#and now settles for staring at people and biding her time

[zestyderg]

Random doodle for today

[eruden-writes]

Room & Board - Part 20 (Vampire x Reader x Werewolf)

paranormal fantasy vampire x human eventual triad (x werewolf)

Anonymous asked:

For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

Links under cut!

x x x x x

First | Previous | Masterlist | Next

x x x x x

In the end, Jemma’s location spell does the trick. Well, kind of. The enchantment leads you through paranormal markets under the city, finding the right people to interrogate. It turns out vampires have few friends in your city. People who seek out vampires are either signing their own death warrant or ready to stake a few of the arrogant bloodsuckers.

Either way, it wasn’t anyone else’s business. One lead turns into a dead end. Another has no substantial foundation. Yet another tries to extort money and goods out of you, which led to Jemma actually turning that informant into a toad. With each new bit of information, you’re all led further and further out of the city.

Eventually, weeks after Tabaeus left, a tip finally strikes solid and true.

Two states away from home, you sit in a rental car with Jemma, Ewan, Liuva and Bjarka at a late-night diner. Despite the time of night and the fact the building is shuttered up, the mall across the way from the diner is seemingly popular.

Even when you ask the waitress - Tess, she/her - if there’s an event going on over at the mall, she shoots you a puzzled look. When her eyes flick up to the window, you spot a glaze tinting her gaze as she informs you, “Nothing’s supposed to be happening over there. The old mall is about as dead as it ever is.”

Even as the waitress stares, you watch one group head into the allegedly abandoned building as others leave. Some are elegant, others are crude and punkish. Yet it seems Tess does not see or notice them.

As the waitress falls into her rehearsed spiel, you share a look with Ewan and Jemma. Tess doesn’t seem to acknowledge the dense air settling around your group as you all realize she - and likely the rest of the diner’s staff - is under some vampiric sway. You push the discomfort away before ordering.

Something burns in your chest. Tabaeus has to be nearby. This feels like the right place, but you have no reason beyond the smoldering in your chest. You never felt like this with any other lead before. Or maybe you’re just tired of searching, sick of getting your hopes up.

After you’ve finished your meal - saying nothing further of the mall to the staff - the three of you trudge to the parking lot.

“What’s the plan?” Ewan takes out his phone, swiping through random apps. It’s only when he points vaguely toward the highway that you realize he’s putting on a front for anyone potentially spying on you. His green eyes tilt toward you, uncharacteristic seriousness making his words sobering, “Are we heading in now or biding time?”

“We should bust in, magic blazing.” From the backseat, Jemma leans forward, her own phone in hand. She, too, has taken up Ewan’s ruse.

Unlike the other two, you don’t bother with a phone. Shaking your head, you fight the urge to flick your gaze back toward the mall. “I think we should be subtle.”

Silence settles over the car as Jemma and Ewan continue to look at their phones, their hands, you. Anywhere but directly at the mall. If anyone watched your little crew, they’d believe it wasn’t even on your radar, you think.

Finally, something glints in Jemma’s eyes as she meets your gaze, raising her eyebrows. “Don’t malls usually have skylights or vents on the roof?”

“They’ll hear us coming.” Another shake of your head. Besides, how would the three of you get up there without causing a commotion?

Ewan nods to the back where the imps-turned-sugar gliders sit with ethereal intelligence gleaming in their eyes. The two have been silent as potential plans have bounced around the car. Upon them being noticed, Bjarka and Liuvia exchange a look. Wordless communication flies between them until Bjarka nods and says, “We will do it for a pie.”

You frown at their little demand. “I thought you wanted Tabaeus back.”

“We do,” Liuvia says, but they smile in a way that reminds you they are supernatural, “But we also want pie. A strawberry rhubarb one.”

With a heavy sigh, you glance from the imps to Jemma and Ewan. They both return your look with mild amusement and shrug.

“Ugh fine,” you sigh as you open your door. “You could’ve said something when we were still inside.”

“You didn’t ask,” chirrups one of the imps, though you’re not sure which as the door closes. You trek back to the diner, still fighting the urge to look toward the mall. Despite your efforts to remain realistic, you can’t help but feel a little lighter. As if you were one step closer to a conclusion.

—

It’s early morning, just as the sun half climbs above the horizon line, when you decide to put your plan into action. Through a scrying mirror conjured up by Jemma, you watch as Bjarka and Liuvia embark toward the mall from the nearby woods you deposited them in the night previous. The two dart along the dwindling shadows as dawn rises. As squirrels, they easily scale the building and prance along the roof with light steps. They duck and bounce around, taking stock of their options as far as vents, grates, and skylights go.

As the imps decide their next course of action, the rest of you wait. Liuvia and Bjarka eventually pry a grate off a vent and clatter into the metal tunnel. The image on the mirror follows as they scurry through the twisty ventilation. The motion and lighting makes your stomach cramp, so you turn away.

You sit in the backseat with Jemma, who continues to watch the mirror, eyebrows furrowed. In the front, Ewan drives. Last night, after leaving the imps behind, the rest of you drove off and found a clearing to hunker down in for the night. Sleep hadn’t been easy and, now, exhaustion battles in your veins with mounting adrenaline as you near the mall again.

Your plan banks on the fact Lachlan and Tabaeus are different - older, stronger, more powerful - than the average vampire. That should make walking into the mall-turned-vampire-nest easier. Well, as long as Bjarka and Liuvia managed to unlock a door for you.

As Ewan pulls the car into the mall’s parking lot and settles the car in a spot close to the door, he turns to Jemma. “How’re the smallfries doing?”

“They can see us and they’re unlocking the door now,” Jemma answers and, with a wave of her hand, the scrying mirror fizzles off. She’s already climbing out of the car, stowing the mirror in her bag. Despite long conversations last night, Ewan and yourself weren’t able to dissuade the witch from coming along.

“Ready?” Ewan pops his door open, though he’s still turned toward you. Concern etches into his features, as if he’s on the brink of saying you didn’t have to come along. He could handle this, he could save Tabaeus in your place.

But he can’t. Something in you knows this. With a swallow, you nod and open your own door.

The trek into the mall is short and blessedly uneventful. There don’t appear to be any vampiric thralls or familiars standing guard. Perhaps it is hubris on Lachlan��s part, but you don’t dismiss the possibilities of guards or problems deeper inside the building.

Liuvia and Bjarka hitch a ride in Jemma’s bag as Ewan leads your group, with you smack in the middle. He tilts his face up, nose twitching. The barest of a transformation touches Ewan’s features. Some thicker hair, a slew of stubble, the vaguest shift of a nose becoming a snout. He’s delaying the transformation to keep the vampires from sensing him, but you’re sure he’s nervous.

Hell, you’re nervous. You strain to hear the smallest sound, nearly holding your breath the farther you wander into the mall. For the most part, it’s silent. You don’t see or sense anyone else around, other than your group. Though that’s not saying much, considering you’re just a human. With a glance to Jemma, then to Ewan, you confirm nothing seems immediately suspicious.

Though their features are pinched as they focus, neither says or indicates a danger is nearby.

Faintly, you wonder how long he can hold a semi-shift as your eyes take in the corridor. Illumination surprisingly spills in from the sunlights. The stores appear chained and locked, the windows blacked out. Squinting at the locks and darkness, you wonder if there’s more beyond. Is each store a vampire’s personal territory? Is it like a hotel here? Or are they all lower in the building?

All five of you remain as silent as possible as you journey deeper and deeper. Past stores, through the food court, to a stairwell. Jemma conjures up a ball of light without further instruction, lighting the stairs. The aesthetic of the mall holds firm with tiled walls as you descend to the underground section of the mall. A vague chill creeps along your limbs, realizing you’re now underground.

Apparently, the basement is still a commercial area, you realized as the stairs open up to another floor of storefronts. Here, however, the stores are larger and, if you squint, you realize there’s faded signs like ‘bowling alley’ and ‘community development’ hanging over the entryways. No light manages to filter this far down, though. You try not to think about that as you follow Ewan, who keeps close to the walls.

Along with the faint chill, the silence of the area weighs heavily in your ears. It’s too quiet, even as your group scuttles over the expanse of tiled floor.

Quickly enough, you’re led down a slightly obscured hall, before Ewan finds another door. Pushing it open reveals a second set of stairs. This time, the stairwell feels industrial. There’s no happy white-and-blue tiled designs. Just stark metal and industrial grey that devolves into shadows as you peer down into the stairwell.

There’s a brief moment when you look at Ewan and Jemma. Their gaze seeks yours as well, checking to see if you’re still determined to continue. As one, the three of you nod. Jemma hoists the light a fraction higher and it glows a little more intently as you all descend.

The atmosphere grows colder, now raking across any bare skin. Dankness tinges the air as you notice thick gatherings of cobwebs and dead rats on the stairs. Eventually, you come to a landing that leads to a heavy door. The air is locked in your lungs as Ewan slowly shoulders the door open, obscuring your view as he peers around the other side.

After a beat, he opens the door further and the scent of damp and mildew overpowers the air around you. You choke down a cough as Ewan motions for you to follow him into a darkened hall.

If possible, it’s even harder to discern your surroundings now as you follow the werewolf. The shadows seem deeper, darker, more dangerous. The chill in the air bites at your throat. From the light of Jemma’s magic orb, your gaze follows various pipes and catches on rusted, industrial machinery. You have no clue what this all is. Elevator and escalator mechanisms? Gas piping for the food court? Long-abandoned generators?

Whatever is down here, you feel the vague sensation of continuing to go downward, on a gentle slope.

A startle rocks through you as you freeze, hearing something skitter on the concrete floor and echo in the distance. The other two pause. In the span of a breath, fur sprouts from Ewan and his face elongates further, his limbs and muscles growing. A crackle of energy hisses behind you, but you can’t bring yourself to turn and see what Jemma has conjured.

A low rumble of a growl catches in Ewan’s throat as you all wait.

Nothing and no one makes itself known. Slowly, you all carry on in the darkness.

You’re not sure how far you walk when Ewan stops and turns suddenly. You follow as he stalks down an adjacent hall - one you barely even saw - and stops at a wrought-iron door. This time, he doesn’t look at you and Jemma.

Ewan reaches for the large handle, yanking it open so fast your heart trips.

Soft, warm light spills over you from the room on the other side of the door. Rapidly, you blink to dispel the blots of blurry color. The room slowly takes shape in front of your eyes.

Lanterns hang around a large circular room, glowing low and vague. The room is as industrial as the rest of the underground hell, with large pipes and metal and machines. At odds with the metal, however, are mountains of cushions and fabrics draped haphazardly around the room. The pillows and fabrics - of all colors and styles and sheerness levels - bring some color to the deary grey, but somehow that makes the room worse. It sends agitation scraping down your spine.

Then your gaze lights on Tabaeus.

They are chained to a hulking system of pipes, lounging on a smaller hill of pillows. They’re naked, covered only in bruises and fresh bite marks. Their head lolls back, their hair a tangled waterfall. Your heart cracks at the sight, the rest of the world melting away as you step closer to them.

“You’re free to try and take Tabaeus, but… Well, they likely won’t go. This is what they know, this is home.” Lachlan’s voice shocks you from your thoughts. Your attention jerks to Ewan and Jemma, both looking as startled as you feel. Their attention doesn’t snap to the door you just entered from - nor any other dark crevice on your level.

No, you realize their attention is tilted upward. You follow the angle of their gazes and dread curdles in your guts. Lachlan is positioned overhead, on some sort of walkway that snakes through the pipes. He sits on a railing, draped in a way that screams egotistical ease and surety. Others linger behind him, ranging in muted hues and wearing clothing from an array of eras. More pallid vampires start to poke their attention out from the dark shadows of the room, all watching you with red eyes.

Mounting dismay fills your chest before you see Lachlan’s smile twists into something smug. In an instant, rage flares in your chest. Your hands fist at your sides, your shoulders straightening as you glare up at Lachlan. Somehow, through the sick sensations in your stomach, you manage to bite out, “Let Tabaeus be the judge of that.”

Lachlan’s answering chuckle makes your blood boil as he languidly motions toward Tabaeus. “Be my guest.”

[mcyt-builds-contest]

To everyone on the blog and the marvelous OP, I give you: a flash fic.

_____

Dream stared in confusion at the floating screen in front of him. Sir had left a half hour ago and Warden had just left him a few minutes ago. It had been a relatively simple session that a potion fixed.

But right now all his attention was focused on the glowing partially see-through screen in front of him. It seemed to be a blog about builds? He could scroll up and down it but he couldn't send in an ask. The button was grayed out as well as the back button. The button only worked when he was backing out of a post. The more concerning part was the description of the Vault.

Lore.

Lore implied a story. Lore implied arcs and characters. A beginning, middle and end. Pandora's arc.

Dream desperately wished he could do more than scroll and back out of posts. He wanted to know how the arc ended. How long he would be stuck here with Sir beating rules into him and attempting to mold him into a quiet submissive non-human.

Even now alone in the cell and in his own head he wouldn't dare to call Sir anything but his title. The punishment for disobedience wasn't worth it. If he knew how long this arc would last he could hold out til then. He wouldn't have to keep giving up piecemeal bits of his soul to protect himself.

He would follow Sir's rules but with a goal in sight then he wouldn't be giving in. He'd simply be biding him time til he could escape.

But if the story ended there. If the story ended with him being stuck in here forever then it was only a matter of time til Sir broke him and he would do anything to please his new Master.

The Vault seemed to be winning at the moment, but everytime he refreshed the page Pearl's landscape crept closer. Pearl had seemed nice the one time he had met her so long ago at a championship. The terraformed area was amazing in the pics people posted despite the weird blocky nature of the pictures.

But still he hoped the Vault won. Not only because he was in it at the moment but if the blogs owner was telling the truth perhaps the Vault would soon be filled. They had to be powerful to send the screen through the blocking properties of obsidian and crying obsidian.

With more prisoners then Warden would have less time to concentrate on him. Warden wanted to keep Sir's visits a secret so a dozen new prisoners would throw that plan out the window.

He ignored the thought that Sir wouldn't care. Sir would gladly let him scream and use him as an example to obey the Rules.

Crawling in order to not pull at his slashed up ankles and partially cut achilles tendon he went over to his chest he pulled out two of his least moldy potatoes and settled in to watch the chaos of the poll. He didn't even notice when he fell asleep. The blog waited for any additional imput before winking out of existence. It would return once Dream was alone again.

Guys it's me i'm the powerful being

It's been so long since I started cultivating these watcher powers, i'm glad it's finnaly working!!!

[keijoikawa]

a fated day, one the blond had been praying and hoping for for too long. he’d bet his life away, sure but only the aeons he didn’t believe in had been his witness when he was alone, cursing under his breath because damnit, he should be home - with her.

perhaps that emanator had seen through his acts while they spoke, the slight tremble in his voice at the thought of never coming back, never seeing dark blue eyes look up at him nor hearing her squeal his name happily ever again. it was a sign of weakness but it was her and he would happily accept her of all people to be his weakness. because just as much as she was a weakness to his calmed exterior, she was very much just as much a strength; a reason to make it home, a determination to succeed.

aventurine had long memorised the patterns in alexi’s work shifts; which days she was tending to the reality’s daycare and which nights she served drinks in the dreamscape. that’s how he exactly knew where to return to, to find that pretty face he knew - or was at least hoping was - waiting for him. with a slight shake in his hands, aventurine pulls out the key to her house she’d had cut for him. in her words, it was his home as much as it was hers.

it’s silent when he steps inside, not a noise to be heard other than the faint ticking of a grandfather clock she keeps in the hallway upstairs. he’d be lying if he didn’t say he was worried, his lips parting to call out her name before someone clears their throat, slamming a thick book shut.

“she’s sleeping upstairs,” the male sighs, red-orange eyes shifting over to the blond who is rightfully on edge just before he comes to realise exactly who was here with him, “i can’t say i’m excited to see you, gambler but i am moderately pleased to see you’re back - alive and unscathed.”

“doctor - good to see you upheld your promise when it came to her,” there’s only the slightest hint of hostility in aventurine’s voice, it’s clear he remembers what happened at the pavilion clearly but he cannot pin the man down as an enemy, not when he remembers the note that he had given him regarding dormancy, “has she… been okay?”

veritas raises to his feet, standing from the kitchen chair as he seems to lead aventurine towards the staircase - why waste time, after all? veritas knew it was better for him to see her himself, “she’s been quiet. this whole time she’s refused to work and instead bided her time waiting in this forsaken house for a certain ipc ambassador to sweep her off her feet once again.”

there’s a crack of a smile playing aventurine’s lips at the thought, his feet carrying him behind veritas without a second thought. he didn’t need leading, he could navigate this house in the dark with his eyes closed if he needed to - to which, he had before numerous times. she’d isolated herself, staying home in hopes that any day now he would come back for her.

she looks peaceful, sprawled among silk sheets and dressed in one of aventurine’s buttoned up dress shirts and while that sight alone makes him grin, pink-blue eyes do not fail to miss the aventurine collar still clasped around her neck. by the aeons, was she the epitome of loyalty?

aventurine settles at the edge of the bed carefully, taking off a black leather glove before brushing stray strands of brunette hair from her face. she stirs, brows furrowing at the sudden touch she knew wouldn’t be the stoic doctor who had been living with her in aventurine’s absence. the blond watches in amusement as she slowly wakes, eyelashes fluttering open. she’s not given a moment to wake completely, wide eyed as she stares in bewilderment at the sight before her.

“kakavasha?” she gasps, scrambling to sit up before she throws her arms around his neck, burying her face into the crook just as quick. aventurine raises a brow at the sudden use of his name, sending a skeptical glance at veritas. the mundanite averts his gaze - the culprit, nonetheless.

but aventurine brushes it off quickly as his arms tighten around her, pulling her back down onto the bed with him. in fact after a moment’s consideration, he quite enjoyed hearing his name roll off her tongue. she says no more but aventurine doesn’t mind until a soft sob comes from her, his neck feeling damp as he soothes his hand over her back.

“don’t go crying on me now, lexi,” he muses, burying his face into her hair as she takes a deep breath. he holds it together, not wanting the doctor to see the tears that sting aventurine’s eyes roll down his cheeks, “i’m back - for good. i promise, i’m never leaving again.”

[beyuji]

✏️

< now playing: alter ego - got the beat > cw: guns, light violence.

yuji's been doing this a long time. she's never been caught.

not that getting caught is really the issue. it's getting caught and having everyone know about it. a few people here and there don't matter, because they're always easy to take care of.

it's who you let know and how much you let be known.

"freeze!" yuji follows the order, keeping her hands frozen in place above the briefcase. the vials stare back at her, mocking. she tries not to laugh as the person behind her -- vinn, her mind supplies-- rattles off some sort of protocol. god, of all the people.

"c'mon," yuji scoffs, amusement colored in her tone as her hands raise and she slowly turns around in place. she keeps her back to the briefcase, letting her gaze stop on vinn. she waits for recognition to settle. "who are you pointing that thing at? me?"

"yuji?" confusion colors his voice. "what are you...what are you doing here? i need you to get away from that. it's dangerous!"

"is it?" she glances behind here, then back at him, blinking. "doesn't look all that dangerous. c'mon, put the gun down. that's dangerous."

yuji's good at talking. she's good at talking in circles and biding time. she's good at lying, and she's good at acting. maybe that's why vinn looks so frustrated now, because the image of a careless scientist fiddling around with things she shouldn't is undoubtedly aggravating.

good thing she isn't any of that.

"i don't want to shoot you, yuji." vinn pleads. she almost feels bad. "please step away from the samples. they need to be taken in and disposed of. there's not much time left."

yuji's eyes flicker behind him. she feigns an expression of shock. years of acting classes and schooling for this fall back into her motions like coming home. vinn keeps talking, but yuji keeps staring, feigning fear and stammering out starts to words that cause vinn to pause, and look behind him.

and that's all yuji really needs.

easy motions to bring her own gun out, and it's an easy aim to his hand to disarm him. yuji clicks her tongue, shaking her head at him as she pockets the gun, feeling nothing as she watches him nurse his injured hand. his gun is on the ground, but he makes no move for it.

"sorry, vinn. i really didn't want to shoot you either," yuji sighs. he edges towards his gun, and yuji carefully closes the briefcase behind her. keeps it clutched to her side, samples secure, while her other arm moves inside her coat. vinn moves for his gun, but yuji's always a step ahead, taking a planned step right off the edge of the platform and into the abyss below.

and then she hookshots right to safety, vinn's protested yells echoing in her ears.

[astrxlfinale]

He finds himself challenged upon this ground, the moon their witness as distinct decisiveness burns within her gaze. Caelus bides his time, allowing the person who truly lives here to draw the picture of the current situation. Just as her people have, no different than the looming threat that found itself being slowly torn to its full consciousness. Above anything else, what truly solidifies its presence to the Trailblazer in this moment is the aspect of weight.

Surrounding them was a potential gravity that no one could potentially turn back from.

In short, a calamity.

Even now the position of concern for his alien circumstances was being accounted for. Whether it was from her wellspring of kindness, or matters of duty and honor mattered naught to him. It was recognized all the same as his once tensed hands loosened, falling slack by his sides. "If I did that, it would wind up becoming a choice, a regret I'd have to carry for the rest of my days." For an instant he's stunned at how potentially sacrificial that sounds. He gives pause, idly brushing some of his silver hair to the side, glancing simultaneously at Jinhsi and his inner thoughts all at once.

"I'm not here as a means of underestimating you or the wild things you all can pull off. It's just that, if people decide to give a damn about you, isn't it just natural to return that?" Lighter times, the silly arguments, truly putting their grit together and sharing what they had, even with such a fearful precipice upon the horizon.

It strikes Caelus in how the people here hold the resilience to help themselves and others.

"Everyone deserves their shot to see a new day." That's the belief of this Trailblazer. Held out, raw, bare and exposed. It's within this given state however that the focus of settling within the Magistrate's eyes becomes much more potent to him. Concentration of this scale, it stirs familiarity in ways that a land blessed and cursed by dreams also stared him down, at least its heaviest hitters did.

His posture shifts as a hand is drawn to his chest. Drawing it's gloved state upon his shirt, energy finds itself present, slowly stirring from its innate slumber as a soft howl sings, its rage contained, it's potential carefully caught as that wild luminosity lazily glows.

"You sensed this." A simple truth. At the same time it reveals one of his own, situations like this were at least experienced before.

But to see the most urgent angle at the present doesn't mean that one should ignore a pressing situation of another's. No matter how many good words she has heard— be it through Sanhua herself as someone who has been watching his every step at her first notice or that of the people, this is unacceptable. And perhaps there is a reason to be that goes beyond that of a genuine wish for him to return where he came from at ease, go find his comrades whom must be worried about him.

It is the fluctuations in frequencies of something that is part of him, one that is heavily reminiscent with reverberations— if not something even bigger than that.

Whatever it is, she cannot let him be part of this.

��You don't understand.◞ One of the biggest problems of harboring a kind heart is the emotional difficulty that supposes to say no, one that Jīnhsī has learned long ago to stop thinking about if that means it'll lead to a more optimal solution. ◜I have entire confidence in my abilities, as I have in my people and the Midnight Rangers.◞ For that reason, she has trust that they will handle this crisis on their own— but lóngzhèn knows better than disclosing internal affairs to anyone, let alone a man of unknown origins. Even if that much is evident by what he experienced or what people have been saying. Jué's long absence is a fact hard to disregard, even more so the presence of Fractsidus in Jinzhou territory.

Solemnity blankets her collected features as the lóong maiden looks at the man before her. ◜If matters go worse, I cannot cover you much longer until my attention is required in full elsewhere. You need to find a way to leave before your coming becomes potentially irreversible.◞

[extremelyblackandwhite]

hurts like hell | b. barnes

pairing: james “bucky” barnes x maximoff! reader

warnings: morally grey characters, character death, MCU level violence, diverts from MCU canon, MoM spoilers

summary: she loses him at the battle of wakanda and grows into a morally grey witch trying to gain him back.

Things were quiet in a manner which things should never be. Deep in her body she could feel things were merely preparing to implode and as she watched from the top of a Wakanda Tower, the winds merely a reminder of what was to come. She could feel it within her, the warlord holding the stones which had awakened her powers getting closer and closer, attempting to find its last stone which currently sat in her sister’s partner’s head. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help but stare out the windows, the fields almost dark as the threat loomed over everything she had. Everything they had fought for, the future they’d discussed during sleepless nights.

     - Are you alright? - the ex Winter Soldier walked up behind her, his hand intertwining with hers. 

     - I don’t wanna fight. - she whispered due to the sin that came attached to her words. She had power, she had things within her which were still desperately unknown, and because she had power, it was as if she owed humanity her aid. Why did she need to sacrifice everything herself? Hadn’t she lost enough? - Why does it always end up in a fight?

     - It’ll be soon over. - he rose her hand up to his lips, kissing the top of it before looking at her with those blue eyes which although everything they’d been through still managed to give a sense of peace. - It’ll be over soon, little witch.

She didn’t trust him. She’d usually trust him, it was so easy to after all; but this time, this time she could feel it that something bad was coming. She knew doom and this was it, creeping onto them like a wave to sand. Yet, the feeling of doom was nothing compared to the fear that clouded her mind as she watched him, the only person who’d truly loved her after her stint in HYDRA, go away to fight in the frontlines. Like a wife biding a sailor goodbye, she stayed behind the glass, deemed powerful enough to protect her sister and Vision but not powerful enough to join them in the frontlines. She’d always be considered too erratic, too unstable to be a hero, to be the one who fights in the frontlines. No, she needed to stay behind, behind where there was someone powerful enough to stop her if she wasn’t trustworthy enough. 

    - It’ll be fine. - her sister comforted her once again, even as the horizon filed with creatures and armies looking forward to gain the very last Infinity stone. However, Y/N doubted they’d have enough time to unbind Vision from the stone in time.

She was right, things were turning for the worse and took an even darker tone once Wanda too left the tower. She looked towards Vision who looked at her with a look of understanding. 

    - We’re not gonna win. - she whispered to herself. - I have to find my sister, I have to find Bucky.

Everything was entirely too fast for her. The once easy target’s she’d trained herself to defend against were nothing compared to weird creatures going after her and everything being thrown at her. She defended herself to be the best of her abilities, moving towards the battleground to find Bucky until she felt a pang in her chest. Vision. He wasn’t here anymore. Tears burned at the corner of her eyes as she viciously levitated over the grounds, attempting to find her Bucky. They needed to go, they needed to go now. He owed nothing to this, he owed nothing to a group of people who had once wanted him dead. 

    - BUCKY! - she yelled out as she landed onto the ground once more, red light moving through bushes and bushes of greenery until she finally found him

She stood feet away from him, a smile creeping on her face as she finally saw him. Her heart settling. They could go home, they needed to go home. Yet before she could reach him, before she could feel him, his voice reverberated in the air as his body disappeared into dust in the wind. A gruesome cry gathered at the back of her throat as she collapsed to the ground, her knees rubbing against the pebbles as tears rolled down her face, her hand touching the ground he once stood out. Steve attempted to hold her but the screams only returned as she couldn’t feel them anymore. He wasn’t here, her sister wasn’t here. 

She stared ahead of her, the God of Thunder holding his axe against the titan’s chest - failure. However, as the warlord attempted to snap his fingers once more, she rose her own hand, stopping him. Her eyes turned red, her tears once clear rolled equally crimson down her cheeks as she got onto her feet. This was not a little witch and like a wounded lover, she strode down the path of the green grass which turned dark as she passed by, the red magic holding the titan still in the ground. She stood in front of him, much shorter than the titan yet holding enough anger in her eyes to even make him fear her. 

    - It’s no time to mourn, child. - he spoke but his voice got muffled as she moved her hand once more, choking him with his own words. 

    - You’ve taken everything from me! 

She moved her hands down, the titan harshly falling on ground, still stilled. Steve attempted to reach her but he too was merely pushed off as the axe who once was buried in Thanos’ chest rose onto the air, taunting just above his neck. 

    - I’ll make you feel the way i felt when you took him away from me. - those were the last words she said, a smile through the crimson tears as she gave up her control of the axe which swiftly fell onto the titan.

Blood splattered over her face but she didn’t blink or shy away from her. She merely stayed there as it dripped down her face, a silence surrounding her as no one said a word. 

    - Y/N. - Steve spoke out, her name like a curse as she turned around, the blood falling towards the ground before she disappeared in a crimson cloud.

(...)

She woke up once more in a sweat, her arm extending towards the left side of the bed only to find it cold once more. He wasn’t here, she’d seen him but he wasn’t here. Her darkened fingers brushed over the ivory pillow they’d picked; the same ivory pillow in her dreams he got to sleep in. She held the sheets against her chest, the dried tears no longer able to run down her cheeks. Her eyes looked at her astral form, flipping through the Darkhold. If there was a way to bring him back. She needed a way to break from this reality, she needed out. 

Through the quiet of her home, a small noise was heard. Her head turned to the side as another centre of energy formed in her hand, slowly pacing through her home until she reached her living room. 

      - I know you’re in there. - she spoke to the empty house, twitching her finger to bring the intruder back to life. - How’d you find, Rogers?

      - It was the last place to look for you. - he dropped the shield which had been given to him in Wakanda. - Y/N, come home. 

      - What home? The Avengers Headquarters? It’s not my home. 

      - I know you’re confused and you’re mourning but ... Y/N, let us help you. 

      - Help me? - she chuckled. - You never wanted to help me, you wanted me controlled. 

      - I don’t want you controlled. I ... it wasn’t just you who lost someone. 

      - He shouldn’t have been there. - her the rim around her pupil began to glow bright red. - It didn’t need to be a fight. If it wasn’t for you and your bunch of hypocrite people he’d be here. He’d be here with me like we planned. We were gonna be happy.

      - No one could’ve known who would go, Y/N.

      - I would’ve protected him. 

      - You couldn���t have protected him.

      - You don’t know half of what I can do, Rogers. Don’t stand in my way. 

      - There’s nothing we can do, Y/N. We tried, we’ve been trying. 

She blinked, raising her hand as a constellation in red circled her, various dots with different realities. The first Avenger stepped closer, watching what looked like exactly what she wanted, her and Bucky, happy. Her eyes looked up to hers. 

     - This universe is an anomaly. He’s alive in every single other reality and we’re happy. 

     - Y/N, he’s not alive. These are just ... dreams.

     - They’re not dreams. I see him, every night, in other realities and he’s alive and my sister’s alive and she has her boys. I just, I just need to get there, get to him. 

     - What about the other you? It’s not you, it’s not your Bucky, Y/N. - silence struck between the two of them. - Please don’t make stop you.

     - Stop me? - she smiled. 

She turned around, her eyes lingering over her home before turning around. Her hand twitched as she held him constricted by red lines. 

     - You can’t stop me. 

taglist: @smallestsnarkestgirl​ @thebluemage​

[legoshi-plz]

Notice Me Part V

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Reader (eventually), BestFriend! Hitoshi Shinsou

Summary: College AU. Reader feels like she’s constantly overlooked and she’s made her peace with that.

A/N: Took me forever to write this because I’m honestly so terrible at plot, I just want reader and Izuku to be happy but where’s the drama in that??

///////

Hmmm this essay is taking a little longer than usual. Maybe going to the library to work on it wasn’t such a bad idea. There shouldn’t be too many people there on a Thursda-

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on your bedroom door immediately followed by Shinsou barging right in. You were more surprised to see him at all rather than by his less than courteous entry, which was actually very on brand for him given the nature of your friendship.

Since he’d ducked out of that last movie night, he’d missed the next few weeks afterwards and hadn’t really said much to you beyond seeing you in class. You knew he was busy but you’d got the feeling that maybe he genuinely just didn’t want to hang out with you anymore, having finally found better friends permanently.

“Long time, no see, ‘Toshi,” You watched as he flopped onto your bed face first. He didn’t say anything back so you went back to your laptop screen which you were currently working on.

Eventually, he pressed his face to your thigh, nudging the laptop over so that he could set his head in your lap. You allowed it, sensing that something was wrong. It wasn’t often he laid his head in your lap but usually it was his way of being vulnerable. You remembered the last time vividly when he’d found out his grandfather passed away. He had cried into your lap for hours while you tried you best to offer any support you could. You weren’t exactly the greatest at knowing what to say but you knew how to be there and listen, hoping that was enough.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, brushing a stray raven lock from his forehead. Now that you could see him up close, you realized just how exhausted Shinsou actually looked. There were dark rings under his eyes, he was an unhealthy pale color, and you could see faint worry lines beginning to settle above his brow.

Shinsou was still quiet and for a moment you thought he may have fallen a sleep but a soft sigh escaped his lips and he opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling without really seeing it.

“I’ve made some.... poor decisions,” Shinsou mumbled.

“Poor decisions like what?” A couple of thoughts swam to your head but you didn’t dare utter them out loud, not wanting to make him feel worse.

“These girls I’m with... y’know they don’t mean anything, right?” Shinsou said it softly as if it was some secret. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yeah.... And?”

“And? And that’s the problem. They’re meaningless, all of them. They just want to control me. They’ll do anything to make me stay, to try to claim me as their own, it’s disgusting,” Shinsou may have been talking to you but his eyes were far away, still zoned out at the ceiling. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, hoping that would help him feel a bit better.

“Maybe you should let them go? Get yourself a proper girlfriend, have something steady for once,” Thinking back over the years, you actually couldn’t recall Shinsou ever actually having a girlfriend. Sure there were one or two who thought they were his girlfriend only to be met with a rude awakening.

“Maybe you’re right. Get a girl whose sweet. And smart. Someone I can actually talk to who isn’t just biding the time til they can pull my cock out-”

“Don’t be gross,” you tugged on a strand of hair knowing it would shut him up, he’d always had a tender head.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Shinsou grumbled, turning to press his face into your tummy. Moments like these reminded you old times when you and your best friend had been inseparable. Before adulthood hardened him and he wasn’t so caught up in everyone around him.

“Hey, you hungry?” You ask before he can get too comfortable and actually fall asleep.

“Yeah,” he mumbled through your clothes.

“Wanna go get something to eat?” You’re met with a hum of approval but no effort to actually move from the spot he was in.

//////

Izuku was at a loss. He had been trying to fight this distraction for weeks yet time and time again, he found his mind drifting to a certain problem. That problem being you.

He had thought he was over the butterflies that would erupt in his stomach every time you smiled. He thought he was over the way his heart would skip a beat every time you touched his arm, his hand, his anything. He thought he was over the stupid crush he’d had on you since UA. And yet every time he thought of you, he was proven wrong.

He had honestly believed he could be just your friend and keep his mindset in that of only friendship. He thought that spending time with you as a friend would make him realize how silly his infatuation was, how the two of you were better off as only friends. He had experienced the same thing with Ochako, his crush on her almost immediately dissipating once he had the chance to really get to know her. But with you it seemed that just the opposite was his fate.

Every time he saw your face, it’s as if you looked more beautiful to him. Every time he heard your voice, he could feel a chill go down his spine. Every time he was in your presence, he only found himself wanting more. More time with you, more of your attention, more of everything.

More, more, more....

Izuku didn’t see himself as a selfish man, he just wasn’t raised that way. But when it came to you, he did find himself hungry for your attention, jealousy affecting him in a way it never had before. He wasn’t naive, he knew he had no right to feel this way so he tried to distance himself from these emotions. Reminding himself constantly that he never stood a chance with you in the first place. Anyone with eyes could see your heart beat for Shouto Todoroki, at least as some point.

He couldn’t confirm if you still harbored your affection for him but he could confirm that Shouto was everything he wasn’t. He was calm, non-emotional, and calculating to a fault. His cool exterior and confident self-assurance was something Izuku just never possessed. A confidence that could only be bestowed up the son of the number one hero, of someone who has never wanted for anything, who has never felt like they were less. A child prodigy that has seemingly never had a single insecurity in his life. Izuku didn’t begrudge him for it, but he wasn’t naive enough to pretend that the comparison between the two wasn’t as obvious as night and day. Izuku was easily excitable, could cry at the drop of a hat, and overall came off as awkward more than anything. He knew he wasn’t the same nerd he was when he was younger but despite the muscle he’d packed on or the inches he’d grown, deep down he still felt like that same shy kid as before.

“There you are....” Izuku’s head whipped around to see none other than Shouto Todoroki walking towards him. He sat down in the seat across from him.

“I stopped by your place but once I saw you weren’t home, I figured the library was the next best place to look,” Shouto said in his usual deadpan voice.

“Oh yeah, you know midterms are right around the corner,” Izuku wasn’t one to usually worry about quarterly exams, or at least, he wasn’t until you began to plague his thoughts. His laser focus and tunnel vision approach to studying was all but demolished in favor of his mind drifting to you. Like he somehow managed to do right now.

“Midoriya, are you feeling alright?” Shouto asked, waving a hand in front of Izuku where he had zoned out.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if that’s why I’ve hardly seen you lately. It feels like we haven’t hung out in weeks,” Izuku immediately felt guilt at Shouto’s admission. Besides the peculiar and competitive love/hate friendship he had with Bakugou, Shouto was essentially his best friend and Izuku had selfishly been trading out his company for yours.

“Yeah it has been a while. What are you doing now? Or later today?” Izuku asked, closing his laptop and textbook.

“I have some online homework assignments that are due this evening but I’m available tomorrow,” Tomorrow was Friday.... meaning...

“Sorry I can’t tomorrow, that’s usually the night that me, y/n and Shinsou get together,” Izuku said, conveniently omitting Shinsou’s habitual absence.

“Y/N? From U.A.?” Shouto’s voice gave way to a hint of excitement that made Izuku’s stomach twist. Shouto had always been fond of you, especially since that time spent together at his father’s agency.

“Yeah, we um, get together every week and watch movies,” Izuku already regretted what he was about to say, “you should come join us sometime.”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that. That sounds... interesting...,”

[dudeandduchess]

Prince!Kyōjurō x Princess!F!S/O: Dry Humping (Smut, Kinktober, NSFW Scenario)

Warnings: Smut, Dry Humping, Making Out, Semi-Public Setting, Almost Getting Caught

MASTERLIST

***

“Why do I have to be the one to entertain this… prince? Duke? Whatever he is,” (Y/n) asked with a slight huff in her tone, as she stared at her handmaid through the mirror.

The other woman was busy finger combing through (Y/n)’s damp locks, taking good care to keep the strands from being pulled too much. After all, it wouldn’t put anyone in a good mood if they got their hair pulled right before an important dinner.

“The crown prince of an allied kingdom, your highness. Prince Kyōjurō.”

“Prince… Kyōjurō?” The name instantly tasted bitter on the young woman’s tongue, as it all clicked in her head that the man she had been with last night— the very man whom had abandoned her just as she was about to cum— was an actual prince; and one of her father’s esteemed guests, to boot.

A mix of irritation and anticipation bubbled within her at that realization; making the scheming wheels in her head begin to turn. Because she wanted to get even… in the best way possible.

“Have you laid out a dress for me yet? Or do I have the liberty of picking my own dress for tonight?”

But, of course, she always had the liberty of picking the dress that she wanted to wear— granted that it was not a formal event where she needed to color coordinate with her family.

So, with a smile, (Y/n) settled even further into her seat and silently looked forward to seeing her future bed partner. She was going to use him for her own pleasure, and that was a promise.

***

“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting for long, your highness,” (Y/n) announced with a smile, having cut off the footman from announcing her arrival into the dining room. She practically sashayed into the expansive space, acting the part of a gracious hostess and curtsying at the blond who’d only just risen from his seat.

Kyōjurō had to blink twice at the sight that was before him, because he was sure that it was a deliberate attempt to provoke him. (Y/n) looked breathtakingly ethereal in a tastefully sheer dress, with that seductive smile on her lips, and her eyes practically begging him to kiss her like he had the night before.

And he was so tempted to give in and do it, had he not remembered that dinner was about to be served. It wouldn’t have done well for both of them to be caught cavorting somewhere they were sure that they were being watched so scrutinizingly.

So, with a dimmed down smile, Kyōjurō gave the young woman a slight bow, before moving to help her into her seat— which was the last thing that he wanted to do at that moment. “Shall we dine, my lady?”

It was obvious that (Y/n) was a bit taken aback at the sudden turn of events, yet she tried not to let her discontent show on her face. Especially when she noticed that Kyōjurō had turned from warm to simply polite— like a pendulum swaying from one side to another.

To say that she was frustrated would have been an understatement, yet she had to just make it through to dessert— then she could get him all to herself.

All throughout dinner, no conversation aside from simple pleasantries were made; how the salad was so fresh, and how the quail was amazing, it was all drivel that served to make (Y/n) wonder more and more about why the prince’s affections had gone cold…

That was, until she noticed that he was eyeing the servants posted at the corners of the room; watching them and catering to their every beck and call. So, simply biding her time, she waited until the last course of the night was on the table before ordering everyone to leave her and the prince alone— and to close the door behind them.

Suddenly, the tension between them grew thicker; as if something had been released with the closing of the door behind the last maid.

“Might I ask what is bothering you… Kyōjurō?” The young woman asked coyly, as she took a small bite of the gelato in front of her. Her eyes flickered up to meet the blond’s gaze, holding that contact and trailing down south to admire the way that his tongue sexily took a swipe at his bottom lip.

“You are, my lady,” Kyōjurō answered softly, meeting her eyes once more and staring intently into her soul. He then swallowed thickly, before licking his bottom lip once more, “I want nothing more than to ravish you in that dress. Was it necessary for you to wear it tonight?”

A pleased smile made its way onto (Y/n)’s lips at that, now knowing that the man’s interest hasn’t fizzled out; it had been merely been leashed, since they were in the presence of others— people who could talk and bring their reputations down.

He was there mostly for business, after all, and it wouldn’t have done any good for him to be openly caught with his pants around his ankles. He had already tempted fate enough the night before, so he had to be careful going forward.

However, (Y/n) had other things in mind as she got up from her seat and skirted around the table to get to him. Her heels clacked softly against the floor, and her dress sashayed so alluringly that it took everything in him to keep his hands to himself.

“I wore it just for you, your highness,” She whispered with a saucy wink, right as she reached out to lay a hand on his right shoulder; running the tips of her fingers up and down the broad expanse, before she slid them up higher to caress up the side of his neck. “Don’t you like it?”

“I like it way too much, that’s the problem,” The blond answered in a strained tone, closing his eyes and relishing in the feel of her nails gently teasing his skin.

Just as quickly as he let his eyes fall shut however, they immediately opened up when he felt (Y/n) unceremoniously straddle his lap. She was so close that her perfume teased his senses even further, making him lean forward as his hands instinctively anchored themselves to either side of her hips.

“You’re playing with fire.”

The princess only grinned at that, as she closed the gap between their lips; moaning against her lover’s mouth when he wasted no time in snaking his tongue between her lips. “I’m playing with you, Kyōjurō.”

That caused the blond’s cock to get even harder than it already was at that point, twitching in his pants— especially when (Y/n) adjusted herself so that her clothed pussy was pressed right against his bulge.

He knew what she was going to do, and he was in no mood to cum in his pants, yet he let her do what she wanted. Simply because he wanted her too much, in any way that he could have her.

(Y/n) claimed his lips once more at that action, slowly beginning to roll and gyrate her hips against him; all in an effort to stimulate her clit. Her pleasure was dulled out compared to having had Kyōjurō’s mouth between her legs yesterday, but it still served to please her more than her own fingers had the night prior.

It was such a heady feeling, having such a powerful man moaning beneath her while she humped his cock through his pants— with his fingers gripping her hips tight, and his own hips trying to meet her thrust for thrust. And those feelings only served to spur her on even more, to the point where she threw all caution to the wind and wrapped her arms around his neck; deepening their kiss, as their movements became more frantic.

She could feel herself getting closer and closer to the precipice of release, even though this one was not near satisfying at all. In a way, it was empty and she needed more— so much more.

Yet she couldn’t will herself to stop moving, moaning into her lover’s mouth and taking the time to suck on his tongue while her fingers tangled themselves in his hair.

Kyōjurō was just about to get up from his chair and lay her out on the empty half of the dining table— anticipation bubbling so incessantly within him, that he almost didn’t catch the soft knocks on the door.

Immediately, the two of them pulled away from each other, with (Y/n) quickly getting off his lap and trying to clean up the messy state that her lipstick was in, while he straightened his shirt out and fixed his mussed up hair; making it seem that nothing lewd had transpired between them.

When, in reality, both of them were burning so hot with need for each other.

“I trust you know where my room is, Kyōjurō?” (Y/n) asked under her breath, before getting up on her feet and trying to act like he hadn’t been so close to fucking her seconds before the interruption.

[aquanova99]

Secrets (Druig x Reader)

💛💛💛💛

Summary: druig is surprised when you run into some of your very powerful friends. Apparently you both have been keeping things from eachother

A/N: I know it’s taken forever to get something out. And yes I know these timelines don’t match up with the movies. Don’t come for me 😂

A/N: I hope I wrote Druig okay, I’m still trying to figure out how to write more marvel without repeating the same stories over and over again.

A/N: thank you so much for reading! As always requests are open and reblogs are super appreciated 💛

“I wasn’t expecting to see you again.”

 “My beautiful y/n, as if I could stay away.”

 Y/n laughed as you spun her around and kissed her. Gods, how you had missed her. You, Makkari, and Thena had gone of to find more eternals, but you had grown restless knowing you had left behind y/n. The fact that she was human weighed heavily on your mind. Over the past few years, you had tried to convince her to come live with you. Once she had been in a wreck and you tried to force her to come with you, for whatever reason your powers didn’t work on her.

“Didn’t you say you had very important business to take care of and you didn’t know if you could even come back?”

“I know. Like I said I can’t seem to stay away.”God you were so desperate to let her in. Sersi had her second chance, and now Sprite did too. And here you were biding for time.

“You know one day I’m going to convince you to run away with me.”

 “You know I want but I—”

“Can’t. I’ve heard it before. What I don’t know is why you won’t tell me why you cant come with.”

 “Why won’t you tell me how it seems you never age?”

 “You act as if I should have grey hairs already.”

 “Im acting as if nothing about you has changed for the past however long I’ve known you.” She kissed your cheek and began cooking food for the both of you.

 “Fair enough. I am still older than you though, if that helps.”

 “It doesn’t, you never tell me your age. You could at least lie about it and make less suspicious. It just seems weird that your appearance always seems to stay the same. What are you going to do when I get all old and wrinkly.” You chuckled at her but it was honestly something you’d been dreading. You didn’t even want to imagine a world without her in it. Which was why the battle with Ikaris had been so important. Not that she could know about that. The two of you settled into a comfortable silence after that until she was done cooking the two of you.

 “You know we could always go out.”

 “I like cooking for us anyway.” She smiled sweetly at you.

��Afterwards the two of you took a walk around the park. It had taken a lot of goading from you but you had finally convinced her to enjoy some time outside. The sun was beginning to set before she suddenly froze.

“Hey, lets go back to my place so we can watch a movie, yeah?”

“Is everything okay?”

 You looked to see a group of people staring at you. Avengers. You recognized them. Another group of people you wished you had been allowed to help. You saw Captain America and Tony Stark start heading in your direction.

 “Babe, we need to go. Now.” She tried tugging at your hand.

 “They aren’t going to do anything to you my love Im sure of it.”

 You heard her sigh, “That’s not what I mean—”

 “Well, well, look who it is cap.”

 You were thrown off guard. For a split second you thought they had figured out who you were but now it was very clear their focus was all on y/n.

 “Y/n we’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

 “I’m sure you have.” You were shocked. Apparently y/n had met the avengers at one point and even more surprising was her immediate distaste for them. You’d never seen her turn away anyone. She had her arms crossed and her whole demeanor changed. Your little ray of sunshine suddenly turned ice cold. You reached around their minds to see how they knew her. You saw glimpses of her fighting along side the avengers in the original battle against thanos. Small glimpses in the second battle. You saw her shielding people, disappearing in and out of battle. You looked back over at her, finally understanding why she tried to stay away from the general public. She finally seemed to remember you were there and sighed.

 She turned back to face the group of heroes. “I told you I was done. What do you guys want?”

 “Look we know we messed up but we’re trying to get as many of us back together. Without Vision we could really use you.”

 “Yeah well I could have used you when that building collapsed.” You literally couldn’t speak. You glanced back over and saw a mission going haywire, y/n getting stuck inside a building. Comms were down, the rest of the group assumed she was gone. You saw red, you felt yourself begin moving towards the group but y/n’s hand reached out.

“I don’t think so. You guys can figure it out yourselves.”

 She began pulling you away from the group that had formed. You saw Soteve Rogers ask a question as if you were both still there. Stark reached his arm out and just threw his head back. You looked over at her.

“Just keep quiet. Please.” She whispered to you. “Look at the windows.”

 To be honest you were still in shock that y/n had taken part in these huge battles and you had no idea. From what you saw her ability to shield you began to understand why you couldn’t read her like everyone else. You looked past the cars you were walking by. You came to a stop. Y/n had a good grip on you and almost tripped over you. You couldn’t help walking closer to the car window. You couldn’t see anything. The two of you were completely invisible. She tugged on your hand and the two of you walked in silence until you got near her apartment. She went to the side of the building and finally released you.

 “So now I see why you always want to stay nearby.”

 “Yeah, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about it before.” You saw her look down and bite her lip, “Do—do you still want to come in.”

 You chuckled, “Oh my love, theres some things I think I need to tell you as well. Come on."

 The two of you settled into the couch, she had gone back to her usual cheerful self. She crossed her legs and waited for you to continue. You began showing her the things you could create, explaining your powers. How you saw what she could do by reading the minds of Stark and Rogers. She was quiet for a bit.

 “Are you able to read my mind?” She asked quietly

 “My dear, if I could I would have done so a long time ago. I tried to convince you to come live with me when you got in that accident, which I am now realizing wasn’t from a car.”

 She shook her head, “nope. Sorry. Some people came to check out the destruction afterwards and they found me super out of it and got me to the hospital. Then I yelled at the avengers and shortly after you found me.” She looked down at her hands

“So you really aren’t aging, what are gonna do about that?”

 “We need to find Sersi. She can make me human.”

 “Wish she could make me immortal. Then I could make up for all this time hiding. Enjoy life some more.” She threw her head back on the couch. You scootched closer to her and brought her into your chest. That was actually brilliant. You didn’t know if it worked both ways, but you wanted to try. You wanted to Sersi more than ever.

 “Well we can always try that too.”

Her head snapped up to look at you “And if that doesn’t work?”

 “Then I will change for you. I’ve been around forever anyways.” You said as you kissed her forehead

 “Hmm maybe I shouldn’t be with such an old man. People might thinks it’s weird.”

 “Whatever,” you said as you shoved her off you, “you love me.”

 She laughed and placed a soft kiss on your lips “Yeah, I do.”

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @artaxerxesthegreat @aunt-pipie @avyannadawn @imtoanonymousforyou @lacychick @minghao3o @quarthly @ajeff855 @user13cabs @vxidnik @nenchiro

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Laisse tomber les filles 7

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; sexual acts and dubcon (not explicitly tagged for a surprise but nothing extreme).

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: We back at it again! Happy Tuesday.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

‘When I was nineteen, pureness was the great issue...I saw the world divided into people who had slept with somebody and people who hadn’t, and this seemed the only really significant difference between one person and another. I thought a spectacular change would come over me the day I crossed the boundary line.’

You read and reread the paragraph. You couldn’t help it. The first time you read that book, you just didn’t get the cynicism. There were still parts you couldn’t quite relate to. But that passage sank into you like a pebble in water. You felt changed already and after something so little.

You hadn’t seen Lee since Saturday. He had your number now and called at night. A few times, there was noise in the background; people, cars, life. You realised he must’ve been at a payphone, taking a moment away from his patrol. That was another thing about him; he felt so established, so wise, and that made you feel even less.

When the phone began to ring that night, you ignored it. And when it stopped, you picked up the receiver and dialed the only number you knew. Your mom picked up and you heard the sink running in the background. She was always busy when you called.

“Mom,” you said, “it’s me.”

“Oh, hi, dear,” she replied in her creaky tone, “how are you? Oh, is something wrong?”

“Um… I’m okay, I just wanted to call, I…” you thought of telling her about Lee but you weren’t really sure how. You weren’t even sure why you called her, only that you felt alone. “I miss you and daddy.”

“We miss you, too,” you heard her steps and her grunt as she stretched the cord and twisted off the faucet. “He’s been working hard down at the steel yard and he’s so proud. All the other men tell him to hush up when he brags about you.”

“Yeah? I… I’m working hard. Got an A on my last paper,” you played with the coiled cord.

“That’s great, dear,” she chimed, “are you sure you’re okay? You sound tired.”

“I am tired,” you said, “that’s all. Studying and all that.”

“I hope so. I wouldn’t want you going out late to one of those parties,” she tittered, “Noreen’s son got arrested at one of those and spent a night in jail. They spent their mortgage to get him out.”

“No, no, I don’t, um, go to parties,” you assured, not adding that no one would even think to invite you to one.

“Oh, dear, I’m sorry, I’ll have to call back tomorrow,” she sighed as you heard the door clamour, “your father’s so intent on hurting himself these days.”

“Okay, um, it’s alright, I’ll talk later, love y--” the phone went dead and you listened to the dull tone.

You put the receiver back in the cradle and tapped your fingers on your lips. You picked up your book and sat back on your bed. You couldn’t focus on the words though as your mind lingered on the familiar sounds of home. You missed it terribly. You just wanted to take the bus and go hide in your old childhood bed.

The phone rang again. You knew it wasn’t your mother. You left it and when it silenced, there was only a second before it started again. You waited until the next lull and moved the receiver off the cradle and let the low hum rise from the speaker. You kept it off the hook and closed your book.

You didn’t want to deal with any of that today. Not Lee, not Plath, not the plague of woes that roiled your stomach. You flopped onto your bed and pulled your pillow over your head. You weren’t going to think again until your morning lecture.

📚

You sat near the front of the hall with your elbow on the small fold-out desk. You swirled your pen lazily in the air as you listened to the professor expound on the flaws of historical revisionism. He wasn’t the type to entertain questions or comments, he merely ranted and expected you to note those few words of value amidst the sea of thoughts.

You yawned, exhausted despite an early night. You felt empty and drained those last four days. Ever since…

You didn’t think about it. Tried not to even as it tugged at your mind. When the memory managed to poke through, you felt the same tingle between your legs and your cheeks burned in humiliation. 

How had you let it happen? How could you let yourself do that?

You were so confused by it all. How could it be wrong if Lee said it was right? He was older, he was a cop, and he knew much more than you. You never even kissed a boy before him and he was so confident in everything he did that he must be doing it all right. 

Besides, after everything, if you refused him, you’d have only been leading him on and using him for his kindness, even if you didn’t realise what you were doing. Because what you did know was that he was a man and you were a woman and that he was doing nice things for you. And you accepted them all. The least you could do was bide his affection. That was the age old exchange, was it not?

“Next week, we’ll review chapters five and six,” the professor’s tone piqued as his ramble subsided, “I expect a class discussion and you can expect ten percent of your mark to be evaluated from your contribution and I will know if you just ‘skimmed’ the introduction.’

The class grumbled as he dismissed you and you stood slowly, stretching the cramp from your leg. You packed up your bag and hauled it on your shoulder. You had a gap between that class and your afternoon publishing class. You trailed out behind the flow of chattering students but found many of them lowered their voices as they came out into the hall.

There voices fell to whispers as they entered the hall. The sight of a brown hat assured you of the reason. Sheriff Bodecker stood against the painted brick and watched the students pass by, each eyeing him nervously and some chuckling under their breaths nervously. You tried to hide behind a taller student but your name tripped you up.

Despite your efforts to maintain your invisibility, he’d spotted you and you knew you could run away. Several of your peers craned around to watch you, no doubt suspecting some trouble on your part. You dragged your feet and stepped out of the tide of fleeing co-eds to stand along the wall with Lee.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

“Young lady,” he said staunchly and kept his eyes on the other students, nodding at them darkly as they passed.

He waited until the hall was empty before he turned on you. You fidgeted and caught your bag as it slipped from your shoulder. Your thoughts wrinkled above your brow and you stared at his brown leather shoes.

“How did you… find me here?”

He was silent as he reached in his jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He opened it and showed you a print-out of your schedule.

“Easy enough,” he tapped his badge nonchalantly, “I was worried. You didn’t answer last night.”

“I fell asleep early,” you said weakly, “morning lecture, you know?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, “not that early.”

“I’m sorry, I was sleep--”

“You’re no good at lying and I don’t like you telling me fibs,” he growled, “you playin’ around with me, honey.”

“No, I…” you blinked as he folded the paper back into his pocket and pushed his jacket back to settle his hand on his pistol.

“Did you forget who I am? What I am?” he arched a brow darkly.

“N-No, sir, I… I got schoolwork and--”

“You can’t stop and talk to me for ten minutes?” he challenged, “you hurt me, honey. I’m out on patrol all night, in danger, and the only thing I got to look forward to is hearing your sweet voice.”

“I, um, I… er, I’m confused,” you eked out, “I don’t know… I…”

“Honey,” he leaned in and his hot breath glossed over you as he lowered his voice, “you know what this is, we both know what a bad girl you were on Saturday.”

“I didn’t…” you swallowed and choked on your voice, “I gotta go to the library--”

You tried to turn away but were pulled back by his tight grip on your arm. He forced you against the wall and knocked the wind from you as your bag tumbled from your arm. You gasped and stared up at him in fright. In that moment, he seemed bigger than ever; taller, thicker, and strong as hell. Stronger than you for sure.

“You don’t go nowhere ‘less I say you do,” his other hand shifted on his gun, “you got me?”

“What are you-- I didn’t… why are you being mean?”

“Me? Honey pie, you been avoiding me and I’m mean?” he snarled.

“I wasn’t avoiding you, I’m just... busy,” you whimpered as he squeezed your arm so tight it throbbed, “you’re hurting me.”

“You’re hurting me,” he hissed, “you think I got time to be comin’ down here on duty to find you?”

“You didn’t have to--”

“I did,” he barked, “I had to make sure you weren’t hussyin’ around with any other boys, like I found you last week.”

“I told you, that wasn’t--”

“Shhhhh,” his hand flew to your chin and forced your mouth shut, “I don’t got the time for this, honey. I’ll be around tonight and you’ll wear a pretty dress for me, won’t you?”

You clenched your jaw and nodded stiffly as his thumb toyed with your lip. He smiled and the tension left his grasp.

“Good girl,” he drew away and squared his shoulders, “you be ready at six and don’t keep me waitin’ again.”

“Yes, sir,” you croaked.

“Mmm,” he nodded with a smirk, “you know, I think I do prefer ‘sir’.” He bent and kissed your lips before you could turn away. You let him and he stood straight again and adjusted his belt, “six o’clock, honey pie.”

[cherienymphe]

Til Death Do Us Part (Bucky x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, loss of virginity, alluded to Mafia!Bucky, arranged marriage

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers​}

summary: after your arranged marriage has served its purpose, you bring up the inevitable topic of divorce. It is only then do you realize that you and your husband might not be on the same page.

~

You hummed as the Keurig made that annoying almost growling noise you hated, but it signaled that your coffee was done so you supposed you couldn’t hate it too much. When you turned it off, the only noise in the otherwise quiet kitchen was the sound of your spoon hitting the mug as you stirred. Truth be told, it was the only sound in the entire mansion.

Bucky was upstairs, in his office, doing God knows what. You didn’t make it your business to put your nose in the details of his business. At one point it might have mattered to you, in the beginning – like the first week of your marriage beginning– but you had long moved past that. You pursed your lips as your thoughts ran rampant, confusion and impatience starring in them.

You took a sip of your coffee and glanced upwards towards the ceiling. The inevitable conversation to be had had been weighing on your mind for weeks. You and Bucky hardly talked, husband and wife in name only, but you figured that now was as good a time as any. With a sigh, you glided out of the kitchen and made your way upstairs.

The house you lived in was obnoxiously grand and much too ostentatious for your tastes, but you’d known what kind of life you were marrying into when you walked down the aisle. You’d known when your parents had told you his name, it all having been arranged for you without your consent or knowledge. For a year you’d lived a life that made you just a bit uncomfortable. Jewels, fancy parties, private jets, etc. It just wasn’t for you, never had been despite growing up around that. It didn’t matter now though. Soon you’d be free of it.

You knocked on his office door without hesitation. Despite your loveless marriage, Bucky was never cruel to you, just indifferent, and you were the same. Anyone else would have been worried to disturb him but considering the two of you talked maybe once a week, you knew he’d be more curious than anything else as to why you were seeking him out. Although, there was really only one reason and you were positive he’d been expecting you at some point.

“Come in,” his gruff voice carried through the wood.

You strode inside with a small smile. He didn’t return it, but that wasn’t unusual. He hardly ever smiled. You found yourself frowning a bit as you registered the slight confusion on his face.

“Hey. Sorry to disturb you…”

“No, it’s fine. Sit down,” he softly replied, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk.

You settled in, fingers trailing over your mug.

“I didn’t think to bring you a cup,” you suddenly said, apologetic.

“It’s fine,” he waved you off, pushing whatever he was working on to the side. “What’s the matter?”

You cleared your throat, sitting up straight, and his eyes narrowed at you.

“I… I just thought I’d-we’d address the elephant in the room.”

His brows furrowed, and he dropped his pen on the desk before leaning back in his chair, hands folded in his lap.

“What are you talking about?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Come on, Bucky. I’m talking about the ‘D’ word here,” you chuckled.

His expression did not change, and you found yourself getting irritated with him, something you hardly ever did. You didn’t hold in your scoff, and you took a sip of coffee before continuing.

“Divorce,” you deadpanned.

His blue eyes widened, and his face fell as he registered your response. You were confused yourself now as you watched him hastily sit up, leaning on his desk as he stared you down.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

A sinking feeling festered in your gut, and it was beginning to hit you that maybe you two weren’t on the same page after all.

“Oh,” you quietly murmured as you looked down.

“Y/N, what the hell are you talking about?”

Your eyes met his as your shoulders sagged.

“Bucky, this marriage was arranged in every way a marriage could be, purely so you could inherit your grandfather’s money. He passed two months ago, so I thought the topic of divorce was coming any day now,” you told him, speaking as if you were talking to a child.

He merely blinked at you, so you continued.

“From the beginning I knew that this marriage had a purpose, and while I might have hoped it would be something more, I learned fairly quickly that we were both just…waiting it out…”

He finally moved, rising to step around his desk and sit on the edge of it, facing you. He pressed his hands into the mahogany as he shook his head.

“That’s…that’s not…,” his words died off as his frown deepened, something in his eyes that you couldn’t name yet.

“We’re husband and wife in name only. Its only true on paper,” you chuckled. “In the entire year that we’ve been married, we have never slept together. The only time you kiss or even touch me is when we’re at some event with hundreds of eyes watching our every move.”

His shoulders sagged too as he looked at you. You smiled at him.

“I don’t blame you for anything you may have done outside of our marriage. I don’t care,” you honestly told him with a shrug.

His face pinched at that, and you watched his jaw tick as his eyes narrowed.

“Why not? Have you been doing anything outside of our marriage?” he demanded.

You reared back at his harsh tone, never having been on the receiving end of it.

“No,” you scoffed. “…because our marriage is a farce. I don’t feel like your wife in any way, shape, or form. Not even close! I don’t feel like you’re mine just as I’m sure you don’t feel like I’m yours. We’re two strangers who live together, so I couldn’t care less about what you do and who you’re doing it with.”

You stood.

“We were both just biding our time. Besides, your family went through a great deal of trouble to make sure you married a virgin, so I wasn’t just going to sleep with any man that smiled at me if that’s what you were thinking. It never mattered much to me before, but I do still at least have the chance to make sure it’s with someone I love. I suppose I can thank you for that,” you whispered.

He was quiet, and while this wasn’t out of character for him, this silence felt different. You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I…I really thought we were on the same page-.”

“No…we are. We are,” he said with a nod.

He held your gaze, and you finally placed that look in his eyes. It was a look of realization, as if you were pointing something out to him that he’d never noticed before.

“You…are absolutely right. About everything,” he breathed.

“I really am sorry for springing this on you-.”

“You didn’t,” he quietly interrupted. “You’re right. It was a conversation that needed to be had.”

You nodded, and an awkward silence descended over his office as you two eyed each other.

“If it’s any consolation, you were a good husband,” you told him.

The corner of his lips curved upwards ever so slightly.

“I mean it. You were always nice to me, and I mean, look where I am,” you gestured around. “I’ve never had to want for anything, and you never demanded of me what husbands expect from their wives. Not once in an entire year, and I’m grateful for that.”

He swallowed, nodding.

“I’ll draw up the paperwork,” he said as you turned away.

“Alright.”

He called your name when your hand was on the door, and you looked over your shoulder at him.

“There’s an event I need to attend tonight,” he suddenly said.

“Okay,” you sighed. “What’s the attire? Anything I should wear in particular?”

He eyed you, blue eyes darkening in a way you’d never seen before.

“Wear the green one,” he eventually murmured. “You always look great in that.”

You eyed him for a bit with a frown before eventually throwing him a small smile.

“Will do,” you chirped before closing the door behind you.

The expensive emerald fabric clung to you like a second skin, and you smoothed your hand down it for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. Bucky pressed his fingers into your waist, pulling you closer as his lips grazed your ear.

“You look wonderful. Stop it,” he quietly admonished.

“You know I’m not fond of these soirees. Nothing more than a dick measuring contest,” you scoffed.

You felt his eyes on you, but you were busy looking around. The only upside to these events was reuniting with Nakia and Pepper. Occasionally Nat would be here too, but that was rare. Nat never did anything she didn’t want to do, and this wasn’t really her thing either.

“Looking for someone?”

You turned towards your husband, finding his blue eyes entirely focused on you. His tone was…odd, but you shrugged it off.

“Just Pepper or Nakia. I usually meet up with them whenever you’re off with Steve and Thor and whomever else,” you distractedly answered, smiling over his shoulder as you spotted familiar auburn hair.

You pulled away from him and briefly laid your hand on his arm as you moved to go around him, but you were halted when he reached out to grip your wrist. Confused, you turned to look at him and watched as he sent you a small smile, a rare sight.

“Why don’t we stick together for the evening…”

Your brows rose in surprise as your lips parted, at a loss for words.

“Uh…sure. Okay,” you slowly replied.

He pulled you closer, and your eyes widened. You glanced down when he started to rub circles into your wrist with his thumb.

“I just…really want to enjoy your company tonight,” he explained.

You finally shook yourself out of your stupor, chuckling.

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Bucky. I was just…a little surprised is all,” you said, allowing him to pull you along.

The grand building was full of people with money and impure intentions, networking, scheming, or looking for a bedfellow for the night. You smiled politely whenever your eyes connected with someone else’s, unsure if you’d ever get used to the constant stares that always followed your husband, and for the past year, you as well.

However, you felt a genuine smile creep along your lips when you spotted familiar blond hair. An equally familiar blond was standing next to him, his booming laughter reaching your ears. They were chatting amongst themselves, waiting for Bucky no doubt. Steve was facing the two of you, and his smile widened when his eyes met yours. Thor followed his gaze and jumped to action before Steve did.

“Y/N!”

“Thor,” you greeted when he pulled you into a hug.

“I feel as if it has been ages since I’ve last seen you,” he said as you pulled away.

“I’m pretty sure this is the first time she’s remained at Bucky’s side after getting through the door,” Steve teased as he pulled you into his arms.

You laughed and heard your husband grumble behind you.

“That’s hardly true,” Bucky defended.

His arm returned to its place around your waist when Steve finally let you go. A server passed you carrying a tray of flute glasses, and Bucky reached out to grab two. You sent him a grateful smile as you took it from him, turning away to listen to Thor before he had a chance to return it.

As the night wore on, you found yourself lost in thought more often than not. It wasn’t that Thor or Steve were boring, far from it in fact. Occasionally, you added something of substance to the conversation, pulling laughter from the three men, but all too soon you felt yourself drifting away again.

It was the first time you and Bucky were ever together during one of these soirees, and you wondered what had changed. You felt yourself growing uncomfortable with his close proximity, his body heat mingling with yours, the tightening of his arm around your waist. Downing the rest of your drink, you gradually pulled away. Bucky’s eyes were inquiring when they met yours.

“I just need some air,” you quietly told him, handing him your empty glass before walking away.

It was a warm night, but the air inside felt hotter and stuffier than that of the balcony for some reason. You took a deep breath, placing your hands on the railing as you looked out over the city. You’d grown up here, but the city life was never for you. You hated the noise and the fact that you couldn’t see the stars at night.

After the divorce, you’d move somewhere more remote. Not a backwoods town straight out of a horror movie, but somewhere quaint. Somewhere far away from Bucky’s, and your parents’, lifestyle. You’d probably meet some nice guy with a boring job, but it was what you wanted. You had nothing against your husband, but you didn’t want to end up with someone like him.

You glanced over your shoulder as the noise from inside briefly reached your ears. You smiled at Steve as he closed the door behind him. He had two drinks in his hand, and you shook your head when he offered you one.

“No, thanks. I’m not much of a drinker, and I’ve already had one,” you told him.

He chuckled.

“You and Buck are so different,” he said, standing beside you.

“Well, you know what they say. Opposites attract,” you sarcastically replied.

He didn’t respond right away, but when he did, he took you by surprise.

“Bucky told me about the divorce.”

You looked at him, blinking.

“I’m sorry,” he eventually said, looking at you.

You let out a soft chuckle.

“I always knew you two gossiped like school children,” you joked before waving him off. “Trust me, there isn’t anything to be sorry about. I’m sure you know by now that our marriage was hardly real anyway.”

Steve frowned at you, leaning against the railing now.

“How do you mean? I mean, I know it was arranged, but…”

“Then I’m sure you know it was only so he could inherit his grandfather’s money,” you told him.

“Well…yeah, but I’m sure that’s not the only reason,” Steve tried to argue.

You almost pitied Steve. He was such a romantic and was clearly struggling with the knowledge that his best friend’s marriage was a sham.

“Steve,” you spoke like you were talking to a child. “Bucky and I are practically strangers…”

He blinked at you, shoulders sagging a bit.

“You’re kidding,” he whispered.

“No,” you sadly replied, shaking your head. “We’re husband and wife in name only. There’s literally nothing about our relationship that would indicate we’re married.”

“Nothing?” Steve wondered in disbelief.

You shook your head with a small laugh.

“I figured you knew all of the details. Bucky tells you everything…”

“Apparently not,” he mumbled, taking a sip from one of the glasses. “…and you’re…okay?”

There was concern in his eyes when they met yours again, and you threw him a reassuring smile.

“I promise. Since the beginning it was obvious what this really was. His grandfather has passed, and Bucky has his millions,” you said with a shrug. “There’s no reason for us to stay together.”

“This is a lot for me to process,” he whispered, looking dazed. “So…you’re just going to do what? Leave?”

“Yeah,” you breathed. “This lifestyle was never for me. I’m not sure where I’ll go yet, but…it’ll be somewhere quiet, I know that.”

“It’s a shame. You grew on me,” he said.

You glanced at him.

“You too…and Thor, and…as much as I hate to admit it…even Loki,” you reluctantly confessed.

Steve laughed.

“He’s such an ass, but he’s the funny kind.”

“Depends on your taste in comedy,” Steve argued.

“Well, I think he’s funny,” you defended.

Steve chuckled into his glass.

“Better not let Buck hear that,” he whispered with a teasing grin.

“What? Why?” you questioned, leaning in.

Before Steve could answer, the noise from inside traveled to you, and you both turned to see Bucky standing in the doorway. His blue eyes flickered between you two before he threw you a smile. It didn’t reach his eyes.

“Ready to go?”

You straightened up.

“Sure,” you said, glancing at Steve. “I’ll see you around, Steve.”

“You guys drive safe,” he said. “You should probably let Y/N drive, Buck.”

“Like that will ever happen,” you threw over your shoulder. “Bye!”

Bucky was quiet when you both made it back inside. That wasn’t unusual, but his silence tonight was stifling. It put your nerves on end. Before you could even think to question him, his hand was on your arm. You almost stumbled in your heels as he pulled you along.

“Hey,” you protested, but it was as if he didn’t hear you.

He didn’t wave anyone goodbye on the way out, and he was incredibly short with the valet as soon as you made it outside. When you finally stopped, you attempted to pull away from him, but his grip only tightened. You winced and glared at him.

“Bucky,” you called, but he ignored you.

With a huff, you looked away from him as you both waited for his car to be pulled around. It had started to grow cooler, and Bucky’s hand on your arm felt like a heating pad. When the boy finally pulled the car around, your husband wasted no time in dragging you towards the passenger seat. His haste caused you to stumble, and you gasped when your heel broke.

“Bucky-!”

“Get. In,” he harshly interrupted, practically shoving you into the car.

You barely slid your foot inside before he slammed the door. You blinked at it in shock, eventually moving to pull your seatbelt over you. You glared at him when he slid into the driver’s seat, yanking the door out of the valet’s grip to slam it shut.

“What the hell is your problem?” you demanded just as he sped off.

He didn’t reply, knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. You stared at him, waiting for an answer, and when it was apparent you weren’t going to get one, you looked away with a huff. The silence in the sporty car was thick and filled with tension. Only, you didn’t know why.

You knew that in a line of work like his, it required Bucky to do certain things or act a certain way. You knew that he wasn’t as docile as he seemed with you, but that was just the thing. You’d never been on the receiving end of it. Not once in your entire year of marriage.

You were the first out of the car when he pulled into your driveway. You clutched your heels in your hand as you stomped into the house, not even bothering to look back. You didn’t hear the door open and close until you were in the kitchen, staring sadly at your ruined shoes. You would love to get them fixed, but Bucky was so wasteful. He’d tell you to toss them and then get you a new pair.

They hit the bottom of the trashcan just as he strode into the kitchen. You barely spared him a glance as you made your way to the fridge. As much money that goes into those useless black-tie events, you’d think they’d be able to provide decent food.

“What…”

You paused at the sound of his voice, turning and looking at him from beneath your lashes.

“Nothing to say for yourself?”

You frowned at him before straightening, slamming the fridge shut. His jaw was clenched, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at you, blue eyes the coldest you’d ever seen them.

“Excuse me?”

You were positive you’d heard him wrong. He walked towards you, pressing a hand into the island in the center of the kitchen, staring you down.

“The divorce papers haven’t even been written up yet, and you’re already batting those long lashes at Steve,” he quietly spat.

You reared back in shock, mouth parting as you registered his words and the fact that he was entirely serious. You raised your hands in surrender with a humorless chuckle.

“You’re drunk, and I am not entertaining this,” you said, moving to walk past him.

He yanked you to a stop, and you pushed your arm against his hold, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Let go of me,” you demanded.

“Am I wrong?” he sneered, breath reeking of alcohol.

You finally escaped his hold, stumbling into the fridge from the force. Your eyes were wide and filled with confusion as you glared at him.

“What is wrong with you?”

Bucky slammed his mouth shut, staring at you for a painful amount of time before glancing away. He swallowed, jaw ticking as his eyes met yours again.

“I don’t want a divorce,” he quietly admitted.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stared at him in shock. You must have heard him wrong…you had to… You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came out. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, and you let out a soft disbelieving scoff. You blinked a few times.

“I’m…sorry… What?”

Bucky’s eyes softened.

“I don’t want a divorce,” he repeated with more confidence this time.

Again, you stared at him in shock, mouth gaping like a fish before shaking yourself out of it. You frowned at him, looking at him as if he’d just grown two heads.

“No,” you cried, shock coloring your tone at his audacity.

He blinked, clearly taken aback.

“What?”

“No,” you firmly repeated, moving to leave the kitchen.

He was suddenly there, hand on your arm and blocking your path.

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

You stared at him as if he were crazy before eventually crossing your arms over your chest. Your face was entirely serious.

“Bucky…I’ve wasted an entire year on you,” you deadpanned.

He flinched as if you’d slapped him, brows furrowing.

“I’m sorry if that hurt your feelings or offends you, but…just because I haven’t been miserable, it doesn’t mean that I want to continue with this.”

He didn’t respond so you continued.

“You have what you want. We did our part, and you have your money.”

“I know that…”

“Well then…what is this? What’s happening, right now, because I am extremely confused?”

He reached for you before thinking better of it and pulling his hand back. He looked you over, blue eyes the most emotional you’d ever seen them. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip before speaking.

“I… I want to know you. I mean, we’re married, and…I don’t even know you-.”

“You’ve had an entire year to get to know me. An entire year!”

“I know that,” he whispered, looking away.

“Then where the hell is this coming from?”

He opened and closed his mouth, eyes almost desperate as you shook your head at him.

“God, you’re drunk. You are so drunk, right now, and had I known, I never would’ve let you drive home,” you whispered, moving past him. “You could’ve killed someone!”

He followed.

“See, this, this is why you can’t leave,” he frantically whispered, grabbing your hand, and turning you to face him.

You frowned at him.

“You’re nothing like me. You’re not selfish and you care about people and…”

He reached up to cup your face, and you swatted his hands away as you stumbled back.

“Bucky, you’re drunk!”

“That doesn’t change anything! You are still my wife!”

“In name only! In the entire 13 months that we have been married, you’ve hardly looked at me, acknowledged me, hell, you have never even touched me, given any indication that we are a couple! N-now all of a sudden you don’t want me to leave? Are you kidding me?”

He placed his hands on his hips, staring you down with tears in his eyes, nostrils flaring.

“So…so what? You’re just going to leave me, and then run off with Steve?”

“Oh, my God, not this again,” you groaned, placing your hand on your forehead. “I can’t believe this right now…”

He pointed a finger at you, a dark strand kissing his forehead.

“I saw how he was looking at you! The minute you told him that our marriage wasn’t really a marriage, at all-.”

“You were listening?”

“The minute you told him that, he looked at you entirely different! You are his dream girl,” he mockingly whispered. “You want a nice picket fence in the country with a dog and a cat…”

“Stop it. That is your friend,” you reminded him.

“Who apparently has been eyeing you for a while if it took almost nothing for him to start eye fucking you the minute he realized you were never really mine!”

You reared back, realization hitting you square in the chest.

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “That’s what this is about…isn’t it?”

“No-.”

“It is,” you sneered. “You don’t want me…but…you don’t want anyone else to have me.”

He reached for you, and you stepped back.

“That’s not it. I do want you,” he slowly said.

“Yeah, now,” you scoffed.

“No,” he shook his head. “That’s not…”

“When I came into your office, you were completely taken by surprise… You had never even thought about divorce. Not once,” you said, more to yourself than him.

“Y/N…”

“Did…did you just expect us to continue like this forever?”

You stared at him in disbelief.

“No! Never,” he said, resting his hand on your arm.

“Are you sure? Because that’s…that’s what it’s looking like,” you tearfully said.

Bucky’s eyes were pleading.

“Everything you said to me that day was true. All of it was completely true, but the worst part was that...I had never noticed. I had never paid any attention, but the more you talked, and the more I thought, I realized that you were right, and that somehow, I’d let an entire year just slip by. Hell, even tonight, Steve noticed that we never stick together at those stupid events!”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“How does an entire year just slip by?”

“Y/N…I want us to stay married. I want us to be husband and wife in every sense of the words-.”

“Yeah, now that I want to leave,” you scoffed, pulling away from him. “Now that you’ve run around with God knows who.”

“I never-! Y/N, it isn’t like that,” he said, following you as you made your way towards the stairs.

“Isn’t it?” you threw over your shoulder. “An entire year, you’ve done whatever you want and acted like I don’t exist, and now that divorce is on the table, suddenly, clarity hits you and you want to pay attention to your handy dandy little wife whom you realize has been perfectly waiting around just for you.”

“Y/N!”

“It’s the perfect situation for you.”

You gasped in shock when he gripped your dress, and the sound of tearing fabric hit your ears. You turned to look down at him, eyes meeting his own wide ones before he stared at the fabric in his hand in shock. You looked down at the ruined dress and sighed.

“Y/N,” he whispered, apologetic.

You held your dress together as you turned away from him, ascending the stairs.

“Sleep it off, Bucky.”

“No, not until we resolve this,” he spat, following you.

“There’s nothing to resolve. We’re getting divorced and that’s that,” you said, heading towards your room.

“Y/N!”

“Leave me alone, and go to bed,” you yelled, picking up your pace.

He did the same, and soon you both were running through the hall of the large mansion. He reached out to grip your hair just as you went to turn the corner, and you yelped in pain as he pulled you towards him. He turned you to face him, and you pushed against him.

“Bucky, this isn’t funny,” you cried, pushing him away from you.

He stumbled, but he righted himself with a vengeance, slamming you into the wall. You winced, opening your mouth to talk sense into him when his lips met yours. You yelped against them, eyes wide as he ran his hands over your trembling frame.

“Stop! Bucky, stop,” you begged against his mouth.

He wrapped one arm around you while his other hand gripped your neck.

“I know I never paid attention to you…touched you, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, but let me touch you now,” he whispered against your lips. “Let me touch you like a husband should.”

His words sparked fear in you, and with reluctance, you bit down on his lip. Hard. He pulled away with a yelp, and you slipped from in between him and the wall, rounding the corner to get to your room. You were in the process of closing the door when he slammed against it. You knew you were no match for him, even while drunk, so you pulled away from the door and let him fall inside.

You ran to the phone as he pushed himself to his feet. You were on the first 1 when he snatched it out of your hand, his other hand gripping the back of your neck. You winced as his fingers dug into the tendons, hurting you.

“Bucky,” you brokenly pleaded.

He walked you towards your bed, and you had no choice but to let him. Your feet knocked into each other, tears skipping down your face, but he didn’t care. He shushed you when you started to sob, shoving you onto the bed. You struggled to catch your breath as you bounced against it. You sat up as he joined you, pushing against him, but he slapped your hands away and pushed you back down.

As drunk as he was, he was quick in getting his pants undone, his free hand dragging up your leg, sliding under your torn dress. You tried to pull his hand away, but he was determined. You pushed against his chest again, but one hand was suddenly tightening around your neck as he settled himself in between your legs.

You were shaking now, sobs wracking your frame as he pressed his lips against yours. He slid his knees underneath your thighs, forcing your legs apart as you felt him grip your underwear, yanking them to the side.

“Bucky-.”

Your last plea was interrupted by your shriek as he forced himself inside of you. He let out a choked moan against your lips, breath shaky as he sheathed himself to the hilt. Pain filled you, and more tears fell. He let go of your neck, one hand pinning a wrist down while the other reached up to brush his thumb over your cheek. His forearm rested beside your head, and he gently shushed you, wiping your face as he stared down at you.

“It’ll pass,” he murmured, chest heaving.

“I h-h-hate you,” you tearfully spat at him.

He sighed, eyes softening, looking as if you’d hurt him.

“That’ll pass too,” he whispered.

You pushed your free hand against his chest, but he simply pressed his forehead into the mattress, completely caging you in before pulling his hips back. It stung, and you whimpered, fingers pressing into his button down as he began to thrust into you. His groans filled your ears, and you turned your head away to stare at the wall.

Bucky didn’t like that.

He let go of your wrist and gripped your chin. Your terrified eyes met his calmer ones as he hovered over you, and he seemed more sober now. He brushed his thumb along your skin as he curled his hips into yours again and again.

“Eyes on me, honey,” he whispered.

You squeezed them shut, and he huffed.

“Come on, doll. Don’t be like that,” he quietly pleaded, picking up his pace.

You refused to open them, more tears slipping out. You heard him sigh and felt his lips brush over your cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

You felt like someone was pressing a heating pad in between your legs, and you hated that you liked it.

“I haven’t been treating you right…have I?”

It was taking more effort to keep your eyes shut, and they slowly peeled open. Your vision was blurry, but you could see that his dark hair was brushing along his forehead now, no longer so neat. He kissed you, and your lips trembled.

“I’ve been such a horrible husband. I neglected you,” he whispered, and he sounded pained. “…but all of that’s going to change.”

You didn’t like that you could feel every inch of him as he slid into you, your own body making it easier for him. Although, you suspected that all of it wasn’t just arousal. There was still a dull ache that mingled with the pleasure. His hips stuttered, breath hitching, and your eyes widened. You pressed your hand to his stomach, in hopes to stop him.

“Bucky, you can’t-.”

He swallowed your protests with a kiss, and you grew panicked. You weren’t on anything. You’d never had a reason to be. You were a virgin with regular and bearable periods. There was no need for you to be on any type of birth control. You turned your head away, catching your breath.

“Bucky, stop,” you pleaded, pushing against him. “Please…”

He gripped your hands, pinning them beside your head just as he came inside of you with a groan. You threw your head back, more tears spilling over as he panted above you. He buried his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling.

“You’re mine, and I promise, I’m going to start acting like it.”

      ~

tags:  @xoxabs88xox​ @darkficreposter​ @mcudarklibrary​ @sebabestianstan101​ @villanellevi​ @readermia​ @jtargaryen18​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @nickyl316h​ @opheliadawnwalker3​  @captainchrisstan @coconutqueen21 @nerdygirl8203​ @hurricanerin​ 

[s1ater]

hey queen i’m gonna ask politely for a part two of “high school rivals” i just need it in my life that was one of the best hawk fics i’ve read so mrs gorl do me a solid and write a part two! i will forever be in your debt!!!! anyways love you and all the stuff you’ve written!❤️❤️

highschool rivals, part two. eli moskowitz x reader

summary 📣: in which reader believes hawk is fucking with her when saying he does karate, but he won’t prove otherwise, no matter how much she begs.

warnings 🚫: swearing, drinking , also reader and miguel are only friends (i swear it’s not flirting), uhh

slater’s note 🗯: yuh, finally updated, sorry it took so long i’ve literally had no MOTIVATION but hey(love you bae thank you for giving me motivation to update)

part one, part two

the weekend reached faster than you thought it would, giving you no time to think out a plan on how to set hawk off.

maybe you should’ve just gotten over it, but the urge to egg him on, to watch him snap kept a provoking feeling in the inside of your stomach to keep planning.

you didn’t understand why, but something about hawk just fascinated you, made you obsessed with thoughts of him and what he could do to you.

and maybe the thought setting him off into a rage set you off into excitement of what he would do to you.

pinning you down, overpowering your strength just so he could win, anything and everything to show the dominance he had over you.

oh it was wrong, but so so fun to think about.

saturday morning hit you hard from a rough hangover resonating from the night before with mia and harper, a lot of drinking taking place due to it being harper’s birthday and all she wanted to do was watch old movies and drink till she blacked out.

and oh boy did she really black out.

and so did mia, leaving you up and alone with edward scissor hands playing in the background as your newly drunken mind searched through your phone for something entertaining.

someone entertaining.

your first choice, miguel, him being the first one to pop up on your recently snapped on snap chat.

y/n: i’m bored, come hang out w me

miguel: u drinking yet?

y/n: ye

miguel: i’d come but i’m w people

y/n: uh fuk yow

miguel: aren’t we hanging out tomorrow anyways

y/n: yeh but everyone’s aslep now

miguel: oh facts

eli wants to talk to you

your drunken self had rolled your eyes, sliding out of the chat and into hawk’s snap user who was already typing.

hawk: can i come over?

y/n: no

hawk: awh, why not princess

y/n: shut up

people who lie about being in karate don’t get to come to drinking parties

hawk: oh?

y/n: yeah now leve me alone

...

hawk: miss me yet?

it was like he knew how to play the game perfectly, a game that wasn’t even really a game. just teasing being held between two hormonal teens who made out a couple of times.

he knew exactly how to get into your mind which is why it didn’t take long before he had convinced you to allow him to sneak over to harper’s house, wearing a black hoodie that was draped over his head with miguel following right behind with glasses you had never seen on him before.

“you said you were with people,” you had narrowed your brows, looking over hawk’s shoulder at miguel who was still outside due to you blocking the way in through the sliding door.

his eyes connected to yours after slowly analyzing his surroundings as if something would pop out of the dark at any moment.

“yeah,” he jerked his head a bit, “i’m with lover boy here who convinced me to drive him five miles to a drunk birthday party at two in the morning.”

you studied miguel a bit more better, realizing he had slightly smears of acne cream on his cheeks and forehead, pulling together the glasses and pajama pants look. he seemed annoyed and tired, which made sense since it actually was two in the morning.

“hi,” your eyes drew away from miguel to hawk who smiled smoothly, his red hair peaking out from underneath his hood, dipping down into a form you had never seen it; flat.

“hi,” you replied, slightly shocked before being pulled in closer to him, his cold hands rubbing up and down your waist before peaking underneath your own hoodie.

his cool finger tips pressed into your hipbones, his fingernails slightly curving and breaking into your skin as he tried to get an even tighter hold on you. the pads of his thumbs rubbed up and down against the dips of your stomach as he continued to stare straight into your eyes, calmly.

“so, can we get this train moving or are we gonna stand in the doorway for the rest of the night?”

you couldn’t recall if you had gone anywhere farther than rubbing skin against skin with the boy or his lips pressing against your forehead biding you sweet dreams as he left before the rest of the morning could catch him. the alcohol eating away at all memories and events that had happened between two and five.

y/n: hey, can i head over?

miguel: yeah, eli should be there to let you in

the weekend had entailed a lot of hanging out, saturday implying drinking and just general talking in miguel’s apartment with robby, hawk, harper, and mia.

you weren’t exactly sure if it was a good idea to be drinking day after day but it was your teenage years, whats the worst that could happen?

“you’re early.”

you frowned watching the door open to only see hawk, his expression dead, almost like he was annoyed but he still let you in, leaving the apartment door wide open.

“where’s miguel?” you asked, stepping into the cool apartment from the roasting air, a feeling of relief settling on your skin as you were no longer cooking into a chicken in the hot sun.

“what do you mean?”

“well this is his apartment... right?” you looked around analyzing the small space. it was neat but there was some kind of atmosphere filling the air making the whole area dark.

you sat on the couch watching eli as he seemed to be rummaging around the kitchen, seemingly ignoring you by not answering your question.

“what’re you doing?”

“nothing.”

“wanna spar?”

he looks up, his eyes meeting dead in yours, “shut up.”

“okay...”

the apartment soon seems to fill with a silence quickly and rather awkwardly as you sat there, patting your lap with your hands, switching between each thigh as your mind raced.

do something.

but you didn’t think it was a good idea to do something, it had only been a minute into your arrival and he already seemed snappy.

it was then did you really wish you could remember everything that had happened the night before and as to why it was so suddenly awkward.

it didn’t make sense, he would always find something to talk about, that was one of the first things you had picked up on about him.

“you mad at me?”

“no,” he said it slowly, glancing over to you as you were already looking at him, how shifting your position on the couch.

“why’re you being weird.”

he laughed.

and then... ignored your question.

“what happened last night?”

he looked up from the counter again, you had noticed he was writing something down, making you guess he was doing his homework or something.

he also seemed annoyed, looking over once again to your doubtful state.

“you were drunk.”

“yeah, the killer headache i had this morning told me.”

“yeah...”

“why’re you being to fucking weird?”

“i’m not, jesus,” he snapped at you, his face screwing up with annoyance as well as slight confusion as to wondering why you were being so anxious.

“you seem mad, man.”

“well maybe if you shut-“

“i got the alc!” the sudden noise of the apartment door opened caused eli to cut himself off, looking over to the white chipped door open, revealing miguel and robby.

you clenched your jaw, looking away from the two boys and to the floor, thinking about the sentence hawk was about to spat in front of your face before interrupted.

shut up.

“you two good?”

masterlist

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[brywrites]

Blindsided

Reid x Reader. In which Reid is an expert in human behavior, but misses the signs when it comes to the person who matters most. @imagining-in-the-margins had a decliend request a little while ago that was up for grabs in which the Reader has an eating disorder, and I thought I’d give it a try. CW, of course, for descriptions of disordered eating.

-------

There are signs. Small and subtle, often imperceptible to the untrained eye. The trouble is, his eyes are quite trained. He’s spent a lifetime learning how to look carefully, consider all the possibilities, profile the most minute behavior. But Spencer Reid is still somehow blindsided by this.

Maybe it was her strength. She has always seemed so perfectly balanced, never too thrown off by a hard day at work or an unforeseen circumstance. She seems to excel at her job with ease, she makes friends everywhere they go, and she always knows just what to say when he’s having a bad day. Like a lighthouse, she has always shined so bright, a beacon even when his mind is a hurricane. Maybe that’s why he never stopped to question anything, because she was the steadiest thing he knew.

Maybe it was his job. The months went by in a blur, an endless carousel of cases, a carnival wheel of horrors. There are weeks where he’s only home for a few days at a time before he’s calling her to tell her he has to fly somewhere again. Being away from home means being away from her. He doesn’t see her as consistently, and when he does he’s so exhausted that he loses his train of thought far too often for a genius with an eidetic memory.

Maybe because she didn’t want him to see. Maybe because he didn’t want to see what was right in front of him all along.

It starts with dinner dates. Rather than relishing a night out, she starts making plans for coffee shops or walks in the park. He supposes it’s nice to change things up and doesn’t say a word about it. Besides, it’s much easier to kiss her in a park than it is from across a restaurant table. But then she starts to shy away from his touch. She’ll let him kiss her and often reaches for his hand, but she dodges his hugs. Where she used to gently push things forward in their physical relationship, trying to encourage him to feel more comfortable, she’s suddenly become the reluctant one. Her clothes become loose and baggy and he wonders if she simply isn’t attracted to him anymore. He takes comfort in the fact that her words and actions say otherwise. She still looks at him like a sunrise, her smile is still so bright.

But even that begins to dim. She looks tired sometimes – when he isn’t looking right at her, he swears he catches her reflection or a glimpse of her from the corner of his eye frowning at the floor or staring off blankly into space. Every time he adjusts his focus back on her though, she’s looking at him with a smile. She’s more irritable than usual, that’s for sure. A disagreement will cause her to snap at him or withdraw into herself. One day he goes to meet her at her apartment after work at her request. He lets himself in and waits for her to arrive, biding his time by reading a book and eating a snack. To his disappointment, he finds no sweets – she’s never been big on junk food, but her pantries seem a bit more sparse than usual – but settles down with a yogurt cup that will at least stave off his appetite long enough for them to walk around a museum before dinner.

She comes home smiling, already asking him about his day and telling him about this new exhibit she can’t wait to see with him. She just needs to get a snack and then she’ll be ready, she assures him. But when she opens the fridge, her face falls.

The sound of frantic rummaging startles him. “Is everything okay?” he asks.

“There was yogurt in here, I swear I had a strawberry yogurt left,” she says, more so to herself than to him.

“Oh. I’m sorry, Y/N. I just ate it – I didn’t get the chance to eat lunch today.”

Her eyes narrow. “What? Why would you do that?” The sound of her voice is unusually sharp.

“I – I just, I knew we were going to be out for a while and I just – well–” He stumbles over his words. This is what they always do. His apartment may as well be hers, and she has always told him to make himself at home here. They borrow books and grab snacks from each other, coming and going and forgetting a sweater or a pair of shoes here and there.

“You couldn’t have waited for me to get home? Why didn’t you ask me? I can’t believe you did that!”

He stares back at her, utterly confused. “It’s – it’s just yogurt,” he says.

She presses her lips into a fine line and for a moment he fears she might cry. But then she disappears into her bedroom and comes out ten minutes later in clothes more suited for a walk. He reminds her that she was going to get a snack. She says she’s not that hungry. And he’s too flustered to notice the sign staring him in the face.

As though she’s pulling away from the world, she stops making as many plans with friends. She spends more time at home. Her weekend jogs go for hours while he waits with coffee that is almost always cold by the time she arrives at the bakery to have breakfast with him. One day he bumps into Rina, one of her friends from work. She asks him, offhandedly, if he has any good restaurant recommendations since her parents are coming to visit this weekend. Reid responds with puzzled surprise.

“Sorry,” Rina says, “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. I just figured you must have a few in mind since you and Y/N have been trying all those new places.” He tilts his head and she winces in apology. “I don’t mean to pry! But you know we started doing an office happy hour on Thursdays, and she hasn’t been able to come since you two always have dinner reservations at that time. Of course, based on the places she said you’ve been, it seems well worth it.”

He just smiles through the confusion and offers up the name of a nice Indian place he’s been before. He makes a note to ask Y/N about this, but the BAU gets called away in the middle of the night and all is forgotten in favor of solving the case. It takes five days before they finally do, and Rossi invites everyone and their partners over to his mansion to celebrate. Y/N is delighted to see his team, and for a moment everything feels normal. She’s chatting away with Emily and Morgan, asking Garcia about the community theatre production she’s starring in. It’s all normal. It’s all her.

Then Rossi calls them to the dining room, where there’s more than enough food and libations to go around. Everyone’s plates have already been piled with sautéed zucchini, tortellini alfredo, and garlic bread courtesy of their host, who insists presentation is just as important as taste when it comes to fine dining.

The meal is divine and the company is wonderful and there’s whispers of tiramisu for dessert. Reid doesn’t have a care in the world, all too happy to be eating more than his fill of garlic bread surrounded by his favorite people. But then midway through dinner, Rossi points a fork at Y/N. “You’ve hardly touched the pasta, kid,” he says. “Come on, I slaved over a hot stove for two hours to make that. Do you not like it?”

She looks like a deer caught in the headlights, her eyes wide as everyone turns to look at her and the food that has been artfully rearranged but hardly touched on her plate. “Um,” she says. “No, no it’s great – I’ve just been having such a good time talking to everyone I’m forgetting to eat.” She puts a spoonful of it to her lips, covering her mouth as she chews. “Really, really good,” she insists.

Dinner comes to a close, and he glances over at Y/N, whose plate is now two-thirds empty. Her previously chipper conversation has fallen flat, and she’s staring into space once again. But this time, his gaze on her doesn’t seem to bring her back down to earth. Rossi and Garcia briefly slip into the kitchen and return with a massive sheet of tiramisu. It looks like heaven. He’s beginning to worry that he might have to loosen his belt a notch or two at this rate.

Abruptly, Y/N stands from her seat. “Sorry, I’m not feeling well,” she says, her voice strained. “I’m gonna go get some air.” She flees the room before he can even get up. As fast as his legs will carry him, he runs to the back door to join her outside. She’s sitting on the patio, arms curled around her legs. For just a second he’s afraid the food has made her sick, but then he hears it. Sobbing. She’s crying.

And suddenly it all makes sense.

The weight of the realization nearly knocks him over. How could he not see? How could he have missed this? There were so many cases to keep on top of, so many people to profile, but none of them matter the way this does. The way she does.

Reid walks over and sits down on the ground beside her. When he puts his arm around her shaking shoulders, she doesn’t pull away. “Y/N,” he says softly. She looks up at him, her cheeks wet with tears. “It’s okay. You don’t have to hide this from me. I know.” And then her arms are around him and her face is buried in his chest and he’s holding her as tight as he can. When he feels the sharpness of her shoulderblades, his heart sinks. It’s bad. It’s been bad for a while now, and all this time he couldn’t see it. She was struggling alone with an eating disorder all this time, and he missed the most basic clues. How can he call himself a profiler? How can he call himself her boyfriend?

“I’m sorry,” he tells her. “I’m sorry it took me so long. Please, tell me what’s going on. Tell me how I can help.”

When she finally catches her breath, she has a hard time meeting his eyes. “When I was fourteen, I spent two months in the hospital for anorexia. I was in and out of treatment through high school, but I finally got things under control in college. And they stayed that way for a long time. But five months ago, things starting getting bad again. I don’t really even know what triggered it. Work was getting so stressful, and you had that close call in the field, and my mom visited and spent all this time picking things about my life apart in that passive aggressive way she does and I just… I don’t know. A missed one meal because I was working late. And it was so easy to just miss another. I told myself I should get back in shape, so I tried to eat cleaner and ran more. But then I felt like I was taking up too much space and I didn’t deserve to and I needed to stop. And everything just fell back into place – counting calories, skipping meals, restricting… I knew what I was doing, I knew, but I couldn��t stop.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I’m not mad. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s okay.”

“It’s like I can’t turn that voice off telling me that I’m too much or I’m eating too much and… I didn’t want you think I was stupid or shallow and I didn’t want you to see me the way I saw myself.” Her voice breaks and the sound wounds him. She’s been hurting alone all this time because she was afraid of what he’d think of her. He reminds himself that it’s not a reflection of their relationship, it’s the disorder talking – she’s ashamed and afraid.

“I would never think that. And you’re not stupid. I mean, with an eating disorder, it’s not about the food, not really – it’s a coping mechanism, right?” Albeit a deadly one.

She nods, then sighs, “When everything else is out of control I feel like… like if I can just control my weight, if I can be perfect at this, then it’s okay that everything else is a mess. I know that’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” he assures her. “Y/N, I don’t understand everything you’re feeling. But I do know that eating disorders are like an addiction. And I do understand that. And I understand how hard it is to ask for help.”

“Sometimes,” she says, “I’m not sure I want to get help. And maybe I don’t need to. I mean it’s not that bad, I’m not really that sick. I’ve been worse.”

“Sweetheart.” He smooths her hair back. “You’re crying over a plate of pasta. Now I don’t think that’s silly,” he adds quickly. “But it’s serious. Carbohydrates shouldn’t reduce you to tears. Dinner should have to feel like a battle. You don’t deserve to feel that way.”

“What if I do?” she cries. “I’m such a mess anyways. You shouldn’t have to deal with all of this. With me. You have to fight literal monsters and I’m so weak. I hate that I’m this way. I hate myself.”

Reid places a hand under her chin and gently turns her towards him so he can look into her eyes. They’re wide and teary and so afraid. She’s never looked more fragile. “But I love you. I love you so much. And if you can’t, I’ll love you enough for the both of us. I’ll do anything I can to help you through this. But please let me help you through this.”

“I don’t know.”

He sighs. “I’m going to tell you some things you already know, okay? Eating disorders are the deadliest of all mental illnesses. One in five people will die from their disorder. The complications include heart failure, osteoporosis, gastroparesis, fainting, and kidney failure. Many of them can’t be reversed. This illness is deadly, sweetheart. It’s dangerous. Even if you don’t think it’s that bad, I don’t want it to get worse. I can’t lose you, Y/N. I can’t.”

It’s quiet there in the yard, the sun dipping below the trees, Rossi’s garden lights twinkling on. There’s nothing but the sound of her sniffles and his pounding heart.

“I’ll tell Hotch I’m taking two months off. I’ll be home all the time. You can come over any time it’s getting bad. Or I can stay with you. We can cook together. I’ll go with you to therapy. Whatever you need. You won’t have to do this alone.”

“You have work,” she says. “The team needs you. There are cases.”

“They can solve them without me,” he replies, not missing a beat. “They’ve done it before. I have eighty-four vacation days saved up, they can’t stop me. Look, I love my job, and the BAU will always save lives. But the most important life to me is yours. I missed enough because of work. I’m not going to make that same mistake twice. I love you. Everything else can wait. Okay?”

A long moment passes. “Okay,” she says. “Okay.” He pulls her into another hug and her whole body trembles as she cries. He fights back tears because what she needs is for him to be strong. For him to be here. And he isn’t going anywhere.

When she’s regained her composure, slips his suit jacket off and puts it over her shoulders, like a shock blanket. They walk back inside where he quickly explains that she’s not feeling well and they’re going to head out early. Nobody asks any questions, and for that he’s thankful. Garcia wishes for her to feel better and JJ promises they’ll see her soon.

She asks him to stay with her that night, and he does. He holds her close beneath the blankets as she falls asleep, hoping that she can feel just how much he loves her. If that was all it took to help her heal, she would have recovered in that very moment. But it isn’t that simple. True to his word, he takes time off. He sits with her and helps her find a specialist to see. He drives her to and from the clinic for her extensive outpatient therapy, and when she gets to come home he’s there to offer a distraction while helping her stick to her prescribed meal plan.

It isn’t always easy. She takes hours to finish a meal, going bite by bite and pushing the food into patterns on the plate. He prefers that to the times she yells at him or sobs and he knows it’s not her fault. It’s the disorder. It’s the voice of the demon that has such a strong grip on the love of his life. He lets her yell. He lets her cry. And he lets her hold him tight when she needs some way to anchor herself in the moment, to hold on to something other than her own body and her own fears.

The day she comes home from the outpatient program and says, “I’m missing so much, aren’t I?” is the day he knows things are looking up. “I pushed away my friends and work and I stopped going places because I was afraid there would be food and I stopped seeing you so I could run more and that’s not living, and – and I want to live so badly,” she cries. “I don’t want counting calories and weighing myself to be all that there is.”

“And it won’t be,” he promises her. “You’re fighting so hard to live.”

“What if I do this, all the therapy and all the meal plans and all the work, what if I gain back the weight and everything but I’m still miserable?” she asks. “What if it doesn’t get better?”

Reid rubs circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “It will. You know it will because you’ve done this before. I thought the same thing when I started going to NA, but you know what I realized? I was afraid that nothing would ever feel better but I was more afraid that it would be better. That I’d feel happy and I wouldn’t know what to do because I wasn’t sure who I would be without the dilaudid anymore.” The vicious cycle of getting high and coming down had been familiar at least, and he was afraid to lose anything else, even the habit. “But I was so much better without it. It was hard at first – but after I was so much happier. You’re not this disease. You’re so much more than that, and I will be right here to remind you of that any time you need me to.”

He pulls her into his lap and then lies back against the couch, her head on his chest as he holds her close to him. If only an embrace were enough to keep her safe. If only he could fight off the voices in her head with his own vocal affirmations. It doesn’t hurt to try, so he lists off a litany of things he loves about her. Detailing everything from the easy way she makes friends to the softness of her smile to the way he feels better just seeing her. He praises her generous spirit and her work ethic and the excellent way she kisses him.

“You’re the bravest person I know,” he tells her. “And you always make me feel so brave. Maybe that’s why I missed it. You’ve always been so strong. But you don’t have to be, okay? I know my job is hard, but I can be strong too. I know I can’t break down a door like Morgan,” Reid jokes, earning a half-laugh from her. “And I couldn’t bench press ten pounds to save my life, but you can lean on me. I’m not going to break. Nothing you need is ever going to be too much.” He places a kiss on the top of her head. “Never. Not when you’re everything to me.”

As the final month of his vacation time draws to a close, her smile comes a little easier. She graduates from the intensive outpatient program into regular therapy. And when she comes home that day, he sees it. That smile of hers his back. The light has returned to her eyes, and he can feel how much brighter the world is. His lighthouse his back, but he knows know that she needs him to guide her safe to shore sometimes, too. He’ll be the one to make sure her light doesn’t burn out.

There are signs, small and subtle as she comes back to him. Nearly imperceptible to the untrained eye. But her clothes aren’t quite so baggy. She doesn’t bury herself under sweaters three sizes too big. Her kitchen becomes more than vegetables and protein bars. She goes out with her friends from work. He kisses her on a park bench and she pulls him in deeper.

And Reid knows it’s not over yet, that recovery is long and it is not linear, but his heart lifts when she asks to get dinner with him and he wants to cry when she steals some of the dessert he orders, smiling at him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Thank you,” she tells him. “For loving me even when I couldn’t.”

“You did all the hard work,” he says. “Loving you is the easiest thing in the world. And I’m never going to stop.” It’s a promise he intends to keep. Because he knows it isn’t true what they say – you don’t have to love yourself before you can love somebody else. For the longest time he couldn’t stand himself – but her loved her so much. And in loving her, he found himself. He never liked himself quite so much as when he could love her right. He would love her in all the moments she couldn’t love herself, just as she had for him. And until the end of his days, if she’d let him.  

[infernal-fire]

Long Forgotten

I am choosing to not use warnings. Do not read if you are uncomfortable with themes of infidelity, angst, swearing and sexual innuendos. 

Summary: Your Steve isn’t yours anymore and you’re beginning to understand why. 

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairings: Steve x reader and a surprise appearance ;)

Disclaimer: this is set right after Endgame

A/N: this story was inspired by @nsfwsebbie’s fic please don’t take him (even though you can). it was so damn amazing. i thought of how the situation would go under different circumstances, and added a more strong willed reader into the mix  :)

i tried to proofread but im sort of posting in a rush so all mistakes are my own!

(This GIF does not belong to me)

Your head was nestled in the crook of Steve’s neck and his arms were cradling your tired form. Dried tears left your face feeling dry and your up do from the funeral was now tousled. Steve let out a heavy sigh and held you a little tighter. 

You could fall asleep if it weren’t for the looming stress of returning the stones so you decided to bide your time by focusing on the super soldier’s unnaturally slow heartbeat. 

“We should go, sweetheart. They’re waiting for me.” his voice broke the placid silence that had enveloped the room. 

You silently got off the bed and Steve’s hand nudged yours, stopping you from reaching the door. 

He slowly pulled you towards him and you met him halfway, face-to-face.

“I know things aren’t great right now. But we’ll get through this,” he spoke lowly as his large hands cupped your face. They felt rough against your supple skin, but his touch was as tender as ever.

You stared into his eyes for a moment before speaking. "I’ll come with you,” you offered.

“No,” he affirmed. His tone was firm yet a touch of softness was reserved in there somewhere, just for you.

“I love you Y/N. I’ll love you no matter what,” he said as he pulled your head into his chest and engulfed your body into his. 

//

You reached the new, mini version of the previously destroyed time travel contraption Tony made. Sam, Bucky and Professor Hulk were engaging in light conversation that clearly, none of them were interested in. You look up at Steve, who was as tense as ever, clutching your hand like a vice. He let go and glanced back at you before joining Sam. 

You knew deep down that Steve would never be the same anymore. Hell, after the Battle of Wakanda, Steve almost ended the relationship because the Avengers lost.

But the Avengers won this time, and things should feel different. So why did it feel like he was leaving forever? 

You recalled the very short conversation you had with him about Tony’s snap.

 “I should have snapped,” he sobbed. 

“You’ve always been selfless your whole life. This was Tony’s time to be selfless, and you don’t get to take that away from him.” You hugged him and cried with him. 

There was nothing else to be said.

How much you wished no one had to die. 

He stood on the platform and nodded at Bruce before locking eyes with you.

Apologetic. He looked apologetic. 

At the time, you thought he just looked sad. You assumed it was residual sadness from the funeral but looking back, you realized he looked apologetic for what he was about to do. 

Rebuilding your relationship wasn’t easy. Tony and Nat’s death and the trauma of the battle were overshadowing both of your feelings. You salvaged what you could and life returned to a “normal” that never existed. 

Being an Avenger means your living costs are covered by Tony, basically compensating for the missions. Only there weren’t any missions anymore. You were grateful but it meant that you had a lot of time on your hands. 

You took up a job as a waitress and Steve continued running sessions at the VA with Sam. It was humbling to be serving people at a diner after fighting alongside some of Earth’s mightiest heroes. But you needed it. And slowly but steadily, happiness crept its way into the tower. 

You didn’t see Steve around anymore though. You weren’t sure if you were even together anymore, aside from the forehead kisses and lingering glances.

You and Bucky set the table while you heard Sam and Steve banter over who gets to choose the movie today. Bucky chuckled and called them to eat.

There was relentless teasing, jokes being tossed around and big smiles everywhere.

“The nurse had poked him 2 times at this point and there was no blood coming out of him.” Sam laughed. 

“So she asks me if we can do the other arm.” Bucky snorted through breaths of amusement. 

“This guy pulls up his sleeve and the girl faints.” Sam howled as everyone doubled over in laughter. 

You wiped a tear from your eye and you look over at Steve who was laughing as well. It had been a long time since you’ve seen him so happy. 

Sure, he’d been distant. He hadn’t touched you since he came back. It had been 2 months though, and you wondered if you should try again tonight. You put a hand over Steve’s and he snapped his head to you. He gave you a small smile before slipping his hand out from under yours and picking up a napkin.

He needed the napkin, you told yourself. 

You went up to change into something that he might find more appealing. You were torn between the red lace set or the black corset. You settled for the classic red lace and tied on a robe before heading downstairs to tease him a little. 

“You’re going to tell her before you go right?” You heard Sam’s voice and broke your stride to the kitchen. 

“She won’t be happy.” You swore it was Steve’s voice but it was a little too quiet to be sure. You silently padded toward the kitchen, standing right outside the entrance to hear better.

“Of course she won’t be happy. You went back to be with a girl from 70 years ago and spent 4 months with her. You sort of cheated on her Steve.” Bucky’s voice quipped at Steve. 

You couldn’t be hearing right. Steve went back and got together with Peggy?

“It’s not sort of cheating, he almost got married to her,” Sam remarked in rebuttal. 

He almost got married to her. 

He almost got married to her. 

He almost got married to her.

There was so much information to process. Your shoulder sagged with the weight of the news and you cupped your mouth before anyone could hear your sob. 

“But I came back.” Steve countered. 

“Do you love her?” Bucky lowered his voice and inquired. 

“I don’t know anymore.” 

Your chest heaved and eyes burned. You wanted to gasp for air but you knew if you breathed, you would let out the anguish building in your stomach. 

Your back hit the wall and you slid down, not caring if he hears anymore. 

In moments, Steve, Bucky and Sam appear beside you with startled faces. 

You didn’t look at them as you got up and paced to your room. You thought you heard Steve’s voice calling after you but your thoughts pounded and clawed at the insides of your head. You couldn’t be sure and you weren’t going to turn back now. 

He didn’t run after you. You had predicted that he didn’t want to deal with your hysterical crying which surely could be heard past your room walls. When you considered it, this new Steve was actually quite predictable; you knew he wouldn’t bother bringing it up to you until you brought it up yourself. Because he was a coward like that, you decided. All of his actions spoke for themself and the one true motive behind his cheating is cowardice. You don’t know if you would have been okay with him going back to Peggy, but if he talked about it, things not have ended the way they did. 

After 2 days of not leaving your room, you knew that there was a better way to handle this. It wasn’t you who should be embarrassed; instead of sulking, you marched to his room with newfound determination. 

You threw open his door that he didn’t even bother locking. Steve was mid-speech with someone on the phone, seemingly a conversation that wasn’t going his way. He seemed tense, his muscles protruding from the tight white t-shirt pulled over him. 

Your jaw ticked as you shifted your weight onto one foot and rested on the doorframe, waiting for him to end the call. 

“I’m sorry to cut this short. We have a lot to talk about but it’ll have to happen in-person.” he concluded the phone call and sat on the bed with his head in his arms. 

“Seems like you planned it all.” you commented, trying to sound like you didn’t care. In reality, the wound was still very fresh. Even though a part of you had known that the relationship was over for some time now, you were only coming to terms with it now. 

“I wanted to tell you before I left, but you were just so upset and I couldn’t …” he trailed off. 

“All of a sudden you care about me? And now this is somehow my fault that you were too chicken to tell me,” you retorted, unimpressed with his answer.

“I have always cared about you and always will.” He got up and walked towards you. He cupped your face but you pushed his hand off, glaring up at him. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I admit I could’ve handled everything lot better but Y/N. When you told me Tony’s snap was his moment of selflessness, I realized that all I’ve ever done is be selfless. And I don’t regret any of it. But it was time I chose to do something for myself. Then I remembered Peggy and the life I left behind and I just knew this world would be okay without me so I chose to be selfish. I chose to be selfish, Y/n, and I don’t regret that either.” 

You were crying now, and Steve reached to wipe it off, but you smacked his hand. 

“You used to choose me. You woke up everyday and chose us. The day you decided you didn’t want this anymore, you decided you would just go ‘fuck all’ and cheat on me? You couldn’t have ended it like a normal person?” you questioned through your tears. Your vision was foggy but you kept wiping your eyes, trying not let him see your tears.

He sighed and let a few moments stretch on before he answered.  

“We both know that this relationship was over a long time ago Y/N.”

You noted his use of your name and not the usual pet name ‘sweetheart’ or ‘love’. It saddened you even more to think that he doesn’t associate those words with you anymore. 

“You’re a fucking bastard Rogers. You are the biggest coward I have ever met in my life. You may be the Captain America, but you are the biggest wimp in real life.” You could tell he was fuming because of your comment but you continued your spiel. 

“I tried everything to make this work. The moment that the thought of cheating crossed your mind, you should have broken my heart. Because all you did now was rip it out and stomp on it before spitting on the what’s left-”

“I can’t believe you’re standing here accusing me of not trying to make this work. You know what Y/N? I fucking left Peggy because I thought about you and thought I could make this work. And then I came back and remembered all the reasons why this wouldn’t work and now I regret it. I wish I could go back to Peggy.”

“Go fuck yourself Rogers,” you muttered and turned to leave. “Actually, go fuck Peggy’s skeleton Steve. I curse you with every cell in my body. I hope you never get to see her again. I know you’re trying to go back,” you added before wiping you final tear, once and for all. There was no way you were going to shed another tear on this asshole. 

Except, it wasn’t that simple. You did cry over it more, but if there’s anything you did right, it was making sure he never saw your tears. 

You also found that post-break up glow up’s were a real thing. The lack of missions means you didn’t need to see Steve unless you chose to be in the same space as him. So you chose to make new friends and bring new light into your life. There was no dread clouding your judgment because for once, there was no impending threat on the future of Earth. 

You cut your hair, you changed up your wardrobe and got as fit as you’ve ever been. Your friends made frequent stops at the Tower which eventually turned into dragging you into their bar hopping.

On the other hand, Steve was doing everything he could to go back to Peggy, just like you had predicted. You manifested his downfall. Hank Pym refused to let his work fall into the hands of the Avengers and Steve was having a very hard time convincing him otherwise. The final nail in the coffin was when Hank decided that Pym Particles should not be produced anymore. As long as the world didn’t understand the entirety of the quantum realm, no one should have access to something that could mess with it. No arguments could ensue because there was nothing anyone could say to change Hank’s mind.

As much as Bucky and Sam wanted him to go back, they knew he deserved it for everything you were put through. When Steve found that his friends weren’t on the same page as him, he spiraled deeper into regret and depression. There wasn’t much to be done in terms of world-saving, which is what he was made for. The person he thought was the love of his life is gone now. When the dust settled, he realized that you were the only thing that kept him going for so long. But now he lost you too, and there was nothing he could do get you back. 

While you were out living your new life, Steve was trying to find a life for himself. He would see you around the compound and wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth of your love. What he would do to feel that again, he couldn’t explain to anyone. 

Your escapades were at an all-time high. You knew that single life is the life. Just when you finally concluded that all men were trash, Ransom came crashing into your life. Although he only reinforced this belief, this man wasn’t just any trash. He was your trash. 

He was the mutual of your friends and you seemed to never be able to escape him. Moreover, your friends decided that you wouldn’t escape him. 

The teasing and playful banter between you two turned into something more serious about a year after your break-up. Ransom was everything Steve wasn’t. 

Steve was a gentleman. Chivalrous. Gentle. 

Then you reminded yourself that he had proven to you that he wasn’t any of things anymore. Ransom was the exact opposite, but he wore it on his sleeve. After all the lies and cowardice, Ransom’s blunt and bold attitude was exactly what you needed. 

There were moments you found yourself comparing the nature of the two relationships. With Steve, a lot of it was gentle and soft with some roughness around the edges. Life alongside Ransom was nothing short of callous, but that’s why soft, vulnerable moments felt even more extraordinary and special. 

If you made a judgement based off first impressions, someone like Ransom seems to be more likely to cheat than someone like Steve Rogers. Upon deeper analyzation though, Ransom doesn’t have any skeletons in his closet. He doesn’t claim things easily, but when he does, he would go to any length to make sure what’s his, will stay his. Soon after you realized this, you began abandoning thoughts of comparing the two relationships. 

//

There was a party at the Tower for Sam’s birthday. It was the first time in a long time that you were going to be around Steve for longer than 10 minutes. Doubt began seeping through your determination; how well would you fare under the pressure of pretending to be okay around him? 

“Do we have to match, sugar?” Ransom whined from your bathroom. 

“Why would you even go to an event as a couple if you aren’t matching?” you hollered back. 

You heard Ransom grumble as the bathroom door swung open. The emerald green dress shirt with small gold polka dots complemented his eyes so perfectly. Ransom was about to complain again before seeing the look of awe on your face. He decided right then that he could suck it up for the night. 

You were wearing an emerald green cocktail dress with sheer black net covering your shoulders, your sleeves reaching your elbows. The material was different, but the print was the exact same as Ransom’s. He couldn’t help but wonder why you put so much effort into such little things. He made a mental note to do something like this for you another time before wrapping his arms around your frame, burying his face into your face.

“Ran! My hair!” you squealed as you tried to push him off. 

“Usually it’s me that takes this long to get ready. You trying to impress the Captain?” Ransom winked and sat on your bed. 

“Oh fuck off.” you rolled your eyes and added the big bow to your half up hair-do. 

“You look so innocent baby. How angelic would you look with my cum dripping out of your mouth?” he smirked as you dropped your mouth, looking at him through the mirror. 

“My god Ran, this is not the time.” You shook your head and pulled him with you, finally making your way to the party downstairs. 

You were breaking out into cold sweat for some reason. Part of you really wanted to show Steve how happy you were now, but you felt that it meant you weren’t truly over him. Were you making a mistake?

Right before you opened the door the common room where the party was ongoing, Ransom stopped you and looked right into your eyes. 

“You know, as much as I’d like to make your ex jealous, if you don’t want this, I could think of a lot of other ways to spend the night,” he winked and you blushed. This is exactly why you liked him so much. There was no pressure to be anything but yourself around him. Even if you told him you wanted to go back to your room, there would be no judgement on his behalf. He wouldn’t ever bring it up as a joke either, because he just knew what he could and couldn’t joke about. 

“Let’s do this, bubbles” you giggled. He groaned at the nickname and pulled you into his side with one arm, opening the door with the other. 

One of Ransom’s many talents was making an entrance and this event was no exception. As you walked through the entrance, Ransom kept his head high and pulled you along with him. His confidence began rubbing off you and within a few steps, you stopped slouching. Straightening you back and tossing your hair behind your back, you bathed in the glory of the looks you and Ransom were getting. He took you straight to the bar, smiled at you and ordered drinks. 

“You know, your ex was fuming in the corner,” he remarked as he sipped on his drink. 

“No!” you laughed incredulously, unable to imagine Steve begin angry over Ransom’s presence. 

“It’s true, look for yourself,” he calmly retorted. His eyes flicked to a corner of the room and you followed his gaze there. Steve looked away upon seeing you look at him but it was clear that he was flustered. Bucky stood beside him, entertaining a gaggle of girls, but Steve’s attention was clearly elsewhere. 

“He’s actually pretty hot in person, it’s making me jealous” Ransom nonchalantly mentioned. 

You threw your head back and laughed. Your doubts of whether this was a good idea were dissipating very quickly. 

Ransom chuckled and then looked at you intently. You looked back at him, the high of the laugh wearing off because of his intense stare. 

“I think I’m in love with you.” you blurted. 

“You know, I’m glad you said it because I did not want to say it first.” he snickered and you playfully punched him. 

“Ow! I’m just kidding, don’t go all Avengers-mode on me!” he fussed.

You pulled him into a tight hug. He peeled your head away from his chest to cup your face and give you a light kiss before whispering ‘I love you too.’ You started to tear up, thinking of all the pain you had to go through to get this moment of tranquility with your favourite person in the whole, wide world. 

He cooed and kissed your forehead. 

“I always got you.” he assured and pulled your head back into his chest. You smiled and broke away from the hug, sitting back on the bar stool. 

“I think you transferred your lipstick because you have a dark red lip mark on your forehead.” 

You groaned and frantically wiped your forehead. 

“Hey,” he caught your wrist. “Why don’t we go back up and fix that?” His eyes glinted in the dim lights and you giggled like a schoolgirl as he pushed through the crowd.

In that moment, and every moment after it, Steve was long forgotten. 

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[goddessofmischief]

Blue Monday, Part 1 - Loki x T.V.A.! Reader

Episode One... ‘Welcome to the T.V.A.’

Summary: Loki finds himself in an unexpected location, with a very unexpected partner.

You can read Chapter Two here and Chapter Three here! ...For the first time in his life, Loki Laufeyson was confused. Deeply confused.

All of it... it had all begun minutes ago, just minutes. But it felt like hours.

Minutes, since he had grabbed the tesseract (He’d thought himself so clever then - he was less sure now.)

And since then... he’d been launched into another dimension.

Launched into another dimension. Some thoughts feel stupid, even as if you think them. But there was no other phrase for it.

He’d been surrounded by a group of cloaked persons, then dragged to a location he could not quite place.

Now... now, he stood in an elevator.

And what an elevator it was. There was... a man, standing next to him, who he had not noticed before.

He was a hard person to sneak up on, he prided himself on that. But he couldn’t place blame with himself - this was something else. New magic.

So unlike his. So much... more colorless.

This was earthly magic, devoid of wonder or curiosity. It knew itself. It had bounds.

And he had absolutely no interest in it.

“You’re taking me somewhere to kill me?” he said to the man, who looked despairingly ordinary.

“No, I’m taking you someplace to talk.”  Loki stared straight ahead.

Everyone always wanted to talk to him - it was what he had to say that they liked less.

“Well, I don’t like to talk.”

“But you do like to lie. Which you just did - cause we both know you love to talk.”

Okay, well, that settles it - he knew not when, and he knew not how - but he would kill this man.

Until then, he would... bide his time.

Find out where the elevator was taking him.

Go deeper to the depths.

"How long have you been here?” The man shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s hard to say... y’know, time passes differently in the T.V.A.”

The T.V.A...

That was the name stamped on his prisoner’s uniform. But why? “What does that mean?” The man merely shrugged again.

“You’ll catch up.”

...

He would slowly, with time, begin to regret that he had come quietly.

When he’d called the place earthly before - well, he had been right. The building was extremely boring. But it became less so with every dropping floor. By the time they had arrived at floor 2T13, it bore almost no resemblance to the building he had first entered.

And this room...

Well, this room was something else.

It nearly resembled a church, in some ways. But there were two armed guards at the front - no, it was a courtroom.

A courtroom. Of all Midgardian things.

But this was not like any Misgardian courtroom he had ever seen. Behind the judge, who was the only person present, except for his escort and the guards, were three large faces, carved into the back of the wall. The judge herself was enough a matter of interest. She wore a cross expression and a red sash, and seemed displeased with him being there.

“Who’s this?”

“Loki Laufeyson,” answered his escort. “The Asgardian, remember?” “Of course. We’ve been expecting him. Crimes?” “Murder. Attempted murder. Attempted overtaking of New York City.” “Gracious,” said the judge. “Attempted!”

“What’re you sentencing him to, Judge?” The Judge appeared contemplative. “Life.” “What?” snapped Loki. He had almost no idea what he was being sentenced to, but he was quite sure he didn’t want to do it for life. “I agree. Judge, surely we can work it down,” his escort offered. “Very well. 2,000 years... or 200 missions. Whichever he arrives at first.” Loki swallowed.

“I’ll brief him,” promised the man, and then he was swept into another elevator and gone.

...

The interrogation room was hardly any less dismal. The ceilings were high, square shaped, and there was almost no light. What light there was made small, geometric patterns on the floor, nearly impossible to see.

“I think I can imagine what you’re thinking,” said his escort. “You’re trying to figure out how to escape. You don’t even know what we’ve brought you into, and you’re trying to escape it.”

Loki chuckled, tapping his fingernails on the small, wooden table.

“Oh, you have no idea. I’m going to burn this place to the ground.”

“You may as well hear us out,” said the man. “Let me introduce myself. I’m Mobius. Mobius M. Mobius.”

“Good name. Easy to remember.”

“And this is you,” he said, placing a hologram puck on the table. An image of himself from moments earlier, fighting in New York, appeared. “...Yes.” Mobius switched out the hologram puck, reigniting it. This time, an image of his older self appeared... longer-haired, and grinning, and shouting something about being Asgard’s savior.

“And this is also you.” “...No,” Loki uttered, shaking his head.

“Well, I’m afraid, yes, it is,” said Mobius. “Except... it’s you a little bit farther down the road from now. You saved Asgard, Loki.” “Why?” “Oh, one reason or another, but you got there. But do you know what the problem is, though?” “Do tell me.” “You die. Yeah, not long after. It’s a sad thing, really.” “No.” “Oh, yeah. It’s a shame. But... you know, I’d like to talk a little about the T.V.A. first. What we do here.”

“Go on.”

“We alter time, you see. Keep it in order. And we had to alter quite a bit of time to get you here, Loki. And do you know why?” “Enlighten me.” “Because we saved you. Like everyone else here, you were saved from a timeline that wasn’t... uh... entirely beneficial for you, let’s just say.” “You reference my untimely death. How do I die, anyhow?”

“Well, I can’t tell you that. It’d mess up the book... say, Y/N, would you mind bringing in the book?” At that moment, the strangest creature he had ever seen in his life entered the room.

You were incredibly beautiful, and he noted that. Were you on Asgard, he wouldn’t have hesitated to attempt at gaining your affections. But here, your arms were crossed, and you wore a pair of dark, denim-type pants, and a long-sleeved, grey shirt. In your arms, you clutched something - paperwork, it seemed.

"This is the book,” you said, quietly, holding it tightly.

“The book?” “He’s not ready for the book,” said Mobius. “No, I’m ready for the book. Give it to me.” “You can’t have the book,” you insist. “You can only learn from it. The book... sees that which has not yet been seen. By us, anyway.”

“So, it’s a magical, future-predicting book.” “Pretty much,” you said, at the same Mobius uttered “Think of it more as a map.”

“A map?” “It will tell you where to go. Where to be. And the tesseract... the tesseract can take you there. At the point we are at, here, in the universe, we are a gateway to every dimension. All things are happening around us, all the time. We are eternal - never changing, never aging.”

“Who placed you here?”

“She was brought here by me,” Mobius said, nodding to you. “And I was brought here by the Creator.” “The Creator?” “A supernatural being. Now that he is gone, I’m in his place. He is not capable of dying, but he is capable of fading away, as he did... scattering his atoms throughout the universe, creating something new. He will always exist, in some way, acting through us. He has been here since the beginning of time, like Ego, like the Grandmaster. We all called him the Creator - well, I just called him Stan.”

“And all that work here, are they... like me?” Loki was looking at you, specifically.

“No,” said Mobius, insistently, also looking in your direction. “We choose... humans with special talents, too.”

“What’s special about her?”

Your cheeks flushed, and you took the opportunity to leave the room.

Mobius shrugged.

“She is waiting.” “Waiting?” “Yes. She knows that she is written in the book, too, though she doesn’t know what, or... why. People cannot see the pages in the book that are written for them, it’s just me that knows. But I’m unable to change or help it... and unable to tell anyone. But she is here for a reason.”

“But she is useful?” “She is. Exceptionally clever. Terribly determined. I have mentored her, until now. Now, she mentors you.”

“Her? A human? I’d hardly find us compatible.” “Think of her less as your mentor and more of your... companion. She understands the system - the book, and its workings. You may have to do some of the heavy lifting, but I assure you, without her, you wouldn’t be able to travel more than a few feet. You - the both of you - will need each other. You’ll come to see that.”

“And what if I refuse?” Mobius shrugged. “You can spend eternity in our prisons, for all I care. That’s what we do with interferers around here, Loki. And you’re an interferer if we ever saw one. We’d just rather you worked for us, is all. And... if you sign this... 200 missions. Just two-hundred missions. Then we’ll put you back in your timeline, and you can go die, for all we care.”

Loki sighed, eyeing the contract on the table.

It would seem... he had no choice.

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