed the door on the way out, hoping they would hear it and feel at least a little bad that they were making so much noise. He checked the time on his phone, 11:23pm, before dialling your number. You answered with a laugh filled "hello?"

"Hey, it's Bucky." He said.

"I know, man. Caller ID." You teased.

He smiled to himself. "What are you doing?"

"Watching TV." You said. "There's a comedy festival on."

"Want some company?" Bucky's voice sounded less confident than usual and he hoped you wouldn't notice.

"I would love some, Buck." He could hear the grin in your voice.

"I'll be there soon." He said, ending the call and pushing his hands deeper into his pockets.

When he knocked on your door, he was greeted with a warm gust of air and the smell of your perfume.

"Hey!" You grinned, opening the door further for him. You were in your signature dorky pyjamas with an old t-shirt and a pair of flannelette pants that looked like they were straight out of the 70s. "Hi." He smiled, taking his coat off. "Well, the comedy show just finished but I think the Conjuring is on next just because I know how much you love horror movies." You grinned, ignoring the look he was giving you. "Yes," he said sarcastically. "I love them." Bucky watched you walk toward your kitchen area, glad no one was around to catch him checking you out.

"Drink? Food?" You called out, leaning on the refrigerator door. "Got any beer?" He called back, bending down to untie his shoes. "Is that a genuine question?" You laughed, pulling our two bottles from your seemingly never ending stash. He watched you pop the lids then set a bag of popcorn in the microwave. You handed him a beer as you walked back, flopping on the couch next to him. "So, what made you desperate enough to come hang with me?" You asked, as the two of you clinked bottles. "Sharon's spending the night." Bucky rolled his eyes. "Yikes." You made a face. "I spoke to her the other day. Apparently they're thinking about moving in together." Bucky felt like he'd just been punched in the chest. He lowered his beer bottle, his eyes falling on his hands. Steve had thought about replacing him? It had nothing to do with his feelings, either, just their friendship. He should've known, Steve was never gonna stay with him forever. "Buck, I'm sorry." You said softly, moving over to sit by his side. You set an arm over his shoulders. "I'm such an asshole."

Bucky shook his head. "No, no. I shouldn't be sad." "I'm sure she's just delusional anyway." You tried to console him. "And even if he did move out, you could move in here. Just think about it! Endless beer and pizza and shitty movies!"

Bucky smiled.

"Sorry, man." You lay your head on his shoulder and he rested his head on yours.

"It's okay," he turned to look at you. You smiled sweetly and then the microwave beeped, causing you to jump. Bucky laughs at you as you jumped up to fetch the popcorn.

On the way back you shut off all of the lights. The two of you snacked while watching the ads before the film. You even went as far to get a blanket to pull over the two of you as you leant on him. He kept his right arm tucked around your waist and you made sure the blanket covered his toes. It was how it'd always been.

When the movie started, you munched excitedly on popcorn while he groaned at the eerie tone of the film. You couldn't help but chuckle at the fact that the man with a kill list longer than a phone book and a metal limb was scared of a two hour long, scripted possession.

"Shut up." He nudged you as your laughter grew louder. "Or I'll make you watch an even scarier film."

"The Notebook?" You feigned fear.

"Joke all you want, doll," he smirked. "But I know your biggest fear is romantic-comedy."

"And Adam Sandler movies." You nodded, wide eyes.

"You're ridiculous." Bucky shook his head.

"Maybe." You agreed. "But at least I'm not scared of a bunch of actors."

He raised his eyebrows. "They're designed to scare you! If anything, you're the weirdo for enjoying them."

"Okay, sure." You nodded sarcastically.

He narrowed his eyes at you as you simply giggled at his irritated reaction. THe two of you had spoken through the first couple of scenes and it was already an ad break. The loud, jolly music actually made you jump as it switched so quickly from the eerie soundtrack if the film.

Bucky took this moment to laugh at you.

"Yeah, lap it up bud, it'll be the only scare I get." You stood up,tossing the blanket on him. "I'm going to pee." You walked through the apartment, picking your phone up before locking the bathroom door behind you. You glanced quickly into the mirror, your eyebrows needed taming and your face was barren of any makeup. You didn't know why you were stressed about that, though, you weren't typically a very appearance worried person. You shook it off and made to sit down to do your business but your phone started ringing before you could do so much as pull down your pants.

"Steve?" You greeted him.

"Hey, Y/N, have you seen Bucky?" He sounded worried.

"Yeah, he's here with me." You replied. "Why?"

"Oh!" Steve sounded surprised. "What are you two-? Never mind. Sorry. I just hadn't seen him yet today."

"Okay?" You narrowed you eyes. "Anything else?"

"That's all. Thanks Y/N." His voice sounded distracted. "You guys have fun."

"Hey, Steve," You started quickly before he could hang up. "I have a quick question."

"Shoot." He said.

"I know this is out of the blue but, uh, are you and Sharon gonna move in together?" You kept your voice hushed.

"Not anytime soon I don't think." He answered hesitantly.

"Oh, okay. Cool. Thanks. Well, have fun, bye." You hung up before he could ask any of the follow up 'why?' questions and then sat to actually piss.

You washed your hands, smoothing down your hair quickly and heading back out to the couch. You got to the living room and found Bucky absent from the couch. Maybe he got a phone call? Or was getting more beer? Or - "Boo!" Bucky jumped out from behind the corner around the hallway and immediately you balled your fist and threw it at him. Thankfully, he dodged out of the way before you could bruise his beautiful face, but he stared at you, wide eyed. "That was kinda hot." He laughed. You exhaled heavily, the edginess in your body still present. "You are a grade A asshole."

He laughed at his little practical joke, slinging an arm around you and leading you back to the couch. He kept his arm around you which you were thankful for in the cold night. Despite the heater in your apartment you never seemed to be warm. You debated whether or not you should tell Bucky about Steve's call but you decided not to. His night had already been disrupted by him and Sharon so why do it again? His arm rested around your waist and his hand on your ass, the blanket pulled up over the two of you. You'd seen the movie so many times that it was beginning to get boring upon this viewing and you could tell that Bucky wasn't enjoying himself either. You sighed, leaning forward and switching off the TV and walking over to switch on the light.

"Hey!" Bucky complained.

"It was boring. You hated it. Let's just go to bed." You sighed.

"I was having fun." He pouted.

"What? So you like horror movies now?" You raised your eyebrows with crossed arms.

"No I was having fun copping a feel." He laughed. You rolled your eyes.

"Come on. I'm tired."

"Alright, whatever." He pushed himself out of the couch and followed you to your bedroom. He shed his pants and his shirt, climbing under the covers as you made yourself comfy. He moved closer to you, wrapping an arm around your body and pulling you into his chest. "What are you doing?" You deadpanned. "Oh please, we've been closer than this." Bucky scoffed. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder as if to try and jog your memory. But you hadn't forgotten a single detail of that night. "Whatever." You mumbled, closing your eyes and nestling back into him. The room was silent, you listening to Bucky's even breathing and slightly snoring, as you lay awake.

[ariannnawinchester]

Purple eyes, desperate cries

Characters: Dean, Reader, Sam and three OFCs.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, violence, death. The usual angsty stuff.

Square Filled: Fairy abduction

Summary: The Reader is sort of new to the gig, Dean and her clash and she runs away. That’s when things take a turn for the worse. Feelings are left hanging in the air and when they finally settle it’s too late. There’s a reason why Dean hates ‘witches’.

A/N: This is for @spnangstbingo. I wrote this some time back. I just forgot about it. Feedback and constructive criticism is most welcomed.

“You’re joking right?” You scoff. The situation seems too far fetched for you to comprehend, let alone for you to take seriously. “There must be some other explanation for this.” You shake your head, walking over to the rickety chair to take a seat.

Fairies. That’s what you can’t wrap your head around. That’s what Sam’s been trying to convince you about for past 10 minutes. Like actual fairies. With cute flower petal dresses and shimmery wings. Just thinking about it makes you giggle.

“People are turning up dead. And you’re sitting here laughing?” Dean’s voice stops your laughter dead in its tracks. There’s a storm brewing in his green eyes, threatening to flatten anything in his path. For once, you don’t want to push his buttons. “I don’t care whether we’re up to our asses in sparkly purple fairy dust, we’re gonna solve this case.”

Sam clears his throat. The sound slashing through some of the tension. He gets off his chair and walks to stand in front of you and Dean. He’s thumbing at his tablet. You can see his mind is working at a million miles a second. “So get this, apparently all the people that have gone missing are believers. They believe in all this mumbo jumbo. That’s why the fairies can take them.”

“Biker Jack is a fairy believer?” You question, sarcasm dripping of your every word. “Can’t really imagine him skipping around his garden sprinkling fairy dust all over the place.”

“That would explain the children.” Dean says over you. Almost like he’s pretending you aren’t there. “How many kids were taken again? Just before we got here?”

“Uhhh...” Sam scrolls some more, “two.”

“What if it’s a Tulpa? Loads of people believe, it’s bound to come to life.” You pipe up.

“It’s probable.” Sam nods in your direction, “that would explain why it’s happening for the first time in this town.”

“You’re kidding right?” You’re taking her side.” Dean questions, his nostrils flaring. “It’s fucking fairies. We’ve dealt with them before. I blew one up in a microwave.”

You stalk up to Dean and push him. Hard enough for him to stumble. His jaw drops, wide eyes just blinking at you.

“I don’t get what’s your damn problem with me Dean. I’m trying to help. Excuse me, if I can’t wrap my head around shit. I got dragged into this crap because you needed a new goddamn prophet.” You yell, tears prickling at your eyes. “I’m trying. I’m fucking trying. But you know what I’m done. Goodbye.”

You snatch your navy jacket off the bed and head for outside. Slamming the door on your way out. The fragile windowpanes creaking in your wake. You faintly hear Sam’s voice calling your name but you keep walking.

It’s freezing out. Your breath coming in misty puffs right in front of your face, hugging your jacket tighter to your body, you keep walking. Trying to put enough distance between you and Dean. Your skin’s covered in goosebumps. Partially from the frosty air and partially from the sounds that are lurking in the dark edges of the leafy forest.

Something doesn’t feel right. You can tell. The hairs on your back are straight on end and your heart is thudding in your ears. Part of you kind of wishes that you hadn’t left like that. Dean maybe a pain in the ass right now but he has saved your ass more than you can count in the time that he knew you.

You swallow shallowly, coming to halt when you see a glowing light in the distance. It’s alluring, the warmth radiating from it drawing you in, almost like it is calling out to you. The icy air is blowing through the trees, making them dance to the enchanting song only you can hear. With an unwavering gaze, one foot in front of the other you make your way towards the light. There is something about it, promising you all that your heart desires. The closer you get the more it smells like him...

“Sam!” Dean shouts, on his haunches. The only brightness in the night coming from the Impala’s headlights. Dean’s fist is balled up tightly, his lips in a thin lip. “Sammy, it took her.”

Dean gets up, walking back to the car with his palm pressed against his forehead. That’s when Sam sees it. It shocks him. The ground is littered with purple glitter, glinting in the light. It makes Sam think of Jess, of school, of a life away from this.

“It make you feel anything?” Dean mumbles, leaning against the side of the car. He looks pale, like he’s about to heave, “I touched it and I saw her. And I didn’t just want her. I need her. Like without her I won’t be able to breathe.”

Sam didn’t hear much of what Dean said, only regaining his senses when the last of the glitter fell from his hand. “It’s no secret that you’re in love with her.” Sam smiles, putting his hands into his pockets, “when we save her you can tell her, yeah?”

“What if we can’t? What if we can’t save her?” Dean chokes, “Sammy, we have to find her.” He grabs Sam’s collar, expecting him to promise. But Sam, he didn’t want to admit it but he wants the magic too. The one the glitter promises.

You slowly blink your eyes open, trying to adjust to the bright white light dancing in front of your eyes. Your throat is hoarse, like you’d been shouting at a Led Zep concert, you’ll do just about anything for a drop of water.

“Greetings pretty one.” A musical voice fills your ear, “For a moment there I thought you weren’t going to wake up. I was about to rip Greta a new one for sprinkling too much dust.”

You can’t tell where the voice is coming from, frantically searching for it you find your wrists in shackles. Thick green vines sprouting purple orchids.

“Who are you?” You shout, twisting your arms, “what do you want?” The harder you struggle the tighter your restrains get. It’s making it hard to breath. The smell from the orchids almost lulling you into a deep sleep. “Dean’s..dean’s...gonna find me. He’s gonna find me.”

“Nauhh precious.” The voice fills your ear again, “I can’t have you fall asleep on me. Then it’s no fun.” It cackles, “as for your lover boy. We’ll see how far he gets. Wini get the broth!”

“Coming sister.” A squeaky softer voice answers.

You feel a hand grab your chin, with force holding your face straight. A wooden ladle is pressed against your mouth, almost as if it is forcing your lips to part. “No!” You scream, squeezing your eyes closed and sealing your lips shut.

“Come now dear.” The musical voice coax, “don’t make it hard for me.” The sweet voice has a a deadly sharp edge to it, “look at me! Look at me!” It commands, the booming voice echoing in your ears, “look at me and let me steal your heart. Let me steal your magic.”

Big fat tears are rolling down your feverish face. Your body trembling with fear and the trauma. You force your eyelids to open, stalling as you look at the dusty ground until the very last second. In time with your terrified heart you look up. And what you see shocks you to your core.

Beauty. Utter and absolute beauty. The musical voice is more beautiful than you could ever imagine. It actually hurts to look at them, her and who you can assume are her sisters. Wini and Greta.

“Who are you?” You whisper, completely enthralled by her gorgeous violet eyes. “What do you want from me?”

“Sybil. You can call me Sybil, pretty one.” She says, smiling at you. She kneels to your level, her soft finger tips brushing away stray strands of your hair, “and I want...I want-“

“Anything!” You blurt, wanting nothing more than to please her, “I’ll give you anything you want, I promise.”

“But,” she starts removing her velvet scarlet robes, “I don’t have your heart. He does.”

Slowly, violet eyes turn into brilliant green ones. Slender shoulders turn into proud squared ones. Soft creamy flesh turns into sun kissed freckled skin. And you can’t help but gasp. The sight of him takes your breath away.

“Dean.” You call out, “Dean you came for me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you and running off.”

“Hush pretty one.” The words don’t sound exactly right as it leaves his mouth, “I’m here to give you what you want. I’m here to help.” He assures, strong arm circling around your waist pulling you towards his solid body. “Now, drink.” He brings the wooden ladle to you lips, and you comply, drop by drop the purple liquid drips down your throat and you begin to feel like you’re floating.

“Dean.” You’re searching for his warmth but now, you’re just clutching at air, “Dean, I’m scared. What’s happening to me? Dean!” You begin to yell, but you’re choking on your words, the air snatched from your lungs.

“The louder you scream, the more it will hurt Y/N. Now, stop screaming. No one can hear you.”

“Tell me why you’re doing this!” You demand, barely able to see straight.

“Because we have to.” Wini, the shy one finally speaks out from behind Sybil, “or we die. We steal lives so we can live forever.”

“Shut-“ You hear the growl of Dean’s voice.

A gunshot explodes. Another one. And, another one.

Everything stills in their echo- the shuffling, the music even his, no her voice. In these seconds of stillness, your heart skips a few beats. You hear him again, the sound of his heavy footsteps sprinting towards you. With a panicked jerk, your heart’s in your throat, drowning out the furious whispers in your ears.

“Dean...” You murmur, feeling his strong arm around your waist, the other supporting your head, “you really came for me.” You manage a weak smile, “she tricked me, she made me think she was you. I know you’d never hurt me. You’d never hurt me.” You say furiously before the breath in your lungs run out, you’re squeezing his hand in yours, hoping he will feel it. Hoping he will realize that he is all you ever want.

“Stay with me Y/N.” He says, hushing you, brushing your matted hair off your sweaty forehead, “We’ll fix this alright. Sam’s gonna find away and you’ll be okay. We need you. I need you.” He chokes out his words, big fat tears rolling down his face.

“I’m sorr-“

“No!” Dean wails, clinging to your body, pressing his face into your loose hair, “No, no.” He keeps muttering, “this can’t be happening. This isn’t real.”

Dean doesn’t even react when Sam puts a hand on his shoulder. Sam has no words of comfort to offer. This has shocked him. Taken his speech away.

“She’s gone Sammy. Gone.” He sobs, not ready to let go of your body just yet. You’re still warm, color still in your skin. “I couldn’t save her.”

“Dean, we have to go. We have to take her home. Send her off the right way.”

Dean rubs the back of his hand across his face, smudging away the tears before he lets go of you.

“No. We are going to drive to the ocean and put her there. We’re going to do that. We have to give her what she wanted. It’s the least we can do.”

Sam freezes, shock contorting his sorrow. He grabs Dean’s arm, pointing to your body. The slightest movement of your fingers is enough to freeze Dean solid, his voice gets lodged in his throat.

“Y/N?” He calls.

But, it’s too late. Now, you’re the one with purple eyes.

Tags: @thedevilinthedetails @damn-sassalecki @akshi8278 @tia58 @laurwinchester @the-amaranthine @merci-is-screaming @pizzarollpatrol @torn-and-frayed @nightmaredean @captainemwinchester @sleep-silent-angel @kittenofdoomage

[dccomicsimagines]

Overdoing It - Tim Drake x Reader

“I can’t believe you forgot,” Jason retorted, following Tim through the store. 

“I didn’t forget, I just lost track of time,” Tim protested. He picked up a fancy toiletry set. Tim studied it before shaking his head and putting it back. 

“Sure, and I’m Santa Claus.” Jason chuckled. Tim glared at him, elbowing Jason in the stomach. Jason attempted to stop his laughter. “Okay, but why do you need me here?”

“Because I don’t know what to get (Y/N). They’ve had my present for weeks,” Tim explained, throwing his arms in the air. “I’ll be the worst boyfriend ever if I don’t find something.”

Jason snorted. “I think the fact you put off Christmas shopping until now makes you the worst boyfriend ever.” He picked up a piece of lingerie, holding it up to eye level. “Why did you bring me with you again?”

Tim blushed at the sight of the lingerie. “Because Dick would blab to (Y/N), Bruce is useless in this area, Alfred’s too busy, and Damian is not even an option.” He snatched the lingerie out of Jason’s hand. “Would you quit waving that around?”

“Why Timbo? You’re positively blushing.” Jason smirked evilly. 

“Would you just shut up and help me? I’m desperate,” Tim begged, putting the lingerie back on the shelf. “(Y/N) has been so excited about the gift they are going to give me and I have nothing for them.”

Jason wandered over to check out a rack of sweaters. “Why don’t you just do the easy thing?”

Tim’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What’s the easy thing?”

A smirk crossed Jason’s lips once again. “Give them your body.” Tim’s face went completely red. “Just tie a ribbon around your...”

“Stop it,” Tim interrupted, running a hand over his face. “Can you please take this seriously?”

“But I am serious, Timbo. It’s simple and (Y/N) will love it,” Jason reassured, clearly enjoying himself. Tim sighed, muttering under his breath about how he should have just came alone. Jason rolled his eyes, turning to pick up a soft, fuzzy blanket. “Give (Y/N) this. Everyone needs blankets.”

Jason tossed it to Tim. Tim caught it easily, studying the pattern. “I suppose, but I don’t think this will be enough. (Y/N) spent a lot of money on my gift.”

“And how would you know how much they spent?” Jason raised an eyebrow, unamused.

Tim blushed, refusing to meet Jason’s eye. “I may have hacked their bank account to see how much was taken out of it the day they said they got my present.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Creep.” 

Tim coughed, playing with the edge of the blanket. “Hey, I do what I can to make (Y/N) happy.”

“So, get them more than one thing then,” Jason suggested tiredly, leaning against a clothing rack. “There’s no rule that you only have to get one thing.”

Tim perked up. “Yes, that’s it.” A smile grew onto his face. “I’ll get (Y/N) a bunch of things, and give them enough to match the price of what they spent on me.”

“That’s not what I was saying,” Jason mumbled as Tim started to throw items into the cart. He sighed, realizing Tim wasn’t going to listen to him. “I swear for being the smartest, you can be the most clueless.” Jason followed Tim as he moved through the store to find more things for you.

***

“Tim, it’s present time,” you called, settling down on your couch. Your eyes widened in wonder at the fifty some presents sitting under your small Christmas tree. 

“Coming,” Tim replied. He entered the living room a moment later with a cup of coffee for himself and a drink for you. 

You smiled at him, accepting the drink. “Thank hon.” Kissing his cheek, you laughed when Tim blushed. He took a sip of his coffee to hide his flushed cheeks. You rolled your eyes at him.

“You should open my presents first,” Tim suggested calmly, gesturing to all the gifts. 

Your mouth dropped in shock. “Wait, all those are for me?” you gasped.

Tim froze, eyeing you carefully. “Yes.”

“Oh, Tim,” you sighed, picking up the first package. “This is going to take forever for me to open all of these.”

“Go ahead, we got time,” Tim reassured with a satisfied smile on his face. You smiled back at him before ripping into the package.

It took you about an hour to open all of Tim’s presents. It was almost exhausting, but you were flattered Tim went to so much effort for you. You received socks, fuzzy blankets, sweaters, pants, shirts, coats, a coffee machine, a microwave oven, towels, gift cards to various restaurants, several books, etc. The items were piled around you, leaving you to wonder where you were going to put everything.

You looked around you for a long moment. “Well, thank you, Tim. I...never knew I needed all this.”

Obvious as ever, Tim kissed your cheek. “I’m glad you like it.” He glanced over at the one package left. “Is that one mine?”

“Yeah, it is.” You reached over the piles of your gifts to grab the package you had carefully wrapped for him. Tim took it from you, surprised by how heavy it was. “You’re going to love it.”

“I’m sure I will.” Tim ripped into the package, smiling when he reached a plain box. He opened it only to receive a sight that shock him to his very core. “Is this what I think it is?”

You grinned, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Yeah, it is. I made it from your designs with Bruce’s help.” Tim pulled custom made laptop out of the box. His mind struggling to comprehend. 

“It’s exactly like my design,” Tim whispered, opening the laptop to find the fingerprint scanner. He pressed his pointer finger to it, smiling when it scanned his finger and turned on once it recognized him. “It even recognizes me.”

“That was mostly Bruce’s doing,” you explained, kissing his cheek. “So you like it?”

Tim blinked, turning to look at you. “This is amazing, (Y/N).” His eyes widened with panic. “Wait, I didn’t get you enough.”

“Tim, you gave me more than enough,” you laughed softly, picking up one of the blankets Tim had given you. “Thank you.”

“But it’s not enough.” Tim got to his feet. His eyes wide with panic. “This gift is amazing, and all I gave you was a bunch of mediocre ones.” 

You stood up, placing your hands on his shoulders. “Tim, your gifts were lovely. You don’t have to give me more.” He pulled away from you, ignoring everything you said. 

Tim began to pace the room. His hand pulling at his hair. You sat down on the couch, knowing Tim had to work this out for himself. Moving his laptop onto the coffee table, you took a sip of your drink. 

“I know,” Tim said, clapping his hands together. He was blushing madly as he grabbed a ribbon he had used for one of your presents. “Give me five minutes,” he ordered before disappearing in your shared bedroom. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“Tim, what are you doing?” you mumbled to yourself. However, you sat and waited until Tim called for you to come into the bedroom. When you opened the door, you found yourself staring at a naked Tim with a Christmas ribbon around his... “Tim! What on earth?”

His face burned redder than his red robin costume. “Merry Christmas,” he choked, repositioning himself slightly. 

You stared at him before you burst out laughing. Tim blushed even more, covering himself up with a blanket. “Oh, Tim. Was this Jason’s idea?”

“What?” Tim gasped, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Come on, Tim. You’re not someone who thinks to give your body as a gift. Jason told you to do this, didn’t he?” You moved to sit next to him on the bed. Tim twiddled his thumbs, refusing to meet your eye.

“He may have suggested it, but I wasn’t going to do it until I realized I didn’t give you enough.” Tim bit his lip. “I kinda feel stupid now.”

You pulled him into a hug. “It’s sweet, Tim, but you don’t have to worry about giving me enough. I’d be fine with just a ‘I love you’ and a kiss too. I’m happy as long as you’re happy.”

Tim slipped his arms around your waist. “You really mean that? So I’m not a bad boyfriend for giving you crappy gifts?”

“Your gifts weren’t crappy. They were great, and you’re the sweetest boyfriend for it.” You pulled away from him to look him in the eye. “But you don’t have to do it every year. I think I’ll run out of space for it all.”

“I guess it was a lot, but I just wanted to make sure I gave you something that equaled what you gave me,” Tim chuckled, running a hand through his hair. You kissed his cheek as he blushed cutely.

“That doesn’t matter to me, Tim. You should know that by now.” You rested your chin on his shoulder. “Though, I have to admit you do look pretty hot with just a ribbon on.”

Tim perked up. “You really think so?” A slow grin came onto his lips. You straddled his hips, planting a long, deep kiss on his lips.

“Yeah, I do.” You pulled away, slightly breathless. “Merry Christmas, Tim.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N),” Tim gasped before kissing you again. Needless to say, it was a Christmas neither of you would forget.

***

“I can’t believe you did it, Timbo. You know I was joking, right?”

“Shut up, Jason.”

“But tell me, what did (Y/N) do? I bet they started laughing.”

“You are dead to me.”

“So they did laugh? I knew it.” Jason started to laugh, but his laughter was cut off when Tim’s fist slammed into his jaw.

[tracies-tales]

Caged

Jack smiled as Signe walked him to his door. He said, “This was completely unnecessary, you know. I am perfectly capable of walkin’ myself to my own door.”

“I know you are, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t need a helping hand sometimes,” Signe grinned back.

If only you knew, Jack thought, forcing himself to retain his smile before they stopped on his porch. “I do appreciate the thought,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek. 

She bounced on her toes and said, “I’ll text you later. Have fun recording!”

“Oh, sure, always do,” Jack waved. She returned the gesture before she skipped back to her car.

Jack watched her until she had safely gotten behind the wheel before he entered his house. When the door shut behind him, his cheerful expression broke. He fell heavily back against the door, rubbing his hands over his face. His fingernails dug into the skin on his forehead and dragged down as the usual battle began. He had been having chronic headaches for the past few weeks--not the average run-of-the-mill-fixed-with-an-Advil headache, the kind that split the skull and made it impossible to focus on anything but the blinding pain. 

He groaned and grit his teeth, fighting it off long enough to get to his bathroom. He reached for the handle on his medicine cabinet and missed several times, finally managing to grab it and yank it open. He popped a few painkillers into his mouth, even though he knew they weren’t going to work. When he shut the door of the cabinet again, the mirror reflected a familiar face floating behind him.

“What do you want?” Jack growled, watching the green-eyed creature which had been plaguing his every waking moment. He’d named the hallucination Anti; the internet had recommended treating his illness as a personified being. Jack preferred thinking of Anti as a glitch in his system, like the ones found in computer programs; he knew Anti was a figment of his imagination, but that didn’t stop him from feeling so real--as if the demon were actually in the room with him.

Anti’s head jerked and twitched, an inhumanly large smile cracking across his face. He laughed, the sound broken and mangled by static and electric whines. He reached a clawed hand slowly over Jack’s shoulder towards his neck, giggling, “You.”

As a claw touched Jack’s neck, Jack shuddered violently. He shut his eyes and instinctively moved a hand to the spot to block the imaginary threat, his skin crawling. He drew in a few shuddering breaths, saying, “Keep it together, Jackieboy,” to himself. When he opened his eyes again, Anti had disappeared from the reflection. Jack swallowed and splashed some water over his face from the sink for good measure. He decided that the best thing right now was to get some food in his system to help the painkillers, leaving the bathroom and heading to the kitchen.

A growl loudly emanated from his stomach on the way there. Jack said, “Calm down, would ya? I’m gettin’ there,” as he approached the fridge. He dug around, not finding anything of particular interest among the leftovers. He settled on a frozen pack of stir fry which he popped into the microwave, not sure if he had the stamina to cook an entire meal at the moment, anyway.

He leaned against the counter, mindlessly watching the microwave plate spin as the timer slowly counted down. 3:00--2:59--2:58--

As the hum of the microwave filled the small kitchen, Jack’s mind began to wander. He frowned in thought as he considered why he hadn’t told Signe about his headache issue. Probably because he knew she would pester him to find out more about what was causing them. But he knew that wasn’t entirely it. It also had to do with the same reason he hadn’t gone to any doctors or psychiatrists: he was scared.

2:23

Anti scared him. He talked as if he were real, an entirely separate entity. He had to be a figment of Jack’s mind. Didn’t he? Jack didn’t think he had any family history of schizophrenia, nor did he believe he would develop it for any reason. And he didn’t tell anyone about Anti because he didn’t want to get thrown into a psychiatric ward. And also because Anti didn’t want people to know.

1:07

Jack felt his head begin to pound as he put more thought into it. He didn’t speak to Anti much, thus he’d never heard the glitch give the order, but he had an inborn notion that he couldn’t talk about Anti even if he wanted to. Not until Anti wanted him to talk.

0:45

The stir fry package started to whistle. It was quiet at first, but it soon escalated into a terrible shriek. Jack covered his ears with his hands, but he only seemed to hear the whistle louder than before. It wasn’t normal ringing in his ears, either. This was deafening. 

0:28

He clutched at the sides of his head, hearing the maniacal laughter of the glitch inside him. “Jackie,” Anti called in a taunting manner, “dinner is served.”

0:01

Jack didn’t think he could handle the sound of the timer. He ripped the door open to stop the heating implement and gripped the edge of the counter as his head hung. The following silence was more deafening than the whistling. He was panting for breath; had he been screaming? He looked up to where the steam escaping the slit in the stir-fry lid was pouring out, finding himself captivated by the swirls of mist. He stared at it right up until the steam looked like it had formed a knife.

He jumped back, beginning to shake. “What’s happening to me?” he whimpered, covering his mouth with his hand. He continued staring at the stir fry, which bubbled forth far more steam than it should have been. He saw it form into an eyeball which stared back at him. As he watched it, the eye grew bloodshot. Drops of blood beaded up where the corner of the eye would have been before they leaked out and dripped down into his meal. 

Jack broke out of his transfixion and slammed the microwave shut again before stumbling back. He heard Anti laugh, then the voice in his head asked, “What’s wrong, Jack?”

“Why are you doin’ this to me?” Jack asked the empty room.

In the reflection of the microwave door, Jack watched his eyes turn green. A smile broke out across the reflection’s mouth, and Jack couldn’t be sure if he himself was smiling or not. The reflection said, “Nobody likes being held in a cage.”

The smiling face glitched, shattering into one of rage as Anti snarled, “You won’t keep me here forever.”

Jack didn’t know what came over him, but he felt laughter bubbling up in his chest. He couldn’t control it; he heard himself laughing as Anti yelled, “L̷͇̣͎̜̓e̷̛̮̻̯͕͉͙̗̗͈̪̐̅͜ṱ̶̡̯͕̩̲̳̆͒̔̈́͝ ̷̘̖̹̭̰͔͙̪̟͓̥͓͎̬͌̌͛́͒̃̋̈́̏m̷̛̞͖͓̦̖̜̳̮͕̩̪͙͕̿̃́̈́̀͑͊͝ͅę̶͎͔͖̺͓̜̪̉̆̐́̈́͌͆̉̀͂̂̓̈́̅͝ ̶̙̼̯͈͓̗͒̆̑͌̉̊͜͠o̷̥̼̣̮͛̄ų̷̡̛͎͍̥̼̮͔̩͚͖͍̥̟̔̅̂̽̂̄̒͋̾t̵͓̏̀͗̿̓̑͋̌̐̚̕̚ͅ!̷̛̹̫̞̣̹̺̔̊̐͌̑̊̓̐͛̚̕͘ L̷͇̣͎̜̓e̷̛̮̻̯͕͉͙̗̗͈̪̐̅͜ṱ̶̡̯͕̩̲̳̆͒̔̈́͝ ̷̘̖̹̭̰͔͙̪̟͓̥͓͎̬͌̌͛́͒̃̋̈́̏m̷̛̞͖͓̦̖̜̳̮͕̩̪͙͕̿̃́̈́̀͑͊͝ͅę̶͎͔͖̺͓̜̪̉̆̐́̈́͌͆̉̀͂̂̓̈́̅͝ ̶̙̼̯͈͓̗͒̆̑͌̉̊͜͠o̷̥̼̣̮͛̄ų̷̡̛͎͍̥̼̮͔̩͚͖͍̥̟̔̅̂̽̂̄̒͋̾t̵͓̏̀͗̿̓̑͋̌̐̚̕̚ͅ!̷̛̹̫̞̣̹̺̔̊̐͌̑̊̓̐͛̚̕͘”

[221castiel]

Let it Snow - Chapter Five

Master Post // AO3

December 9th 16 days until Christmas

The afternoon was cold when Dean pulled up to Cas’s house, the sky clouded over with a chill in the air that bit at his fingertips as he set up a ladder against the side of the house and began clipping the string of lights to the roof.

For Jack, that’s what Dean told himself, he was only doing it for Jack. Maybe if he and Cas were still together he’d be doing it for him, but they weren’t. They didn’t buy each other coffee anymore, and they didn’t tease each other about their cars -even though the impala was obviously better than Cas’s pimp car- and they certainly didn't show up to each other's houses while the other wasn’t even there to hang up Christmas lights.

So yah, Dean was hanging the lights up just for Jack and only Jack… no matter what Charlie said.

The process was slower than he’d expected with having to move the ladder every second clip and swear at a fucking cat that had tried scratching Baby’s tires; Though if the owner hadn’t been watching Dean would’ve done a lot more than just swearing. Between it all he’d spent the time trying to fight off frostbite, his fingers almost burning against the cold air and his usual pale skin becoming a soft purple. Which as far as Dean knew wasn’t normal, but hell he wasn’t a doctor.

By the time he’d managed to get half the lights hung, Cas's car had pulled up.

“Dad!” A car door slammed shut and Dean turned, a smile spreading across his face as Jack ran up to him, wrapping his arms around Dean’s legs before he could even step off the ladder.

“Hey kid,” Dean said, wrapping his arms around Jack as best as he could without falling off. “How was school?”

“So so so so sooooo good,” Jack replied.

“So good?” Dean laughed.

Jack lifted his head, his round cheeks pink and lips spread out in an adorable smile, “Yah!”

Dean grinned as he brought his hand to Jack’ forehead and brushed the longer strands of hair out of his eyes, giving him a better view of Jack’s wide blue eyes. God he could never get enough of the kid, with his wide smiles and bubbly personality. It’d only been a few days since Dean had last seen him yet held missed him.

More than he’d realized. It was always more than Dean realized.

“Jack,” Cas called and Jack looked back, causing the strands to fall back into his face, “come get your school bag.” Jack’s grin dropped as he pulled away from Dean and walked back to the car, his pout only becoming more dramatic as Cas said something Dean couldn’t hear.

Cas said something else before Jack grabbed his backpack and crossed his arms across his chest. He turned away, his lips still puckered in a frown and nose scrunched adorably, as he stomped past Dean and into the house, slamming the front door behind him.

Tantrums were always cute when Dean wasn’t the one dealing with it.

With a smile still across his face Dean looked back to Cas, who now walked towards him, his usual trench coat wrapped around his body, while his eyes rested on Dean. Much like Jack his lips were pressed together in a frown, a very annoyed frown.

Maybe he should've given a warning before he came.

With their eyes still locked on one another's, Cas stopped at the foot of the ladder, his blue eyes wide as he looked up. An expression that has Dean’s heart racing. Against his trench coat and the dark blue toque he wore his skin seemed more pale, his usual tanned tone a soft pink.

Beautiful. Cas was nothing short of beautiful.

Dean could stare forever- He wanted to stare forever, memorize every detail of Cas’s face as if it would be the last time they’d ever see each other, and there were days where Dean thought that’d be true.

“What are you doing here?” Cas asked, voice it’s usual low, gravelly tone.

Dean shifted, adjusting his grip around the ladder. “thought I’d put up the lights,” he replied, hoping his voice sounded more relaxed then he felt, either way Cas tilted his head and narrowed his eyes

“I could have done it.”

“Do you know how?”

“Yes, of course.”

A smile tugged at Dean’s lips, the scenario far too familiar to not feel the warmth spread through his chest. It was a routine they’d fallen into long before they’d even began dating, small arguments with no purpose other than to get Cas flustered. To watch him clench his jaw, and scrunch his nose, something that only happened when he knew he wouldn’t win. “Ya sure?” Dean asked, knowing full well he was provoking the fight.

“Yes,” Cas insisted, “Dean, why would I lie?”

“Cause you don't like to admit when you don’t know how to do things.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Cas glared back, nose scrunched just the smallest bit, causing Dean’s smile to widen. “I admit when I don’t understand things,” Cas replied, “I still don't understand how to make popcorn in the microwave.”

Dean groaned, tilting his head back. God help him.

Even broken up they could still have the popcorn argument. He’d explained it more then once, hell more times then Dean could count. It’d gotten to the point that he was sure Cas only did it to bother him. Cas couldn’t be that stupid.

“That’s cause you use the popcorn button,” Dean repeated for what must’ve been at least the millionth time, “you're supposed to just time it.”

“Then why is there a popcorn button if I’m not supposed to use it?”

Dean shook his head, but rather than arguing, climbed the few steps down the ladder, the snow crunching under his boots as he reached the ground. “How about you climb up, show me how to do it, and if I’m right and you don’t know how to,” Dean gave a small shrug, “I’ll show you, free of charge.”

He expected some kind of rude remark or a glare that definitely meant fuck off, but instead a small smile tugged at Cas’s lips, his expression easing in a way that made Dean feel like tearing his own heart out. The look was too soft for Cas to be his ex, too gentle, too familiar. Filled with so much affection it was impossible for Dean not to care for the other.

He could barely breathe through his hammering heart, an electricity coursing through his veins even as Cas turned away and climbed up the ladder.

He should leave.

He could almost feel himself drowning in the emotion.

Addicted to the tearing of his heart. To the way his head spun with each smile Cas gave him.

He should leave, he should get into his car and drive himself home, or off a cliff, he couldn’t trust himself next to Cas. He couldn’t trust himself not to break down every wall they’d been building up, to not see how far he could push their boundaries.

How far would Cas be willing to go, how much closer could he get?

He should leave and yet Dean stayed.

They worked together slowly clipping the Christmas lights to the edge of the roof, Dean letting his fingers brush occasionally against Cas’s as he passed clips up, or standing a little too close, just able to feel the other's warmth. He couldn’t help himself. Charlie would have a word or two to say about it, and he couldn’t even begin to imagine the bitch face Sam would give him, but Dean only stepped closer at those thoughts, chasing the high he’d felt since Cas pulled up.

They’d only gotten a handful of clips hung before Jack was soon out of the house and dragging Dean away from the lights to play in the snow, and not long after that they managed to drag Cas into the game.

A snowball was thrown.

Followed by another.

Dean’s fingers were numb, and he could barely feel his toes yet there was a warmth that kept him going. Flaring across his chest as he chased Jack through the front yard. As he laughed along as if nothing had happened, as if the pain had never been there, as if the walls they’d built simply crumbled away.

He caught Jack easily, and after tickling under his chin threw him into the snow pile before the chasing game began again.

Soon enough Jack was once again in his arms twisting and giggling as Dean carried him towards the snow pile. The snow crunched below his boots until Dean stopped, “three,” he began counting down, swinging Jack forward. “Two,” Dean swung Jack back. “One.”

Cas’s phone rang and Dean looked back, Jack still in his arms.

“Hello Mike,” Cas said as he brought his phone to his ear, causing Dean to frown.

Mike? Who the hell was Mike?

“Yes,” Cas replied to whatever was said on the other line. He had a small smile across his lips as he stared to the ground, the expression so light and easy it tugged at Dean’s heart. That smile that was usually for him. Not who ever the hell fucking Mike was.

Who even named their kid Mike. Douchebags that’s who.

Mike was probably also a Douchebag.

Dean clenched his jaw as Cas tilted his head smiling at whatever was said over the phone. Probably some overused joke that he’d didn’t even understand, but was being polite about. Cause that’s how Cas was, too nice for douchebags like Mike.

“Yes that’s fine,” Cas said, “I will see you then.”

Cas hung up and Dean forced himself to exhale. “So,” Dean began, in an incredibly casual tone, “what’d Mike want?”

“To move our date to Thursday,” Cas replied.

“Date?”

Cas frowned, “yes. Is that alright?”

No.

“Yah,” Dean replied and shifted Jack in his arms so the child rested against his hip. He swallowed. How could it be okay, they’d only just started talking again and now Dean was already going to lose him; to some douchebag that skinned puppies (probably). “I’ve actually got a date too.”

Cas tilted his head and Dean licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry. “With who?”

“Uh, her name’s, uh Cassie,” Cas raised an eyebrow. “Yah she lives in my building, is a journalist, and um- hot as hell,” Dean added cause he apparently doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up.

Despite his rambling Cas smiled, a small one, but a smile either way. “I’m happy for you.”

Dean gave a stiff nod, he couldn’t say the same.

He glanced back to the impala and shifted in his spot, Cas’s eyes still on him, as calm and collected as ever. Either he didn’t notice the awkward conversation or didn’t care, knowing Cas it could easily be either. “Uh I-“ Dean began, “I should get going, I got a shift at the shop, and you know, Bobby would kill me if I was late.”

“Have a good night.”

“Uh yah- you too.”

After giving Jack a tight hug, with promises to pick him up on Friday night, Dean made his way to Impala, sliding into the driver's seat as quickly as he could and turning up the heat. His frozen fingers barely bent as he unlocked his phone and found Cassie’s number.

‘You busy tomorrow night?’

Dean hit send and let the phone drop from his hands before he rested his forehead against the steering wheel.

He was stupid.

He was a complete fucking idiot.

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, clenching jaw.

Cas was allowed to date people, they weren’t together anymore.

They weren’t together, even if things had been okay for the past few days.

Even if at moments Dean could almost pretend that they were together, that the smiles and laughs had never ended. That when they were close Dean could lean in and press a kiss to Cas’s neck, or to his cheek, or to his lips. That at the end of the day Dean would fall into bed next to the other.

But they weren’t together.

Cas was allowed to meet other people. He knew it would come eventually yet that didn’t stop the pain from settling in his chest as everything he feared came crashing onto him. As the truth he’d spent months trying to out run caught up.

They weren’t together and that wasn’t going to change.