#and sometimes my brain replays memories over and over and over that I don’t want to think about

[area51-escapee]

I understand that not everybody is going to like me but sometimes I remember this person I knew in high school and I’m like. WHAT was your beef with me

[babysukiii]

regina’s puppy (4)

// regina has a soft spot for you, but when she refuses to accept why, someone else might swoop in and take your attention away from her. //

warnings: soft!regina, fluff, pining, LOTS of pining, regina is falling for the reader hard, reader is a gay mess, regina is a lesbian who’s terrible at emotions. (don’t get too used to fluffy chapters this is the calm before the storm…)

(this part 4 of the series, read part 3 here)

you end up replaying gretchen’s party in your head over the weekend. you can’t seem to stop thinking about the look in regina’s eyes when she saw you and dani talking. it was the angriest you’ve ever seen her, and then afterwards she just pretended as if it never occurred. yet it was engraved into your brain like a branded memory; permanently there for you to think about at night.

you couldn’t figure out why regina was so enthralled by you… if you could call it that. as you started to become more aware of what dani said on friday night, how you were regina’s “puppy”… it caused you to overthink a few things. this entire time you thought regina was getting closer to you all of a sudden because she enjoyed your company. now you feared it was because she just wanted some new pet to play with.

you and regina had developed a routine on the nights you couldn’t convince your parents to allow you to stay the night. she’d call you, and you’d talk for hours; sometimes till you fell asleep. though saturday night you used a flimsy excuse of being at your grandmas house; she new it was a lie. then on sunday, you barely texted her at all. she knew something was up right away, and she wasn’t going to tolerate it.

as soon as you walked out of your house to catch the bus on monday, regina’s jeep was parked on the side of the street. your heart immediately began to flutter as it usually does whenever you see the blonde. she rolls down her window, and you catch a glimpse of how gorgeous she looks. your legs have a mind of their own as you begin to walk up to her car, furrowing your brows. “don’t you usually pick up gretchen on mondays?” you question, and she shrugs, flashing you that colgate smile that makes your knees week. “she can take the bus. get in, loser.” she taunts you.

you can’t help but sheepishly smile as you get into her passenger side. “she’s gonna freak out. she was texting the group chat all weekend about how her parents found puke in her grandmas ashes.” you giggle, and regina lets out this strained laugh that isn’t her usual one. “yeah, i tried calling you but you were busy.” she grumbles, and you tense up slightly. “and you were dodging my texts. what gives?” she asks, as she begins to drive. she doesn’t turn on music like she usually does, only showing you how serious she is.

“i just couldn’t stop thinking about what happened on friday.” you start cautiously, and she frowns, an agitated expression etching itself onto her features. “seriously? that fucking bitch deserved a slap, y/n.” she defends herself, and you flash her a look. “i’m not talking about the slap… i mean, i’m actually surprised you didn’t do worse.” you joke softly, trying to lighten the heavy tension in the air. regina lets out this tiny exhale; if it weren’t so quiet in the car you may not have heard it. that’s when you take in how wrought up she seems, as if she’s been stressing over something.

surely she wasn’t stressing over you avoiding her for two days… right?

“then what is it? why are you being weird?” she questions demandingly, sounding genuinely upset. “because i can’t stop thinking about what dani said!” you huff out, sounding the most frustrated she’s ever heard. upon seeing your exasperated demeanor, she calms down slightly. realizing something was actually wrong. “y/n, everything that loser said was bullshit—“ she starts, but you cut her off, “she was right though! i am such a different person now and it’s only been a month.” you counterpoint, causing her to bite her tongue.

regina hates to be interrupted, but she really enjoys you and whatever it is that’s budding between the two of you. she doesn’t want to lose it because some stupid jock said something at a lame party she only went to in order to save face. “and you don’t like who you are? you don’t enjoy the way we’ve been hanging out all the time?” regina questions, you shake your head. “i love spending time with you… but dani called me your puppy, gina. is that seriously what people think of me now? is that what you think of me?” you ask persistently.

the blonde shakes her head rapidly in disagreement. “i don’t think of you as my puppy… just because you have the qualities of one, doesn’t mean i consider you one.” she tells you, and you frown. “how do i have the qualities of a puppy?” you can’t help but ask, and she shrugs. “loyal, obedient, always happy to see me.” she flashes you that infamous smile, and you roll your eyes in response. “y/n, dani is just jealous because you’re hanging out with me and not her. she only said that to get under your skin, and clearly it worked.” she states, and your silence causes her to reach for your hand.

her touch sends shockwaves throughout your body. “don’t be angry at me over some comment a dumb jock made because you wouldn’t go into a basement with her.” she practically pleads, and you know it’s the closest thing you’ll get to any sort of comfort from regina george. “besides, don’t you like hanging out with me?” she questions, and you throw her a look that says “are you serious”. “of course i like hanging out with you, you’re like my favorite person.” you admit, and regina feels something tugging on the heartstrings she didn’t even realize she had.

“then stop listening to what anyone else says.” this sounds more like a command, so you find yourself nodding dumbly. your brain always goes fuzzy whenever she tells you to do something, and the only coherent thought is to do whatever regina says. god, maybe dani was right, you are regina’s puppy.

you walk into school with the blonde by your side. you’ve adjusted to the gawking students that ogle regina as she walks by. you really don’t blame them; ever since freshman year you’ve been one of those people who gaze at her in admiration. until now. regina’s strange interest in you hasn’t gone unnoticed by anyone else, and you’re now beginning to adjust to all the attention.

“please never make me take the bus again!” gretchen exclaims as she storms up to the both of you, and regina rolls her eyes. “i had to pick up y/n today. you’ll survive.” the blonde sounds unamused, causing gretchen to huff in response. “i already said i’m sorry, even though it’s totally not my fault i have a totally hot basement that makes people horny.” she says, and regina narrows her eyes at her friend. “we discussed this already. i’m going to be taking y/n to school from now on.” her tone is up for no disagreements, and you shake your head in protest. “it’s okay, gina. i don’t mind taking the bus—“ you start, but she cuts you off.

“i like picking you up. hush.” she shushes you quickly, and you try to ignore the way the back of your neck heats up. gretchen pouts, but doesn’t argue any further. as the three of you approach regina’s locker, karen bounces up to you guys. “did you guys here about the new girl who’s transferring here tomorrow?” she asks curiously, and regina quirks a brow in clear interest. “a new girl? why wasn’t i informed about this?” she questions, and karen shrugs. “i heard it from arnold who says he heard it from elizabeth g.” she explains, and the blonde presses her lips together tightly.

“a new student nobody bothered to tell me about… huh.” she says as she thinks about it for a moment. “she better be more interesting than the last new student we had. jeanette renolds is such a bore.” the blonde adds simply, and that’s that. the topic of the “new student” doesn’t come up again. at least not in front of you.

during lunch gretchen begins to talk about how close homecoming is, regardless of it being 3 months away. “you’re running for homecoming queen again, right regina?” gretchen asks, and regina glowers. “of course i am. why wouldn’t i?” she responds with a question, before looking at you. “are you going to vote for me to be homecoming queen?” she asks, her voice flirty and sweet. your cheeks flush under her gaze, “of course, i voted for you last year too, gina.” you confess, and this elicits a large smile from your favorite blonde.

“everyone voted for regina last year, and this year it’s not gonna change. i don’t even think you need a campaign manager this time either.” gretchen says, and regina rolls her eyes. “i am my own campaign manager, idiot. but i have y/n to help me with more stuff this year, like what color scheme i should go with.” she says suggestively, as her gaze flickers over to you. your eyes widen in slight panic, “what?? i can’t pick your color scheme! i’m terrible at picking out stuff. i mean, you chose my entire wardrobe.” you remind her, and she shrugs.

“don’t care. your opinion is the only one that matters to me, so we’ll start looking at dresses next week. for you too.” her tone is left for no debates, and you don’t really pay attention to anything past “your opinion is the only one that matters to me”. the heat rises to your neck and face, and regina’s grin deepens. “are we still hanging out after school, or are you bailing on me today again?” regina pointedly asks you, and you nod eagerly. “we can try that new pretzel place—“ regina cuts you off, “you’re so cute, i can’t do too many carbs but i’ll get you pretzels on the way to where i’m taking you.” she declares, and your eyebrows perk up.

before you can question the blonde the bell rings, “i’m not doing anything after school—“ gretchen tries to say but regina cuts her off. “i didn’t ask, and you weren’t invited.” she hisses, and gretchen huffs. nobody dares question why regina is so adamant on spending time with you; especially alone time. honestly, you’re a bit scared to ask her as well. not because you think she’ll be mean to you, regina is never mean to you, no, you’re just afraid you may mess up whatever this is.

you’re ashamed to admit regina has become the center of your universe. she takes up all the spaces in your brain, and you can’t even go an hour without thinking about her. you and regina end up hanging out after school as promised. you end up sitting in the passenger seat of her car, a medium sized lemonade in your hand along with your mini pretzel bites. regina steals glances at you every now and then; you contentedly hum along to the song that’s playing as you curiously gaze out the window.

the only thought that keeps circling her mind is how much she likes this. just being around you.

“are we going on a hike?” you ask your hundredth question, and regina groans. “no, i hate walking.” she reminds you, and you have this adorable expression on your face as you think about other possibilities. the further from town you get, the further your mind wanders. “the beach?” you ask, and she shakes her head. “nope; i hate getting sand in my shoes and car.” she deadpans, and you go quiet for another few seconds. “we’ve been driving for almost forty minutes… what time are we coming back?” you inquire, and regina rolls her eyes, feigning annoyance.

“you already wanna leave me?” she responds with a question of her own, and you shake your head rapidly. “no! i love hanging out with you, i just gotta text my mom and let her know before we end up somewhere with no service.” you explain yourself, and regina pretends as if she’s thinking about it for a moment. “just tell your mom you’re gonna spend the night at mine.” she orders, and you flash her a look, “gina, i can’t spend the night on a monday.” you remind her, causing her to huff.

“fine, tell her i’ll have you home by ten-thirty.” she mutters begrudgingly, and you smile in satisfaction. you send the text to your mom right as regina turns onto another highway to leave town. “okay, now i’m really curious! please tell me where we’re going.” you sound more excited than before, and the eagerness in your voice tugs on the blonde’s heartstrings. “it’s just a little place i like to go when things are too much. todays like the first pretty day we’ve had in awhile, and i wanted to take you.” she reveals, causing something inside of you to melt.

“y-you wanna take me to your spot?” you sound genuinely stunned, and regina snorts. “duh, who else would i wanna bring there? gretchen talks too much, karen doesn’t know what’s going on half the time, and everyone else only hangs out with me because i’m “regina george”… it’s only natural for me to take my special girl to my special place.” she retorts easily, causing the blood to rise to your face. regina smirks as she notes how flushed your cheeks are; she doesn’t think she’ll ever get tired of the affect she has on you.

“we’re almost there; finish your pretzels.” she commands, and you don’t have to be told twice.

the sun is nearly setting by the time you both pull into a secluded area off a random road in the middle of nowhere. you can’t help but wonder how regina knows about this place; how long she was driving to find it one day. as she drives further into a green grassy area full of trees, with beams of sunlight peaking through the gaps in the tree lines. your eyes widen as she drives further, only going deeper into the beautiful woods.

you roll down your windows excitedly, “oh my gosh this place is so pretty!” you squeal tempestuously. regina tries not look at you in fear she may swerve and ram into a tree, but your sudden uncontrolled behavior causes her to smile widely. if anyone she knew were to see it, they would hell froze over. she’s glad you aren’t paying any attention to her, because you would’ve seen the unusually soft expression on her face. you turn to look at her, catching her grinning from ear to ear, “we haven’t even gotten to the really cool part.” she tells you, and your eyes enlarge as they gaze into her.

“cooler than a literal forest out of a picture book!?” you ask and she chuckles, “you’re way too easy to impress. i’m starting to think i could park behind the 7/11 with you for an hour and you’d have fun.” she murmurs, and you shrug as you look back out the window. “as long as it’s with you.” you say this so easily, and it causes her smile to fall. her expression morphs into a baffled one, and she can’t stop herself from wondering why... why do you enjoy being around her so much?

regina makes a slight turn, and you let out this breathless gasp as your eyes land on a creek with a waterfall. it isn’t big, but it’s beautiful. “oh my god… gina! this is so beautiful!” you shriek erratically and you unbuckle your seatbelt as you the car comes to a full stop. you run out, and her eyes widen, “hey! i said i hate walking!” she hisses, trying to sound angry but she can’t even recognize herself.

if the girls heard me right now, they’d never respect me again.

“come on, gina!!” you order her, and regina— the girl who never takes orders from anyone— sighs as she turns the car off and gets out. “look at how clear the water is!” your enthusiasm causes regina to approach you, and act as if she hasn’t already seen this place a hundred times before you. it looks different when you’re here… regina can’t seem to place why. she isn’t sure if she’ll ever enjoy coming here without you again, and she doesn’t care. all she can do is stare at how the light of the sunset reflects off your big, wondrous eyes.

“if i would’ve known you liked this place so much, i would’ve brought you here awhile ago. i just never thought of bringing anyone till now.” she admits softly, and your smile deepens, which is something she didn’t even think was possible. “you haven’t bright anyone else here?” you ask timidly, and she nods earnestly. “just you.”

her confession causes you to wrap your arms around her, hugging her abruptly. her eyes widen a bit; she’s never been the hugging type… yet as your delicate grasp tightens around her lovingly, in a way she’s never felt, she can’t help the way her stomach flutters pathetically. she hugs you back, and can feel you practically melt into her. you’re so happy, and it hits her that you’re happy because of her. she’s made people cry, yell, curse, and run in the opposite direction… but she’s never made anyone feel happy.

the fleeting thought alone terrifies her like nothing else ever has. regina george is falling in love with you, and she isn’t sure how to stop it.

a/n: please don’t hate me but tumblr wasn’t letting me tag some of your accounts 😭💔

taglist: @xvyzxx @spideyznss @whateveryouwantsee11 @alwaysgoodnight @chaoticcoffeequeen @mcu-junkie @lottienatswife @vanessashands @natashas-whore @southelroys @dandelions4us @ylenabelxva @probs-reading-fanfics @dont-emily-me @luz-enjoyer @flocon-neigeux @jjiwoo06 @aminetil @pyro-les @tyler-06 @justlovemaths @teenybean @emskies @tulipatheticee @marvelwomenarehot0 @syddie-reads @slaysksmska @cas-is-weird-ig @scarlettbitchx @pianogirl2121 @puppy-danvers2016 @messsor @dmenby3100 @that-one-little-soybean

[caustinen]

hollywood au - how does Gale feel about Bucky doing intimate scenes in movies? is there any project that Bucky rejects because Gale doesn’t want him to do it?

another lovely question!! everytime i think i don’t have anything more to offer to this au these kinds of questions appear and i find myself writing another essay 😂

hollywood au! sexy scenes in bucky’s movies 🫨

gale has seen approximately million sex scenes in his life (we have to remember that before he was a john simp he was already a film bro) so he’s used to seeing them with or without john and he doesn’t really care most times, even if they’re not his favorites he can rationalize it well.

however. HOWEVER. he and john have been together for a long time, and it’s impossible to completely separate the images he sees on screen from memories of sensation — the rational part of your brain can only do so much. and because john happens to be a very good actor and is often cast in heart throb roles, he’s also a pro at doing a sex scenes, and the way he portrays want and enjoyment can sometimes be very close to the real thing, leaving gale hot and bothered in the theatre. he might even squeeze bucky’s hand in his by accident or, also completely accidentally of course, drop his hand to the thigh closest to him in the dark audience.

but really, sex scenes don’t make him jealous, because they are so strictly choreographed and staged. kissing scenes, on the other hand…

it’s the same thing with kissing as with sex, he’s a grown man who’s seen hundreds of films, he knows it’s acting and doesn’t mean anything. he knows bucky is crazy about him. but maybe that’s exactly why he lets that feeling sometimes grow in his chest when he watches his boyfriend kissing someone else; jealousy is a nasty feeling, but there’s also something exciting about it when it can be explored in this safe environment, it’s almost more like a roleplay to let himself feel jealous every once in a while.

(mostly he just feels melancholy sometimes when bucky’s been away for a long time filming far away and he tells him they’re doing the intimate scenes that day, then he feels jealous he can’t be there to do that stuff for real with bucky but it’s directed at the universe more than the actor playing against him)

in conclusion, maybe sometimes gale gets a bit more worked up after they’ve seen a film where bucky is intimate with someone else. maybe his fingers wander a bit more, maybe he’s draped a bit closer as they chat with others after the screening; maybe he’s staring into his boyfriend’s eyes everytime he puts something in his mouth and keeps saying innuendos or loaded inside jokes until john get’s the message and they can go home so gale can have a replay of those sounds and expressions of pleasure, just for him

i think i hc’s somewhere before he’d also be easily inspired by some of bucky’s roles/costumes/films, i might need to revisit an idea about gale getting some nsfw propositions that include john in a pilot uniform 🤭

as for what kind of films he’d ask john to reject… this is super interesting because my initial idea would’ve been nothing, like gale’s personality and love for art would overcome any personal preference. but that also means that he has high standards for films he likes and since bucky trusts his judgment over anything and they discuss the scripts together, i’d think gale’s personal preferences would sometimes shine through a bit. i don’t think he’d tell bucky not to audition for a role just because it includes a lot of intimate/sex scenes, but like i mentioned before i hc this gale loving text over everything so he’d be looking for the reason for all of the intimacy — are the sex scenes there just to sell to certain audiences or aesthetically show beautiful people (which is also fine and has a time and place) or does it move the plot or characters along — how does it function with the text overall? he’s not a prude and he’s never gonna say ”oh don’t do that” for a shallow reason but these would be the things he’d probably notice in a script 🤔

maybe the only time he (and bucky for that matter) was really disturbed by a script was when it was clear it was basically their story reimagined with LOTS of unnecessary sex scenes in it, like super inappropriate project overall and the development team had the nerve to ask real john to star with some random person portraying Gale; he didn’t have to tell john not to do that film that time 😅

hope these were okay!! have a lovely day 💘

(more of hollywood au)

[oldwritingm]

I LITERALLY LOVE YOUR WRITING AND WANTED TI REQUEST SMTH🙏🙏🙏

basically a ninjago fic where the reader is lloyds little sibling who inherited more of their dads dark element. Bc if this the reader has a short temper and they tend to lash out sometimes. So the team tries to train them to work on power control. But one day they get mad at lloyd bc of an argument surrounding their dad who died bc of the events from the tournament of elements so the reader accidentally hits lloyd with their dark power. Lloyd is hurt for a while and the other ninja (who were watching the whole time) come to lloyds aid. the reader takes a double take and starts to feel guilty but feeling ashamed they run away to a secert spot that only them and lloyd know to reflect. A few hours later, when lloyd is healed up, wu urges him to go and find the reader because the other ninja have been trying for hours but haven't found them. So lloyd, reluctantly goes to find them and goes to their spot having a feeling they would be there. They both sit down and start to talk/apologize to each other and even talk about the past,(which includes their dad). And it ends with them joking around at their spot. 🤍

Thanks pookie hopefully this made sense I'm so sorry if it didn't😭!!🤍

Such a cute idea!! Beautifully brilliant brains, all of you <33

Word count: 1.2k

Ninjago - Arguing with Your Brother Lloyd

The gray sky flushed orange as the sun finally breached the horizon, bathing the forest in golden light. The bright rays made you squint, but you had to admit it was a lovely sight. Though it would’ve been prettier, you decided, if the Bounty was actually in the air.

“I have this one memory,” Lloyd said from beside you, “of watching the sunrise with dad. Neither of us said anything. We just watched. It was… nice,” he smiled.

“Don’t get that look in your eye,” you warned him.

“What look?”

“Like you were just so close with him. I was, too, you know.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t.”

“You didn’t need to! I saw it.”

Lloyd frowned, turning to face you. “Why do you always do this? Can’t we just have one nice moment together?”

“Maybe we could,” you growled, hands balling into fists, “if you weren’t so obsessed with talking about dad.”

“What are you even talking about? Am I not allowed to remember my dead father?”

“There you go again! He was my dad, too!”

“It’s not a competition!”

You snapped. In a whip-like motion you slapped your brother to the ground. His green eyes blazed through his blonde hair as he looked up at you. He lunged at your middle, tackling you to the floor.

You wrestled there on the deck for a moment before you were able to wriggle free. Springing to your feet, you assumed a proper fighting stance. Lloyd mirrored you. Somehow that only fuelled your rage. You felt something dark stirring in you; a feeling you weren’t a stranger to, having inherited your father’s dark side. But you didn’t have as much control over it as he did. When you swung your fist, you realized too late that it was enveloped with a dark smoke.

Lloyd was sent sprawling to the ground. He wasn’t moving. Good, you thought, huffing.

As Lloyd pushed himself off the ground with a weak groan, your adrenaline began to wear off, allowing you to take in the full scene before you.

The other ninjas had rushed out to the deck to help Lloyd, completely ignoring you. As you listened to their concerned voices, a pang of guilt began to settle in your stomach.

The guilt wrestled with your lingering anger. You shouted in frustration before turning on your heels and storming off the ship.

Lloyd swallowed the last of his tea. He rubbed the bandages on his head, wincing as his fingertips brushed the area where he had been hit directly.

“Messing with the bandages isn’t going to help your pain,” Nya chided, emptying the teapot into his cup. “I’ll go make more.”

Lloyd stared at the steaming liquid with furrowed eyebrows. Your argument replayed over and over in his mind. He felt mad and anguished at the same time, but mostly mad. At you. At himself. At the whole situation.

“Looks like your brothers are back just in time for lunch,” Wu said, his back to Lloyd as he looked out the window. “Y/n is not with them.”

Lloyd hummed in acknowledgement.

“They have been gone for some time now.”

“They’re probably just blowing off steam.”

Wu turned around. “I know what it’s like to have a sibling with darkness in them. Do not let that darkness drive you apart as I did.”

Lloyd gripped the teacup. As much as he hated to admit it, Wu was right. With a sigh, he stood up and made his way to the door. Before he left, he looked back at Wu. He could practically sense the grief coming from him.

I don’t want to end up like him. I don’t want to lose you.

He knew where you’d be. They frequently anchored the Bounty here, so you were all pretty familiar with the terrain. The lush woods made for great stealth training, but also good hiding.

He wove his way though the dense foliage, expertly navigating to a little alcove hidden perfectly by a thick ring of trees and tall bushes.

He could hear you talking to yourself. He couldn’t make out the exact words, but he could hear your pained tone of voice.

This was where you always went when you were upset; Lloyd knew because it’s where he’d come, too. It was your secret spot, just for the two of you.

He walked into the alcove.

“Hey,” he said quietly. You stopped mumbling, but didn’t turn to look at him.

“Hey,” you replied reluctantly.

Lloyd sat down next to you. He looked at the green trees surrounding you, stretching high into the sky with their leafy limbs. The foliage rustled as a soft breeze caressed the treetops.

You could both feel the tension. It was getting thicker the longer you sat in silence. At the same time, you both blurted: “I’m sorry.”

Lloyd laughed awkwardly. You just looked at your feet.

“I’ll go first,” you said, surprising him. “I shouldn’t have hit you like that. I didn’t mean to. I was just… really angry.”

“It’s okay. Well, it’s not, but I understand. Wu’s always telling us how dad was the same when they were younger.” Lloyd grimaced. “Sorry, I know you don’t like talking about him.”

You huffed. “It’s not that. I guess… I guess it’s just that I miss him. I miss him and it hurts, and I just want to forget all about it.”

“Sometimes I feel like that, too. But if I forgot all about it, then I wouldn’t have my good memories with him.”

“Aren’t those the ones that hurt the most?” You whispered, tears brimming your eyes.

Lloyd shook his head. “As they say: ‘don’t be sad that it’s over, be happy that it happened.’”

You swiped at your eyes. “I wish he was still here. I wish that stupid tournament had never—never—” Your voice gave way to a sob, and you buried your head in your knees.

“I know,” Lloyd said, his voice shaking a little. He wrapped his arm around you and leaned on your shoulder while he rubbed your back. “Me too.”

You stayed like that for a while, comforted by the realization that you were in the same boat. Ever since Garmadon died, you had been especially edgy around Lloyd. You didn’t realize until now how much you missed him, how much it would’ve helped to just talk with him. You wished you’d done it sooner. Or at least under better circumstances.

“To think,” you began, composing yourself a little, “all it took to get us to talk it out was a little fight.”

“Little? Do you see these bandages?” Lloyd prodded your shoulder playfully. “You may be younger than me, but you pack a punch!”

You grinned. “What, greenie can’t take a hit?”

“Greenie? Pfff—”

You both burst into a fit of giggles.

“If I’m greenie, then you’ve gotta be the fun-sized dark lord.”

“Fun-sized? You little—!” You batted at each other, smiling hugely and laughing. Eventually it escalated to roughhousing on the ground, though (unlike your earlier scuffle) your attacks mainly consisted of tickling.

When both of you had laughed up a stomach ache, you finally gave the roughhousing a rest. You laid on your backs, watching the sky while you caught your breath.

You opened your hand, looking at Lloyd expectantly. With a smile he placed his hand in yours, interlacing your fingers as he turned to continue looking at the blue heavens above.

In that moment—there, on the forest floor, holding hands with your brother—things were more right than they had been in a long time.

Thank you anon for this amazing request!! And thank you for reading! <33

(divider by saradika)

[buildingthegrandtour]

Red Berries

I only wanted to know where I came from.

I don’t know how long i’ve been immured. i don’t die. Or rather, I die many times, but it doesn’t stick. Each time I go down, I dream of a time in my life before falling into the abyss of nothingness, only to come back and do this all again.

This last time I went back to the first memory I ever created. I was small, the world endless streams of new information. New scents, sights, sounds, running through my little brain. They were difficult to grasp. I was being carried away swiftly, the rough rocking of feet pounding on ground as swayed to and fro. There was yelling behind me and whoever had me cradled in their arms. I was not experienced enough in this world to understand what was being said.

It’s like a dream, it fades away without much detail sticking to itself in my mind. There’s no telling what I’ll retain. Some things fade upon taking my umpteenth first breath, others stay with me through several lifetimes.

I have heard languages evolve on the other side of the wooden walls of the Rowan Tree. Heard stories told in snippets of many faceless strangers, their voices echoing through every day, or on random days, sometimes in consecutive days. Then I die once more, a new life begins, the dream of the old death fades away.

It’s an endless cycle that feels like perpetually moving backwards.

How long the lives last feels the same as well. Sometimes it seems longer in the heat, shorter in the cold. Never long enough, sometimes too long.

Today begins with a young man and a young woman speaking to each other. He speaks to her of stars, and she returns with mythology. They become quiet for a second, then she says:

“Kiss me again.”

Ah, kiss. That was a different memory. Fleeting but persistent.

He lays his body down at my feet. I scoot in to put my feet on his side. He shifts to touch my leg, caressing it gently in circular motions. He wore blue and black, his blue eyes concentrating on my face, looking me in the eye when i wasn’t turning away to hide. il etait tellement mignon.

“Come closer,” I told him, in a language so old nobody knows it anymore.

He sat up, his eyes fixed on mine as he crawled to lie down next to me. His right arm slipped under my back, arched to let it beneath me. I rolled over onto him and put my right arm around his torso, lifting myself up to give him a kiss full on the lips.

The memory breaks from there, then falls back into me lying on my side, him on his back, his face turned to look at me as he gives me a kiss. He turns away, his face flush, then sits up. It’s his turn to hide.

I reach my hand out and trace my first two fingers along the line his spine makes on his skin. He tenses at first, then after a few seconds turns around and lays that perfect body of his on mine. He places his lips on mine and i part them to let in his tongue. His arms slip beneath mine, and I put mine around his neck.

It tastes so sweet. I still remember it even after so much time.

But then the memory stops again, and comes back to us naked, him laying his head on my breast, my left arm wrapped around him while my right hand traced the lining of his lips, parting to taste my fingertips.

The memory fades again, and comes back to me saying goodbye to him as he walks away.

I loathe these memories with large chunks of my life erased. It frightens me to skip through time like that, never being able to place how I got from one point to the next. Incomplete.

I shift to get a better look through the cracks where the stacked branches of the Rowan Tree meet. This is a memory that is going to stay with me for a long time, and these two pawing at each other isn’t helping me. I close my eyes, but then I see his face, flashing from one point to another, clothed and naked, kissing and hiding. Constant replay eyes opened or close.

Got to find a different memory.

A shout breaks me from the cycle.

“Hey you two, we’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Get off each other!”

My eyes fly open with the giggling of the girl, as though the sound was my cue to watch them walk away. The steps are awkward as they try to stay close to each other without tripping.

Not much time has passed at all, but it feels like forever.

The light from the street lamp makes it even more difficult to discern the time. Before electricity I could tell night from day, now it’s all the same. The heat signature gives me a better idea, though that only works in certain seasons. With so many deaths and rebirths, my ability to track that has also fallen away.

I’m guessing it is night, for nobody has come for awhile. Or maybe the last couple that I saw just left a moment ago. It is frustrating to try to keep up with time here.

This is how I live.

How did I get here, you ask? Well, that a story that follows me through every lifetime.

Sometimes I remember my precise motivation, this is a time that it is a blur impossible to read. I met with the village’s wise woman for counsel. She held small, colorful pebbles in her hands. She blew into the small opening between her thumbs, then shook the pebbles. She stopped a bit later, opening her hands to let the pebbles drop to the ground.

She leans over to study the aspects of the pebble falls. Where did they fall? How far from each other? Which are closest to me? Which are closest to her?

She shifts her focus from the pebbles to me and back again, repeating this gesture a few times before leaning back.

“You were taken from your mother at a very young age.”

Suddenly my first memory ever created swells in my head until it is all I can think of. And I realize this is always the memory I wake up from. And what I am recalling now? Always where I end before my breath becomes labored and desperate.

How much of my life did I miss?

I’m pulled into another memory. It is late at night, a cool breeze touches my face. It wakes me from my slumber, and I stir from beneath my blanket made from the pelt of a wild animal that fed my family for a week.

I hear voices coming from the light beyond an opening. I follow the sound to see my parents sitting across from each other, sipping the soup made from the plants outside the cave.

“They are going to find her,” my father said, putting down his bowl. “The tribe says there have been people here looking for someone that matches her description. She does not look like us, people know who she is talking about.”

“Relax,” my mother responded, before taking a sip of the liquid stock. She was quiet as she swallowed, immediately picking up the conversation again when her meal finished its trip down her throat. “Nobody is going to tell.”

“We cannot keep her hidden away forever. She has to go out some time. They may come here and see her themselves.”

Liquid dripped down Mother’s front as she lost the grip on her bowl. She righted herself and put the bowl down, wiping the spill with the back of her hand.

“What do you propose we do?” she asked.

“Travel far from here, and leave her with another tribe. They will take her in.”

Mother took the bowl and stood up. She places the dish in a bigger bowl full of water and rinses it out, shaking it to dry.

“Pack things in the morning, we’ll leave at nightfall tomorrow. Bring weapons for wild animals and enough kindling for a few nights. We don’t know how far the walk to the next tribe is going to be.”

The next night I pretended to sleep while my parents fled from our home, Mother slinging my little baby body over her back as I was just learning to walk and could not do it well nor could I do it quickly.

After the third night, Mother was tired of walking. She put me down and walked away in the direction from which we had come.

“It was your idea to kidnap her,” Father mumbled as he took me in his arms and continued the trek.

Not long after, the sun had crept beneath the horizon, leaving the bright white glow of the full moon. Father saw agriculture and tools next to what I would later learn were called huts. Father walked further into the tribe’s roads, and left me at a random door.

“Stay here, and be kind to whoever picks you up,” Father said to me as he swaddled me in my usual blanket. He left food at my side, gave me a peck on the forehead, and left empty-handed.

My thoughts come back to the wise woman, studying me closely.

“Did I ever know my real parents?” I asked her.

Her eyes close and she lets out a sorrowful sigh before answering:

“I’m afraid you were too young to form memories when you were with your real parents,” she answered, her eyes opening on the last word. “But you hear the sound of your mother’s voice every time you recall your first created memory.”

Then the voice comes back again, and I still can’t understand what’s being said as I’m being rocked roughly through the footsteps of my captor running away from whom I now know is my real mother.“

"Can I find her? Is she still alive?” I can feel my eyes getting wider with curiosity, hope surging through my body like a campfire in my veins.

“Yes, she will always be able to be found by you. Though it will not be easy. Find the valley of the sun and in the center take the red berries of the Rowan Tree. Once it has entered your bloodstream you will know the path to find her.”

“Where is this valley?”

How I got from the wise woman’s hut to be standing in front of the Rowan Tree is another part of my life that is missing. I always seem to come back to this part when my breathing begins to speed, knowing that soon the air will run out and I’ll be falling into my death dream.

It is a beautiful tree. Thick, healthy trunk radiating a golden glow from the surrounding light of the sun. It stood majestically at the top of a green hill, a long way to climb, but well worth it for the sight. The red of the berries complemented the bright green of the leaves surrounding them on the healthy branches of the tree.

There seemed to be no shade, no darkness touching this wonder.

I approached the tree slowly, afraid it would disappear if I got too close. It feels like forever passed before I reached the ground where the roots came up and settled beneath the earth. I reached my hands up, my left pulling down a branch as my right plucked berries and stored them in the cup of my palm.

The ground beneath me shook, and the roots came up to form a wall surrounding me. Too late I remember a warning the wise woman had given me.

“Be sure to ask permission from the tree before taking the berries.”

The branches of the tree creating the walls I am immured in always swell the cracks shut, and as I turn my final memory over in my head my breathing slows as the air runs out. I will fall into a new memory before the nothing comes, and start all over again with new memories.

originally posted 9 Jan 2023

[itslottiehere]

you’re no good alone (h.s) - part one

hello beautiful people 🤍 i can’t believe this is happening lmao i’m so scared. here it is: my first writing. i’ve been writing for as long as i can remember, not necessarily fiction, but even random thoughts, journal entries, everything. i’ve always loved it, and always thought about sharing it with others, but never found the courage to do so. but the other night, i had an idea for a one shot and thought it was pretty nice, so i told myself to get over my insecurities and just go with it. what’s the worst that can happen, after all? so here you go, a little piece of me for all of you who want to take it <3

please do let me know what you think! my asks are open and you can send them anonymously as well, if you feel more comfortable. so, without further ado, happy reading!

tw: angst, prescription drugs and alcohol, swearing

word count: 2.6k

part 2 | part 3 | masterlist | let me know what u think here

—

this sucked.

they both knew this was inevitable, but it still sucked.

being apart sucked.

being broken up sucked.

it was a mutual choice: he was always away, she had to graduate college. he had meetings and tour dates and movie premieres to attend; she wasn’t going to throw away all her hard work, those brutal years of studying and exams to follow him. she wasn’t going to let her own life disappear into his.

they loved each other, but love wasn’t enough sometimes.

the fights seemed never ending. they would end up saying the same things over and over again, going in circles.

“I’m just asking you to think about it.”

“you’re asking me to disappear in your own life, and you know i won’t do that.”

“so what do you want to do, huh? what am I supposed to do when you don’t want to be with me?”

“i’ve never said that. i’ve just said that i’m not going to throw away everything i’ve worked for to follow you like a puppy while you succeed in your career, and i have to forget about mine. that does not sound like something so crazy to me.”

“so what? do I have to throw away everything i’ve worked for? is that it?”

“this is where we’re different, harry: i would’ve never asked you to do that.”

harry. she only called him harry when she was mad. she started calling him pet names almost ever since they met, once they became closer.

now they were as close as strangers.

the night they broke up the fight was along the same lines, but it ended up with her packing her bags and telling him she was really done this time, and that that was it for them. she couldn’t do it anymore, neither of them could. she looked at him, told him her last goodbye, and closed the door behind her, never to be seen again.

he didn’t even try to follow her. he knew that breaking up was the right choice. they were miserable when they were apart, miserable when they were together because there was always something to do. they just didn’t work anymore.

so here he was, sitting on his living room floor, two months after that night.

it was around 2am, bottle of scotch in his hand, some pills in the other. he popped a couple of them in his mouth, and took a long swing from the bottle.

he knew it wasn’t a smart idea, mixing alcohol and prescription drugs, but nothing else seemed to make his brain shut up, make his memories about her stop replaying in his mind for even a second.

he was tired.

memories of them haunted his dreams every night, making him wake up with cheeks sticky from the tears he didn’t even know he was shedding. he couldn’t remember a night when she wasn’t in his head.

god, he doesn’t even know if he lived a second in those two months without her on his mind.

his head started to feel lighter. good, fucking finally, he thought. but then he felt like an itch to his fingertips, and before he knew he had his phone in his hand, starting a call.

maybe she would answer?

the phone rings for a while. it was 2am, she probably wasn’t going to expect a call at this hour. was she going to hear the ringtone? he knew her phone was always on silent. maybe not this time. was she going to feel happy he called? or worried because of how late it was? or maybe annoyed because she was asleep and knew this was a late night drunk call?

fuck, if this is how loud his drunken mind was, you can imagine how it is when he’s sober.

his rambling thoughts are cut short by a voice answering: “hello?”

it was a male voice. he felt his heart dropping to his stomach. who was he? what was he doing with her phone? why was he answering? did she already move on? was he the only one who was still hang up on the way they were? was she happier now?

“harry? you there? why are you calling me at this hour, it’s 2 in the morning for pete’s sake”.

what? did the person on the other side of the phone know him? who was he?

he took away his phone from his ear, and glanced at the screen through blurry eyes that signalled that he was intoxicated.

he manages to understand the name of the contact he actually called, and croaked into the speaker: “mitch?”

“yeah dude it’s mitch, why do you sound surprised?”

“fuck. i-i didn’t mean to call you.” he slurred.

“harry, what’s going on? have you been drinking?”

“yup. and something else too.”

“did you take any pills? what kind?”

“just some stuff i found in the bathroom. they are working though, feel lighter already.”

“yeah i can hear that. but you still didn’t tell me who you wanted to call instead of me.”

he stays quiet. even speaking her name out loud hurt him. he couldn’t even bear to do that.

but mitch managed to put two and two together, and the answer was obvious.

“oh no harry. dude, you can’t do that to her. it’s been two months, she’s still grieving your relationship, what would she think if she picked up your call at 2 in the morning just to hear you drunk and high off your ass? you can’t do that to her, and you can’t do this to yourself as well. you can’t keep going like this.”

“don’t you think i know this, mitch? don’t you think i’m tired of feeling like this every single second?” he sighed.

his friend didn’t know what to do. he was at a loss of words, so they stayed silent for a while, when harry broke the silence.

“her last exam was on wednesday.”

“what?”

“her last exam, she took it on wednesday. she was already studying for it months ago, wanting to ace it. it’s her last one before her dissertation. i wanted to tell her good luck, couldn’t bring myself to do that. chickened out like the coward i am.”

“you’re not a coward, har-“

“i didn’t even bother to run after her, you know that? she walked out of my hotel room, bags in hand, looked at me for the last time and all i was able to do was to stand there, in the middle of the fucking room, while she walked out of my life. i couldn’t even bother to run after her, even for one last touch, one last goodbye, one last kiss. i was a coward then, and i’m a coward now.”

mitch thought about how long harry had to have been holding onto those thoughts. it’s been two months since he saw her as well, he caught a glimpse of her walking out the hotel lobby, shoulder shaking and sobs ripping from her throat. he couldn’t even reach her and ask her what was going on before she got it in the first taxi she saw and drove away from them, from harry.

he went into the hotel thinking that she and harry had had yet another fight, which has been happening a lot lately. he heard it — hell, all of them kept hearing them fighting, even though they pretended they didn’t.

so he walked through the lobby, got into an elevator and pressed the button to his floor. he thought about checking in on harry, just to make sure he was alright. what mitch wasn’t expecting was seeing his friend standing like a statue in the middle of the room, looking at the door like he had seen a ghost. he understood that this time the fight was worse than all the times before. he managed to make harry get into the bed, and decided to sleep on the little couch. they both didn’t get much sleep that night, one because of the uncomfortable couch, the other because of her perfume that lingered on the sheets, reminding him of everything he had lost.

“harry, do you want me to come over?”

“no, i’m fine, it’s all good.”

“no harry, it’s not. you’re no good alone now, i’m coming over.”

“no, mitch, seriously. i don’t want you here. if anyone should be here, it’s her. only her. this was her home too. she should be home.”

he asked her to move in with him a couple hundred times, he thinks. this was his home in london, he always though she should’ve lived there with him instead of her flat. it was a little further from her university, but nothing major.

she always told him no, but didn’t explain why. until one night, during one of the many fights, after he accused her of being afraid of making a commitment since she wouldn’t move in with him, she decided to say it.

“you really want to know why i’m not moving in with you?”

“yeah, i fucking do!”

“because i would end up being here by myself most of the time! because you’re never fucking here. how long have you been in america, huh? three, four months? and i should be living in this house, in what you say you want to make into our home, and just imagine the life we should be living while you’re away for months at a time? to mourn a life that we are probably never going to have? do you really despise me that much to wish me this?” she said as loudly as she could, her voice breaking just like her heart.

he hadn’t thought about this. of course, he thought that she would’ve been alone sometimes, but he actually thought that being in their home, she could find comfort.

his heart broke when he heard her insinuate that he despises her. how could he? he loved her, loved her more than life itself. he would never despise her. didn’t she know this?

that night ended up with harry driving her back to her flat, because she couldn’t stay there, claiming she had an early class and her place was closer to uni.

they both knew it was a lie, but neither of them decided to admit that out loud.

they played this game far too many times, and they ended up getting burnt.

“i know harry, i know you want her there. i wish things could be different.”

“yeah. so do i.”

“are you sure you don’t want me to come over? the hotel is about 20 minutes away, i can call an uber and be there in about a half hour, just say the word.”

“no, it’s fine. i need to be alone. guess i have to start learning how to be by myself now, don’t i?”

mitch sighed. he knew he was feeling sorry for himself, and maybe tonight he needed to do just that. and even though it broke him to ask him that, he couldn’t hang up without hearing it from him.

“you’re not going to call her right now, right?”

the line was silent.

“harry? answer me.”

again, silence was all he could hear.

“if you don’t answer me right now, i’m going to come over.”

“why shouldn’t i call her? what’s so wrong with wanting to hear her voice?”

“harry, we’ve just been over this. give me thirty minutes, i’ll be there.”

harry really didn’t want anyone around him right now, anyone that wasn’t her. but he understood that that wasn’t a possibility right now, so he interrupted mitch.

“no, it’s fine. i won’t call her. i promise.”

“harry, please stick to your word. do not call her. not like this. this version of you hasn’t a shot in hell at getting her back. but sober you might. don’t fuck it up.”

he thought about what mitch said, and even if his head was a bit floaty, he knew his friend was right.

“i know, i know, you’re right. i’m sorry i called you and woke you up. goodnight mitch, thank you for being my friend.”

“anytime dude, don’t worry. drink a big glass of water and go to bed now, please, goodnight harry.”

“bye.”

he saw mitch hung up, and his screen went back to show his home screen.

a knife plunged into his heart would’ve hurt less.

it was a picture of her at a carnival. he remembered that day, it was their second date, or perhaps their real first date.

they were actually on their way to a nice restaurant, when she saw the lights from the carnival and her eyes lit up just as bright. so what could harry do if not taking the next exit and take her there?

after about twenty tries at one of those stupid shooting games, both her and harry couldn’t manage to win the stuffie she wanted. so, while she went to look around for something to eat, he begged the vendor to sell him the price his girl so wanted.

his girl, she was his girl since the first moment he saw her.

so when she came back saying that she found a little place that seemed to have a rather large vegetarian menu (she knew he didn’t eat meat and wanted him to eat as well), she couldn’t understand why the hell he was smiling, with that smirk that only meant trouble.

“what’s up?”

“huh?”

“why are you making that face? what did you do? do i have something stuck in my teeth?” she started rambling, like she always did.

“no, no, nothing is in your teeth, i promise.” he smiled at her overthinking mind.

“alright.. so what is it?”

“close your eyes for me.”

“uhm, okay.. if when i open them i see a spider in front of me, just know that i will be walking home and never talk to you again. i’m telling you.”

“alright alright, i promise no spiders.” he cackled.

he put that bulbasaur plushie right in front of her, and told her to open her eyes.

the look she held in them, he couldn’t even describe. the purest look of happiness he has ever seen. then she looked at him and he was hit by the warmth of her gaze. she looked at him like he hang the stars in the sky for her, when all he did was getting her a carnival toy.

“oh my, oh my god, oh my god, how did you - when did- can i hold it please?” she couldn’t even get a complete sentence out, she was so utterly happy she couldn’t even think.

he handed it to her and she hugged it like it was her lifeline. she squinted her eyes closed and the biggest smile spread over her face.

harry had the same smile on his, dimples denting his cheeks. he took out his phone, having to capture this moment so he could look at it forever.

and ever since that night, that has been his lock screen. and he didn’t even think about changing it.

it made him remember that there was a time when all there was between them was so much happiness, so much love, adoration, and joy. and that they did love each other at one time. that he didn’t conjure up those memories, but that they were real, still are and forever will be.

that she really had looked at him with such warmth in her eyes, before she looked at him with nothing but sadness.

that he didn’t dream about her, but she was real and what they had was real.

before he could even process, his phone started ringing again.

but now it wasn’t mitch’s voice that came through the speaker.

“H?”

—

part 2

part 3

[thenatashamaximoff]

Brain On Fire; Ch. 2

Summary: There’s nobody you can trust when your life becomes altered. How will you know what’s real and what’s a simulation?

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Warnings: blood, death, brainwashing, simulations, depression, suicidal tendencies 

Words: 17,507

✎ | ⍟

♞please be cautious of the warnings and read at your own risk♞

┌─────────────⍟─────────────┐ @messuhp​ @the-camilucha​ @screechcat​ @wittle-bunnyboo  └─────────────⍟─────────────┘ ┌─────────────ও─────────────┐ @diaryoflife​​ @cantcontroltheirfear​​ @women-am-i-right​​ @catching-up-with-kayla​​ @obsessed-with-wandamaximoff​​ @beforeoursecrets​​ └─────────────ও─────────────┘ ┌─────────────∞─────────────┐ @myfavoriteficss​ @pinkytoecrust​ @cyncity32​ @romanoffomixam​ @peachbear88​ @magicallymaximoff​ @peggycarter-steverogers​ @theperfectlovestory​ @sushi0989​ @ba-romanoff​ @natashabelovas​ @morbid-gaymer​ @reminiscingtonight​ @when-wolves-howl​ @idontknownemore​ @natashasilverfox​ @sayah13​  └─────────────∞─────────────┘

you do not have permission to repost/translate my work or claim them as your own.

Please note that this story does not glorify depression and everything that comes with it. Do not hesitate to reach out to someone if you are struggling. Remember that you are loved, there are people who love you. Stay safe. 1-800-273-8255 ❤️❤️

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Wanda couldn't take her eyes off of your sleeping form, her head propped up by her elbow as she scanned your thoughts for an opening. Being unconscious, you couldn't keep the fire burning in your brain, your barrier extinguishing into nothing but smoke that distorted a path into your memories. And she fell down a path that you were failing to protect and, the longer she dove into your mind, the more she understood why you were struggling to decipher between reality and simulation. 

To her, it felt like she was looking through warped glass, barely capable of seeing the horrors HYDRA put you through, a new way to mold soldiers to do their bidding. She watched as you replayed several moments over and over in your head, meeting your untimely demise by the hands of the people you had considered family, but what broke her heart the most was the sacred moments you'd have with her or Natasha or both, the amount of trust you show the women… only to meet the same fate as all the other simulations.

She sees now that she can't fully blame you for not trusting anybody, no longer having any reason to be frustrated with your slow progress to welcome her and Natasha back with open arms. And she's clueless as to how to get you out of this. The empty feeling in her stomach was the helplessness she felt throughout her body, incapable of dragging you out of the fire. She wanted nothing more than to hold you in her arms and let you know that everything’s going to be okay, that the three of you would get through this together, but she knew it wasn’t that easy.

She had just moved her free hand to gently place it against your cheek - the need for your warm touch had grown stronger throughout the years they had thought you were dead - when a voice cut through the air. "What is it?" Her eyes flickered over your peaceful face to see Natasha settled in a similar position as her, the redhead looking at the witch with confused concern. "What's wrong?"

Sometimes, Wanda hated how easily Natasha could read her expressions. The former assassin knew something was wrong by the way her eyebrows were slightly furrowed, how her nose was barely scrunched in concern. Natasha could see the way her eyes softened when she looked at her, the sadness hidden behind the emerald greens seeping into the spotlight the longer she contemplated the soft-spoken question that broke the silence in the air.

"I don't think there's any chance at saving her from this, Nat," Wanda confessed quietly, licking her lips and shaking her head subtly. She sucked in a deep breath, looking back towards your sleeping form, not being able to stop her thumb from automatically tracing circles against your skin. “She might be too far gone.”

Natasha pressed her lips together to form a tight, thin line as she, too, looked down at you. All the years she had dreamt about touching you again… she thought she had the ability to be able to do that once more when she had found out you were alive, but now? That would just have to remain a dream. “I’m not giving up.” She looked back at Wanda, sighing out heavily. “I will do whatever it takes.”

Wanda picked her head up to meet the former assassin’s gaze once more, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips as she breathed out slowly. “Together.” The witch nodded confidently, reaching over your body to rest her hand against Natasha’s cheek, relaxing when she leaned into the touch.

“Together,” Natasha agreed. Wanda was still learning how to control her expressions, the former assassin was highly skilled in scoping out the signs of frustration and relinquish that were exhibited on the rookie's face. And just as talented as she was to catch slightly hidden expressions, her skills matched that of her hiding them herself. Wanda couldn't see the exhaustion concealed behind the sparkle of feign hope in the redhead's green eyes.

The only thing preventing Natasha from throwing in the towel was her heart, how it beat so lively for you.

The words of the ladies you had once loved were being planted into your mind. It felt as if you were listening to someone search for a strong signal on the radio; fading in and out in the midst of static, distorted but comprehendible. Together. Was this another one of HYDRA's games? You could feel the faint touches against your cheek seemingly glitching in and out of existence; there one second, gone the next. Was this their way of telling you you've done a good job? Were they trying to reward you for behaving? The desire to believe in the reality of the situation was quickly growing stronger, and you knew that's exactly what they wanted.

And you had to get away.

Wedged between two women would’ve been a dream come true… if they weren’t dreaming of your upcoming demise. Their peacefulness in sleep brought you into a sense of tranquility, too, but it could only last so long. The edges of this simulation were malfunctioning like a TV with bad reception, your vision blurring as if you were incapable of being able to focus on just one thing. You couldn’t tell if it was your imagination or if it was real. 

The lullaby… That was something HYDRA couldn’t have possibly known, right? The sentimental value to it, hummed lowly in your ears whenever you needed to hear the melody. And out of all the simulations you had gone through, this was the first time they had used it. Why would they wait until now to use something so meaningful? They surely should've known you would've been wrapped around their finger if they had exploited the simple cradle song in the beginning.

You had to get out of here without waking them, which is easier said than done. They had you positioned right in the center of the bed, Natasha's arm thrown carelessly around your stomach while Wanda was nestled against your side. If you moved to get up, they'd surely wake. 

The softness the ladies showed you, the realness in their gestures... it made you not want to hurt them - though you've always had trouble before. It made you wish for the idea that this was real and not some twisted scenario HYDRA has conjured up. 

You never fully understood why they're subjecting you to this kind of torture. You never really had the chance to ask them, considering your jaw was always clamped shut by that torturous mask, and when it wasn't, you succumbed to their antics while you were given the opportunity to actually rest. You had preferred the darkness over the light. The light would waver, fake with warmth and love in the form of your friends, your family… the loves of your life. The darkness was the only true thing now, the only thing that brought a sense of comfort to your never-ending nightmares. Because the darkness didn’t lie to you, the darkness didn’t tell you it loved you one second, and stabbed you the next.

This was just another simulation, another test they expected you to pass. 

When Natasha's arm left your stomach, spinning around to have her back to you, you found this as an opportunity to get up. 

"How long have you been awake?" You felt your heart launch itself into your throat at her sudden voice, your eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment to give your mind the opportunity to come up with an answer.

You couldn't bring yourself to look at Wanda, already predicting what'll happen if you see her green eyes, knowing how soft they are when she just wakes up. You'd lose yourself, you'd want to reach out and touch her, to pull her against you. You'd want to let down the defenses you've built inside your head; the fire in your brain, as she calls it. If you looked into her eyes, you'd let her inside. And, simulation or not, that'd haunt her for the rest of her life.

"I don't know." It was honest, truthful. You truly did not know how long you've been awake for; you don’t even know if you ever fell asleep. Their conversation - though distorted - was fresh in your memory. Another way for HYDRA to make you believe you were no longer in a simulation; making Wanda and Natasha seem upset that there was no way to save you, showing their sentimental side in a moment when you were seemingly asleep to get you to surrender. You weren’t going to.

You can’t.

Wanda released a quiet sigh as she rolled over to face you, propping her head up with her elbow. You could make out her face in the corner of your eyes - the bunched eyebrows, the flared nose, the pursed lips, all showing just how worried she is - making you want to tease her at how easy it is to read her expressions. And when she tried to graze the top layer of your thoughts, she was met with the burning inferno you keep tending to once more, only making it stronger and stronger. Her lips formed a pout, something that you had always dreaded. "Why won't you let me in?"

You stared at the ceiling above you, your jaw clenched tightly to fight against the tears burning your eyes. Your answer came out broken, a cracked whisper in the silent room, "I can't… trust you." It was four words that always destroyed you whenever you told her, though this simulation seemed to be a lot harder than the previous ones.

Then again, that's something you always think.

Wanda's lips parted slightly to show her disappointed shock, her eyes growing softer as she stared at you. And, boy, were you glad you weren't looking at her. "Y/N-"

"I've been through this too many times. It all ends the same way." You sat up, kicking the blankets off of you and stirring Natasha awake. You felt the redhead reach for you, but you easily slid out of her groggy grip as you climbed out of the bed. You made a beeline for the door.

Wanda didn't hesitate to follow you, calling out to you sternly. Your hand was reaching for the doorknob when you saw the red tendrils swirl around your fingers, undeniable in the soft darkness, your eyebrows furrowed in anger as she prevented you from opening the door. You could hear her soft footsteps march towards you, muffled thuds against the carpet, and Natasha's voice was thick with sleep when she called out for you and Wanda, though you both ignored her as the witch continued stalking towards you.

You felt Wanda grab onto your free hand, a tight grip around your wrist as she forced you to look at her. You tried not to let your fear show when she pinned you against the door, wondering if this was it. If this was the moment where this soft episode turns dark and bloody. You could see the red replacing the warm green in the mellow darkness, pure hatred, pure anger, just like any other simulation.

Foolish of you to believe that either one of them would let you go in peace.

"Go ahead," you sneered, fighting your hardest not to show just how truly afraid you were in this moment. Showing anger in return to their fury only pisses them off even more, not giving them the satisfaction they're seeking when they have you trapped in a corner. And you'll be damned to let them be satisfied with this cruel joke. "Just do it already. There's no point in trying to string me along with this touchy feely stuff. I know how this ends, so end it."

Her jaw clenched tightly and you couldn't tell whether it was anger or hurt. The way her eyes were glowing that dangerous shade of red, you settled on anger. 

You couldn't help but let your shoulders slump in disappointment when she stepped away from you, her jaw still locked yet her eyes fading back to her normal green. Her hand remained on your wrist, a loose grip, as she shook her head. She wasn't going to fight you, the anger she had shown was just frustration. And looking into her eyes, the softness being portrayed in the emerald irises, you felt the sensation that she was being genuine. A brief moment of amnesty granted, letting you breathe. You didn’t understand what angle HYDRA was playing with this simulation, but you knew you couldn’t let them trip you up.

The moment of absolution didn't last long before you twisted your hand so you could grab onto Wanda's wrist, slamming her onto the ground with a swipe at her legs. Light flooded the room a moment after she gasped at the sudden loss of air, your movements faltering for a moment as you looked at the bruise around her neck, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. And in that hesitant moment, a pair of arms wrapped around your throat from behind, tugging you off of Wanda. 

You scrambled against Natasha's hold for a moment, having been taken by surprise. Wanda slowly climbed to her feet as you used your metal hand to easily pry the assassin's arms from around your neck, knocking her legs out from under her and pinning her to the ground.

"Y/N, stop!" Wanda pleaded loudly behind you, but you ignored her, desperate to keep Natasha pinned underneath you. 

The assassin was quick to flip you off of her before you could make your grip firm, climbing over your body with urgency to keep you down. She gripped your chin tightly in her hand, trying to force you to look into her eyes. “Look at me. This is real, Y/N,” she grunted through the struggles of you trying to get her off, but you managed to settle down when you finally met her gaze. She breathed out, tired, as her strong grip on your chin loosened slightly. “HYDRA doesn’t have you anymore. You’re home, you’re safe, milyy.” Darling, a simple pet name. Natasha was one to use endearments when she was about to kill you, though she’d say it condescendingly. She didn’t say it so supercilious this time, her voice genuine and true. Concerned, worried, everything but patronizing. She didn’t sound like she was going to hurt you.

You felt your body relax underneath her, an old instinct that caused your heart to start hammering in your chest with confused fear. You wanted so badly to believe her, to fall back into the safety net they were seemingly providing you. And you could see the hope crossing Natasha’s face when yours fell, your hard expression softening the longer you looked into her eyes. “‘Tash?” Your voice was low, fragile, cracking on a one syllable word as your pupils dilated in horror. What was HYDRA’s play here? You had grown used to the heartless, emotionless Natasha and Wanda, only having shown any display of affection for a few minutes before they ended the simulation with death. But it’s been longer than just a few minutes.

She heard the terror in your voice, her grip loosening almost immediately when she felt you relax beneath her, and you could barely hear Wanda’s soft gasp. The fire in your brain dwindled down; not a lot, but just enough to grant her another peek into the damage HYDRA had riddled you with. She was desperate to get more answers, to see more of the scars that were planted in your mind. And everything quickly came to an end when the bedroom door was thrown open. Natasha saw the moment your wide pupils narrowed, stressed with the sympathetic spurs initiated with the escape response, and Wanda pulled out of your mind with a sharp breath the second the roaring blaze came back to scorch her. Natasha had you, even for a split second, she had you believing that this was real, that she wasn’t going to hurt you.

You used your metal arm to throw her off of you, not reacting when she slammed into the wall behind you as you jumped to your feet. You made eye contact with Clint, who tilted his head at you in confusion. He was clearly questioning how you managed to get out of your cell, but he didn’t have time to say his thoughts out loud before you were throwing punches at him. He narrowly dodged your throws, blocking your human arm with his forearm, but not being able to do the same with your metal one. You pushed your hand against his chest, sending him flying across the room.

You had to leave, already knowing that you were going to lose this battle. The simulations were always rigged to end in your death, and you wondered what would happen if you went against that cliché. You were always abiding by their rules, staying on course with the silent requirements HYDRA had given you. You were the perfect little soldier, fearful that you’d receive an even greater punishment for rebelling against their games. But what’s the worst they can do?

You marched out of the room, stepping out into the hallway to be greeted with a few stray SHIELD agents. They didn’t seem too bothered by you, some of their eyes lingering on your fading form as you stumbled past. You felt your legs speed up, running down the hall as fast as you could, desperate to get away from here. Your heart pounding in your chest, your feet hammering against the floor, your thoughts racing as you ran. 

You knew there was no way you could get out of this. If HYDRA sees that you’re straying from the path, they’d probably pull you out. You haven’t tried it before, the fear and confusion kept you in check, but with the current softness the ladies are showing you, how long it’s going on, you didn’t want to hurt them. You just wanted to run.

When you turned the corner, your steps faltered to a stop when everything around you began to melt away. Your limbs froze in place, your jaw locked tightly as if something was hindering it shut. Your surroundings slowly changed, the shining, electric white of the fluorescent lights dimming into a soft, warm, yellow glow, the bright walls of the SHIELD compound evolving into dark walls, bricks falling apart due to lack of care. Your heart squeezed tight in your chest, your breathing erratic as your eyes looked around the room. You couldn't move your body no matter how hard you tried, the cackling laughter of the cold man you had grown familiar with bouncing off the crumbling walls. 

Chills erupted up your spine at the sound of his harsh voice. It caused you to clench your teeth as hard as you could as your eyes closed tightly in preparation for the inevitable electrocution. The same spark of energy that sends you on your way to the next nightmare induced by the man behind the voice. Fear rushed through you, your tight heart beginning to pick up speed to match the terror in your veins.

You were suddenly pulled out of the reality, a hand tugging against your elbow causing the dark room surrounding you to fade back to the SHIELD compound right before your eyes, frozen in the same spot you had last been. And in the motion of rapidly blinking, you felt a singular tear escape its prison behind your eyelids, sliding down your cheek. Long before it reached your chin, Natasha appeared in front of you.

"Y/N…" She said your name softly, fear hidden in the thickness of her voice only you were trained to hear. She was scared, too, but you couldn't understand why. "Please, Y/N." She was begging… for what?

HYDRA screwed up. The glitch that sent you back into the dark room was clearly unintentional. The simulation wasn't done, you didn't die. They pulled you out prematurely. This has never happened before. Yet it gave you everything you needed to know: this is, in fact, a simulation. And everything around you isn't real.

The softness Natasha's revealing to you in her green eyes is fake. It's not genuine. And you were angry you were tempted to believe it. Angry that HYDRA was showing you softness and kindness that never seems to be ending, the sides of Natasha and Wanda that made you feel loved. Angry that they were giving you a false sense of safety in a place that is the exact opposite.

It wasn’t until your name was being called behind you by a certain Sokovian that you had reached out and grabbed Natasha, knowing she wasn't going to let you through without another fight. You pulled her gun out from waistband as your metal arm wrapped around her neck firmly, the barrel of the firearm pressed against her temple. You turned around in time to see Wanda rounding the corner, skidding to a halt and holding her hands in the air, showing you that she was unarmed.

Natasha didn't struggle in your grip, though she did hold on tightly to the metal arm around her neck. Maybe she feared you would choke her, knowing now just how easily you could snap her neck just by flexing. She kept her eyes on Wanda, noting the panic-stricken look on her face. 

Wanda said your name calmly, moving to take a small step towards you, but immediately halting when she watched you force Natasha's head to the side by pressing the barrel of the gun harder against her temple. Her hands continued to be held in the air, showing you that she held no true threat.

"You don't have to do this." Wanda shook her head slowly, biting the inside of her cheek nervously. You readjusted your grip on the gun, your jaw locking in a tight clench. She watched as your eyes narrowed, almost cat-like, when she readjusted her footing. “Y/N, please, just put the gun down.”

There was a part of you - however small that part might be - that still wanted to love Wanda and Natasha even after everything HYDRA put you through, but this new game that was being played was really throwing curveballs at you. If this was the new type of simulation you were forced to engage in, how would you ever know if you truly escaped? How would you know if Wanda’s soft, sympathetic looks were real? How would you know if Natasha’s featherlight, loving touches were genuine? How were you going to be able to tell when they were going to turn dark?

“Look at me.” You hadn’t realized your gaze had slowly drifted off of Wanda until she spoke up to break you out of your thoughts. She was smart, having used the moment of distraction to move closer to you a few feet. 

There was a crowd gathering before you, you had come to realize. All the SHIELD agents you had passed had formed a wall behind Wanda, guns in their hands yet pointed at the ground on the witch’s command. Even Clint had appeared, having shaken off the quick fight and joining Wanda. Your heartbeat was rapid, your grip instinctively tightening around Natasha’s neck as you slowly took a step back. You couldn’t stop yourself from eyeing all the people prepared to shoot you on command. And, though you had suffered death after death after death in several of these nightmares, you had always done everything in your power to avoid it on instinct.

“Eyes on me, darling,” Wanda had ordered once again, even taking a step forward to gain your full attention. Your eyes snapped onto her, taking another step away with Natasha tight in your arms. “Loosen your grip, baby, please.”

It was second nature to follow Wanda’s command. The moment you slightly relaxed your arm, Natasha gasped for air quickly, desperate to fill her lungs with oxygen to breathe. Your eyes burned with unshed tears, red forming around your pupils as your jaw clenched once again to fight against the urge to cry. “Let me go.” You had said it, you know that, but the voice that came out of your mouth felt as if it didn’t belong to you. “We’re going to walk out. Nobody has to get hurt here.”

“Take me.” It was said without a moment of hesitation, and the look that flashed on Natasha’s face told Wanda that she was pissed. But, at the moment, it didn’t seem to matter to Wanda how angry the former assassin was. “We’re going to hunt you when you walk out of here, Y/N, and we’re not going to stop until you’re found, you know that.” She took another step towards you, but you mirrored it by taking one back. Her jaw was set, her eyes were focused, her posture was straight.

For the first time in your entire life, you couldn’t read Wanda.

“No, take me,” Natasha pleaded, shaking her head against your arm. “Don’t listen to her.”

Wanda managed to maintain eye contact with you despite Natasha’s contradicting begging. She was determined. “I can help you, Y/N,” Wanda continued and you tighten your grip slightly when you feel Natasha try to escape, pushing the gun into her head once you had come to realize that you were no longer holding it against her. She took another step closer to you, but you couldn’t get yourself to move any further back. “I saw some of the stuff they did to you. I'm more of a threat, right? Take me instead.”

You stared at her for a moment, biting down on the inside of your cheek. The determination in the green eyes, the tight jaw, the set stance; you were beginning to get frustrated that she wasn't easy to read as she was once before. You had always found it simple to tell whether she was upset, easier to know whether you should console her or not. But you knew she was right, she was a bigger threat than Natasha was. And if you had Wanda tied up, you'd be able to find a way out of this simulation. You'd be able to find a way out of HYDRA's hands. You'd be able to find a way home.

You sent her one stiff nod and, for a split second, you watched the strong-minded expression waver to a look of relief,  nodding her head confidently as she moved towards you in assertive strides.

“Wanda-” Natasha suddenly tugged against your arm in a desperate effort to reach her, but it caused you to snap out of Wanda’s mesmerizing eyes to remember the situation on hand. You kicked the back of Natasha’s legs, forcing her to kneel on the ground in front of you. With your hand gripping her shoulder tightly, she couldn’t go anywhere when you pressed the barrel of the gun to the back of her head. You looked down at the red hair, grown out longer with time. She was shaking her head subtly towards the witch, angry that Wanda was doing such a thing.

Wanda reached you, stepping to your side. She didn't dare touch you, staring at you carefully. “Y/N-”

“I have to do it.” Your finger pressed against the trigger lightly, sucking in a deep, shaky breath. “I don’t want to, but I have to.” You scoffed as Wanda chewed the inside of her cheek, looking at the side of Natasha's face with helplessness. “That’s what they want me to do. That’s the whole point of the system!”

“You don’t have to, Y/N.” Clint’s voice made you look up, seeing all the SHIELD agents behind him now aiming their guns at you. With Wanda no longer in control of the situation, they had all taken to the archer’s command. “This isn’t who you are. You love her, you’re not gonna shoot her.”

You met Clint’s eyes, eyebrows furrowing at the sudden spasm of pain in your bones when you felt your shoulder twitch in rhythm with the glitch that flashed across your field of vision, being aggressively reminded of HYDRA's game. You wondered why Wanda didn't move to prevent you from shooting Natasha, why she didn't move to kill you. She was only watching, her hands still slightly raised to show her innocence.

“You got me, Y/N,” she whispered. She was so hellbent on being taken as hostage, you couldn't help but wonder why. "There's no need for anybody to get hurt. Just let her go."

Your nose burned in accordance to the tears begging to form in your eyes. You were vaguely aware of the small, quick steps Clint was taking to get close to you. You knew his intention. Though Wanda and Natasha were taking it slow, showing you an extended soft side, you knew they could make Clint be the one to end that.

You had no other choice but to raise the gun up and aim it at the man you had once viewed as a friend. "Stop."

"I can't let you go, Y/N," Clint announced, listening to your command. "It doesn't matter what Wanda says."

"It's not up to you," you snarled, shaking your head. "Not anymore." You pulled the trigger, the sound of the shot triggering the flurry of bullets from the agents standing guard behind him. 

Wanda was quick to react, throwing up a red, translucent shield to prevent any harm coming your or Natasha's way, the bullets bouncing off harmlessly. You watched through the shield as Clint fell to the ground. You didn't show the regret you felt at the sight of your fallen friend, and you didn't show the relief that flooded through you when he moved to hold the wound against his shoulder.

If you wanted him dead, he would've been dead.

"Stop shooting!" Natasha's shouts were barely heard over the clangor of gunshots, resorting to waving her hands at the agents until they got the hint. You had taken a step away from her, aiming your gun down at her when she spun around to look up at you from her spot on the ground, her eyebrows creased deeply and you couldn't decide if she was angry or worried. "Y/N-"

"Don't." You shook your head. 

"This isn't a game, Y/N, this is real," she declared. "You’re going to kill someone and there’s no restart button. So, please, just-" She flinched at the sound of the gunshot, yet she remained unharmed. If it wasn't for Wanda, the red tendrils of her magic swirling around your wrist to force your arm to aim at the ceiling, you would've killed her. Your jaw was set, your eyes cold; she saw that you wouldn't have regretted killing her.

 "We're leaving, yeah?" She nodded her head in sync with yours, the red shield she was holding up evaporating as she took a step back.

Natasha watched you and the witch walk away, her body subtly shaking as she breathed out.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ও━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Wanda watched you carefully; you could feel her eyes burning a hole in the side of your head, but you kept your eyes focused on the car in front of you. Her expression - based on what you could see in your peripheral vision - was soft and understanding yet curious and wary. The one-handed grip you had on the steering wheel didn't go unnoticed by your companion, how the pressure of the taut grasp caused your knuckles to be bone-white, while your other hand - the metallic arm hidden by the sleeve of a sweatshirt - remained firmly in your lap, a loose hold on the gun aimed at her. 

"Y/N." Your head tilted towards her at the sound of her voice, but you refused to acknowledge her calling for you. She was soft-spoken, a light murmur in the air between you and her, and your jaw clenched tightly as you fought every instinct in your body. You wanted to look at her, to revel in that warmth showing in her eyes, but your head couldn’t fully wrap around anything but the fact that this wasn’t real, and it was only HYDRA’s mirage.

You knew you were going to have to switch cars, or start trekking on foot. Shooting Clint brought a huge advantage, if HYDRA wanted to keep that genuine feeling going, you were safe to assume that Natasha would seek him immediate medical attention before diving into the hunt for you, but with the GPS trackers installed in every SHIELD vehicle, they would find you relatively quickly; head start or not. You had to ditch the car.

“Y/N.” You finally tore your eyes away from the road to look at her, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. You met her gaze, the sparkle in the green irises never failed to make your stomach churn. You had to look away from her, looking back at the car in front of you. Why wasn't this car moving? Traffic in New York was always a nightmare, but it was never this bad.

"Why?" 

Silence. No response. Was it HYDRA trying to figure out what to have her say? You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, shaking your head as you breathed out a heavy sigh. 

“Why what?”

You turned to look at her once more, your lips pursed together tightly as you silently berated yourself for always getting lost in those damn eyes. “Why are you not-” You cut yourself off, shaking your head as you chewed the inside of your cheek. There were a million questions running through your mind and you found it difficult to focus on just one of them. Why was she not killing you? Why was she being so cooperative? Why is she so soft and warm and patient? Why, why, why, why?

“I don’t know what you want, Y/N,” she responded cautiously. “I can’t read your mind.”

“I don’t want you to read my mind,” you quickly assured with a scoff. “I’m not going to let HYDRA play anymore mind games on me.”

“You let me in before.” She was whispering now, barely a mutter that reached your ears, but you heard her loud and clear. She watched your eyes narrow as your jaw set, your eyebrows furrow in distaste as you tilted your head to the side dangerously. She cleared her throat, knowing she should pull back from this conversation, but the desperation to reach the person you once were was stronger than any other instinct she had. The next words out of her mouth were louder, “It was you, me, and Nat. We were in… in a car. And, out of nowhere, you started to… strangle her.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but your jaw clenched harder than it was five seconds ago. Your head shook, water forming at the bottom of your vision, and your grip on the steering wheel only tightened. You wanted her to stop talking, but you were incapable of unlocking your jaw wide enough to warn the Sokovian.

“I was sleeping, but I woke up,” she continued, her eyes melting into yours, “and you… did whatever it took to stop me from helping her.” You remember, the sound of her bones breaking in your hand always managed to make you flinch.

You managed to choke out her name, a desperate plea for her to stop, that she had already said enough, and there was a moment of pause in her story. A hesitation in her next words as she looked at you, her shoulders slouching as she breathed out slowly. 

“But you couldn’t do it,” she muttered, sucking on her bottom lip for a moment. “You couldn’t kill her, you couldn’t kill me. They didn’t break you. Three years, Y/N, and you still won’t kill us.”

Your movement was quick, the gun in your hand aimed right in between her eyes in a heartbeat. “Won’t I?” Your chin trembled as you breathed in gradually, the click of the gun’s hammer reverberating in your head. Your hand was steady, but your heart was hammering in your chest at an unbelievable pace. Wanda remained quiet, the tension in the air suffocating you as you met her gaze behind the weapon. And when you looked down at her neck, you huffed in frustration as you brought the gun back to your lap, averting your gaze to the steering wheel. You were unaware of the relieved breath Wanda released as you smacked your palm against the wheel as hard as you could, ignoring the sting spreading throughout your hand. “Why are they doing this?!” Your voice strained your throat with how loud you had yelled. “I just want them to stop!”

You felt your muscles tense when there was a knock against the window, your head snapping towards the source and your grip on the gun tightened. Wanda was quick to position herself in the crossfire when she saw your finicky response, your eyes narrowing as you looked at the police officer over her shoulder. Wanda moved to roll the window down, ignoring the quiet word falling from your mouth in an attempt to deter her.

"Good morning, officer." You didn't need to see her face to know she was sending the man a friendly smile, the man bending down to peek into the car. With the way Wanda was positioned, though, he couldn't get a good view of the gun in your lap. And you were finding yourself grateful for the vehicle to have a set of clothes stowed away in the trunk, granting you a hoody and a glove to hide the arm you had grown to despise. 

How odd was it for a policeman to just walk straight into traffic just to knock on someone’s window?

"You two okay?" He glanced over her, making eye contact with you for a brief moment. You purse your lips together, sending him a tight, stiff nod. “I heard you yelling, thought I’d check in.” His face was compassionate when he looked at Wanda, but his eyes were analyzing when he looked at you. “Are you sure you’re okay, ma’am?” He returned his attention to Wanda, and it couldn't be any more obvious that he was staring at the bruise on her neck. You were sure the smile she was sending his way seemed to be forced; it really wasn’t looking good for you. You tilted the gun up a little more, lining it up with the man’s head just in case.

“We’re okay.” You looked away, tracing the car’s logo engraved on the steering wheel with your eyes as realization hit you. Wanda was no longer bad at hiding her emotions, lying to the officer so expertly. Hell, even you almost believed her. “Thank you, sir.” The man sent one last look towards you before going on his way. As Wanda rolled up the window, she asked, “What’s the plan here, Y/N?”

“There’s not much I can do in the middle of a traffic jam.”

“We’re not in traffic.” You could feel her eyes on you once again as you furrowed your eyebrows, picking your head up and looking at your surroundings. "We've been parked for twenty minutes." 

She was right, you had been sitting on the side of the street; no wonder why the car in front of you wasn't moving. But twenty minutes? Time was always wonky in the simulations, feeling as if only five minutes have passed when it's really been an hour. You weren’t presented with any way to keep track of time in this world, the clocks planted around were always off. You had given up trying to time out the simulations a long time ago, figuring it was no use. One could last merely ten minutes while the next one could last five hours. But this one? Well, this one seemed to be the longest so far. You just wanted it to end.

Wanda continued to watch you, relaxing back into the seat as your grip on the steering wheel finally loosened. You turned towards her once again, your lips pursed together in thought.

With your hand gripping Wanda’s shoulder tightly to keep her in check, the two of you marched down the streets of New York. Your eyes couldn’t seem to stay straight, inspecting each face you pass. It was typical for the amount of people out and about this early, making their way to work or school. You didn’t know where you were going, just that you were trying to get away. You had almost shot Natasha, killed her just like HYDRA has been training you to do. And if Wanda hadn’t gotten in the way of that, you would’ve pleased them. It’s all a part of their game. Wanda always saves Natasha. The Avengers always save each other. They never save you. And it’s just a matter of time before they accomplish what they’re programmed to do. You only had to beat them to it first.

“Where are we going?” Wanda’s head remained forward, voicing a quiet inquiry that caught your ears despite the loudness of your surroundings. You had no intention of answering her question anyway, risking a glance over your shoulder as you continued marching forward, but the gasp that escaped Wanda’s throat caused you to bring your attention back in front of you. “We’re sorry,” she quickly stated, feeling your hand grow empty when she kneeled down. It took you a moment, but you had realized that you had led her into bumping against someone, the briefcase in their hand unclasping open, papers spilling out onto the sidewalk. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the ultimate cliche HYDRA was hand delivering. They were stalling you, giving the Avengers more time to find you and end the simulation. This is what they wanted. They don’t want you to run, they want you to fight.

You had no patience for this, leaning down to loop your hand around Wanda's arm with the intention of pulling her to her feet. There was no point in helping the man pick up his papers, and it wouldn't do you any good wasting time offering him a hand. It wasn't necessarily your fault that he wasn't watching where he was walking, though it was absolutely your fault that you weren't watching where you were walking. You felt your body jerk along with the pain-inducing glitch flashing across your vision, catching a piece of paper on the ground transform before your eyes, the letters that formed seemingly boring words shift to display something you’d find in a file. It was your name that caught your attention, causing your jaw to lock tightly, bending down further to scoop it up, quickly scanning sentences despite the amount of redacted words.

The asset, Y/N, has displayed a fear of hurting the █████, specifically Agent █████ and █████. Dr. ████er has yet to show what she is truly capable of through the simulations. Don’t trust █████. 

“Y/N.” You came back to your senses, sniffling your dripping nose as you looked up. The business man held the opened briefcase towards you, waiting for your cooperation in placing the few pieces of paper you held onto tightly to the unorganized stack. You blinked away the burning sensation in your eyes, your eyebrows furrowed deeply as you slowly straightened your form, the other two following suit.

“Thank you,” the man said, still waiting for the rest of his work, though you could tell his patience was quickly wearing thin. You needed the rest of the papers. Though some of it is redacted, maybe there’s was something hidden amongst the mess HYDRA’s trying to hide, something that could tell you why they were doing this to you. The glitches in the simulation were causing them to lose their touch. They were revealing themselves. And this was your chance to get a step ahead of them.

“Give me the briefcase,” you expressed, ignoring Wanda’s curious eyes. The man’s face fell into confusion, his head tilting to the side as you used your free hand to reach for the case, but it was his instinct to pull away from you. He shook his head quickly, rejecting your command. “You’re stalling.”

“Look, just keep the papers,” he expressed, snapping the briefcase shut. “I’m already late for work, I have to go-” His voice immediately caught in his throat when you moved swiftly, reaching behind you to pull the gun out of your waistband, holding the case against his chest as he took a small step away from you.

“Give me the briefcase,” you said more slowly, dangerously. You knew you were being sabotaged, the man doing everything in his power to give the Avengers more time to catch up, making your large head start be wasted. “I don’t want to kill you, but I will.”

“Y/N-”

“Shut up,” you snapped, not bothering a glance at Wanda. “It’s a simulation. He’s not going to actually die. He’s not real.” Just like you. You breathed out, shaking your head. There would be no harm in shooting him, you realized. No, it isn’t real life. He wouldn’t actually feel it despite being programmed to portray pain. He would scream out in agony, fall to the floor and coddle his wound, but it was only a ploy to get you to feel bad. You couldn’t afford to be arguing with him over his briefcase, and the gunshot that echoed in your head caused everybody around you to scramble away in a panic.

Wanda gasped sharply when the man fell to the ground as you had predicted, clutching his bleeding shoulder as he shouted. You gestured for Wanda to grab the briefcase, your hand gripping her wrist tightly once she followed your command. You held the gun in your other hand as you continued down the sidewalk, pushing against the scrambling people as you reached the corner. You needed to think, and the screams of the pedestrians weren’t giving you the silence you needed to do that.

You looked around, trying to pinpoint exactly where you were. Knowing that if you knew your location, maybe it’d be easier to find somewhere to hide for a second. To give yourself a quiet place to think. But nothing was coming together in your mind, incapable of piecing it like a puzzle. You hated to admit it, but the past simulations seemed to be much easier for you. You weren’t on the run, desperate to try and find where the hell you were because they had placed you in similar places. The compound, the park, jewelry stores, banks. It was the same places scattered without pattern. Now you were in new territory, adventuring on your own. Why wasn’t HYDRA pulling you out? Were they - just as you - curious to see how far you could go? Or was this their way of finally breaking you? Giving you that small feeling of hope that you'd escape only to drop the hammer when you finally let your guard down.

You needed to get out of here. And to get out of here quickly, you needed a new car. Your feet were moving before you had time to come up with a plan, marching up to a car waiting at a red light and tapping the barrel of the gun against the window lightly. You opened the door before they could peel off, waving the gun at them as you ordered their vacancy from the car. “Get in,” you told Wanda, handing the driver the keys to SHIELD’s vehicle as you tucked your weapon into your waistband. You half expected her to run away, to use her powers to stop you, so you were surprised when she rounded the car to get into the passenger’s seat, placing the briefcase on the floor by her feet as you soon joined her in the vehicle. You didn’t bother waiting for a greenlight, veering off to the right and ignoring the honking coming from irritated drivers behind you.

Wanda watched you carefully as you drove down the street, shaking your head as you mumbled under your breath. Her eyes were gentle, and the desire to touch you only burned brighter with each second she watched you mentally struggle through your eyes. “You shot that man,” she expressed. “Y/N never would’ve done that.”

“He’s fine,” you quickly stated. He isn’t real. None of this is real. Nobody’s actually hurt. You needed those papers, and he wasn’t giving them to you. You had no option but to shoot him. He didn’t give you the choice. He was being stubborn, keeping the answers to the problem to himself, letting you suffer pure torment. 

Wanda watched your grip tighten on the steering wheel, your knuckles turning bone-white on your human hand once again while your metal arm seemed to have not flexed at all. Her eyes flickered to the side of your face, replaying that moment in the bedroom in her mind. If you wanted to, you could've ended Natasha and Clint easily with your new arm; just a heavy fist to their chest could crush their ribcage as if you were punching through water. But you didn't. You pulled back your attacks to spare them. As you had when shooting Clint. She knew your skill with a gun, the archer would've been dead in mere seconds if you wanted him to be, but you shot him in the shoulder instead. No lethal harm done.

But it still remains; you would've executed Natasha if Wanda hadn't gotten in the way.

Your head tilted to the side briefly as your jaw clenched against the sudden jolt of pain, a twitch spurred on by the glitch that crossed your field of vision, and the movement didn't go unnoticed this time. She wanted to reach out to you, to touch you, but she bit back that urge. "Where are we going?"

"Away." You wanted to get as far from SHIELD as HYDRA would allow you. They would pull the plug on you eventually, they have to. Especially with one of your missions sitting in the seat next to you, unharmed, untied, free. Maybe they just wanted to see what exactly you were capable of, knowing they were guiding the Avengers to your location with every passing second.

You couldn't get away from them no matter what you did.

"The bruise." You cleared your throat, sending a quick glance towards Wanda to confirm the discoloration was still plaguing her neck. It was. "Why is it still there?"

"It takes longer than a day for a bruise to heal," Wanda returned softly. She continued to watch you, licking her lips quickly as she added, "What can I do?" You risked taking your eyes off the road to briefly glance at her, your eyebrows furrowing deeply at her question. Not only was she not killing you, but she was offering to help you. 

"I need to think." You shook your head, your jaw clenching tightly as your thoughts ran circles in your mind. "And stop looking at me with those-" You huffed, looking out the window to your left briefly in an attempt to avoid her gaze. "Just… stop looking at me." You figured it would’ve just been easier to let them end the simulation at this point. The stress from trying to survive, from trying to escape, it was wearing you down. Everything up to this point, you always knew how it was going to end. But this world… you didn’t know what to expect. You were going in headfirst without any clue as to what you’re going to end up facing.

Wanda had followed your command, diverting her attention to the windshield in front of her. You couldn’t get your mind to process your surroundings no matter how hard you tried, feeling as if you were looking at an unfocused picture of the city. Your heart picked up speed once again at your incapability to point out any landmarks you should be able to recognize, nothing jumping out at you as you drove down the road. Were you even in New York anymore? 

“Where are we?” Wanda's head turned back towards you at the sound of your voice, pursing her lips together in a tight line as she watched you survey the environment, eyes frantically searching for anything that looked familiar. After all the years you've driven through this city, having memorized practically every building you'd pass, you were ultimately lost. "I just need to know where we are."

She tore her eyes off of you to look out the window. She knew where you were, having taken this route many times with you and Natasha, but she figured it wouldn't do any good to point out a random building and claim to know what it was. Your trust was wavering enough as it is. But, knowing what was coming up as you finally slowed down to obey the law and stop at a red light, she turned back to face you. "Take a left."

You sent her a wary glance, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as your thumb tapped impatiently against the steering wheel. She could hear the gears turning in your mind, most likely listing off the pros and cons of listening to her. Were you really willing to follow HYDRA's command so quickly? If anything, the entire logical side of your brain was screaming at you to do the exact opposite of Wanda's direction, your hand twitching to turn the car to the right instead.

When the light turned green - and way against your better judgement - you took that left. It wasn't until you drove down the street that you saw it, the large, abandoned warehouse that sat at the end of the road, clearly untouched for years. Your grip on the steering wheel went slack as the memory flooded through you, nostalgic with love and smiles.

"You remember?" Wanda's voice cut through your mind, bringing you back to the present. You glanced at her, the car continuing to roll forward. "This was our first mission after becoming official, just the three of us. You, me, Nat. We prevented an organization of inventors from creating a weapon that had the potential to destroy the city." You had to look away from her, that warmth in her eyes returning to lure you into yet another trance.

You were tired of falling for it.

"You had gotten cocky," she continued as you watched the building get closer and closer, "and you wanted to make it a challenge. Whoever incapacitates the most people wins." You could feel her eyes bleeding into the side of your face, your fingers flexing tightly around the steering wheel as the car came to a slow stop. "Natasha, of course, was game, but I took just a little bit more convincing."

"This proves nothing," you whispered, looking at her. 

"But the competition went a little sideways." She carried on as if you hadn't spoken, causing you to roll your eyes and turn away from her once again. "You got hurt, and my heart…" You remember it, the pain from seeing the tears on Wanda and Natasha was a lot worse than the pain from getting shot. But those were much, much simpler times compared to now. "Tell me this, Y/N" - the way she said your name pulled your attention back to her - "does HYDRA know that that was the day I decided I would do anything to save you and Nat?"

"Wanda-"

"Do they know that was the day my love for you came to be?"

"Enough."

"Do they know that I was an absolute mess when I was told you died three years ago?"

"I'm still dead!" Your jaw clenched so hard, you could've sworn you heard it lock into place. And then you laughed, a humorless, monotone sound. "At least it feels like it." You scoffed, shaking your head as you chewed the inside of your cheek, looking into those brilliant, emerald irises as the anger and fury flooded through your blood. "I'm not who you think I am and you're not who I think you are. This - all of this - is HYDRA mind-fucking me and I'm not going to play by their little rules anymore. The only reason you're still alive, Wanda, is because you look and sound like one of the women I love." Loved… but you weren’t ready to face that yet.

You saw the hurt flash in her eyes, her lips pursing tightly to prevent the emotion from showing on her face. And, though it was hard to witness, you knew it was just another play by HYDRA to deceive you.

You reached behind you, discharging the weapon and waving it at her. "Let's go." 

She breathed out slowly, bringing her bottom lip in between her teeth before she ultimately opened the car door and climbed out. She gripped the briefcase tightly in her hand as she walked around the car, meeting you on the other side only for you to gesture to her to keep walking. You followed her, the gun aimed promptly at her back. This was your game now, you controlled the outcome.

SHIELD had made quick work of clearing out the warehouse back then when the mission had been completed, and it has been vacant ever since as evident by the boarded up windows and dust covering what was left of the cheap furniture. Your body tensed as if you were being tased, another glitch crossing your field of vision granted you a brief look at what the warehouse used to be as if it was pulled straight from the deepest part of your memories, but you ignored it as you led Wanda through the main area and into the winding halls. Your eyes were searching, scanning the doors with faded stickers labeling what was what.

“Y/N-”

“Stop.” You huffed, looking at the back of her as she continued walking forward. “I didn’t take you to be nostalgic. I took you because you’re the biggest threat the Avengers had that was in reach.” Quite honestly, it was foolish of her to volunteer to be your hostage. Not that you were complaining, you just couldn’t help but question what the hell HYDRA’s deal is here.

She stopped walking, turning to look at you with her bright, sparkling green eyes. “I was going to say the manager’s office is right here.” She gestured towards the door she stopped in front of. “This is what you’re looking for, right?” You looked at the door, barely capable of catching the words on the ripped label, and you nodded as you gestured for her to enter.

The manager’s office was the only room in the warehouse that granted you a full view of nearly every entrance that led into the place, with the exception of the back door, but you recall it having been sealed shut a long time ago. The moment HYDRA decides to throw you another curveball and lead the Avengers here, you’d see them coming. You felt more in control here, rather than being placed with the team, they were being placed with you. And you weren’t going to let them win anymore.

“Open the briefcase.” You watched her set the case onto the old desk as you closed the door, her features contorting into confusion as she looked down at it.

“It’s locked,” she explained calmly, her voice soft, turning it around to show you the numbered dials on the front, securely locking it shut. She shook her head, looking down at it as she added, “I don’t know the password.”

Your jaw clenched shut as your fist tightened around the gun with care. You shook your head, stepping towards her. “You know it,” you countered. “Of course you know the code. It’s a simulation that you’re a part of! You're literally programmed to know!” You laughed, but there was, once again, no humor to be found in the sound. “Stop playing this stupid little game, Wanda, and just put the code in.”

She shook her head slowly, cautiously, and you pressed your hands against your head, feeling the cool metal touch of the gun and robotic fingers against your temples as your eyes fluttered close. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I really don’t know it.”

Your hands clenched into fists as you removed them from your head, opening your eyes to look at Wanda. Her sudden ability to hide her emotions from you - displaying only a screen of smoke in her eyes to conceal what used to be an open book - bothered you. It made you grind your teeth in frustration, tucking the gun behind your back as you crossed the small office to reach the desk. She didn’t know what was going to happen, her pupils dilating in fear to the point where only a sliver of green can be seen, but you disregarded the brief moment of the open window to her soul as you gripped the briefcase in both hands. The metallic snap the case made when you broke it open satisfied the irritation briefly as you gripped the top paper in your hand.

You couldn’t stop the indent appearing in between your eyebrows when they pressed together at the irrelevant graph printed out on the paper. You shook your head, mumbling disappointment under your breath as you tossed the report to the ground and grabbed the next one, only for it to hold the same useless information. Nothing seemed to make sense to you anymore, your mind scrambling to find what you were looking for as you tore the briefcase apart, paper flying as you moved through it quickly. You lip curling in rage, fury boiling your blood as you threw the case against the wall, defeated.

You didn’t know what to do anymore. HYDRA had plenty of time to fix the mistakes and glitches that you had encountered from the time you saw it. You were never one step ahead of them as you were led to believe, they were always fifteen steps ahead of you. And the realization of that dawned on you, your shoulders slumping with exhaustion as you turned your back to Wanda.

Her eyes were glued to you as you took a few steps away from her, interlacing your fingers behind your head as a somber laugh escaped the back of your throat. “Y/N-”

“They sure do love their games,” you expressed. Your head shook as you turned around to face her, but you couldn’t look at her; she could see the vulnerability written on your face for the first time since the hospital room. The only difference between now and then, this time it feels more genuine. “I was never going to win. I’m never going to get out of this. I am never going to see them again.” Your lips pursed to form a thin line, your head still shaking as your arms fell back to your sides. “I’m just going to have to suffer this… these lies every day for the rest of my life. These fake versions of- of the women I-” You huffed, breathing out lightly as you took your bottom lip in between your teeth to stop it from trembling. And when you spoke, your voice was a soft whisper, "I just want them back."

She watched your form straighten, your eyes sparkle with another idea. And, for a moment, for a split second, she held onto hope. Hope that you had finally faced the truth that this is all real, and her lips twitched up into a brief smile. She took a tiny step towards you, her hand yearning to reach out for you, to hold you as you accepted the reality.

“You won’t kill me,” you conveyed. “HYDRA is- is…” Wanda’s hope faded away when you pulled the gun out, watching the barrel aim right towards her. She was frozen, eyes hard as she looked at you. You couldn't see anything anymore, having pulled up the divider to conceal her true feelings once more. Yet, even as your finger hovered over the trigger, you couldn't bring yourself to shoot. No, this version of Wanda was too similar to the real one, the one you hold dear in your memories. It made it more difficult to kill. So, with a shake of your head, she watched in horror as you pressed the gun against your temple. This was a change in the game they couldn't have seen coming. “I have to show them that I won’t play by their rules anymore.”

“Y/N, no.” She held her hands up slowly, her head shaking as she sucked in an uneven breath fueled by fear. She moved forward when your eyes snapped onto her, readjusting your grip on the gun as your finger pressed very lightly against the trigger. “Please, don’t.” Her voice was trembling, her hands held out towards you as she took small, wary steps towards you. “Don’t do this, Y/N, please. This isn’t their simulation. This is real. I'm real. If you shoot yourself, you will be gone forever. And- And I can’t lose you. Not again. Not like this.”

Your eyes were red with tears as you held up a finger at her, taking a step back. “No. No. I’m not going to fall for the softness anymore.” There was a thumping you could hear, muffled yet loud, and it took you a moment to realize that you could hear just how fast Wanda’s heart was beating in her chest. And, when you looked into her eyes, you noted that she had once again let go of that smoky screen in those green irises to show you just how truly afraid she was. “I just want it to stop, Wanda. They can’t control me if I don’t let them. And the only way it ends is when I die."

"No!" The way her voice strained in desperation forced you to freeze, your finger pressing against the trigger as her head shook rapidly. She took another step, small and stealthy, and you were too lost in her eyes to notice it. “There’s a voice in your head,” she started, her voice soft and gentle, “saying it’s all pretend.” You suddenly lost the ability to move, your limbs frozen in place, your breath shaking as it escaped the small part in your lips. Your finger poised on the trigger, tensing in preparation to finish the job for her, but there was something telling you to wait. To listen. Because the look on Wanda’s face screamed realism. When you blinked, she was closer than she was two seconds ago, her body mere inches from yours. “Please, Y/N.” Her hands were slow, moving to cover yours on the gun. You didn’t fight back when she gradually moved the weapon away, and you hated how easily you allowed her to take it from your hand, giving you no form of defense. No tool to end it. “Don’t listen to that voice.”

The clattering of the gun falling to the ground echoed in your skull, but you made no move for it. Instead, you leaned into Wanda’s touch when she brought your face in between her hands, her touch warm and light and it filled your veins with a burning desire to close the distance. “Wanda…” Your voice was small, weak, broken, and she smiled softly at you as your shoulders relaxed underneath her fingers. You gave in, allowing yourself to believe that this moment between you and her wasn’t a simulation conducted by HYDRA, that the Wanda standing in front of you was the real Wanda, the loving and gentle Sokovian you had fallen in love with.

She started humming, a familiar Russian lullaby that caused your shoulders to slump even further as you fell into a state of tranquility. It was an instinct, a second nature to move closer to her as you, for the first time in what felt like forever, permitted yourself to believe that you were free from HYDRA’s hold and was back in the arms of one of the women you love.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, incapable of bringing your voice louder than that in fear of ruining what was happening as your eyes averted to the dark bruise on her neck. You suddenly felt exhausted, your eyelids heavy as you blinked once, twice, three times before you found it suddenly difficult to open your eyes, pressing your forehead against hers. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” Her voice, such as yours, was low. A gentle murmur in the space between you and her as she, too, didn’t want to disturb the moment with anything louder. She could feel her thumb catch a tear that rolled down your cheek, and she released a soft breath when she had come to the conclusion that she had done what she thought was impossible. “I love you so much.”

Your mouth formed the sentence, having the simple three words that held a deep, personal meaning on the tip of your tongue. Your lips brushed against hers, and everything inside your body wanted to give in to the feeling, to feel her soft, warm lips against your own, but it all ended way too soon when you heard the approach of a car, tires rolling against the broken asphalt just outside the doors. Your eyes snapped open, removing yourself from Wanda as you marched past her, stepping up to the window in time to watch Natasha enter the warehouse. Most of the Avengers soon followed, a few random SHIELD agents sprinkled in there as well. Anger was quick to seethe your blood, obliterating away any inch of softness that you had allowed in. Your fists clenched tightly by your sides, your teeth grinding harshly as your jaw locked. It was a trap. And you were, yet again, fooled by HYDRA.

“Y/N-” Wanda gripped your arm from behind you, but you were quick to throw her off. You didn’t flinch when her body flew into the wall, and you didn’t bother checking on her unconscious form as you stormed out of the manager’s office with a brand new agenda.

If HYDRA wanted you to take out the Avengers, then you were going to take out the Avengers. 

“Spread out into groups,” Steve declared, releasing an irritated grunt when he saw that Natasha had already gone off on her own. “We pinged Wanda’s phone to this location, so they have to be here. Don’t separate.” Steve turned, watching as Clint and Tony went off on their own, a couple of agents following them.

The shadows had grown to become your friend, not just from your time in the simulations produced by HYDRA, but as a SHIELD agent in the real world, too. It allowed you to hide, blending into the darkness to near perfection, fooling whoever walked by in the hall as you pressed yourself against the wall. Your breathing was slow, your heartbeat steady, and your footsteps were silent as you slunk into line behind them, gradually advancing like a tiger hunting its prey. Your arms wrapped around the nearest agent the moment they were at arms length, your hand clamping over their mouth as you dragged them into the shadows before the other two could notice your arrival. They struggled in your grip, their heart beat loud in your ears as terror engulfed them. Your eyes were glued to the wall across from you, allowing your mind to drift as your hold on their throat tightened. Your jaw clenched, and it wasn’t much longer that your heart was the only thing beating in your ears as their struggle came to a complete stop.

Their body fell to your feet as your hold on them loosened gradually, a breath parting your lips as your head slowly turned to where Tony had gone. Your mind swam, foggy and disoriented as you felt the moment you fully accepted your role in this game. Pawn, asset, machine, killer. The new fist of HYDRA. You were to be whatever they wanted, to do whatever they needed. It finally clicked inside of you, snapping into place as you had grown tired of being pulled into the pits of love only to be deceived over and over and over again. 

Your strides were confident, quiet. As strong as an ox yet as sly as a fox. You closed the distance between you and the second agent, pulling her out of sight just as Tony turned around. He found that he was alone, doubling back as he searched for not only you, but his small team. You could feel the bone in her neck crack underneath your hand, making quick work of this agent, forcing Tony to stop dead in his tracks as the fallen agent collapsed into view. His heartbeat was off the charts as you stepped over the body, into the dim light when he grew closer, slowly turning to face the billionaire. You could hear his breath catch in his throat when he looked at you, his hands raised, stripped of any weapon, but you were too smart, knowing Tony Stark had more than a few tricks up his sleeves.

“Y/N.” His voice was steady despite the raving party in his chest, and he took a small step back as you walked towards him. It was typical for Tony to have his usual carefree and overly confident self in these simulations, but right now? Fear, that’s what was covering his face. You had assumed he was filled in on the situation, the story told by Clint and Natasha in what had transpired in that hallway back at the compound, how quickly you had turned against them. “We can help you.”

Your jaw seemed to have been clamped shut, and you were forced to a knee the moment your body tensed at the strong glitch crossing your field of vision, a mirage of colors blending together on the screen of a TV with bad reception. The walls around you changed, fading into the familiar dark-colored bricks crumbling with time, the laughter of the man without a face ringing in your ears. This gave Tony the chance, a tap of his wrist and his hand was covered in his Iron Man armor, the reactor on his palm glowing when you were suddenly thrown back into the computerized world, picking your head up to look at the playboy.

“You’re suffering, Y/N,” he stated as you climbed to your feet, shaking off the temporary feeling of pain caused by the malfunction in the simulation. “I can fix that.” His head shook as you continued to close the distance, his lips pursed together tightly, but it was too late. You were already gone, and he could see that in your cold, dead eyes.

You barely got near him when you felt the invisible pressure of what felt like an eighteen wheeler crashing into you, your body flying back a great distance. A gasp made its way out of your throat, constricted as it seemed like your ribs were caved in by the nonlethal shock wave. You should’ve expected the retaliation, yet you didn’t and it only seemed to piss you off more as you climbed to your feet. Tony made his way to you, his armored hand held up just in case you needed to be blasted once more. A growl formed in the back of your throat as you looked at him, your hands clenching into fists by your sides.

“How about you eat a Snickers, Y/N,” Tony suggested, shrugging nonchalantly. “You’re clearly hungry.”

You breathed out heavily, frustrated. You knew HYDRA wasn’t going to go easy when presented with an opportunity to make your job more difficult. Taking Tony out would be simple if he didn’t have that damn suit protecting him, even if it was only a partial. You eyed him carefully, familiar with all the ways Tony had stored his suit on him, and it seems that he just came prepared for hand to hand combat, no suit required. After all, it was just you he was after, and he was always the over achiever. Maybe he didn’t come fully prepared in the hopes to get done what the others can’t.

“Your nonlethal tactics won’t work on me, Stark,” you stated. “Either kill me, or I kill you.”

He shrugged, contemplating the idea for a moment before ultimately denying your offer with a quick shake of his head. “I choose the third option. You come in quietly without anymore deaths and we get you the help you need.”

“So be it,” you calmly stated. You sucked in a deep breath before charing towards him, knowing exactly his reaction in this scenario. You didn’t get far before he blasted you away again, but as your body slid across the floor from the impact of the shock wave, he didn’t see you getting back up. 

Your body laid there, motionless. Not even the slight movement of your chest to signify that you were breathing, and he waited with bated breath, his eyes glued to you, for what seemed like forever before he finally made his way to your paralyzed form. His footsteps were hesitant, slow, and when he crouched down upon reaching you, his heart felt to be in his throat as he moved his bare hand to your neck, but it didn’t last long. The moment your eyes snapped open was the moment his heart dropped to his gut as your arm shot up, wrapping around his throat. Your enhanced limb caught his hand, crushing his suit as if you were clenching a dried leaf in your fist. You slowly climbed to your feet, forcing him down on to his knees as he stared up at you with pure terror in his dark brown eyes.

And, with the way your hand gripped his windpipe, he couldn’t make a sound as his hand succumbed to the damages your cybernetic fist was doing to his bones.

Steve, unlike Tony and Clint, had opted to go alone on his hunt. You figured he didn’t need them since he had the amplified senses a super soldier has to protect himself. You wouldn’t be able to sneak up on him, not with his boosted hearing, but it didn’t deter you to try. Attached to the shadows once again, your footsteps were quick and careful as you approached him from behind, but the way he was walking, casually, not as if he was seeking someone, you knew he was aware of your presence.

You stepped out of the shadows, making yourself seen in the light brought to you from the sun peeking through boarded windows in the hallway, Steve slowing his walk to a complete stop before turning around to face you.

The last you have physically seen of the patriot was before you had been converted to a HYDRA experiment, taken early on a mission under the premise that you were to canvas the area only for him to conduct a conversation about your happy relationship with the two redheads. That was the last thing you remember of him before waking up in a case molded to fit your body, trapping you in a nightmare you may never escape from. The ire swimming through you was stronger than you have ever felt, and you wondered if he could see that by the way he sighed.

“It’s been a while, Y/N.” The hand free of his shield rested on his hip as he watched you carefully. “Y’know, Buck… He went through the same thing you’re going through.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, a small smirk lifting a corner of his lips. Where he found the humor in the situation was beyond you. “He was brainwashed by HYDRA. They used him as their puppet, such as you. Now he’s living his best life up in Wakanda.” He took a step towards you, but you only continued to stare at him. “We can do that for you, too, if you let us. We can break you out of this hold they have on you and you can live your best life.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t stop the eye roll from happening, a shake of your head as you, too, took a step towards him. “I was living my best life,” you confessed, a scoff escaping the back of your throat as your jaw clenched. “Now it’s changed, and I’m changing with it.” You started to close the distance, your legs gradually growing faster as he prepared himself for impact.

He got down on his knee when you were close, his shield going up just in time to stop the metal fist that would’ve blown apart his jaw, and the sound of metal against metal reverberated throughout the hallway. The vibration in the arm from the collision caused your whole body to shiver, but you ignored it as you managed to block Steve when he tried to use his shield against you. Fighting Steve would always be easier than fighting Natasha - the redhead had the agility the man lacked, capable of crawling around you like a spider. The only thing the patriot had to him was his strength, and now that you can now match that power, it was easier.

You had to wait for an opening, blocking his attacks as best you can, but he sure does know how to put that shield to good use. It wasn’t until you managed to get a good punch on his chin that you finally got the upperhand, becoming the one to throw the punches as he was forced to back up. You used the anger boiling in your body, letting it control how hard you hit as you drove your robotic fist into the shield as many times as you could. Though you knew you wouldn’t get anywhere, watching the dents form in the strong metal underneath your punches seemed to satisfy that anger you were feeling.

“Stand down, Y/N!” You could barely hear his voice over the sound, but you did hear and you didn't listen. Your efforts only became stronger at the sound of his voice, tears burning your eyes. Steve had no choice but to slowly lower to the ground the more powerful your punches became.

Steve's grip on the shield slipped, falling to the ground just as your fist connected to his jaw. You saw it, feeling yourself move in slow motion as you had just barely managed to pull back the force on the punch, but it still did a fair share of damage as he collapsed at the impact. You gripped his shirt in your fist, crumpling the fabric as you raised your arm. This would be a fatal blow, you had realized. The soldier was exhausted, all the fight in him seemingly gone, but it didn't feel as if your brawl with him lasted long. 

“We don’t have to do this,” he whispered. His cerulean eyes pleaded as he looked up at you, hoping to get through, hoping to pull what the others couldn't, but you saw right through his act. “I don’t know what they did to you, Y/N, but we can help.”

You breathed out, exasperated, releasing his shirt and moving to pick up his shield. As you shook your head, you hovered over him, gripping the guard tightly in both of your hands, holding it high above your head. “It’s too late for that, Steve.”

Clint would be an easy fight since his arm was suspended by a sling, a consequence of having a bullet go through your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but wonder why HYDRA wasted their resources to send the injured Avenger to hunt you down. Maybe they were giving you a second chance to finish the job, knowing exactly what you were doing when you shot the archer. Your aim wasn’t off, the through and through in his shoulder was intentional. At the time, you didn’t want to kill him, but plans change. This simulation is bound to be coming to an end in this warehouse, it was just dependent on whether you were the one to die, or you were the one to kill.

You followed the three of them from behind, Clint leading the two agents down the hall. And, unlike the agents following Tony, these two had their guns out and poised, ready to shoot when necessary. Maybe it was on Tony’s orders, figuring he was thinking he’d succeed in tricking you. It was unfortunate that he was wrong, but at least you satisfied HYDRA for the time being.

The eagerness to get out of this make believe world resulted in your heart to beat rampantly in your chest, knowing just how close you were to finishing the task at hand. It caused you to skip the stealth, wrapping an arm around the closest agents neck and ripping the gun out of her hand. You didn’t bother hiding when the other two spun around at the sound, Clint immediately stopping the second agent from shooting by putting his uninjured arm in front of him. You couldn’t help but laugh at that, recalling just how ready Clint was to end you not too long ago.

Plans really do change.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” His voice was steady, and you couldn’t really seem to focus on anything but your own heartbeat. “This isn’t you.”

You scoffed, furrowing your eyebrows slightly as your head tilted to the side, pressing the barrel of the gun to the agent’s temple. This was a little bit of a déjà vu moment for Clint, wasn’t it? For you? Well, you’ve been here before. Multiple times. Everything was déjà vu for you. “Why does everybody keep saying that?” You shook your head, leaning forward, and you could hear the agent in your arms whimpering lowly, scared. As she should be. “In this game, this is who I am. I believe it’s time for me to accept that.”

“This isn’t what you think it is,” he expressed, stepping towards you. “HYDRA isn’t here, they’re not controlling you anymore. This game you think you’re playing? It’s real life, Y/N, and everything you do today is permanent. There are no redo's. That man you shot on the street? This” - he gestured to his shoulder - “will always be there. And it’s your doing.”

“No.” You shook your head rapidly, your grip tightening around the agent’s neck. 

“Today is going to be on your conscience forever.”

“No, you’re lying. That’s what you do! You lie and lie and lie to get in my head and- and I’m not going to listen to it anymore.” Your arm seemed to have loosened, and the anger filling your mind distracted you from the agent in your arms, not feeling her reach into her pocket, not processing the click of a pocket knife.

“Y/N-”

“Shut up!” You released the agent in your arms to aim the gun at Clint, yet the woman was much braver than you had given her credit for. She didn’t hesitate to turn on you, driving the blade of her knife into your shoulder. Pain erupted through your arm, instinctively moving to shoot her instead out of revenge. The sound the gun made, it didn’t match that of a normal gun. It wasn’t loud, it was soft and high-pitched, muffled yet there was no silencer on the weapon. You eyed the gun in your hands more carefully, barely registering Clint ordering the agent next to him to run. This gun was nonlethal, you could see that by the lack of blood coming from the woman on the ground when you looked at her. But why was SHIELD suddenly being nonlethal? Tony’s pressurized shockwaves did no harm, and Steve was real quick to throw in the towel after only a few moments. And Wanda. She had multiple opportunities to kill you, yet she only ever closed that window when it opened.

Clint took advantage of your daze to move closer to you, his feet quiet and cautious. “We don’t want to hurt you,” he spoke up, pulling your attention to him. His footsteps halted where he was when you made eye contact with him, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as the light gun in your hands suddenly became heavy. “We just want to help.” 

You grunted as you pulled the knife from your arm, and it fell to the ground as your body tensed, a glitch crossing your field of vision once again. The gun did not survive the clench of your robotic hand, crumbling to pieces to the floor, yet the fault in the simulation only brought you back to realism. This is what HYDRA wanted you to believe. Let Clint get close to you under the false pretense of safety only to be stabbed in the heart by a knife he was surely hiding. No, none of them had any intentions of helping. The only thing they were programmed to do was lure you into fallacious security only to kill you seconds later. 

Clint was an easy fight since his arm was suspended by a sling.

You’re not really sure what made you double back to the manager’s office, but you stumbled through the door moments later to find Wanda still laying there, unconscious. You released a heavy breath as you fell to your knees next to her, swiping away any strands of hair that was covering her face gently before moving your hand against her neck. You sighed in relief when you felt her pulse push against your fingers in a steady rhythm, instinct taking over you as you shrugged your jacket off, balling it up and delicately placing it under Wanda's head. Your eyes fluttered close with sudden exhaustion as you pulled away from her to sit down. Your arm still throbbed from the wound, and you knew that the only reason you were still in this simulation is because you haven’t fully completed the job. Not yet. You still had two targets in the area, but as you looked at one of your next victims - her closed lids could never hide what you know to be one of the most lovely pair of eyes you’ve ever seen - you couldn’t seem to get yourself to move.

Movement in the corner of your eye caused you to finally look away from Wanda, down to a piece of paper resting underneath your leg. You watched as the useless graph you saw earlier slowly changed to form words that held more meaning to you, snatching the paper into your hands quickly to read what you can before the malfunction is corrected.

The fear of hurting the ███rs seems to be becoming an issue. Having been given the chance to █████████, the asset remains hesitant in completing the job. While █████████████████, both Agents ████ and ███ff are shown to still be alive. 

Asset replacement is imminent.

Replacement? Your incapability to not kill your friends comes at a cost, it looks like. You should’ve guessed that HYDRA’s patience in your disobedience can only go so far. You weren’t the only asset, knowing your partners on your excursions at the more public settings were also from SHIELD, remembering some of their faces from the last real thing you experienced. 

You released the paper in your hand and climbed to your knees, desperate to search for more information. If your replacement was imminent, then you would have to start following HYDRA’s command. Although, death in the real world would be a better solution than having to endure these nightmares every day, but that left you no chance in escaping, even if the chances for that were extremely slim already. The next piece of paper you picked up, the letters on the page began moving once more, forming words that seemed to be more important to you.

Dr. ████ has reason to believe that with just enough time and patience, the asset will display ████████████. In that case, we will be able to release her and continue on with the mission at hand.

You could feel your heart stop at the word. Release. There’s a chance you could be freed from this nightmare? That you can go back to Wanda and Natasha. The real Wanda and Natasha, not the illusion that has been regulated by evil scientists. But would it be the same? How would you be able to tell the difference between reality and simulation? You couldn’t trust HYDRA, you couldn’t trust the Avengers. You couldn’t trust… them, even though the desire to trust them was strong in your heart, but your marred brain told you otherwise. 

Yet, just the thought of being untethered to these simulations was enough to get your stomach churning. And, though the objective has been redacted, you knew what you had to do to achieve freedom, but as you tore your eyes away from the paper in your hand to look at her, you still couldn't find it in yourself to move from your position on the ground. She was peaceful, content. Her eyes were being deceitful, her smile wasn't crooked, her words were laced with dishonesty. Her chest raised up slowly, down even slower, and you knew you could stay in this spot all day.

You had to move. You had to finish the job, it was one step closer to amnesty. One step closer to feeling something real. You knew that, once you were free, you couldn't go back. As much as your heart desires it, your mind holds the inadequacy to trust anybody. 

As you climbed to your feet, you glanced down at the paper in your hand one last time, and felt yourself freeze as the words on the page changed once again. You breathed out, watching the letters swim around, blurring together, before finally settling.

The final result made your blood run cold.

Her footsteps reached your ears before her presence reached your eyes, picking your head up as the paper in your hands floated to the ground. She stood in the doorway, her eyes glued to Wanda's unconscious form. Blood had appeared on the witch's face, though you were uncertain where it came from. You could hear her heartbeat falter as she stumbled into the room, a gasp constricting her throat as she fell to her knees. Her hands flew to her neck, and the relief that eased her shoulders upon feeling the pulse was obvious to you. 

It wasn't rare for Natasha to show this kind of love to Wanda - there have been circumstances before where you had almost achieved HYDRA's goal, causing the vigilant assassin to rush to the injured witch without hesitation, and the tenderness in her eyes would dissolve into sheer anger when she looked at you. You had expected it. When Natasha's head turned towards you, you braced yourself for the wrath. But when the softness in her eyes didn't fade, a thin layer of tears making the emeralds shine, you felt yourself fall into the pits of confusion. Was she not angry? Wanda was hurt - possibly even bleeding, you were still unsure about that - but instead of being peeved about it, Natasha looked at you with… forgiveness.

Another trick, you've decided. Why wouldn't the redhead be angry at you for hurting Wanda? How protective she was of the witch. It has always made you jealous to see such love in the simulations between the two women, seeking that kind of affection. How was it fair for them to hold the same intimacy for each other as they did in real life? 

You took a step back when she got to her feet, feeling your foot bump into something on the ground. You didn't need to look at what it was, knowing it was the gun Wanda had dropped earlier. 

The longer you looked into her virescent eyes, the more you felt yourself succumbing to the same hesitation that was mentioned on the papers. You couldn't shake off the feeling of adoration no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself. Your heart was winning this battle, it seems. Even if freedom was on the line.

Neither of you said anything, silence settling in the entire warehouse. You were waiting for her to make the first move - was she going to kill you? - just as much as she was waiting for you. 

"I don't want to play anymore," you found yourself whispering, and the way Natasha's eyes softened at your words tugged at your heart. You leaned down, scooping the gun into your hand and taking a step towards her. "Please." You held the weapon out to her, but she only stared at you, not even bothering to give the firearm a glance. "I'm tired."

She refused the gun, her eyes watching you carefully as her head shook subtly, such a minute movement. You had to really focus in order to notice it. “I’m not going to hurt you, Y/N,” she expressed softly, tenderly. This was the affection you had always seeked in these games you’re forced to play, but did it really mean anything if it was all fake? Forged in a dark room by scientists that worked for HYDRA, the sentimental endearment shouldn’t mean anything to you, it was all worthless when it comes down to it, but why did it make you feel whole?

“Please,” you tried once more to appease to who Natasha truly was at the hand of the evil organization, programmed to do what the real Natasha would never be capable of doing. Because, if she didn’t take the gun and kill you, you’d use it to kill her. There was only one way out of this simulation, you had no choice. “Shoot me.”

At least HYDRA got one thing right when mapping out this Natasha lookalike - she’s still as stubborn as all hell. Her refusal to do what you’re begging of her was starting to get irritating. Why were they making her so obstinate? It only made it more difficult to get what you wanted.

“Shoot me!” Her flinch at the loudness in your voice was suddenly, you overlooked it. You knew you could be as loud as you want; there was nobody to hear you, nobody left to lead here to save her. Almost everybody that had stepped foot into this building was gone, no longer a concern. You were so close to finishing the job, so close to pleasing HYDRA, and now, when faced with the ultimate challenge that held eyes that made emeralds jealous, red hair that ignited memories in your mutilated mind, and lips that you wanted to feel so badly, you couldn’t be the one who brought this simulation to a close. “Just shoot me!” Maybe you were wrong. Maybe - as the gun twirled in your artificial hand to face the redheaded beauty - you could be the one. “Or I shoot you.”

Yet, the spy stood her ground. Her jaw locked, her arms crossed taut over her chest, her eyes rock solid as she looked at you from behind the barrel of the weapon, she didn’t waver. She knew, just as much as you did, that your empty threats were just that; empty. And your laughter was solemn when your arm lowered.

“That little voice saying there’s still hope?” You tapped the barrel of the gun against your temple, scoffing as a somber smile stretched your features. “It’s lying.”

Her chin lifted slightly at your words, swallowing harshly as she eyed you. “I’m not going to hurt you.” And then she sighed, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips as she took a small step towards you. “I know you’re not going to hurt me. I mean, look what you did to Wanda.” She gestured to the unconscious witch behind her, your sweatshirt used as a pillow to support her head, yet the blood on her face still remained. How did it get there? “Deep down, Y/N, you still care about me just as much as we care about you.”

“Stop.” Your nose burned as your head shook, looking down and pressing your hands against your temples once more in a sense of déjà vu. You huffed, your heart banging against your ribcage. “Stop, stop, stop.”

“You either kill me,” she continued, blatantly ignoring your command, “or you put the gun down and we leave. Together.” Another quiet step towards you. There was a part of you that wanted to believe her, a part of you that wanted to take her up on her offer. To leave, to walk away. But you couldn’t. “Put the gun down, Y/N.”

Pain. That familiar feeling, like electricity pulsing through your bones, triggered by the glitch obscuring your vision for a brief moment. The walls around you dissolved, and your breathing trembled greatly with anxiety as you found it difficult to move. Trapped in your body cell once again, the familiar dark room of crumbling bricks and dull lights. Your eyes widened, and you tried to beg them for release, but the mask clamping your jaw shut made it difficult for anybody in the room to hear you. Your heart became desperate now, panic and dread causing it to become to your ribcage what a jackhammer becomes to cement. You wanted out, but your screams only died against the metal covering your mouth. Your squeezed your eyes shut tightly to hide the tears forming. And, though you knew it was no use, your body convulsed in a hopeless attempt to break free.

“No!” You could hear your voice now, but with your eyes squeezed shut, you didn’t fully process that you were back in the manager’s office. “Let me out! Let me out! Let me out!” Your cries tore against your throat, pure fear igniting the fight or flight response in your mind. “I don’t want to be here anymore! Please!”

“Y/N!”

“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” Your hands clawed at your head, tears escaping your closed eyes to crawl down your cheeks.

You felt fingers catch your wrists, preventing you from doing further damage to yourself. Your eyes flew open, bloodshot with tears as you met the soft eyes of Natasha in front of you. She sent you a smile, but it didn’t last long before you ripped your hand free to wrap around her neck. Another malfunction, it reminded you just how powerful HYDRA is. Freedom was on the line now.

You pinned her against the wall, her hands gripping your wrist as the tips of her toes barely scraped the floor. The softness in her eyes was quickly replaced with fear, and you knew exactly how she was feeling at this moment because you, too, were scared.

You couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows when you felt the warm wetness coloring Natasha’s neck, tearing your eyes away from hers to look down. You could see the bright liquid in between your fingers, staining her neck a red color. Blood. But where did it come from? You weren’t holding anything sharp, and there was no blood on the assassin five seconds ago.

You found yourself releasing her, listening to her fall to the ground and catch her breath as you took a closer look at your shaking hand, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. You followed the red trail up your arm, eyeing the bleeding wound in your shoulder. Of all the things HYDRA has done to you, seeing your own blood was not one of them. Your breath hitched in your throat as you staggered backwards, moving your prosthetic fingers to touch the injury, and the pain you felt upon contact pulled a hiss out of you.

“This is real?” You looked at Natasha, wide eyes as she climbed to her feet. “‘Tash?” You felt a sudden wave of dizziness, swaying back and forth as the edges of your vision darkened. You fell to your knees, and the redhead was quick to join you. Her hands cupped your face, keeping your head straight so you could look into her eyes.

“It’s okay, milyy,” she said quietly, and you smiled weakly at the genuine affection, “I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I- I… killed them.”

It was becoming more difficult to keep your eyes open, but that didn’t seem to matter anymore. As darkness surrounded you, you could hear a high-pitched noise, soon followed by a jolt of electricity flowing through you.

And, as you slipped out of Natasha’s grip, the words on the last paper circled in your mind.

Don’t trust yourself.

[eijishimas]

caught red handed.

18+ nsfw content. minors dni. all characters are aged up.

masterlist.

content warnings: f!reader, college!au, masturbation, mentions of alcohol, voyeurism, daddy kink, bit of a handjob, bit of oral (m!receiving), filming, slight degradation, creampie, one (1) instance of bakugou slapping your pussy.

notes: happy belated birthday to my bestie, @rekiri . you deserve the world and so much more, you’re sweet and hilarious and i fucking love talking to you, whether we’re joking or being more serious. i know you told me not to, but i really wanted to write something for you as a gift (because ya girl is a bit of a broke bitch). ik it’s not eren, kiri, or reki, but i hope you like this piece regardless. i love you, even if you annoy me to death, you whore /j. this one’s for you <3

wc: 2.6k | inspo (nsfw link): xxx

Everyone knew college was stressful. Deadlines nearly every single week, assignments and essays, not to mention attending classes brought a whole new wave of anxieties for students every single day. Sometimes that stress was either doubled or relieved by having a partner for a project or two. Luckily for you, you and your old high school classmate Katsuki Bakugou were paired up for a project for one of your Quirk Law classes. It was a research project, one that required a forty slide presentation. You were headed on your way to Katsuki’s dorm today to work on it at the time you agreed upon: 5pm. Then you two would study together for upcoming midterms. It was all planned out down to a tee. So at around 3:50pm, Katsuki knew he had time. He figured he needed a break from his Rescue Tactics Indoors II class, otherwise his brain would begin oozing from his ears.

Pushing aside his overpriced textbook, he rolled his shoulders back, hearing the cracks of his stiff muscles while he stretched at his desk. He let out a sigh, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand as he scrolled mindlessly through his socials. Mina had posted a Throwback Thursday post, an old one of him and you back in your freshman year of college. His nose twitched in annoyance as he recalled the parties, more specifically Denki Kaminari’s birthday party, where he had gotten so drunk that the walls melted and bent before him. Katsuki’s expression changed however, as he swiped through the collection of photos to stumble across an image of you and him. Have you always worn dresses that tight? You practically had your ass out from how short your garment had been cut, tits threatening to spill out of your low hanging neckline. Not only that, but Katsuki had an arm slung around your shoulder. His smile was stretched wide due in part to the alcohol in his system, but also because you were standing next to him. You were laughing at something Mina had said behind the camera, your hand tossed against the slightly unbuttoned shirt Katsuki had worn that night. Your fingers had brushed against his toned chest and he scoffed at the thought. Slowly but surely, memories of that party flooded back to Katsuki in waves.

They were mostly recounts from Kirishima and Mina, but apparently you two had made out in front of everyone that night. He swiped left again, swallowing dryly as he saw just that. Your manicured fingers were wrapped tight around his party shirt, tongues in a deadly dance of want and desperation for each other. Katsuki’s eyes grew as he noticed that the photo hadn’t cut out the part where he had been kneading your ass through that skimpy dress of yours. Immediately, Katsuki went to Mina’s dms demanding to take down the photo. And she did, thank god, but not without sending Katsuki more than ten photos of you and him making out at the party. He clenched his jaw, anger and a low desire plaguing his conscience. Glancing to the top left corner of his phone, he noted the time. 4:10pm.

He had time.

Saving the photos to his gallery, he pushed his chair away from his desk to have some fucking breathing room. His eyes flitted down to his sweats and as he expected, there was a tent forming. He groaned, wiping the sweat from his palms off on his pant leg before languidly beginning to palm himself through his clothes. His breaths quickened, chest stuttering as he looked to his phone displaying the photos of you and him. There’s a faint recollection in the back of his head of how you taste. Like cherries from your glossy lips, like vodka from the shots you took off of Denki earlier that evening, how you moaned into his mouth the night you had drunkenly kissed.

Katsuki tugged the waistband of his sweats down, allowing his previously constrained cock to breathe. It slapped against his stomach, heavy and leaking. Shit, he didn’t remember being this horny at the beginning of this. Spitting into his palm, he lubed up his dick as best as he could on short notice. His eyelids drooped as he swiped through the pictures like a filmstrip, a montage of all the best moments he had with you at that party. You grinding on his lap, you whispering dirty ideas you wanted to do with him later, you, you, you…

Katsuki squeezed his aching shaft, fisting his cock as precum dribbled down his slippery head. His face was an uncanny shade of crimson, a testament to how horny he was all for a few old pictures of the two of you. “Y/n.” He swore he barely recognized his voice from how breathless and needy it was. He continued to pump his cock, the only thoughts replaying in his mind were perverted fantasies of you bouncing on his dick hard enough to hear the slap of your ass cheeks against his abs.

Tapping the screen of his phone twice to zoom in, he admired your curves with pursed lips. Fuck, you really were gorgeous. Everything about you radiated a sinful nature he could never put his tongue on. You were tempting him, licking flames up his body with such intensity that made him shiver. He cursed, thumb drifting over his slit as he hissed. Fuck you for being as ravishing as you were that night, fuck you for making him feel so goddamn needy for your-

“Bakugou, I was about to text you but I remembered you were studying today, so I figured it would be okay if I came a bit...” your words trailed off. You blinked rapidly in an attempt to process the scene unfolding before you. Katsuki Bakugou, holding his dick in his hand, face on fire with a deep blush, his other free hand secure around his phone with- was that a picture of you from your freshman year of college? There was a beat of silence, Katsuki’s uneven breathing the only sound in the room aside from the low drawl of the ceiling fan over both of your heads. You gaped at him, tongue darting out to wet your lips upon realizing his hand hadn’t stopped moving. If anything, you saw his hand flex around his cock, further tightening his grip as you stood right in front of him.

“What the fuck-”

“What?” he beat you to the punch, his lips twitching into a devilish smile, “Don’t like what you see?” His confidence knocked the air out of you, your bewildered attitude showing true on your features. Your body feels warm, searing beneath his gaze. “Excuse me?” you squeaked out, overcome with both curiosity and a hint of lust for the ash blond.

“Are you gonna fucking help me or not?” His pride was refusing him to be flustered, not when he was this feverish for you. He needed the upper hand, he needed control over this situation. And it seemed by how you were shifting your weight from side to side, that it was happening just as he wanted. Who were you to refuse such an offer from Katsuki Bakugou?

And that’s how you ended up here, nestled between thick, muscled thighs with your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock. He had you spit over his dick, his entire shaft gleaming in all its glory as it stood to attention in your grasp. The flash of his camera burned your eyes as you suckled on his crown, hand continuously jerking his cock while he ravenously watched you through the screen. The guttural groan that escaped him was nothing short of music to your ears, your thighs tensing as the coils of heat continued to build and knot between your legs.

“Mm. Keep going like that, take it. All the way in now, like a good little slut,” Katsuki instructed, his voice slicing through the heavy atmosphere of desire. The words make you whimper, enveloping his sensitive head in vibrations while you lick around his slit. A large hand cupped your face, forcing you to make eye contact with the ash blond behind the camera. His black tank top truly had no confines over him, since it was tight enough to see the outlines of his pecs and ripped torso. Katsuki sure worked hard to maintain his appearance, but you knew he had the strength to back those muscles up. The thought of him completely dominating you, holding you with strong arms and pinning you down with his body made your pussy even more wet with your slick than it already was. Even from how you were on your knees, Katsuki possessed an unspoken will over you. You wanted to please him, make him feel good, make him have no good reason not to give you everything he had to offer.

You took your lips off of his head with a little ‘pop’, eyes wide and expectant as a string of drool connected your bottom lip to the tip of his cock. Bakugou’s smile grew, making sure your face was completely in frame and in focus. “Dirty girl,” he hummed, thumb tracing the apple of your cheek before guiding your lips toward his twitching cock. You slowly kissed the vein on the side of it, mumbling out four words:

“Your dirty girl, daddy.”

The moment the words left your mouth, Katsuki let out a low, gravelly moan. It was as if a switch inside him had flipped. Without warning, he’s pulling you off the floor and sitting you down in his desk chair instead. He’s a bit rough, his vision clouded by the sheer want to fuck you until you were screaming his name, until his name was the only word your pretty little brain could recall. He abandoned his phone and instead had his hands drop to the armrests of his desk chair, encasing your body as he towered over you. Your skirt was immediately shucked up your waist and Katsuki’s hands went to work on your panties. He ripped them off completely, tossing them aside without a care as to where they went. He gazed down at you with fervour, licking his lips at the sight of your dripping cunt.

“Who’s pussy is this?” he coaxes with a grin, teeth shining. His hand slipped between your thighs, his index and middle finger tracing up and down your slit. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, your thighs instinctively closing around his hand. Your face bloomed with warmth, eyes darting away from his cocky demeanour, “Baku—”

Your body jolted as a firm smack was delivered to your sensitive pussy, a wet, lewd sound meeting your ears as he did. It made a high pitched, whiny moan be pulled out from your throat.

Fuck.

“Try again,” he ordered, tone demanding and almost condescending. His lips ghosted yours yet he never had any intention of moving close enough to seal the gap between the two of you. You whimpered, eyes meeting the dark red irises that were staring straight through you.

“‘S yours, daddy.”

“Now that’s a good fuckin’ girl.”

His lips found yours, teeth tugging at your bottom lip hard enough to make the warmth in your stomach double. The liquid heat had been building ever since you walked in, and you were fairly certain that you weren’t going to last much longer.

He hooked your knees over his elbows, biceps flexing as the muscles in his arms supported your full weight. He picked you up with such ease, your arms flying around his neck as you squeal, gasping at how little effort that took him. He was a pro-hero in training, of course he had practiced lifting people up no matter their body type or size. Either way, it didn’t matter to him. He thought you looked rather angelic clinging onto him regardless. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat with his hands spreading your cheeks, grunting as he adjusted you in his arms. He slid slowly into your slick cunt inch by suffocating inch, your walls fluttering and enclosing around his throbbing cock. Katsuki’s breathing was unsteady, eyes watching your expression intently in hopes that this new position would give you as much pleasure as it was giving him. His ego was running rapant from how you were holding onto him for dear life. You were practically shaking in his grasp, mouth open in an ‘o’ shape as all you could do was gape at how deep he reaches within you. You were keening, eyes hazed with lust and nails digging crescents into his shoulder blades hard enough to make him hiss.

When you finally catch your breath and adjust to his size, you give him a curt nod as an indication for him to start moving. Slowly, he lifted you up off his cock until his head kissed your entrance before allowing gravity to do most of the work. This position had his cock nudging your cervix and it made the knot in the pit of your stomach squeeze further, threatening to snap with every loud smack of his balls echoing through his dorm room. He pistoned into you like that, reaching deeper to rearrange your insides. It was like your entire body was being engulfed with pleasure and fire. He took in your face, how it scrunched in pleasure, hair sticking to your face as you mumble out how much you want to cum, how much you need to cum.

“Fuckin’ tight just for daddy, hah?” he cooed to you, “You wanna cum all over my cock like a little slut? You were watching me from the door jerking off for you. Dirty fuckin’ girl. Who’s making you feel good? Say it. Spit it out.”

“You!” you moaned, your head feeling light from the way the veins on the side of his cock rubbed your walls, “You, daddy. Please let me cum. I w- wanna cum!”

“I can’t hear you,” Katsuki rumbled, eyes steeled before you unmoving and unwilling to give you permission just yet. “Please!” you begged, “I’m a dirty girl. I’m your dirty girl, daddy! Please let me cum!” You were too engrossed in your pleasure to have any semblance of shame. Katsuki grinned. That’s what he wanted to hear. He let out a tiny ‘tch’ before uttering out, “Then cum, slut.”

Without another word, you let out a final wanton moan, gushing around him as the liquid heat finally expels from your body. Your orgasm hits you in waves, your body quivering with each new sensation as you hold Katsuki’s cock within your cunt. Your nails leave angry red marks along Katsuki’s shoulders, ultimately sending him hurtling towards his own release.

Cum dripped down his twitching cock, your chest heaving as your legs feel like jelly. Tingles shot down your spine as Katsuki pumped rope after rope of his sticky cum well enough to paint your inner walls white. He helped you ride out your high, delivering harsh bitemarks to your neck to leave a mural of hickeys claiming you as his. The smile he gives you is cocky, prideful, and arrogant. He placed you back down on his desk chair, your thighs still going through the aftershocks of your high. Reaching for his phone, he tapped the app icon for his camera. He knelt down, chuckling as your fingers slid between your legs to spread your lower lips for him. His cum seeped out past your slit, leaking down to your puckered asshole.

“There we go. Aren’t you daddy’s good girl, hm?”

Tiredly, you nodded.

“‘M daddy’s good girl.”

all works © eijishimas 2021. do not reuse, modify, or repost.

tags:

@lonleyweeb77 @cynthus-no @lonelyheart-cluband @smhhyung @stoopidnekobish @kiridarling @kirislilrock @baku-deku1 @hajisuu @damnitcrowley @foruthemoon @peaxhcringe @justanotheruselessextra @izukuuarchive @katsuki-kitten @shokoarashi sorry i couldn’t tag all of you!

want to be on the taglist? see here.

[hummingbird-games]

this review/gameplay account contains spoilers for An Everyday Love (Ezra’s route) so here’s your first and last chance to run along *shoos you*

SO!

Umm.

Words?? Maybe??

Heart reactions (ramblings): I knew I was going to love this game. I KNEW I Was Going To Fall In Love With Ezra (again). I knew that in the deepest and darkest spaces inside me, this story would resonate. The cozy and cute art style. The grounded, though tough struggles of our main character. The humor and witty parts that made me crack up. Our deep and loving friendship with Amara. The moments that made me look into my imaginary camera in my dining room alone at dark-thirty, eyes wide and incredulous, trying not to disturb my sleeping family, sometimes crying but mostly smiling and so, so, so happy to have made it to play this game.

This game was made with love and care, and you can tell. You can feel it. And all the side characters that appear on Ezra's route were either a joy or a pain lol but welcomed in my gaming experience just the same. (GRACE AND STEPH I LOVE Y'ALL!!!) 

Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh, and yeah this game was sweet as hell, but I am an adult and I do like to partake in adult things from time to time and what I'm trying to communicate here is that I was there for the sexy scenes....lemme repeat that...I was there for the sex!!! (Love this for all of y'all reading this oh my God 😭😂) Nah but really, the heat + the sweet were present and accounted for and I’m a happy camper LOL!

And the fairytale portion of the story? Cue the sound of my heart breaking because it was so well done. Probably where I shed the most tears, and I was doing so well keeping it together so I could read the words on my screen without obstruction!!

Brain tings (aka the 'review' portion): In recent memory, and by that I mean in the three-ish years I've been actively playing visual novels, I can't name another game that delves into chronic illness and disability centering the main character that’s also in the slice of life romance genre. It's not an experience I can claim, but it is one I have empathy for and believe that reading/seeking out representation of others' experiences is the only way we're gonna get through this life in one piece doing the least amount of harm. 

Seriously.

 And as someone who deals with from mental illness and will have to deal with it for the rest of her life, it's comforting to be reminded that stories don't have to show this borderline (sometimes over the fence) toxic positivity of dealing with those struggles. Sometimes you feel like shit. Sometimes you push people away. Sometimes you take chances on people and they burn you with the intention to hurt. But sometimes you take chances and they pay off. But you gotta keep going, and if I take anything away from this game, it's that message: Keep. Going.

Retrospective thoughts: I wrote this category out thinking I'd have another concise paragraph in me, but that was a lie. The main thing I wanted to get out was that as someone who discovered she falls on the demisexual/demiromantic spectrum, I've made it my annoying second job to sniff it out in the media I consume. (Spare crumbs?????)  And I have a Hunch about a Mr. Ezra Hale. (I related to him more than was healthy is all I want to admit zkfjdhjdhgfjg)

ALSO OH MY GOD HE'S SUCH A CUTE DRUNK I CAAAAAANNNNNNN'TTTTTTTTT

AND WE HAVE A (SOFT) GAMER BOYFRIEND!?!?!!

...ahem, lemme just *places another hashtag* 

#SoftBlackMen 😏✌🏽💞

I don't care, I win. I win at life. Otome men have ruined me again for the real thing and I don't care. Am I a little crushed Ezra isn't real? ... NEXT QUESTION!

Another thing, I usually avoid bad endings like the plague (I've got enough bad endings in real life, like wayament 😭✋🏽) so I was lowkey hoping I'd get Ezra's bad ending on accident so I wouldn't have to do it on purpose (#noguidegang) but then I would have made it everyone's problem. 

So. Someone was looking out for y'all LOL. But this is a game I will actively replay, so I will be obtaining all the endings and living my best life.

(also part 3, because game dev lives her best life on Twitter as does the rest of the VN community, I will go make some noise on there sometime because she deserves it and I'm nothing if not obnoxious as hell when I want something known)

[angellissy]

Hey :) I’ve never requested anything before so I’m sorry if i do it wrong hahah

But could I request something where instead of ward faking his death it’s rafe who has to do it and none of the pouges know about your relationship until it’s you crying in the dock instead of Sarah. And when you and the piggies go on the “rescue” mission to get Sarah off of the boat you see rafe and eventually end up staying with him and leaving your friends

I’m sorry if this is really long xx thank you for taking the time to read my request

R E A C H I N G  F O R  T H E  S U R F A C E

SEASON TWO SPOILERS!

rafe Cameron x Reader

warnings: angst with a big a, canon rafe (maybe a bit softer), toxic relationship, rafe playing the victim card, death and talks of suicide.

a/n: I feel like it is of importance that I tell you all that I have done everything in my power not to romanticize the rafe cameron character and if I have then please kindly let me know because sometimes it can be hard. However I still need to say that I am writing through the eyes of the “reader” who very much still cares for this boy, which also means that the way the reader deals with things might not have been your way. If any more warnings should be included in the beginning, feel free to let me know. I hope you enjoy this fic which I am actually very proud of. A big thanks to @snkkat​ who is my proof reading buddy. Also thanks for sending in the request, I LOVED writing it! <3

They say that when you die your life flashes before your eyes, but how about when you watch someone else die? For as you watched him die, the life and moments the two of you had shared flashed before your eyes like a string of reminders of a life and love lost. It felt as if there was no air for you to breathe, you weren’t even sure how long it had been since you managed to take a full breath. Your mind was running in circles, trying to grasp what had just occurred, replaying the scene over and over again until you were not even sure what reality you were in. With a hammering heart and a split soul, you were kneeling on the dock, just minutes after watching your first love take his own life. You could not even remember how you had gotten out here in the first place, you just wished that you would have stayed behind as all your friends rushed toward a disaster in waiting. Perhaps that would have spared you some of the heartbreak, spared you from hearing him scream that he loved you one last time, spared you from seeing his boat go up in flames. But no, you were sure that for as long as you lived, you would see that blazing inferno whenever you closed your eyes.

There were arms around you, an attempt to soothe your shaking body, it only made you feel more trapped in a memory you would never escape. Those arms lifted you up and suddenly you were walking, mixed in all the anger and sadness there was a surprise that your body was even able to function. It felt as if you were outside of your body watching everything occur, you watched as Kiara and JJ helped you sit down on a sofa and as they draped a blanket over your shoulders. You watched it unfold, but you couldn’t feel it and there was no way that you would be able to respond to their worried questions. Instead, you were stuck in a mind that replayed everything Rafe had ever said or done to you as if that somehow could manifest him back to life. That stuck-up boy with the golden hair had been your first boyfriend, complicated as the relationship may have been, it had been the first time you ever experienced something close to love. Just days ago you had stood before him, tears in your eyes and heart in your throat as you called the relationship off. For a very long time, he had not been the boy you fell for, but rather a ghost of who he once was. Where he had once been sweet and tender with you, there had only been cold stares and words sharp enough to cut through ice. You were not oblivious to the fact that he struggled with issues you could never comprehend, but you refused to be an accomplice in his undoing. Time after time you had tried to be the person he could cling to when the world sat heavily upon his shoulders, but you soon realized that love and affection could not solve all problems. Oh, and you had loved him so much that you would have done anything for him to smile at you the way he had when he uttered those big three words for the first time. He had watched you with eyes that held so much adoration that you thought that they would never dim, that they would shine brighter for each time his eyes found yours. But eventually, they had dulled, and so you had realized that you would not sacrifice yourself no matter how much you cared for him. It did not matter that you had called things off with him or that you had decided to leave him in order to save yourself, for the knowledge that he was actually gone made it feel like someone was clawing at your heart and trying to rip it apart. It felt like no time in the world would be able to heal the pain in your chest or dry the tears falling from your eyes.

Time was indeed a funny thing, how seconds turned into minutes and how then those minutes became hours. Hours that you spent reminiscing over a life you thought you had given up before it was lost forever. You clung to the memories of him as if they were the lifebuoy keeping an anchor from pulling you down in a sea made up of your own sorrow. You knew that you were staying in your own made-up memories of a relationship with more bad times than good, but a part of you felt that you could not grieve the person he had become. For he had been vile and horrid, and if you acknowledged that, you would feel guilty for the sadness overwhelming you. So yes, you stayed in your made-up reality and wept for the boy that could have been. As hours turned into days, your friends made every effort to comfort you and try to get you out of the room that had become your place of mourning. Their tries aggravated you, for they did not understand the feelings rushing through your body at such speed it made you lightheaded. Each one of them had hated Rafe Cameron with at least one bone in their body and you knew how some of them had looked the day he died as if they were content that he was finally gone. Relieved that he could no longer plague them with taunts and threats that might have become reality was it not for his passing. You might have understood this, had it not been for the grief and guilt plaguing every bone in your body.

As days turned into weeks, you eventually came to appreciate their efforts to help you. It was like your vision was starting to clear and you could finally start trying to live your life again, and the first step to doing that was always to surround yourself with people that made you roar with laughter. Their ventures to try and find the Cross of Santo Domingo, were helpful, to say the least. Those adventures were as distracting as they were terrifying since the outcome was never given. Your mixed friend group of pogues and kooks had actually found that damn cross as well. Who would have thought that a bunch of high school kids would be able to find a historic relic? The answer would have been no one, and that is why you don’t underestimate kids with no limits. The cross had been in your grasp until a greedy and manipulative Ward Cameron came along and grabbed it. Ever since that particular happening, things started going south fast and it all ended up with Sarah being kidnapped by her own guardians. It also ended up with the rest of you stowed away like cargo on the ship she was on. While John B and Pope carried out their plan to find Sarah and the famous cross, you, JJ, and Kie sweated from every pore as you waited to hear from them. You had zoned out, staring mindlessly into one of the walls of the container, in the background you could hear your two friends talk about their dreams for the future. Something about going on several surfing trips at various destinations with each other, and that part made your heart ache. Sure, after everything he had done, a future with Rafe had not been one of your dreams. Still, as you listened to your friends talk, you could only remember a time where he had been everything you wanted in life. You pressed your palms upon your face as if you somehow could force every memory of him to remain in that little part of your brain where you were hoping they would become forgotten. A loud clank dragged you out of your thoughts and you looked up just in time to see Pope and John B climb in through that small window opening, followed by a woman you had never ever seen. Shortly after that, problems started to arise and soon all of you were scrambling out of the container in hopes of not being detected by the workers on the boat. They were in obvious search of all of you, which made you sweat even more than you had done inside the container. All of you received different plans on how to tackle the situation, yours was to act as a lookout for John B as he searched for Sarah.

You followed him down to what you could only assume was the boiler room since steam was thick in the air and you took your place by the door as he ventured further down. His desperate cries for Sarah echoed through the room and you dearly wished for a response to be heard, but there was nothing except the sound of his shoes against the floor. Thump, thump, thump and then utter silence until John B utters a name that made it feel as if the floor was pulled away from under your feet.

“Rafe.”

One of your hands finds the doorframe, a poor attempt to steady yourself as you try to figure out if this is a trick played by your grieving mind. You take a few breaths and as the silence is once again interrupted by two raised voices, you follow John B’s path down into the room. The heart in your chest is beating so hard that it feels like you are going to throw up, and it only gets worse the nearer you come. At first, you only see your friend, but then you look past him

and

your

heart

stops.

Rafe Cameron had died in front of your very eyes, so either the gods were playing a nasty cruel joke or you had lost the battle with your mind. You shut your eyes just to open them again, and no matter how many times you did it, he still remained. What happened next was a bit peculiar to you, for weeks you had drowned in grief where sadness was the constant emotion, but as you looked him in the eye and saw that he was very much alive, rage and anger crushed into you with the force of a thousand waves. You stepped toward him, only for an arm to shoot out to stop you, and John B added to his gesture by saying “Don’t”. Laughter bubbled in your throat, for who was he to tell you what you could or could not say to your “dead” ex-boyfriend who seemed to never stop causing you grief.

“Find Sarah.” John B hesitated for a few moments before following your unspoken order to leave you and Rafe alone. It wasn’t surprising considering that his worry for Sarah would always overpower anything else. Once again you looked into Rafe’s blue eyes, remembering a time when you used to stare in them for so long you would see specks of green and grey. Had you searched for those colors now, you would probably have found them. However, you were trying to decipher whatever feeling that was shining in them, was it anger? No, his other features were too soft for that and the hand holding his weapon had gone slack as he watched you. Maybe it was relief? No that was not it either, for why would he be relieved to see you? You were not the one who had died and left the other behind. You stepped even closer to him, the simmering anger inside of your veins made your hands shake and he looked at them briefly as if he wanted to take them in his. Your hands clenched into fists and you watched as his shoulders dropped the tiniest bit, and suddenly you knew exactly what was shining in his eyes.

Love, and sadness. Your heart started to speed up again, and you knew that once you opened your mouth, the anger and grief that had become part of you, would tumble out in words that you would never be able to take back. But he had done something much worse, so he would listen, you would make sure of it. Your lips parted slightly and he must have seen it for his words came first.

“I- fuck I am sorry okay? But I had to do it, you wouldn’t understand but I had to do it, it was the best for everyone.” As he says this you can’t help the sound that slips through your lips, it was supposed to be a laugh but it sounds more like a sob. His eyes flicker between you and everything else in the room as if there was anything in here that could save him for this conversation. You move your hands toward your chest and his eyes watch as you press them hard against your chest, against the heart that won’t stop breaking.

“Best for everyone?” Your voice is the combination of a whisper and a ragged breath “Did you have my best interest in mind when you let me believe you had blown yourself up?” He winces and makes an attempt to say something but you hold up a hand to stop him. “Did it ever occur to you how your little stunt would affect the one person who still, despite everything, loved you?” This time, your voice has started to rise towards something like a scream, and how could you not scream when there is so much sadness inside of you that it felt like just looking at him would turn your body into a pool of water.

“You broke up with me, so don’t start acting like a victim where you aren’t one.” His features are starting to morph into those he carries when anger overcomes him, but you will not back away from this. Your hands are in your hair, pulling at it as if that would help you make sense of this situation. “You broke my heart long before I broke yours.” You can’t help the way your voice breaks or the tears that start falling from your eyes.“You needed and still need help and until you receive that help, you are prone to hurt anyone in your vicinity.” Now it is his turn to drag his hands through his hair and his breaths come faster and faster until you realize that he is starting to hyperventilate. He sinks to the floor and you follow, not sure how to help when it feels like his state is mirroring your own. With cautious movements, you place your hands on his shoulders, and the shaking of his body sends trembles throughout yours. For a while nothing happens, you just sit there with your hands on his body and watch him fall apart. Perhaps you should have been glad that he was suffering, after everything he had done to you he deserved it. But you couldn’t feel anything other than anguish and as a sob escaped his body every restraint you had kept on yourself broke and you hugged him towards your chest. You could never save him, but he clung to you as if you had the power to undo every wrong he had ever done. After a while, he looks up at your tear-streaked face and one of his hands reaches up to cup it. You want to look away because you can see everything in those eyes of his, every regret and every wish he has ever had. His forehead leans towards you and you feel his hot breath against your skin. As you breathe in the scent of cologne and feel his skin against yours, you feel overwhelmed by the fact that he is actually here. You notice that his lips part and for a second you are scared that he is going to kiss you, but he must know that there is a limit to your patience with him so he just whispers words with the promise of what could have been. “I wanted to be good for you.” A small smile takes place on your lips and you close your eyes as you try to restrain the well of emotions inside of you. “I know Rafe, I know.” He breathes out a little, almost as if he is relieved that you are aware that he tried in a world and with a mind constantly working against him. You knew, but you also knew that there was someone else out there for you. Someone who would love you in a way that Rafe would never be able to, in a way that would not send the two of you to the bottom of the ocean. Whoever was out there would make you swim. For so long you had wanted to believe that Rafe was the one, despite all his flaws you would have given anything for him to be your future. It was a relief to know that you could and deserved to have more. But you also knew that you needed to do something before that could happen.

“I will stay-.” Before you could even finish your sentence he whipped his head up to look at you with such hope you never wanted to continue talking. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to go on. “I will stay with you just to make sure you receive the help you need.” His whole body deflated and you had to bite your lip in order not to cry again. Eventually, he nodded and you closed your eyes in relief. You knew that this had to be the right move, no one else would listen to him or make sure he got help, so you needed to be the one to did. Just enough so that you finally could start swimming towards the surface.

[fragileflorals]

“His Solaced Embrace” | Hawks x Reader Comfort Fic

Summary: The busy week takes a toll on you, bringing you to an anxiety overload until Keigo comes home to comfort you. Warnings: anxiety/panic attack, family issues, work stress Notes: hi! this is my first post here! i hope you all enjoy this! if you do, please don’t hesitate to message me with requests for more hawks comfort fics! i want to practice more with my writing, and i’ve also been a huge hawks simp so combining the two would be awesome!

also on ao3

Walking through the front door of your apartment was the best feeling you had all day. After dealing with the final, brutal work shift of the week, your time off had finally begun. Even so, the relief didn’t seem to be enough to decrease the lingering stress from the workplace.

With a heavy sigh, you dropped your bag and keys on the table before making your way to the couch. Flopping down on the cushions, you pulled out your phone from your pocket to see a text from Keigo that you had received earlier.

Will be home in about an hour. Sorry kid, important meeting that was last minute. Will make it up to you.  ♥

You whined silently to yourself as you texted back a thumbs up. After placing your phone on the coffee table, you laid down on your back and covered your eyes with your arm. You were used to your boyfriend’s work making him late, but tonight, you couldn’t help but feel irritated. You were so stressed out, and it seemed like the only thing that could make it better was him wrapping his arms and wings around you. God, you were so reliant on him sometimes.  

The memory of today’s incidents replayed in your mind without command. A ping of anxiety hit your chest as you thought of how your boss gave you an attitude over something not getting done. Little did he know that the task that was left unfinished wasn’t even your responsibility. But he wouldn’t listen as he was too busy barking at you.

It wasn’t just your boss’ poor attitude that was weighing you down. It was everything in between. The rude customers, the lazy coworkers, and if you had to be honest with yourself, you just weren’t enjoying the job. You wished things were different. You wanted to be a pro hero, just like Keigo. You wanted to work by his side saving others so badly. However, because of your poor grades in high school, you couldn’t find any scholarships to cover your tuition at the University of U.A. You had to take out student loans just to barely make your way into the school. Now you were suffering for it as you worked day after day to pay it all back.

On top of your financial situation, it was the constant banter from your parents for doubting your decisions. They never supported your dream of becoming a pro hero. You figured it was out of jealousy, since they were unable to get accepted into any hero high schools, which made it even harder for them to get accepted into any hero colleges after that. They were probably projecting that jealousy onto you while also pointing out your flaws that held you back from receiving any kind of financial aid. There were so many times you just wanted to cut ties with your parents altogether, but your heart said otherwise. They were your family. You knew they loved you, in some sort of way.

Thinking about all of this was like a boiling pot of water overflowing in your brain. Your heart pounded, your breathing grew faster, and your limbs began to shake. You whimpered as you attempted to sit up, rubbing your temples with shaky hands as you shut your eyes tight. All of the stress, anger, and pressure from the week had finally gotten to you at that moment. You were aware of what was happening, but it didn’t change the fact that you were suffering. You began to cry as the anxiety attack took over your entire body. As you sat there, trembling, you breathed in and out at a fast pace.

It wasn’t until you heard the front doorknob jingling that you held your breath. You didn’t even bother to look up as you heard the door open. Instead, you focused on trying to calm down as quickly as possible. If you weren’t so weak in that moment, you would’ve gotten up and hid in the bathroom. However, your body felt weighed down.

You sat there in silence, the inside of your body feeling like it was going to erupt as you could hear Keigo making his way into the living room.

“Y/N, I’m home,” you heard Keigo say as you heard footsteps coming closer to you from behind the couch. You swallowed a heavy lump in your throat as you felt his hand pet the top of your head a couple of times. Suddenly, he stopped, laying his hand still on top of your scalp.

“Hey… what’s wrong?”

That was all it took for you to gasp for air as you allowed the inner attack to take over your outer being. Before you realized he had moved, Keigo was now sitting next to you on the couch, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulders. You leaned in, feeling like a domino as you fell in his lap.

“Hey, hey, shhhhh, it’s ok, I’m here now,” he sweetly spoke as he rubbed your shoulder. You sobbed into his thighs, choking for air.

“I need you to breathe slower for me, please. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded and focused on your breathing just as he said. You inhaled slowly through your nose, held it for two seconds, and then let out a shaky exhale through your mouth. You repeated this several times. Keigo continued to rub your shoulder. He pulled in one of his wings closer to your body, bringing you comfort as you felt the attack fading away.

You laid there, sniffling and covering your face. The two of you were silent for a moment before Keigo spoke.

“You did so good, baby bird,” he praised. “Did anything trigger you in particular? We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I’m here if you need to talk about it.”

You slowly sat up, Keigo tucking his wing behind him away from your body. You wiped your soaked face with the back of your arm and sighed deeply. For a moment, you hesitated in telling him anything. You predicted he probably had a rough day himself, so you didn’t want to add to his stress. However, you knew deep in your heart that Keigo would never lie to you.

So, you poured your heart out to him. You told him about your work situation, leading into your stress about how you felt stuck in that situation to pay off your loans. Then you told him about your family’s doubt. While you said all this, he leaned back into the couch and looked at you with empathy. He nodded every now and then at your words. When you were finished, you felt so much better. You couldn’t help but smile softly at him afterwards.

“Thank you, Keigo,” you sighed. “I feel a lot better now. I’m… I’m so sorry--”

“Hey now, don’t you apologize, kid,” he reassured. “I get it.”

“I… ok,” you looked down at your lap, your hands folded over one another. “I don’t really need any advice, honestly. Just having someone to listen to my problems is enough. Especially if it’s you.”

“Well, I’m still gonna give my two cents, if that’s alright.”

You nodded as you felt one of his hands caress your face. You looked up at him, his golden eyes gazing into yours, making you feel at ease.

“I don’t want you to ever hide your true feelings from me. I know things are hard for you, so I want to be your wingman. I will do whatever it takes to see you happy, so you can smile more. You have the most beautiful smile in the world, you know that? I love seeing it. You have a smile that can light the whole city,” he leaned in for a slow kiss on your forehead. “So please… please know I’m here. I don’t want to see you suffering alone. And if there is any moment I’m not there, just remember my words, alright? Remember you’re so strong.”

He kept his hand on your cheek as you felt your eyes stinging from more tears making their way out. Not from sadness this time, but from bliss. You grabbed his hand that was on your face and kissed the back of it before looking up at him with a smile.

“There’s that smile,” Keigo chuckled. “So beautiful.”

He kissed you before getting up from the couch and stretching his arms.

“Now then, I did say I would make it up to you for being so late,” he said, turning around to look at you. “Why don’t we go for an afternoon flight and watch the sunset? Maybe go get dinner, on me?”

“That sounds wonderful,” you responded. “Let me just get out of this work uniform, ok?”

You got up and started to make your way to the bedroom. Keigo stopped you in your tracks, grabbing your arm and pulling you into his embrace. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you passionately. He broke the kiss and chuckled.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I couldn’t help myself. Go get ready, sweetheart.”

[msmarvelwrites]

Almost Is Never Enough

Summary: Ever since Steve had come out of the ice all those years ago, his only goal had been to get back to Peggy Carter. A home that was waiting and forgetting him all at once. But that doesn't make it any easier to watch him go.

Pairing: Steve x reader

Warnings: Angst, angst, just a little bit of angst, fluff, language. 

Word Count: 2.4k

Authors Note: Thank you to the wonderful @remmiesour for this request. It’s been a decade, but I finally got around to it! I’ve never written for Steve and honestly I didn't think I ever would but, famous last words I guess! Enjoy!

Ever since Steve had come out of the ice all those years ago, his only goal had been to get back to her. A home that was waiting and forgetting him all at once. She was there, and if it was the last thing he did, he would be too. 

So, when the opportunity presented itself, when he could actually find his long lost love, you already knew he had made the decision before the words fell from his lips. 

You knew. But god, that didn't make it any easier. 

You hadn’t meant for it to happen, falling in love with the world's most unavailable man. In every sense of the word, it was an accident. 

And yet, there you stood, eyes trained on his face as he laughed with his friends. The sound ripping through you like it always did. For the past week you had been trying to memorize the sound. The way it filled the room, pulling smiles from everyone who heard it. 

You hadn’t meant to fall in love with Steve Rogers, but that is exactly what you did. 

“Ya know,” Bucky’s gravely voice started behind you, pulling your attention away from Steve and towards his friend. “If you're planning on telling him, I’d do it now.” 

You furrowed your brow at the brunette, a false confusion clouding your eyes. You shook your head, only pulling a scoff from his stubble framed lips. 

“Don’t play that with me. I see the way you look at him.” He smiled softly, watching as your eyes flicked back to the godlike man. 

Bucky was only trying to help. But in your case, you were just too late. You had your moment. Several if you were being honest. Steve deserved someone who wasn't afraid to tell him how they felt. Someone strong and brave. 

Someone like Peggy Carter. 

“I missed my chance.” You hummed, taking a sip from the bottle of stale beer in your hand. You grimised at the bitterness, the liquid courage doing nothing for your spirit. Only serving as a half assed reminder of what a coward you really were. 

How many times had those three words almost fallen from your mouth? How many moments passed- longing stares and lingering touches? Surely too many to keep count. But it didn't change the truth. 

He didn't love you, and he was leaving. 

“I think that he deserves to know what he’s leaving behind.” Bucky whispers against your ear, the words pulling at your heart. 

Only you and he knew the truth. Today was not a celebration of wins… It was a send off. 

“He deserves to be happy.” You choked out, your eyes meeting Steves from across the room, his softening when he was your hollow form. You faked a smile, though it didn't fool the Captain as he began to make his way over to you. 

“And what about you?” You snapped your head to meet Bucky, your eyes serious and tone stern. 

“Stop it. Please.” 

Bucky raised his hands in surrender, taking a step back as Steve approached you. His voice calling your name melted over you like honey in tea. So sweet, but always ready to burn if not careful. 

You met his gaze, his blue eyes sparkling down at you, inviting you in. You could drown in the oceans of his iris, in fact, you had on many occasions. Tonight was no exception. 

“Could I steal you away for a moment?” He asked, his voice cutting through your thoughts, coated in kindness. 

The moment his eyes met yours, you were a goner. A mess from the second he said your name. It was pathetic, but then again, isn’t that what you were? Doomed from the first day he walked into your life, taking up every thought in your head.

“Of course.” You tried to smile, forcing it on your quivering lips. You hoped Steve didn’t notice, and of course, he didn’t. He never noticed. If he had, perhaps you wouldn’t be in this mess.

Steve pulled you along, hand in hand as he led your outside into the night. Darkness acting as a veil covering your hurt. Part of you wanted to scream. Needed it. Though, it wouldn’t do much now. 

“Do you remember when we first met?” His question echoed around you, pulling you to the memory of your first encounter. 

Of course you remembered. It replayed in your head like a broken record every night. A thousand ‘what if’s’ swirling around the memory. 

The day he asked you to dance at one of Tony’s elaborate fundraisers for charity. He was like something out of a dream, the way he walked across that dance floor to you. The way his voice asked that daunting question. The way you swooned the moment his hands touched yours, pulling you in and spinning you around the room. 

It all felt so distant now. As if you had made the entire thing up in your head. 

Sometimes you wish you had.

“I remember you being a terrible dancer.” You joked, worrying on your bottom lip as Steve's laugh echoed around you. 

“See, that's the problem. I don’t have much practice and I owe a dame a dance.” His words were sincere and yet dripped in venom. They cut you deep, poison darting straight to your heart. 

“You want me to help you… Dance?” You tried not to let your face show how truly hollow you felt. 

You had to force yourself not to cringe away when he took your hand, pulling you gently against his chest. You could have died right there, drowned in your own self loathing, overcome with jealousy for a woman who, at this very moment, was nothing more than a tombstone. She was gone, nothing but a memory and still- Steve picked her. 

With a broken breath, you rested your hand on his shoulder, shivering at his touch. You should pull away, save yourself from the ache. But the way he held you- gently and with a foreign love you would never feel from Steve, your body stayed.  You had wondered what it would be like. Wrapped up in his arms, your name on his mouth, his lips on your throat. You had imagined it more times than you cared to admit. 

One dance couldn't hurt. 

You let him take the lead, swaying you slowly into the night. His hand on your waist, guiding you to a silent melody. 

“Ya know, there was a moment that I thought it might be us.” His words whispered against your neck, freezing you in time. You swore your veins turned to ice at the cruelty of his remark. All you could do was gape. 

Steve pulled away to look at you, watching your face turn pale and eyes fill with tears. 

“How could you- This is a bad idea. I can’t do this, Steve.” You choked out, horrified at how little your voice sounded. You hated how he made you feel, small and broken. If you were, it was only because he made you that way. 

“I didn't mean to-”

“Didn't you? I respect myself too much to beg you to stay. But what the fuck, Steve? How can you stand there, one foot out the door and tell me that?” You were shattered, hand over your heart as if it might fall out at any moment. “I’ve followed you around like you were the sun. I’d do anything for you. But I won’t watch you walk away. Not when all that’s waiting for you is a ghost. I love you too much, and it breaks my heart that you can’t even consider that I could… That I might…” 

“Y/n, baby, I’m so sorry. I just-” Your name fell from his lips like a plea, but you couldn't stand there and listen to him try to mend what was already so irreversibly broken.

“No- Just stop.” You blurted, turning away and pulling yourself from his grasp. “I’ve been second to her my whole life. I’m numb to it now. But don’t make excuses for your shitty decision. If you want to go, go.” With that, you pushed away from him, heading back to the party and away from the man who, come tomorrow, would be forever out of reach. 

The next morning you woke up, eyes burning from the tears shed the night before and chest heavy with guilt. 

Part of you knew there was a better way to say the things you did, but another part reveled in your cruelty. Basked in how dumbstruck Steve looked standing on the lawn. Maybe it was mean, but so was he. 

It wouldn't matter for long. The afternoon sun was creeping in and soon he would be gone. Nothing but a distorted memory of a man you used to love. But at least he knew. At least when he laid beside his consolation prize he would remember you. Maybe he would hurt. You cringed at the idea. 

No matter how much you wanted to hate Steve, your heart simply wouldn't allow it. That was the worst joke of all. You despised the man you loved. 

Buck: He’s waiting for you… 

You looked down at your phone on the bedside table, wiping away the tear that rolled down your cheek. You knew it was time. This was the moment that you had prepared for. But you made a promise last night- one you were far too petty to fall back on now. 

Though even still, as the seconds lulled by, guilt began to eat away at your brain and before you knew it you were half way out the door. Your feet dragged you down the hall, forcing you to confront the horrible truth. 

You knew he was gone before Bucky even spoke the words. His eyes filled with a sadness only you could know. Shoulders slumped as he struggled to hold his gaze. He shook his head, affirming your worst fears as Sam’s panicked voice broke through the tension. 

“Get him back here!” He shouted, his tone filled with dread. It was torture to watch, unberable to feel.

A loud crackle erupted through the air almost knocking you off your feet. Through the piercing white flash, you saw a figure. If you didn't know any better you would have thought-

There, in all of his glory, was Steve Rogers. Perfect and untouched. Like a statue carved from marble. 

All you could do was gape, hand over mouth as he stepped down the tarmac, a smile that could instill world peace plastered on his pink lips. Your whole body vibrated with nerves. Somewhere between anger and hope.

Your name fell from his lips, but you couldn't hear it over the hammering of your heart, your feet already carrying you across the field.  

“What the hell are you-” 

“It’s you, doll.” He beamed, his words only fueling a rage that was threatening to boil over the closer you got. “It’s always been you. I can't believe I didn't see it until-”

Your fist colliding with his stoney jaw cut him off before he could finish. You pushed against his, palms thrashing at his chest as he tried to fend you off. Of course, he could if he truly wanted to, you knew this. 

“Y/n, just listen to me.” He begged, holding your wrists tight as you went to take another hit. You tried to yank yourself away from him, but it was no use. “I was stupid, doll. A complete idiot and I didnt see what was right in front of me. Tell me it’s not too late. Tell me I still have a chance.” Steve's eyes brimmed with tears as your heart thundered in your chest. 

You could only blink, your mind racing between a thousand reasons to walk away. To close the chapter on your love with Steve for good. So why did you stay? As if it wasn't torture enough. As if he hadn't beaten your heart black and blue with his carelessness. You wanted to run, but amidst the broken shards of your heart was a naive girl desperate with hope. And so, with a half step, you closed the distance, taking the deadly plunge as your lips collided with his. 

Steve drank you in, his mouth moulding to yours the instant you met. His hands wrapping around your waist and pulling you in until you arched back against him. Nothing in the world could have prepared you for how completely and irrevocably intoxicating he was. His presence over you melting you into a puddle before him. 

Steve's tongue gently ran across your bottom lip pulling a gutteral shutter to wrack through your body. The taste of him permanently cemented into your mouth. It was the soft moan that escaped the back of his throat that finally did you in, buckling your knees as you held onto the soldier for dear life. 

It wasn't until Sam’s voice echoed around you that you finally pulled away from Steve. Your body’s untwining as the rest of the world came back into focus. 

“Does anyone want to tell me what the hell is going on? What is she talking about?” Sam shouted, pointing his finger at you exasperatingly. 

“I- I… I don't…”  Your words fell to the back of your throat, the memory of Steve’s lips ingrained in your skin. You couldn't think, much less form a coherent sentence as he looked down at you, that boyish grin plastered on his mouth. The way his eyes sparkled, tears filled with a longing you had seen many times, but never from him. 

“Were you not coming back?!” Sam blurted abruptly causing Steve to snap his head in the falcons direction. 

“No.” Steve spoke simply, his gaze returning to you. Eyes filled with an answer you had been wracking your brain for.  “I could never leave my best girl.” 

You scoffed, your gaze only leaving Steve’s for a moment. His words were kind, his lips intoxicating. But there was a nagging in your heart, pulling you from your dreamstate and back to reality. 

“Best girl, huh?” You signed, leaning into him as you chased his touch. “I think I’m going to need you to prove that, Rogers.” 

Steve chuckled, the low rumble vibrating through your chest. His smile seemed brighter than you’d ever seen, reassuring you that this was the only place he wanted to be. “For as long as I can, darling.” 

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Waking Comfort (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language, brief violence (in a flashback), implied/referenced trauma (unspecified) Warnings: N/A Summary: Unable to sleep on a cold day, Bela Dimitrescu tries to find comfort in her favorite servant... only to end up being the one doing the comforting. Notes: This is super self indulgent, because my dreams have been murdering me recently. Reader is a selective mute/partially nonverbal, implied neurodivergent (unspecified), gender neutral but written with a non-binary person in mind, with non-specific past trauma. Basically this is somewhat of a self-insert fic but I've smudged some lines to make it more relatable for other people.

----------------

In the early hours of the day, when the sun had yet to reach its peak, a cold quiet fell over Castle Dimitrescu. Most inhabitants were of a nocturnal persuasion, and lay sleeping soundly at this hour. Those few that thrived in the sun moved softly, with caution, daring not to awaken their masters. Oh, if only they knew that one Lady of the house was awake, prowling the corridors with marked intent. What a chill it would send down their spines- what lovely fear would permeate the household.

Ah, but that was not what Bela Dimitrescu desired, at least not for now. No, what she needed was something she would never admit out loud. It was a “base” need, one that all humans felt, and so she feared that it was beneath her. There was only one person that she could trust for this: A servant, experienced in all matters needed of them, level-headed, compassionate… and, most importantly, selectively mute.

Over the past year, Bela had found herself growing closer to you, much to her own surprise. The two of you had started to bond through reading, after you had helped her reorganize a mess in the library (left by none other than Lady Daniela). Since then, you had proven to be a valuable ally, always finding creative solutions to the family’s problems. From jury-rigging a set of climbing gear for repairs, to proof-reading all formal letters, there was hardly any part of Bela’s life that you hadn’t assisted with. All while only ever saying two or three sentences- short ones, at that.

Neither of you would ever forget the first (and only) time you spoke out loud. A would-be hunter had infiltrated the estate, through a damaged skylight (which you later repaired), intending to prove his worth by killing the nobility inside. By the time Bela arrived, after being notified by a terrified maiden, she found the situation had already been aptly handled. There you had stood, clutching an ornate, bloodied cane like a club. In front of you had been the unconscious hunter.

“You could have been hurt!” Bela had snapped, unable to stop herself, glad that her sisters hadn’t arrived yet. Then you had glanced at the man, then her, then back to the man. Something uncharacteristically dark had danced in your eyes.

“He said he was going to save me… from you. Called me defenseless,” you had snarled, poking the man with your cane as you did. “Rude.” Before Bela even had a chance to react, her sisters had appeared, disappointed to find the fight already over. They had fought over who would get to kill the hunter, and somewhere in that chaos you had slipped away without another word.

That day had replayed itself in Bela’s mind hundreds of times in her mind. Though she would not readily admit it, that had been the day that her casual affection for you had started to turn into something more serious. These days she didn’t even know how to describe your relationship- after all, you had never told her how you felt. But you had held her, closely, fingers running through her hair while she fought off memories from someone else’s life. Held her in your arms, as she held you, staving off the cold like it was all you had ever known.

This was what she wanted. Your touch, your comfort. All that stood in her way was a familiar question: Where were you? Master of your environment, schedule constantly in flux, you were rarely where anyone expected you to be, especially when you were prone to taking on whatever tasks others hadn’t had time to finish. So Bela searches, quickly, around places the day-shift tends to gather. She’s careful not to be seen, even though she knows the maidens aren’t likely to gossip where her family might hear. In the end she catches a hint of your scent near the servants’ quarters, and curses herself for not checking there sooner.

Your room is one of the only single-occupancy rooms in this wing. Only senior staff were allowed within these places, most of them rotating out as they “lost their usefulness”. The fact that you had slept in the same bed every night for six months was a testament to your skill. It’s the kind of thought that brings Bela some semblance of warmth in her chest. Still, the thought alone is not enough, so she slowly eases your door open.

Her ears strain against the silence, listening for the pattern of your breathing, or the telltale murmurs that would announce your awakening. Instead, the first things she hears are little gasps, then the shifting of fabric. Dreams of some sort have you turning and tossing, lungs getting hungry in their pursuit of air. It’s not immediately clear whether or not you are enjoying the dream. Were these good gasps, like those that Daniela often cooed about when she praised her maiden? Or were these the same kind that sometimes haunted Bela herself?...

A whimper cuts through the air, and suddenly Bela loses all patience. Practically running, she crosses the room in an instant, concern etched into her brow. One hand cautiously reaches for your blanket, pulling it back enough for her to slide in next to you. It’s a risk, one that could make you wake up with a panic, but it’s one she’s willing to take. After all, she had asked you about this sort of thing before. Though you couldn’t form full sentences, you had experience “miming” things, and Bela was quite clever with her “yes or no” questions.

When she carefully wraps an arm around your waist, she does so with confidence. Beneath her touch you stiffen, back going as tense as possible, but you stop shaking. A few more gasps leave you, and Bela wonders whether or not she should wake you up. Less than a minute later the decision is made for her. All the sudden your gasping turns to a sharp exclamation, body jerking hard, eyes snapping open. Tension coils through your muscles, driving your already overstimulated brain overboard.

Before Bela can even try to comfort you, you sit up, quickly turning so your legs dangle off the edge of the bed. Muffled sobs pass your lips as you hold your face in your hands. Memories struggle against each other behind your eyes, blocking out every other sensation. Your jaw is clenched, hard, and you struggle to breathe between shakes. A hand touches your back, but quickly moves when you flinch in response. It takes a minute for you to even process who else is with you. Once you do, some of the tension bleeds from your body.

“If you’d rather be alone right now, I understand,” Bela says, quietly, as soon as she thinks you’ll be able to understand her. For a moment you can’t bring yourself to respond, and you can feel her side of the mattress shifting, like she’s getting ready to leave. Panic springs up in your chest again, so you quickly reach a hand out in her direction. Thankfully she knows what to expect at this point, easily finding your hand in the dark, gently taking it within her own. “One squeeze for yes, two for no?”

You squeeze, once.

“Do you want me to hold you?” Bela asks, trying to hide the hopefulness in her voice. It makes you pause, considering, even though you’re still overwhelmed by your sensory inputs. In the end you squeeze her hand twice. “No worries, my dear. Don’t be tempted to push yourself just for my sake.” Somehow she always knew how to read you like an open book. Even with the… difficulty of communicating with you. Not that she had ever complained, or even thought about it. Knowing you, and caring for you, made any effort feel as easy as breathing.

A few minutes pass without another word being said. Sometimes Bela gives your hand a little squeeze, just to check in, and you always return it. Soon enough your brain starts to relax, loosening its vice-like grip on your motor controls. Once again you can ease the tension in your muscles. Then you find yourself rubbing your thumb against Bela’s hand, moving in soft circular motions, head turning so you can smile at her. Even if it’s too dark for you to see much, you know that her eyes see you just fine.

“Feeling any better?” She asks, donning a smile of her own. One squeeze. “Is there anything more I can do to help?” A pause, then one squeeze. Now that your limbs don’t feel as staticky, there’s only one thing on your mind: Cuddling. You’re moving before you know it, briefly letting go of Bela’s hand so you can get closer to her, pressing your face into her neck and giving her a soft kiss. Then you’re falling against the bed, on your side, looking up at your partner with a grin. It doesn’t take her long to get the message, shifting back onto her side so she can hold you for real this time. One of your hands goes to rest on her back, to serve as your translator for the rest of the night. “I love you,” Bela says, without even thinking.

She freezes up afterwards, realizing that this is the first time she’s ever said the words out loud to you. For a moment she’s scared, a feeling alien to her, but she refuses to back down. It pays off a few seconds later, incredibly so, when you return the words the best way you can: One squeeze.

[ererokii]

Line without a Hook || E. Jaeger & J. Kirstein

➳ Jean Kirsten x Fem Reader x Eren Jaeger

Word count: 4,517 Warnings: angst, fluff, unrequited love, cursing ➳ note: this is based off the song Line Without a Hook by Ricky Montgomery! I’ve been thinking this for a long time and I’m super excited by how it came out! Also big thanks to @reddriot​ for betaing!

➳ Synopsis: is love really worth it? Let me say, it’s not always worth it.

You can hold my hand if no one’s home.

Do you like it when I’m away?

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

It starts out simple really. A boy and a girl. Childhood friends, to be precise. Those two are inseparable. Nothing can tear the friends apart, besides their parents, of course. Like two peas in a pod. 

Jean says he knows you like the back of his hand. He truly means that. He knows your favorite boy bands from when you were younger, how many terrible phases you’ve gone through, favorite foods, and places. If he wrote a novel about the things you told him, he would be a renowned author. 

Since kindergarten to now, in the middle of your junior year, you and Jean have been side by side. You told him everything. From random vents and gossiping about the rude girls in your class to how horrible your period cramps were— even though Jean hated hearing about the last, he stuck through it for you.

Only you. 

The pavement that followed the street your house was on is memorable. Jean can recall the amount of times you’ve had races, chalk scribbles covering the grey that would be washed away by the angry neighbors. 

He listens to you as you talk about a kid getting in trouble in your Calculus class, watches how lively your motions are as you speak. Jean can’t help but smile when a laugh slips past your lips and you glance at him. There’s an unknown sparkle in his eyes, one filled with love. 

You haven’t changed one bit, he thinks as he faces back forward, shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. His mind begins to wander as you both continue down the pavement, part of your routine when school ends. 

Your houses are right next to each other. You’ve been with him since you were in diapers. He was there when your first tooth came out, congratulating you, and you were there for him when he finally learned to ride his bike with two wheels instead of three. 

The bubbly lovable five-year-old back then is the same as you are now. 

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Oh all my emotions

Feel like explosions when you are around

A sigh of disappointment leaves Jean’s lips when he listens to Connie talk about something he has learned over the weekend (something completely stupid— he just doesn’t care). Currently, the students are at lunch, the cafeteria full with loud shouts and random noises. 

“Connie, shut up,” Sasha groans, placing her water bottle on the table, wiping her crumbs off. “No one cares that you finally figured out how to stick a spoon to your nose.”

“What do you mean?! You were the one who showed me!”

The brunette gasps and looks over his way, cream cheeks tinted with an adorable shade of pink, pointing a finger at him. The bickering between the two commence as Jean listens, slightly amused. 

As much as he indulges in their argument, he can't help but wonder where you are. 

It’s not like you to skip lunch, especially without at least letting him know. Did you stay behind to talk to a friend? A teacher? Maybe you went to the bathroom.

But it’s at least 15 minutes in. 

“Sasha,” he speaks up, slicking back his hair. The sound of her name catches her attention, making her look at him. “Have you seen Y/N?”

“Y/N?” she asks in a whisper before her lips curl in a grin, already knowing why he asked. “Do you miss her?”

“Just answer my goddamn question!”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Connie asks, looking between his friends before stopping his gaze on Jean. “Why do you need Y/N?”

“Oh, you know! He lik-”

“Shut up!” Jean shouts, catching the attention of nearby students, his face heating up as his cheeks turn a darker pigment. “Just answer me!”

“If you must know,” she taunts him, twirling a strand of hair from her loose ponytail. “I saw her talking to someone in the hallway. Must be important, she’s been there for quite some time. Might want to be her knight in shining armor and saving her, huh?” she cocks her head to the side, staring at one of the windows in the room, watching as the branches of trees sway from the harsh winds. 

The atmosphere outside was cold, breezes rushing down on anyone who was not inside. The sun was hidden by the thick grey blankets filled with rainwater, waiting to shower the world. The temperature recently has been dropping, mid 50’s at least. The weather was a shock, to say the least. 

“I didn’t know Jean likes her!”

“What do you mean?!” Sasha gasps, turning her body to face her small-minded friend. “It’s only obvious! You must be really stupid then!”

“Well, how could you tell?!”

Before Jean has a chance to interrupt Sasha, she begins to rant. He prefers to stay silent, clasping his hands together in his lap as he lowers his head, finding interest in the marbled tiles of the floor his feet rest on. 

The words that slip past Sasha’s lips reach his ear and out the other. 

It’s easy to tell, Connie. Have you noticed the way he looks at her? Can’t you see the love in his eyes? The way he will actually go out of his way to help her with anything? Here you guys are, two close friends, I thought you would have known about his crush. I’m surprised you didn’t catch on every time he ditched plans with us to go hang out with her. He’s whipped, and you’re too stupid to know it. 

His cheeks turn a shade of pink as his eyes squeeze shut, her words replaying in his head like a broken record player. Each sentence is like a knife stabbing away at his brain, causing the slightest ache to form in his frontal region. 

She’s right. Anything she just said five minutes ago, is completely and utterly correct. 

He can still hear her talking about it to Connie, but he can only focus on three sentences that stick to him like glue. 

Have you noticed the way he looks at her? Can’t you see the love in his eyes? The way he will actually go out of his way to help her with anything?

Memories of him helping you in any possible way come to mind. He can’t recall how many times he has entered class two minutes late because you had so much to carry. 

He stares at you like you’re the only thing worth looking at. It reminds him of those cliche animated movies with hearts in the character's eyes. He’s blinded by his love for you, that he never noticed any signs that you don’t feel the same way about him. His heart races miles per hour when you’re around. Sometimes he worries for himself that maybe, his heart might explode within him. 

“Anyway, lunch has about 20 minutes left...where is she?” Connie mutters, scratching the top of his head.

“I don’t know, but,” Sasha grows quiet, listening to the ongoing thunder from the outside. The lights flicker for a second, a couple of yelps emitting from other students, slightly afraid that the power might go off while school is in session. “The storm is almost here.”

“Y/N!” Connie suddenly yells, pointing in the direction of the door, your body jogging closer to the table. “Where have you been?!”

“Sorry!” you laugh, out of breath as you drop your things on the bench, taking a seat beside Jean. “I got caught up in a conversation with someone! I guess I lost track of time for a bit.”

“I messaged you like four times,” Jean mutters, glancing over at you before looking at the table, playing with the plastic straw that he used to drink out of.

“You did?” you ask, pulling your phone out from your pocket, lips puckering when indeed he did so. “I’m sorry, Jean. I didn’t even feel my phone vibrate.”

“Oh, whatever, who cares! Eat! Or I’ll eat your food!” Sasha yells, pointing a finger at you, a smile gracing her features. 

You laugh along with her as you converse with your peers, the conversation you had replaying in the back of your mind. Jean chooses not to intervene, instead would rather listen. 

The roaring thunder plays in the background, everyone paying no mind to it. What he doesn’t know is that the storm is much closer than Jean could have thought. 

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Listen close, it’s a no

The wind is a pounding on my back

And I found hope in a heart attack

Oh at last, it is past

Now I’ve got it, and you can’t have it

Another evening, another study session, another day of bottling up his feelings until he can no longer hold them inside.

The storm made its way to shore, raining pouring down and even some hail; not what anyone was expecting. 

Jean mindlessly flips through the pages of his English book, not even paying attention to the words as he checks how many pages are in chapter five. 

“This seems pointless,” he adds with a sigh, tossing the book on your bed along with his highlighter he uses to annotate with. “I should just find a summary online or something, I don’t want to read this.”

“And why is that?” you ask, looking up from your book, placing the hardcover against your thighs. “Is it boring to you?”

“No,” he mutters, rolling onto his back. “It’s stupid. This love crap.”

“Well...it is a romance story, the teacher told us when we got the book. But why do you think it’s dumb?”

“He writes letters for her, and in the end, she ends up rejecting him. I don’t think that’s romantic.”

“And? It’s beautiful on his part,” you close your eyes as you stretch your arms over your head, letting out a grunt. “It’s the fact that he wrote to her every day. It’s like he poured his soul into every word. The words he uses are..literally everything. It makes me swoon over him, and he’s not real. Makes me wonder if someone would do that for me.”

Jean’s head perks up at your words, one of his eyebrows raised in curiosity when he notices the bashful look on your face, eyes averted to the comforter on your bed. “Why do you have that dopey look on your face?”

“Huh?!” your eyes are blown open as you look over at him. “What are you talking about?!”

“I’m talking about that, idiot,” he points at your face, watching your eyes cross faintly to stare at his finger. “You’re acting about that guy in the book.”

The patter of the rain is the only noise that fills the void called silence in your room. His warm eyes don’t leave your face at all, waiting for your answer. You’ve been acting weird ever since you were late to lunch this past week. 

He watches your mouth open as if you’ll say something but close it right away, like you were concealing anything you had to hide.

“...well? Y/N? Are you there?”

“Yeah!” you cough into your elbow, running a hand down your face. “I-- you can’t tell anyone.”

“You know I never tell anyone what we talk about.”

You’re silent, a bit too quiet than usual. You fiddle with your fingers before blurting the words that have been eating away at you. 

Jean’s heart stops for a moment, eyes wide in shock when he processes it. His blood runs cold as he’s unable to move, frozen like a statue. The signals in his brain begged him to respond, but he couldn’t. He could hear the faintest sound of bells ringing in his ears; all noise surrounding him was now drowned out by his thoughts. 

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds. 

“You like someone?” he asks in a whisper, barely audible to your ears, but you heard as you nod shyly, biting down on your lip. “Well... who is it?”

“That’s...I can’t say it.”

“Why can’t you?”

“I’m afraid to say it out loud because I don’t want to ruin my friendship with him.”

Friendship? That could be anyone at this point.

I have to figure out who, he thinks as he draws random patterns into the sheets. “Well, tell me about him then. Is he in our grade?” he asks.

“Yeah, he is. He’s in four of my classes.”

Jean was in four of your classes. Math, English, Foreign Language, and Science. 

“That’s it?”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Can I finish before you interrupt? Thank you.”

You pause momentarily before speaking again.

“He’s stubborn. I’ve noticed that his demeanor changes when it depends on who he is with. He seems like a hardass and looks like he doesn’t want to be bothered, but he seems like a total softie when he’s with people he loves. Not to mention he’s hot...and tall. He’s blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t bullshit at all. He’s really sweet as well, to me. He always goes out of his way to make sure I’m okay and how my day was. He just..he seems to care for me, and I feel the same way about him.”

Jean takes every word you say into consideration. He’s stubborn, it seems that he doesn’t like to be around people he doesn’t know but loves those he does know. He knows he’s hot. Practically every day he looks at himself in the mirror and thinks about how good he looks.

He’s blunt and straight to the point. He doesn’t bullshit at all. He’s really sweet as well, to me. He always goes out of his way to make sure I’m okay and how my day was. He just..he really seems to care for me, and I feel the same way about him.

Jean can feel his doubt and worry turn into happiness and confidence as you keep on ranting, to which he’s not fully paying attention anymore. He knows it's him. It has always been him.

No one else.

Jean likes you.

And you like Jean, that’s all there is to it. 

“Do you want to tell him?”

“Yeah...” you trail off, scratching the nape of your neck. “I want to tell him on Friday after school. Do you think he’ll like me back?”

“I think he would. How could he not? He would be a total idiot to reject you.”

You hum at his reassurance, placing your hand on his, squeezing gently.

“Thanks, Jean.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

Darling when I’m fast asleep

I've seen this person watching me

Saying, “Is it worth it? Is it worth it?”

Tell me, is it worth it?

Friday comes, and Jean can hardly wait for school to end. He’s not paying attention, his eyes constantly staring from the whiteboard in the front to the clock that tauntingly ticks slower than usual. 

He bites down on the pink end of his pencil in anticipation, tapping his foot repeatedly on the floor, the noise resonating through the classroom. 

Maybe I should just keep my eyes off the clock, he thinks, lowering his head back to the worksheet their teacher gave the class.

Econ class was a drag. He could care less about the differences in macro and microeconomics, the same with Communism and Capitalism. It’s just a bunch of words that don’t make sense to his brain. 

This was one of the classes he didn’t have with you, the last class. 

Instead of doing his worksheet (luckily, the teacher said it would be for homework if it wasn’t finished), Jean proceeded to think about ways he could tell you his feelings.

He could be old fashioned, tell you how much he adores you and how happy you make him feel when you’re around. How his heart can be heard from the outside of his body, how his hands got warm and clammy, maybe sweaty when he became too nervous.

Or

He could ask you out on a date. Take you somewhere, one of the places you’ve told him in the past that would make a great date for you. He smiles when he thinks about taking you downtown at night, looking at the soft lights that would brighten the streets; loving the sparkle in your orbs as you look around in awe. 

He hums, pleased with himself when he figures out what he’ll do, scratching the back of his ear. 

He wonders if you’re thinking the same thing.

-

You glance at your table partner, looking at his piece of paper before looking down at yours, displeased how his is able to look better than yours. You pick up your eraser, gently wiping the shadings away from your drawing, careful not to crease your paper.

“It’s not that hard you know, you just don’t know how to shade.”

“I know how to shade, Eren,” you reply with a huff, placing your eraser back down. “It’s just...this is a bit harder than usual.”

“All you have to do is follow the markings,” he presses the edge of his drawing pencil against the reference photo both of you are using, tracing the shape of it. “You could honestly just copy the photo, I doubt this woman would even notice.”

You chuckle at his choice of words, shifting in your seat to get comfortable. “I don’t think she would anyway. She just stares at it and calls it an A. I bet for our expressive project, she wouldn’t notice if we copied each other.”

He shakes his head with a smile, the loose strands of his hair swaying with his head movement. “No, she wouldn’t,” he rolls the sleeves of his hoodie to his elbows, grabbing his pencil again. “Then again, we are working on it with each other.”

“Speaking of that, what should we do?”

“Up to you, Y/N. I don’t mind. I’m just trying to pass this stupid class anyway.”

You relish in the silence between you as you gaze at him from your peripheral. You take notice how his hair frames his face effortlessly to the dip in his nose. It’s perfect how it forms to his cupid’s bow to his lips; not too big nor too small either. Just right. 

You clear your throat, scratching at the nape of your neck. “Why not do...stages of love?”

That catches his interest.

“Stages of love?” he asks, moving in his chair to face you, a hand propping his head up. “Elaborate?”

“Like you know...how we gain a crush on someone. We like how they make us feel, and soon we think about them some more. Maybe make little scenarios in our head. Then we gain the crush and want to be around them. You know what I mean, right?”

He’s silent, hues that represent the blue of rivers, boring into your own. At first, you think he hates your idea, but then the corner of his lips curls into his infamous grin. “Yeah, I like that. Did you have anything else in mind?”

“Maybe...rejection?”

“Rejection?” he repeats, a bit shocked at how romantic your words were, to something filled with sadness. “And why would you want to do rejection?”

“W-Well,” you stutter, unsure how you should put it. “Everyone always talks about the good in love but never the bad. And I think it could be done good, you know?”

He hums, scratching away at his chin before nodding. “Yeah, alright. That sounds oddly specific, but I like it. We can honestly get started soon, that way, we can finish faster and not worry about it.”

His smile throws you for a loop, your face heating up as you pick up your pencil, trying to distract yourself. 

“Say, Y/N?”

“Yes, Eren?” you reply a bit too quickly, cursing yourself out internally for sounding too desperate. 

“Can we talk?” his cheeks are a shade of pink, his eyes averted as he plays with one of the strings of his hood, reminding you how a child would distract themselves. The tips of his shoe nudge against yours, barely kicking gently.

“Aren’t we talking right now?”

“No, I mean after school.”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

And in my eyes, there is a tiny dancer

Watching over me, he’s singing, 

Jean storms out of his Econ class with a grin, hands gripping onto the straps of his backpack as he looks down one end of the hallway before going down the other direction. The art room was three classes down his. Usually, Jean will wait right there by the door for you since you take ages to finally leave the classroom. 

When Jean finally reaches the room, he sees that the doors are locked, and the lights inside are off.

Huh, that’s weird, you’re always one of the last to leave, nor are you ever this early. 

He stands there for a few more seconds, peering in through the small glass, and sees nothing before taking a step back and quickly continues to walk down the hall. His legs are quicker, going down the two flights of stairs. 

His eyes frantically search for the yellow shirt you wore, unable to find you anywhere. 

“Sasha!” he calls out once he reaches the end of the stairs, running towards the girl and their friend, who was at the lockers, pulling things she needed to take home for the weekend. 

The brunette looks over her shoulder, stopping her conversation with Connie as she shuts her locker. “Yeah, Jean?”

He pants, leaning on his knees before letting out a deep breath and standing straight up. “Have you seen Y/N?”

She ponders for a while before shaking her head, looking over at Connie, who shakes his head, shrugging. “We haven’t seen her since Art class.”

“You didn’t see where she went at all?”

The events before class ending play in her mind before she gasps, snapping her fingers, pointing up at Jean. “Yeah, I know where she went!”

“...are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to guess?!”

She mocks him for a second before pulling her phone out. “I could have seen her leave with Eren. I think they went to the bench in the back. You know the one I’m talking about?”

He’s taken aback for a moment before shaking his head, retaining the information. “Alright, thanks.”

Why would you even be with Eren right now? You never meet with him after-

“Are we still on for this weekend?!” Connie yells when Jean is making his way down the corridor.

“Yeah, we are!” Jean's voice travels through the air, reaching both of his friends, hands clammy as they’re shoved in the front pocket of his pants. 

The walk to the back courtyard was tiresome. His feet seemed to drag behind him, an aching feeling forming in his gut. Thoughts pounded against his skull repeatedly, trying to force him to stop. He wants to stop, but he has to go.

He has to tell you he loves you. 

He can’t help but smile when you describe the boy you like this week. In his mind and most certainly his heart, he was the king of the world sitting on his high horse as he screamed in victory, letting the whole world know that the person he likes, feels the same way about him. 

The fresh air from the outside meets his nostrils as he deeply inhales, allowing it to enter his body before exiting. The sun is the first thing he meets with as he exits the building, bringing a hand up to shield his eyes away from the harsh light. He mutters something under his breath as he looks around for a second. 

“She’s a,

She’s a lady and I’m just a boy”

His honey orbs finally stop on a bench where you and Eren are seated, that’s not too far away, but his body is hidden from your view. He lets out a sigh of relief, leaves crunching underneath his feet as he walks, not taking long strides, rather walking slow to rethink what he’ll say.

“Y/N, I’ve liked you for a long...no,” he mutters, stopping in his tracks as he looks down at the green grass and leaves, kicking away at them. “I’ve loved- no, that sounds a bit aggressive, goddammit,” he groans, tugging at the roots of his hairs. “Why is this so fucking hard?!” he growls underneath his breath, leaning against the brick wall. 

He never was anything else but honest with you. How could he say it?

What if this ruins your relationship?

...what if you liked Eren?

His breath hitches in his throat when realization dawns on him. His lips part, a soft exhale releasing from within him. His fingers curl around nothing, as if he was holding the air’s hand. The tips of his fingers shake, his whole body stiffening as he stares hard at nothing. 

How could he be so stupid?

It all made sense now. How you stayed behind during lunch that one time without saying anything; in the back of his mind that day, he knew that someone had to be a boy, maybe a girl. Even then, you would always let him know. 

Jean should have known from the beginning that you only saw him as a brother. 

His chest aches as his vision goes blurry, biting down on the inside of his lip to the point where he can taste the bitter metallic on his tongue. He squeezes his eyes shut before opening, wishing he hadn’t at that moment. 

He’s singing

“She’s a, she’s a lady and I am just a line without a hook.”

His heart breaks, stomach-dropping when he sees Eren’s hand brings you closer to his body, lips pressed up against yours; your hand placed on his cheek, cradling his face. Even from where he stands, he can sense the urgency in the kiss, how your bodies move together as one, how your fingers grip onto him like he’ll leave any moment. 

His lower lip quivers for a second, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, clearing his throat. Jean cranes his neck upward, looking at the sky, muttering the words, “Why him?” over and over like a mantra, no other words coming to mind. 

When he closes his eyes, all he can see is you. Not Eren, just you. Those moments where you laugh, cry, or stay silent, those are the moments that flash in his head.

Did he do something to you? Was it something he said?

Did you ever like him at all?

“It’s pointless,” he whispers, pushing himself off the brick wall, immediately making a beeline for the doors. He swallows harshly, legs moving faster than ever, wanting to get out of this hell hole called reality. 

Like every day, you’ll walk down the same pavement you’ve been walking on for years.

Only this time, he’s walking alone. 

Oh, and if I could take it all back

I swear that I would pull you from the tide. 

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

taglist: @sleepysnk @jaegerbomb20​ @reddriot​ @kkiimmberly​ @kingtamakimurder​ @tamasoft​ @byougen​ @spike-this-ass​ @crimsonbows-and-arrows​ @squidonmywall​ @thicmitten​ (message me to be apart of it!)

[the32ndbeat]

𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐣.𝐲𝐧 - [ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟛 ]

pairing: stalker!jaehyun x fem!reader ( ft twice’s tzuyu, loona’s haseul )

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, mentions of sexual harassment, mature themes, mentions of drugs, smoking, extreme views, misogyny, yandere themes

a/n: unedited! it’s been forever since I updated this but also considering if I should turn this into a tbz series at my tbz writing blog so we’ll see how this goes.

taglist: I don’t have one yet and I’m seeing how this does since I’m thinking whether I should convert it into a tbz series. Please do lemme know if you guys want to see this continued!

disclaimer: everything written here is FICTIONAL and I am in no way saying that the mentioned characters act like that irl!

masterlist  

(inspired by netflix’s you and the book of the same name by caroline kepnes)

The first thing that registers in my mind is how fucking loud this place is. Seriously, what is it with college parties and their inherent need to blast music loud enough to wake the entire neighbourhood within a five mile radius? Before I even step within the premises or even make it to the front yard, the whole fraternity house seemed to shake from the loudness of the bass-boosted music when viewed from a distance away. I even had to squint as I approach, the strings of fluorescent party lights draped all over the place glowing so brightly it almost hurt to look straight.

A few drunk college frat boys stumble past me, their hair sticky and messy with sweat and their breaths reeking of cheap alcohol. Their steps are wobbly and I can even see drool and remnants of vomit hanging at the corner of their mouths. My heart clenches with pure disgust and I grit my teeth as I watch them laugh out loud over nothing, their brains a pink, unintelligent mush in their skulls, probably rotted by endless drinking and fucking. All part of the college frat experience.

I wonder if they enjoy being a complete waste of space while wasting mummy and daddy’s money to put them through college.

I look away and ignore the growing irritation in me. This is the sort of party your friends wanted you to go with them to? I thought your friends were bad influences but scratch that, they’re fucking horrible. They taint you, taint your innocence and put you at risk around such dangerous men who do not deserve to be even a mile within your presence. As I walk closer, the house looks even more hideous up close.

It’s decorated in the worst way I’ve seen a house decorated. It’s as if someone threw a bunch of random fairy lights bought in the brightest, blinding neon colours that simply do not go together over a sloppy looking house and the front yard is littered with empty, red plastic cups and is that a discarded bra I see over there?

I tiptoe over the trash laying around on the grass and try to avoid the gyrating bodies of college students who clearly have no sense of rhythm. My skin feels grimy within just a few minutes of being here and I can’t wait to leave but there is no way I’m leaving when I know that you will be here. The thought of you being surrounded by such vermins makes me sick to the stomach and I want to get you out of here. The only place you should rightfully be, is at my place where there are no revolting men who only love to drink cheap alcohol, party till sunrise, get high off smoking a blunt, yell ‘turn up!’ every few minutes as if it’s muscle memory in their tiny, almost non-existent brains and do anything but be a productive member of society.

As I push through the double doors, the nauseating smell containing a mixture of intoxicating alcohol, smoke and cheap cologne almost knocks me backwards. My hand grips tighter to the wooden door and I force myself in. Inside, the house is dim but bright at the same time with disco and laser lights. A massive boombox and a pair of equally large loudspeakers sit at the corner of the room and some hip hop tune is being played while people dance and drink and smoke to their hearts’ delight. You’d never believe these kids were supposed to be the future.

Oh, how disappointed their parents must be.

A girl in skimpy shorts and a tube top looks at me with unadulterated want and beckoning in her eyes while staring at the varsity jacket I’m wearing, no doubt replaying fantasies of fucking a college athlete in her mind and trying to guess which sport I supposedly play. I gaze blankly at them before turning away and I can see her shift from the corner of my eye, obviously bothered by the lack of attention. It’s like I can almost see the gears whirring in her brain. Did she not show enough cleavage? Is more skin needed to get my attention? Sometimes people are so predictable and readable that it’s almost pathetic.

Other times, I might have lowered my standards and settled for a casual fuck with someone like that but not today. Today, I’m a man on a mission. A mission to look out for you.

My eyes scan the room but it’s too dim to see anything within four feet in any direction. The flashing lights threaten to overwhelm me along with the stink of the place and booming music and I can feel my annoyance evolving into anger. I repress the urge to slap the shit out of a guy in a red bandana who screams ‘turn up’ all of sudden, practically effectively bursting my eardrums.

I almost bump into a couple eating each other’s faces out when someone yells out at me.

“Hey, you!”

The music is so loud that I almost don’t hear it. I whip around and sure enough, it’s tube top girl making her way over to me. You have got to be fucking kidding me. Not only do I have to find and save you from this sleazy place and have to squeeze in with a crowd of sweaty, brainless college kids who know nothing but party in a tiny, dirty, smelly frat house but now I also have tube top girl hot on my heels?

The things I do for you, y/n and we haven’t even properly gotten to know each other yet.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Tube top girl smiles and up close, I can see that her mascara is smudged and her hair is slicked back with an unholy amount of gel into a tight little bun which only makes her face look wider and her forehead exposed with a sheen of sweat covering it. Her lipstick is reapplied and I know for a fact that she has done it to impress me. Her top is also inched a little lower, as if that makes her anymore appealing.

I smile in a dismissive way, in a way that showed that I cared, but not really.

“Hey,” I reply flippantly.

“Crazy party huh?” She grins, satisfied that she’s got my attention now. Women.

I let my eyes drift to her breasts and look back up at her expectant, puppy dog eyes that are so eager to please it’s actually embarrassing.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your name? I’m Meg.”

“I’m Jaehyun.”

“You part of any sports team in school?” And just like that I know that tube top girl must have had fantasies of fucking a college athlete.

So predictable.

“Yeah, I’m on the swim team.” I say and her smile widens, a playfulness in her eyes as she leans her chest in closer in what was meant to be a sexy gesture.

“Oh, is that so? I’ve never really talked to a competitive swimmer before,” she replies in a sultry voice and I smirk.

“Well, here I am. Am I every bit of the guy you imagined a college swimmer to be?” I whisper in an equally sultry voice. Let her think she has me wrapped around her finger. It’s easier that way. Better for her to think I’m enthralled with her and her breasts than let her cling onto me the entire night.

“Mhm,” she says, “of course.”

I’m about to reply when something catches my eye. From the window, I see you and your friends stumbling and swaying down the sidewalk, away from the party. Internally, I feel my rage simmering again but not at anyone. At myself.

How was I so late that I didn’t manage to stop this from happening? How are you already drunk? How did this happen?

A million questions are racing through my mind and my vision almost blurs with white hot anger as I imagine a slimy frat guy placing his greasy hands on you while you sit there, drunk and uninhibited in that dress that seemed to accentuate your every single curve. You look simply gorgeous in that dress and I fucking hate to think that other guys in this whole house may have made a pass at you. Why was I so late? Would I have been just a little bit earlier if tube top Meg didn’t stop me? I should have left the moment she decided to strike up conversation. This is my karma for letting other temptations get in the way. I vow to myself that this will never happen again as I extricate myself away from Meg’s clutches (“Hey! Where are you going?” She calls out and I ignore her).

I shove people out of the way and do not care for their protests and yelps. Fuck them and fuck this entire shithole of a house. I scramble through the door and maintain my distance as I follow you and your friends down the pavement and past the buildings within the campus. I watch and cringe as you seem to crumple under the weight of your friends’ arm and quickly realise that you aren’t drunk. Your friends are. Stupidly drunk.

I feel my heart relax and my stomach unclench. Of course, you wouldn’t be. You are good. And smart. Too smart to get drunk in a place like that. You know what are the risks and you are above such parties. Your friends though, I couldn’t say the same. Which brings me back to why you need better friends but that’s besides the point. I can see a few guys hanging at the other side of the street who leer at the group of you, clearly getting their dick hard at the thought of a group of vulnerable girls roaming these empty streets at night.

It’s dangerous. But that’s what I’m here for. They see me next and they look away.

I will do what I can to protect you, y/n. Even if that means protecting your good for nothing friends in the process.

All of a sudden, I see you trip and it’s like everything is in slow motion. You fall forward and I take long strides over, my legs stretching out and rushing to help you. Before your knees can hit the rough ground, I have you in my arms, encircled around your waist as I hold you up. I have your other friend, Haseul upright with my other hand tugging at the collar of her jacket. Your friend Tzuyu is not so fortunate and falls flat but she barely notices it, smiling tipsily to herself instead.

You glance up at me with those large eyes and I could get lost in them right there and then. But as quickly as we have our moment, you move away and I see a hint of suspicion in your eyes. We separate and the moment you extract yourself from my arms, I already want you back. Your touch feels addictive already. What have you done to me?

“Thanks.” You say curtly and I admire the fact that you have boundaries, not like Meg. You are hard to get and that’s what makes you so appealing. You are to be earned and respected.

You help Tzuyu to her feet and as you turn to leave with your friends, I call out, “is there any way I can help?”

You regard me with caution and open your mouth to reject me but then suddenly, the tenseness in your eyes relax.

“Do I know you?”

You remember me. Halle-fucking-lujah! I want to wrap you in my arms again but I play it cool.

“I… don’t…?”

Your eyes grow wide and the recognition seeps in.

“Wait! You’re from that hardware store right? Jaehyun?”

I pretend to be surprised when I’m actually fucking overjoyed.

“Yeah, wait… You’re that girl with the rope right?”

You laugh and it’s the most melodious thing I’ve ever heard in forever.

“Yup, that’s me. Kind of mortified that’s how you remember me but sure,” you say and your eyes twinkle but then you continue with a more subdued tone, “what are you doing here?”

I pat my chest good-naturedly.

“Friend of mine is a student here. I just came over to visit and he gave me his varsity jacket so I could try feeling like a college student for once. Never been to college so… yeah. I thought I’d like to try it out for fun.” I reply and shoot you an awkward smile, the kind you do when you try to get someone to favour you and think of you as ‘adorable’.

It works and you smile gently.

“That’s pretty cool, you’ve got a good friend.”

And you haven’t, I think but don’t say.

I gesture towards you and your friends.

“Need any help?”

You look at your drunken friends and back at me and I sense you thinking. Finally, you decide that you do need my help and chuckle, “We live right at that block over there and I think I might die halfway there. I’m not fit enough to hold 2 people.”

That’s so like you. So compassionate over friends who clearly didn’t give a shit that you didn’t want to go to some god forsaken party, so caring over friends who get drunk and don’t take responsibility, so helpful to take care of friends who literally do not give a fuck about you. You are not beautiful on the outside but on the inside too and as I loop Tzuyu’s arm over my neck and hold her, I wish I was holding you instead.

We amble over to the front of your block and we part, you thank me and we say our goodbyes and it’s all too soon. I want to be with you for longer, I want us to talk and I want you to invite me to your room but reality is often much less exciting and more boring.

“I’ll see you!” You call out, smiling as I walk away and I wave back, my heart soaring.

Today is a good day, I think and as I round the corner to the next street, I slip the keycard out of my pocket and feel the hard plastic under my finger.

Wasn’t difficult honestly. Your friends should really learn to keep their valuables in safe places, not the back pocket of their jeans.

[blonde-in-charge]

Wildcard, Chapter Three

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Steve Rogers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve.

Characters: Bucky x reader, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Random Hydra guy, Sam Wilson

Warnings:  Mentions of blood/violence, brief unwanted touching, Cursing, Fluffy!Bucky, Flirting

Words: 2.6k

The table underneath you was frozen from the amount of stress you had been under. They just kept injecting things into you, hoping to get some kind of reaction from your body. You had stopped feeling the pain of the needle and experiments weeks ago, which just made everything worse for you in the long run. They were getting annoyed with the fact you had stopped reacting to whatever painful serum they had injected you with that day and it resulted in beating to get a reaction from you. You stared up at the cracked ceiling of your concrete room and counted each crack for the millionth time. You kept yourself company in your mind, getting lost in your thoughts to pass the time until your next beating. You shivered at the cold beneath you, the last serum made ice bleed from every one of your pores. You heard the shrill sound of the old iron door open from the side of the room, you didnt turn your head to see whoever came in anymore, they were all the same type of evil. 

“Your wounds have healed very quickly, you are replicating the progress of our last soldier.” said the thick voice. You hated to think someone else had gone through this hell before you had. You wondered if they escaped or died before they moved onto you. 

You felt a burn in the back of your throat, “What's on the menu today doc? Electro-therapy? Waterboarding? New superhuman power that causes injury to one of your minions?” The one fond memory in your head of this place, being your body set itself on fire as well as one of the more hostile minions of Hydra. You smirked fondly at the memory as the hydra doctor worked his way around you observing the healing process. Every wound that opened on your body disappeared within a couple of hours, which is apparently what they wanted. 

“Nothing on the menu today, we are going to start to prepare you for the memory wipe.” Was all the man said and you felt your heart jump into your throat as the man chuckled, “You will do great things for us, American Girl.” You started pulling at your restraints for the first time in weeks, trying to fight your way off of the table once again. The man gave you a sickening chuckle while watching you struggle and you glared at him. He reached up to run a dirty hand slowly up your leg, “Such a pretty girl, such a shame you must-” He ended his sentence abruptly as you lit your body on fire, burning the man's flesh. You grinned at him as your body started to fizzle out. He held his burnt hand to his body and looked at you with rage, “You stupid slut.” 

You continued to grin as he left the room, feeling somewhat accomplished. Your smile slowly faded as you thought back on the memories they would take from you. Y/N Y/L/N, you were a successful accountant in one of the most successful banks in Manhattan. You lived alone, you haven't spoken to your family since you lost your father. Your mom became an alcoholic after his death, the only thing you really regretted was leaving your little sister, Macy, behind. Your job would have already replaced you by now, and people would have stopped looking for you. You stopped fighting for an escape because you knew you had nothing to go back to. 

-

You woke up slowly to the sound of soft snoring, your body tensed up, wondering who was in your bed. Then you realized this wasn't your bed when you looked up into the face of the sleeping soldier. Your body instantly relaxed as you lay your head back on his chest. His right arm was slung over your waist and his metal arm was holding your forearm against his stomach gently. You closed your eyes, replaying the events of the night before in your head. Hydra had come back for you, but for what reason? Then your eyes snapped open and you looked up at Bucky gently shaking him. He opened his eyes slowly and looked down at you, obviously confused about why he was holding you. Realization dawned on him and his eyes filled with concern, “You okay?” 

“Y/L/N.” Was all you said to him as you continued to stare into his steel eyes.

“Who is that?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

“I remembered my last name.” You said softly to him, “I remember my life before I was taken.”

He sat up quickly and looked into your eyes, “You remember now?” You nodded your head at him, unsure whether you should smile or cry. “Y/N, that's amazing.”

You looked away from him and sat back, “Is it?” you replied solemnly.

“Why wouldn't it be?” He tilted his head slightly, trying to read your thoughts. The sound of the door sliding open cut off your response as Steve came in. Steve stopped in the doorway and examined the scene in front of him. You were sitting to the side of Bucky, wearing his shirt with no pants on, with your legs strung across his thighs. Bucky had his metal hand resting against your calf and was leaning back against the headboard behind him. Bucky’s face turned a dark pink as he realized the situation before taking his hand off of your leg. You remained unphased as you looked over at Steve. 

Steve watched you both and cleared his throat, “The safe house is all set up, can you both be ready by 0300?” You nodded at Steve, who glanced back at Bucky before leaving the room.

You both sat in silence for a moment before you crawled over bucky to the other side of the bed, his eyes perked up as he watched you unmoving, “Where are you going?”

“I have to pack my bag, don’t I?” You stood up and raised your arms above your head to stretch out your back. 

Bucky started to climb out of the bed himself before he stood next to you, “I’ll go with you.” You laughed softly and chose to not object to his company. He followed you down the hallway to your room and you stopped in the doorway to survey the damage. Your bed hung off the side of the bed frame as if the mattress had been thrown. The drawers in your dresser were all thrown open and all of the clothes were spread around the room on the floor. You sighed quietly and started picking up articles of clothing. You searched around for the SHIELD duffle bag you had before shoving clothes into it. Bucky’s eyes raked across the room, he walked towards the bed and adjusted it to its correct position before picking up shirts and folding them neatly into the bed. You smiled slightly to yourself as you found a pair of leggings on the ground and started pulling them on and up over your thighs. You struggled slightly and then looked up to see Bucky staring at you. 

He stilled, realizing he had been caught and looked down at the tee shirt in his hands, “Sorry, guess I got distracted.”

You laughed softly and patted him on the arm, “It's okay Buck, it's not like I don't stare at you sometimes.” You were unashamed of the confession. Sometimes while training you'll watch Bucky in the gym and sometimes, if you're lucky, you'll be able to see him lift his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face. You would never apologize for that.

Bucky looked utterly confused as you packed the last of your things and zipped up your bag, throwing it over your shoulder. He stood up with you and looked down at you. You weren't a short person, you were taller than most girls but still shorter than all of the male avengers so you barely had to crane your neck up at him. His steel blue eyes looked so much lighter in the moment. You turned away from him and started walking towards the door, looking back at him. “Ready?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, go meet with Steve, let me grab my bag.” You nodded at Bucky as you walked into the living area, ignoring the shattered glass on the floor you followed the voices to the kitchen.

“So she just hopped up on this man's shoulders and took him down like that?” Sam snapped his fingers together to get the point across, “Did Natatsha teach her that?”

Tony shook his head and bit the fingernail of his thumb, replaying the 30 second hallway footage from the night before, “Natasha hasn't moved past the basics of fighting with her, we have been focusing on figuring out what she can do power wise.” Steve stood silently with the three, his arms crossed watching the looped video. 

Sam shook his head at the screen, “This chick is a total wildcard.”

You dropped your bag on the ground behind them making them all turn around quickly. You stared at the projection in front of you, you barely recognized yourself. You have never been able to put Sam on his ass in the ring and now you're swinging your body weight around on some random guy? The temperature dropped a couple of degrees in the room as a result of your anxiety. The three men stared at you as you took a step back, you made eye contact with Steve, “Y/L/N.”

Steve looked confused, “What? Who’s name is that?”

“Mine.” You said quietly, “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I had a dream about it. I know my name.”

-

You sat at the table along with Steve and Sam. You were staring off at a wall while shoveling cereal into your mouth. You had only been at the tower for about two weeks now and had a good routine with the two men in front of you. You still didn't have a name. You have been going by kid, kiddo, chick, and rescue. You have been searching your brain for a hint of what your name would be. You tried making up names but none of them suited you the way you wanted it to. You listened to the two men bicker over different work out strategies. You stared off at the wall and thought about how you planned on changing your hair color to maybe platinum blonde. You reached out to grab your glass off the table and grunted when it wouldn't budge. You looked up at the two men staring at you with wide eyes before following their gaze to your hand. The liquid in the glass was frozen solid and the glass stuck to the table in a block. You removed your hand and looked at your palm, which was tinted blue, “Well that's new.” 

Sam tapped on your frozen glass, “Holy shit, Elsa.” You rolled your eyes and rubbed your hands together trying to maintain heat.

Steve watched you, “Has this ever happened before?”

You shook your head and reached out to grab your glass again. Your strength became too much and the frozen glass shattered in your hand. You remained still as Sam hopped up from the table. 

“Jesus fucking christ, kid.” Sam started picking up the larger pieces of glass

“Language.” Steve went into the other room to retrieve a handheld vacuum 

You looked down at your hand and saw little cuts leaking blood in the palm, today just wasn't your day. You stood up from the table and walked over to the sink, running your hand under the water. You were getting really sick of this superpower thing. You have broken so many things so far due to the super strength you can’t control. You sighed as you watched the small cuts on your hand knit themselves back together, you would never get used to that. On the brightside, it didn't hurt. You have not felt the pain of anything you have broken or ran into, the only pain you ever felt was the headache that never went away. You dried your hand off and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Sorry guys… Still getting used to,” You held up your hands, “this.” 

Steve smiled knowingly, “It's okay, kid. I remember when I received my serum, it took a minute to adjust.”  

You gave him a small smile, “Why do you guys keep calling me kid?”

Sam and Steve looked at each other. Sam was the one who spoke first, “You don't really have a name right now.”

“Oh it's Y/N.” You shrugged at the guys and returned to your seat at the table as they stared at you. 

“Did that just come to you?” Steve asked while looking at your seated figure, “It kind of suits you.”

“I think it's my name? It just came to me at the sink and its the only name that doesnt make me want to kill myself.” You smiled as the two men started chuckling at you. 

“I think I will stick to ridiculous nicknames if you don't mind.” Sam said, smiling at you and ruffling your hair. 

-

Tony wasted no time typing your name into the database to pull up a missing persons profile. A photo was pulled up onto the hologram screen and you silently stared at it. It was you, well at least a version of you. You looked so young, your face was effortlessly smooth with a light layer of makeup, and your mouth was pulled in an easy grin. Your hair was pulled back in a sleek low ponytail and you were wearing a white collared shirt with a blazer layered over it. You started into your eyes on the projection, it felt like looking at someone else. 

“You were an accountant? That's boring.” Sam started while eye the photo of you

Tony scanned the photo and then started typing something into the projection. An article pulled up next to the photo, “Y/N Y/L/N, missing for two years, stopped coming into work and her apartment was empty… blah blah blah.” 

“Tony.” Steve warned, coming to put a hand on your shoulder. You looked back at him before shaking off his hand and picking up your bag.

“We should go, right?” You ignored the look Steve gave you before you walked to Bucky’s room, knocking on the mangled door

Bucky met you at the threshold of the door, sensing your discomfort, “You okay, doll?” He raised an eyebrow at you

You raised your own eyebrow, “Doll?” Heat rushed to Bucky's cheeks and you smirked at him, “Grab your bag Buck, it's time to go.” You winked at him and turned away to walk to the elevator door. You rested your nag on the ground as you waited for Steve and Bucky to join you. You leaned back against the wall and sighed loudly, your headache returning.

The two men walked together side by side to meet up with you. Steve pressed the elevator button and debriefed you both about the agents who would escort you to the safe house. You and Bucky both nodded in understanding before stepping onto the elevator. Steve made eye contact with you before the doors completely shut.

“Be safe, kiddo.” You smiled at his words as the doors shut completely.