#anyway when I gif I try n find a still of the person to colour so i can see how it responds to everything. uh every time I gif matthew I

[subbanator]

Oilers v Flames ... 17.08.18

[goldengalore]

Intimacy

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Y/N hasn’t been intimate with someone in a long time, which makes her nervous about having sex with Harry for the first time.

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: anxiety, smut (featuring soft dom!harry, fingering, thigh riding, oral - m receiving)

A/N: This is one last idea (for now) that I had for the anxious!reader universe. Lots of smut, but it’s very soft and sweet and full of love :)

***

His hands. Y/N can’t stop staring at his hands.

There are a lot of things she finds attractive about Harry. Too many. It’s actually maddening how one person can have so many attractive qualities. Lately, her brain has decided to fixate on his hands. They’re pretty and elegant, strong and masculine.

His long fingers are often decorated with an ornate collection of rings. Sometimes his nails are painted with vibrant colours; other times, they’re unpainted but still clean and neatly trimmed. She can often see the veins that travel up the backs of his hands into his toned arms. He moisturizes them well too, so they rarely look dry.

Y/N would be lying if she said her obsession with Harry’s hands is completely innocent and merely about aesthetics, that she hasn’t imagined how those fingers would feel in her mouth or between her legs and orgasmed to the thought of that while lying alone in bed at night.

It doesn’t help that he’s a highly affectionate person, finding any excuse to place his hands on her whenever she’s within reach. Even now, as they lounge on his couch, he pulls her legs into his lap and begins massaging them. She’s wearing a knee-length dress today, leaving her lower legs exposed. His hands don’t move up past her knees, but that doesn’t stop her imagination from running wild anyway.

“Y/N?” His smooth, commanding voice—another annoyingly attractive feature of his—pulls her from her thoughts.

“Hmm?” Her eyes flick up to his emerald ones staring back at her. She realizes with embarrassment that she hasn’t listened to a thing he’s said in the past minute or so.

“What were you staring at?” He glances down in his lap, where her gaze was just a few seconds ago.

“Oh, just your hands.”

His brows furrow slightly as he starts inspecting his hands, turning his palms up, then down. “Why? Something wrong with them?”

“No! No, they’re just… nice. Nice hands. That’s all. Sorry, what, um, what were you saying?”

A teasing smirk forms on his lips. “Nice hands, huh? Never heard that one before.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. “Please. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times.”

“Mmm, not really.”

She narrows her eyes at him, not believing him for a second. His smirk broadens.

“Anyway,” he says, resting his hands back on her legs, “I was just saying that I really missed you last week.”

Now she feels even worse about zoning out on him. He’s been out of town this past week for work. They reunited just this morning after his flight landed back in LA.

“I missed you too, H.”

“This week made me realize something.”

Her heart skips a beat. “What?”

“Made me realize how much I hate being away from you. I know our friendship started over Zoom meetings and phone calls and whatnot since I was on tour, but…” He shrugs. “After spending time with you in person these past couple months, I can’t imagine being away from you for weeks or months at a time. I think I’d go mad.”

His confession feels like being swaddled in a warm blanket. While he was away, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about him. His fluffy hair and dimpled smile, his kind eyes and boyish laugh, even his cute nose consumed her thoughts from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she fell asleep at night. She found herself cursing the slow passage of time frequently throughout the week. To hear that her feelings were reciprocated makes her giddy inside.

When she takes a while to respond, he says, “I hope that wasn’t too intense. It’s just been on my mind lately and I had to say it.”

“No, I feel the same way.” I think I’m in love with you, she says in her head but struggles to speak aloud. She has never been the first to say those words in a relationship.

He smiles, relieved. “Okay, good.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, then shifts closer, her legs still strewn across his lap. His hand comes up to cradle her jaw as he leans in for a kiss, sucking her top lip into his mouth.

She scoots even closer, practically sitting in his lap now. The movement causes her dress to ride up. Harry rests his other hand on her bare thigh, squeezing it lightly. Her heart quickens. His hand inches along her inner thigh, hiking her dress up even further. Suddenly, her whole body tenses up and she shrinks away from his touch.

“Sorry, I—I can’t,” she stammers, quickly removing her legs from his lap and tugging her dress back down.

She sneaks a glance at his face and detects some hurt there. It lasts for a split second, but her brain registers it anyway. She feels awful. This is the second time he has tried to get intimate with her beyond just kissing. The first was the night before he was supposed to fly out of the city. They were cuddling in his bed. She was giving him all the signs that she wanted to take things further—letting her hands roam all over his body, grinding her hips against him—but as soon as he started returning her touches, she pulled away.

It’s frustrating because she fantasizes about it all the time, yet when it finally starts to happen, she freezes up. It’s like her mind and body are on completely different pages.

“I’m sorry, H,” she repeats.

“It’s all right.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “You’re not ready for that. I understand.”

“But I am ready. I just…” She looks up at the ceiling as if the answers to her puzzling emotions will be there. “Ugh! I don’t know.”

A long silence stretches between them, though it probably feels longer in her head than it is in reality.

“I should go,” she finally says, rising to her feet, but he grabs her hand before she can go anywhere.

“Already? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“But I made things awkward!”

“No, you didn’t. Stop that.”

She was trying to avoid his gaze, but he tugs on her hand to make her look at him.

“We’ve been apart for a whole week. You think I’m letting you run off that easily?” He frowns a bit. “Wait, that sounded creepier than I’d intended.”

She giggles, feeling somewhat lighter. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay.”

They order sushi for dinner and crack open a bottle of wine. The awkwardness she felt earlier fades as Harry starts telling her about a deep conversation he shared with the five-year-old girl sitting next to him on his flight. Y/N is glad she decided to stay because if she had gone home to spend the night by herself, her overthinking mind would have eaten her alive.

After dinner, they transfer back over to the couch with their wineglasses in hand. They sit cross-legged, facing each other. The wine has helped her loosen up some more, granting her the courage to explain why she’s been so reluctant to get intimate with him.

“I’m not a virgin,” she tells him. “I know it probably seems that way because of how I act every time we try to do anything sexual, but I’m not. Not that there’s anything wrong with being one, obviously. I just thought you should know.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Although he doesn’t press any further, his eyes are curious and attentive in a way that makes her want to spill everything, just lay out all her secrets and fears and insecurities in a big, messy pile in front of him.

“I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t had sex in years,” she explains. “And I’ve always had to have a few drinks before doing it. I tried doing it sober once, and it was a total disaster. I was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, and the guy didn’t know what to do. I just told him to keep going, so he did until he finished and—”

“Lovie, that’s not okay,” he interjects, brows pinching together in concern. “He should’ve stopped when he realized you were having a panic attack.”

“Well, to be fair, I told him to keep going. It was totally consensual.”

“Still. He should’ve at least stopped to make sure you were all right. Seems like basic human decency to me.”

“I guess....” She shrugs, knowing that he’s right but not wanting to think about it much longer. “Anyway, after he finished, he told me that having sex with me was like fucking a scared baby deer.” She forces a laugh, though the memory still makes her cringe inside. “Needless to say, I was mortified and never saw him again. And that’s the only time I’ve had sex while sober.”

“And all the times you weren’t sober, did you at least enjoy it?”

She hesitates. “Um, define enjoy.”

He appears even more concerned now. “If you’re having to ask that question, I’m afraid the answer is no. If you enjoyed it, you would know.”

“Well, I just asked because if by ‘enjoy,’ you mean ‘did I orgasm during it,’ then it’s a no. But my anxiety was a lot more under control, so I guess that could be considered a form of enjoyment… Right?”

Rather than answering her question, he asks, “You’ve never orgasmed during sex?”

She shakes her head. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but her cheeks still feel like they’re on fire.

“Have you ever had an orgasm?”

“Oh, plenty. When I’m alone, that is.”

“I see.” He rubs his jaw and looks away, sinking deep into thought. She can’t read the expression on his face.

“So, now you know how bad I am at sex,” she jokes to fill the silence.

He looks at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know about that. If anything, it’s the guys you’ve been with who were bad at sex if they couldn’t even make you come once.”

“Oh no, they were all very experienced.” Y/N doesn’t know why she’s defending these men, as if they would do the same for her. Perhaps it’s because she’s spent her whole life thinking she was the problem and this is the first time someone has suggested a different perspective to the one she’s become so accustomed to.

“Experience doesn’t always equate to being good at something.”

“I guess not.” She bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I do want to try again… with you. I just don’t know how to stay calm without having a few drinks in my system.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to work on that.”

His use of the word “we” doesn’t go unnoticed by her. We, as in this is our problem, not just yours. We, as in we’ll figure this out together, you don’t have to do it alone. She feels a surge of something in her chest, and the only term she can think of to describe it is love.

“I’m calm right now,” she says with sudden realization, placing her wineglass on the table so quickly that it almost topples over. “So, technically, we could try again—”

“No.” He shakes his head. “We’re not having sex for the first time while you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk drunk though. Just a bit tipsy. I think we could still—”

“Y/N, it’s not happening,” he states firmly. “Other guys might have been okay with that sort of thing, but I’m not, okay?”

Her shoulders slump. She looks down in her lap. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to know that I want it as much as you do.”

“I know. Hey”—he tilts up her chin—“we’ll get there. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

He has no idea how much of a relief it is to hear those words. Her biggest fear this whole time has been him losing interest in her because she can’t seem to get over her anxiety around sex. It’s happened before. Guys often expect her anxiety to disappear after the first time. When it doesn’t, they take it as a blow to their ego and react by making her feel like a freak for being anxious at all. The humiliation leads to even worse anxiety the next time she gets intimate with someone. It’s a vicious cycle.

She doesn’t want to get her hopes up or anything, but maybe that cycle finally ends with Harry.

***

When it comes to Y/N, Harry just doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. Even before they met in person, he would dream of the day he could finally have her in his arms, how perfectly their bodies would mold together, how electrifying that first contact would be. For months, he’s been dying to touch and feel and kiss every inch of her, but after hearing about her sexual history, it’s no surprise why she’s so hesitant to take that step with him.

Taking things slow is not a problem for Harry. If anything, he feels lucky to be the one who gets to show her how fun and exciting and stress-relieving sex can be when the people involved actually care about each other’s pleasure.

It’s been a few days since that initial conversation. They’ve had several more discussions about it since then, and he thinks they’re ready to try something now.

He stares at Y/N lying on his bed, looking cute and cozy in his forest green Pleasing crewneck. Her lips are swollen from all their making out, her neck and collarbone littered with red spots where he licked and sucked on her skin like an ice cream cone.

“Question for you,” he says, leaning his head on his palm. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

“Hmm… A couple days ago?”

“Would you feel comfortable doing that in front of me?”

Her eyes widen. “Y—you want to watch me touch myself?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.” Her reaction already indicates that she’s not.

“Oh, I… I don’t think I am,” she admits, confirming his thoughts. “I mean, I don’t even like being watched while I cross the street. It’s like I forget how to walk.”

“Okay, different question. How would you feel about getting in a bath with me?”

She thinks about it. “I’d be okay with that.”

He runs them a bath lightly scented with a lavender oil he bought recently, while Y/N leans against the doorway and watches. Once he begins to undress, she follows suit. Starting with his crewneck, she removes her clothes at an extremely slow pace, as if she’s on the verge of changing her mind at any moment. He finishes undressing before she does and pretends not to notice her eyes bulging at the sight of his dick. Instead, he leans over to the tub to test the temperature of the water.

“I’ll get in first,” he says. “Then you can sit between my legs. Sound good?”

She swallows. “Yup.��

He steps into the tub and submerges everything but his head and upper chest into the water. His back rests against one side, his long legs outstretched in front of him.

In the meantime, Y/N finishes undressing. He forces himself not to stare, knowing that it’ll only make her more nervous. She moves quickly now, striding over to the tub and climbing in on wobbly legs. He holds out his hand for support.

“Careful,” he says.

She sits down between his legs with her back facing him. There’s still a lot of space between them.

“Just lean back against me,” he tells her.

She hesitates for a moment, then leans back until she’s flush against his torso.

He smiles. “There you go.”

“Okay, what now?”

“Nothing. Let’s just sit for a minute.”

They enjoy the next few minutes in companionable silence. The warm water seems to dissolve all the tension in her body, which is exactly why he suggested this idea in the first place. Her shoulders relax. She sinks deeper into him.

After a while, he says, “I’m going to try something. If you don’t like what I’m doing or you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. My ego can handle it. Okay?”

She responds with a tiny nod.

“I need you to answer me verbally, lovie,” he says softly in her ear. “Just so I can be sure we’re on the same page.”

“Yes. Got it. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Don’t have to apologize.”

“Sorry,” she says again, automatically. “Fuck! Sorr— Shit! Why do I keep—” She starts to sit up, but he places a hand in the middle of her chest, gently pulling her back against him. He can feel her heart galloping like a racehorse.

“Y/N, relax. You’re okay. You’re doing great. Just breathe.”

She inhales a deep, shaky breath, then releases it.

“That’s good. Keep doing that.”

Her heartrate gradually decreases with each breath she takes. Once she appears to have calmed down, he moves his hand from the centre of her chest to one of her breasts, cupping it tenderly in his palm. His other hand comes to rest on her belly before making its descent between her legs. She squirms a little once the pads of his fingers make contact with her clit.

“Are we okay?” he asks.

“Y—yeah.” She takes another deliberate breath.

He rubs her clit in small, tight circles and kneads her breast at the same time. Her hands rest at her sides on top of his thighs. As he pinches her nipple, twisting and pulling it lightly, her fingers dig into his thighs and his cock twitches between their bodies. He wonders if she felt it. His middle finger prods around her slit now and slips inside without resistance. He pumps it in and out a few times before adding a second one, using his thumb to rub her clit.

Y/N is completely silent, but the slick substance coating her pussy and the subtle rocking of her hips is confirmation enough that she’s enjoying this. He peeks at her face to find her eyes closed and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth like she’s afraid of accidentally making a sound.

That is another thing they’ll need to work on. Harry likes being vocal during sex and equally enjoys when his lovers are vocal too. He doesn’t want Y/N to hold anything back around him. But they can work on that another day.

“Does this feel good?” he asks.

She nods, then remembers what he said earlier and answers out loud, “Feels good, yes. Really good.”

Satisfied by her response, he presses a third finger inside and pushes all three of them deep into her with every thrust, turning her into a squirming, quivering mess in his arms. Her back arches off his torso as she comes, the smallest whimper slipping through her self-restraint. He gradually lessens the stimulation on her clit, then removes his fingers completely. She lets her head roll back against his shoulder.

“Wow,” she sighs. “I’ve never… That’s never happened with someone before.”

“Wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No, it was great. Um… thank you?”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

Suddenly, she sits up and looks over her shoulder at him. “So… your turn now?”

He waves his hand, splashing some of the water with it. “Don’t worry about that.”

She frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs casually, trying to act cool as if he can’t feel his dick throbbing furiously under the water right now.

He could take her up on the offer, but he wants to focus on her today. Y/N is too nice to admit it, but he has deduced from their recent conversations that her previous partners were too greedy in the bedroom, exploiting her selfless nature for their own benefit. It’s quite unfortunate. Someone like her deserves to be spoiled, not exploited. At least now that she’s with him, he can make sure she gets the treatment she deserves.

After they’ve cleaned up and stepped out of the tub, he grabs one of the towels off the counter and starts handing it to her, then stops.

“Can I dry you off?” he asks.

She seems surprised but not opposed to the idea. “Sure.”

“Okay, just one moment.” He quickly pats himself dry, then grabs the other towel and walks over to her.

Timid eyes gaze up at him. They fall shut as he raises the towel to her face and dabs away all the little water droplets. Next, he moves down to her neck, shoulders, chest, and so on… After he’s done with her upper body, he sinks down to his knees on the mat and works on her lower half, taking his sweet time and humming softly to himself. He glances up to find her smiling at him.

Once her entire body is dry, he leans forward and plants a kiss to her belly before standing up with the towel thrown over his shoulder. Y/N’s eyes follow him as if in a trance.

“All good?”

She just blinks at him.

“Y/N?”

“I’m in love with you.” The words rush out of her like a whoosh of air that had been trapped in a sealed container. “God, it feels weird saying it out loud. It’s been in my head for so long and I didn’t want to say it because that makes it feel more… real.”

“Why’s that a bad thing?”

She doesn’t reply.

“Because you think I don’t feel the same way?”

“Do you?” She winces slightly as if she’s bracing herself for possible rejection, as if the answer to that question could be anything but “absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent yes.”

“Of course I do, Y/N. I thought I’d made that pretty obvious.”

“You should know by now that nothing is obvious with me.”

It’s true. Even when they were just friends and Harry began dropping hints that he wanted to be more than that, they pretty much all went over her head. Y/N is a smart woman; she just happens to be totally oblivious when it comes to love and romance, which he finds deeply endearing about her.

“Well, take this as your confirmation that I am, in fact, very much in love with you,” he states, taking her face in his hands and giving her a big, sloppy smooch on the lips, which she accepts with a laugh.

***

“That’s it, lovie. Keep going. You’re doing amazing.”

Y/N rocks back and forth on Harry’s thigh, her cunt positioned directly over his tiger tattoo. His thick, firm quads provide the perfect amount of friction against her needy clit.

A week ago, the idea of riding his thigh while he watched her would have made her extremely self-conscious. But since then, they’ve spent each night exploring each other’s bodies. He has given her several more orgasms with his fingers and mouth, while she has given him some with her hand. They’ve masturbated in front of each other. One night, he gave her a full-body massage that turned her on so much that he hardly even had to touch her clit to make her come.

She doesn’t mind being watched anymore. Not by Harry, at least. His gaze is never judgemental or critical. She doesn’t need to fret over saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining the moment. This has made her fall even more head over heels for him.

“Look so pretty getting yourself off on my thigh like this,” he says, toying with her breasts.

A moan starts to leave her mouth until she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth to trap it in. Harry reaches up and drags her lip back down with his thumb.

“Let me hear you,” he says. “Wanna hear how good this makes you feel.” He grips her chin between his thumb and index finger, keeping her mouth open.

She’s close now, the heat of her orgasm building in her core. Her hips grind faster against him. He lifts up his thigh to heighten the pressure on her clit. The tight knot in her lower abdomen unravels, and she comes with a loud moan, soaking his thigh with her juices.

“You make the sweetest sounds when you come,” he says, releasing her chin.

She pecks him on the lips and, before she’s even recovered from her orgasm, gets on her knees between his legs.

He frowns. “What are you doing?”

She looks at him like it should be obvious. “Returning the favour?” As she begins to reach for his cock, he grabs her wrist.

“Nope,” he says. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you have to pay me back for every orgasm. Sex doesn’t have to be so transactional, you know?” The smirk on his face conveys that he’s joking, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from having the sudden, embarrassing realization that perhaps she does treat sex like it’s transactional and just wasn’t aware of it until now.

“I—I know that,” she fibs a little. “I just want to make you feel good.” That part, at least, is not a lie.

Harry has been spoiling her heavily this past week, which has been delightful. She can tell he’s making every effort to gain her trust in the fact that he doesn’t expect anything in return for how incredible he makes her feel. But Y/N likes making him feel good too. She likes the way he hisses and shudders when she finds his most sensitive spots. She likes watching his usual composure crumble simply from her touch. She lives for it.

“Please?” she adds to her request, giving him her best doe eyes.

“Okay,” he says. “If you really want to.”

“I do.”

He lets go of her wrist, allowing her to reach for his stiff cock again. Nerves make her hands tremble, as she remembers how long it’s been since she gave someone a blowjob. She wants it to be perfect, but realistically, she’ll probably be a bit rusty.

She strokes him in her hand and runs her tongue along the underside of his shaft until, finally, she feels ready to take him in her mouth. Her lips wrap around his tip and slowly move down his length, tongue gliding against him. She considers deep-throating, then decides against it because it’s been way too long since she’s done it and she needs time to work up to it again. Any insecurity she felt about that disappears the moment she glances up at Harry. His eyes are closed and jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Emboldened by the look of absolute ecstasy on his face, she bobs her head up and down his shaft and massages his balls with her hand. She moans around him, and he releases a low groan at the sensation it produces. Then she lets his entire length slip from her mouth, teasing him by flicking her tongue over his tip and leaving little kisses along his shaft until his fingers are weaving through her hair in desperation.

“Didn’t know you could be such a tease,” he says with a breathy laugh.

She grins innocently, then takes him into her mouth again, determined to suck him to completion this time. His hand feels good in her hair. She imagines him holding her head in place while he fucks her mouth. She never thought she would be into that sort of thing until now.

“I’m gonna come soon, Y/N,” he warns her as he gets close.

She doesn’t pull away. He thinks she didn’t hear him, so he repeats himself. She makes eye contact to convey that she heard him, that she wants him to come in her mouth, which he does moments later. She relishes the taste of it, swallowing every last drop. As she draws back and wipes her mouth clean, he stares at her in amazement.

“You’re really fucking good at that,” he tells her.

“Thanks! I had this boyfriend in college who only wanted blowjobs all the time since that didn’t involve having to make me come, which was basically impossible for him. He was kind of demanding, but he taught me how to give a damn good blowjob.”

Harry grimaces. “You know, the more I learn about your previous partners, the more I want to hit them over the head with something.”

She laughs. “I think I make them seem meaner than they were.”

“No, I think you make them seem nicer than they were.” He pats his thigh. “Get up here.”

She stands up and sits on his thigh with her legs dangling between his this time. His arm wraps around her back.

Locking his eyes on hers, he says, “You are worth so much more than being some guy’s blowjob dispenser, all right?”

“I know, I know,” she says. “I was just young and naive back then, but I know better now.”

“Good. Don’t ever let any man or woman treat you that way. Okay?”

His eyes are so full of care and concern for her that she thinks she might just cry.

“Okay,” she replies.

***

Harry loves writing about the initial euphoria that comes with falling in love. It’s intoxicating and exhilarating and all-consuming. Many of his most successful songs were inspired by this peculiar feeling. It’s no wonder that he keeps heading into the studio lately to harness all this creative energy and inject it into his music.

Today, Tom, Tyler, and Mitch are all in the studio with him. Mitch is riffing on his guitar while Harry adlibs over it when Jeff pokes his head into the room.

“H, Y/N’s here to see you,” he says.

Harry raises his brows. “She is?” She didn’t tell him that she’d be visiting the studio today.

“Yeah, she’s waiting out front.”

“Is she all right? Did she say why she’s here?”

Jeff shrugs. “No clue. She seemed fine.”

Y/N always seems “fine.” She’s quite skilled at pretending everything is okay when it’s not, which can be rather concerning. Harry tells the guys he’ll be back, then heads to the front of the studio where he finds his girlfriend staring at a wall decorated from top to bottom with framed album covers of legendary musicians.

“Hi, darling,” he says as he approaches.

She turns to him, eyes illuminating as soon as they meet his. “Hi! Sorry, I told Jeff not to go get you, but he did anyway.” She gives him an apologetic smile. “I hope you weren’t in the middle of something. I swear if you were writing your next Grammy-winning single and I just ruined your flow, I’ll be so mad at myself.”

“Stop it. You haven’t ruined anything.” He steps closer, taking her hands. “Now tell me what brought you here. Are you okay?”

He studies her as she replies, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not here for any particular reason. I just…” She hesitates. “I needed to see you.” As soon as she says it, her eyes squeeze shut. “Fuck, that sounds so needy.”

“That’s okay. We all get needy sometimes. Do you want to sit in the studio with me?”

She bites her lip, giving it some thought before shaking her head.

“Okay.” He brings her hands between their bodies, swinging them apart and together again. “Then tell me what you need.”

“I—I need…” She glances down in the general direction of his crotch.

A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “You need…?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

He tilts his head to side, feigning innocence. “Say what?”

“Baby…”

He wanted to make her say it, but the pleading look in her eyes makes him cave. “You need my cock, is that it?”

“Shhh! Not so loud!” Her head spins around to make sure no one heard them.

He laughs. “There’s no one around, lovie.”

“Still!” She sighs and presses her hands against her flaming cheeks. “It’s not fair. You’ve been teasing me with it this whole week, and it’s all I can think about. Couldn’t even focus on my art today because I kept thinking about how…”—she drops her voice to a barely audible whisper—“how you would feel inside me.”

It’s been exactly a week since Y/N first hinted that she’s ready to go all the way with him. Harry was the one who wanted to put it off a little longer. He predicted that if he made her wait long enough, her hunger for it would overpower any anxiety that might crop up during the act.

Smiling, he brings his hand up to her cheek, her skin hot against his cool palm. “Aw, I know, sweetheart. You know the only reason I’ve been teasing is to make sure you’re ready for it.”

“I know. And I’m ready now. I really am.”

“Okay, but we can’t exactly do it here, you know that?”

“Why not? Isn’t there a bathroom in here somewhere?” She pushes up on her toes to look over his shoulder down the hallway where he came from.

“We’re not fucking in the studio bathroom, Y/N.”

She groans and lifts her hands up to his chest, scrunching his shirt between her fingers. “But I can’t wait any longer!”

“Yes, you can.” He wraps his hands around her wrists. “You’re going to be a good girl for me and wait until I pick you up from your flat tonight.”

She pouts and concedes, “Fine.”

He kisses her pout and gives her a hug that lasts for several minutes because she doesn’t want to let go and he never lets go until she does, so they’re in a standoff for who’s going to let go first until finally, Y/N releases him.

After that, the rest of the day moves at a snail-like pace. Harry can hardly focus; he’s too distracted by the thought of what’s to come tonight. Every lyric he comes up with sounds too raunchy to put in an actual song. Even his friends jokingly speculate about why he’s acting so strange—especially Tom, who just loves to make him squirm.

That evening, he has to make a conscious effort not to speed all the way to Y/N’s flat. The plan was to pick her up, take her back to his place, and maybe eat dinner before having their fun, but he thinks he’ll have to skip most of those steps.

Y/N buzzes him into her building. She’s on the second floor, so he doesn’t even bother with the elevator and takes the stairs two at a time. As soon as she lets him in, his mouth is on hers. She kisses him right back, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing up against him. They make their way to her bedroom and remove all their clothes, ending up on the bed with him on top of her.

“Naughty girl,” he says between kisses to her neck. “Came all the way to the studio because you were needy for my cock, hm?”

She covers her face with her hands. “H, don’t tease! I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

He gently pulls her hands away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. Do you have any idea how sexy it is that you want me that badly? Got me all hot and bothered at the studio. Could barely keep myself together for the rest of the day.”

A mischievous little grin makes its way onto her face. “Really?”

“Yes, really. That’s the effect you have on me.” His hand drifts down between her legs to find that she’s already drenched, so he grabs his cock and runs the tip up and down her slit. When he looks back up at her face, there’s a hint of apprehension that wasn’t there before. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just remembered that I haven’t had something so, uh”—she swallows, glancing down at his cock—“big inside me in a while.”

“Do you want to be on top? That way, you can go at your own pace.”

“What if my pace is too slow and you can’t come?”

“What if I come two seconds after I’m inside you? Would you still love me?”

“Of course!”

“There’s your answer then.”

She squints at him, her lips curving up. “Well played.”

They switch positions so that she’s on top of him, straddling his hips while he leans back against the headboard. She carefully guides his cock up to her entrance, inserting the tip before lowering herself onto him. Her tight walls stretch and expand to accommodate him. She winces from the discomfort. He massages her hips, reminding her to take her time.

It takes her several attempts to get him all the way in, but once he’s there, the feeling is indescribable. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes briefly.

“Is that okay?” she asks.

“Perfect,” he responds in a strained voice. “It’s perfect.”

She seems reassured by his response and starts moving her hips in slow circles, getting used to having him inside her. Then she lifts up and sinks all the way down again. Soon enough, she’s riding him at a steady pace, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts swaying gorgeously in his face, beckoning him to place his hands over them. He has pictured this moment so many times, he can’t believe that it’s finally happening.

He starts thrusting up into her, meeting her halfway. As his thrusts become sharper, her jaw drops open.

“Harry—”

The sound of his name slipping out of her mouth like that, all salacious and full of yearning, is a drug he can see himself getting addicted to.

“Please,” she whines.

He slows down, worried that he might have been too rough. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just— Please don’t stop. It feels so good.”

“Feels good, huh? Someone finally fucking you like you deserve?”

She nods, her eyes rolling back as he resumes the movement of his hips.

“This is what it’s supposed to feel like,” he tells her. “Remember this.”

“Oh, I will.” She barely finishes her sentence before he pounds into her again.

He feels himself about to crest and reaches down to rub her clit. A final medley of moans and grunts leave their mouths as they come. Her pussy spasms around his pulsing length. As the waves of pleasure subside, her body goes completely slack in his arms, worn out from the intensity of the experience they just shared. She rests her head against his shoulder, basking in the afterglow while he brushes his fingers through her hair.

Her soft voice breaks through the silence. “I didn’t know it could feel this good. I’ve been missing out.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to catch you up. Don’t you worry.” He kisses the side of her head, earning a contented sigh from her.

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[90sbee]

Sometimes a saviour is a soldier afraid of peace

Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

4.4k words. Also on ao3.

He looks at her in quiet admiration.

He doesn’t deserve her. But again, he doesn’t really deserve anything. He already has gotten too much: spoiled by the sweet possibility of life when all his comrades have fallen, their bodies twisted, mangled by titans and enemies alike.

Levi hardly cries, but he wants to cry in that moment. She turns on the stove for him, and rummages through his cabinets. She finds two cups and a sob is trapped inside his throat.

He doesn’t fucking understand why she stays, why she puts up with his sorry ass but, damn it. Damn it if he at least doesn’t try.

The war is over, but the demons still haunt Levi. Luckily for him, the last member of his Squad seems focused on remaining by his side as they both face this new enemy: peace.

This was !!! My first fic written in English, actually. Also my first (and only time so far) writing for aot. Levi is such an angsty angel, and this story wouldn’t leave my head, so I had to end up writing it, ofc. This has been in the drafts for... months. Too many months already. And tbh I'm not a fan of how it came out. But. Posting it in case someone else can enjoy Levi finally getting some love and comfort, sjsjs.

Content: Use of 3rd person pronouns. No use of y/n. Mostly Levi's pov. Reader was part of his Squad. Post!Rumbling Levi. Written with the manga ending in mind. A lot of fluff, rude Levi even if he doesn't mean it (but reader knows he means no harm). Healing. Spooning (Levi as the little spoon btw. He deserves it).

Warnings: depressive thoughts, self confidence issues. Mentions of past violence (but nothing gruesome, it's all in passing). SFW. No beta reader we die like everybody in Aot here.

They always meet. Every single day, she leaves her little flat to find him near the fountain in the Marleyan park, eager to push his wheelchair and pass some time with him.

Levi doesn’t understand. When Onyankopon, or Falco, or Gabi let her take the wheelchair, he just ponders. He could understand why they would accompany him: because he is old? because they feel pity of him?… But her?

Nonetheless, every single afternoon, she comes to him. He doesn’t recall when this custom began. It’s like slowly, but surely, she started digging a place into his routine. She was part of his remaining squad, and he really didn’t see any point to her bubbling-self still being by his side.

Still, he appreciates her visits. She exchanges pleasantries with Gabi, already smiling. Why is she smiling?

“Hi, Captain,” she says. Should he feel mocked? He isn’t a captain anymore and the title feels too much, even if it’s comforting in some way. Levi doesn’t reply. He just nods, silently acknowledging her presence. “Is it okay if we go to the stalls for a while, Captain?” She inquires, as if it was the first time they did it, and not a weekly occurrence. His jaw tenses. He doesn’t understand, still. She surely pities him. She has to.

He agrees to her proposal, though.

“Sure,” he replies, barely any emotion on his face.

She smiles at him. For a moment, they look at each other. She sees that familiar scarred face, a grey eye gazing into her soul. He sees the older face of her remaining squad member, some wrinkles next to her eyes, her figure dressed in green. For some reason, he liked that colour on her.

He doesn’t share that with her, though.

“Let’s get going,” she adds, a little chuckle in her voice — he can hear it — as she starts pushing the wheelchair. They check out the little shops that are already so familiar. Sometimes she signals a piece of jewellery or clothes. She asks for his opinion, or points at a silly artwork, in hopes of making him laugh.

When the cold starts to set in, she stops them in front of a coffee shop.

“Wait here a second, Captain,” she tells him.

“Where would I go, anyway?” He wants to say, snarky, but he doesn’t really bother in opening his mouth. He stays silent still, perking his head up to see what’s she’s doing.

“Oi. coffee?” He complains.

She directs her gaze to him and chuckles, paying the vendor.

“I know you like tea but it’s time to broaden your horizons,” she explains. She comes up to him again, and hands him one of the cups. He sighs, but accepts the drink still.

“What is it this time?”

“Just chocolate. Hot chocolate,” she answers, already sipping hers.  She lets out a content sigh when the warmth of it starts to fill her belly.

“I don’t like chocolate,” Levi mutters under his breath. He is lying and she knows it.

“Tsk. That’s not true. Everybody likes chocolate.”

“… Fine,” he sips his drink and, admittedly, enjoys it. She hands him her drink so she can push the wheelchair again, and he takes it, guarding both cups on his lap, a familiar action for the two of them now.

“Where do we go?” She asks.

Levi shrugs. “As if I had a choice.”

She looks at him still, and when he can see her, barely from his peripheral vision, he sees a softer face. She’s waiting for his reply. He looks at her, looks at her lips. She isn’t smiling anymore. Levi sighs, suddenly feeling guilty.

He doesn’t understand still why she does this for him.

“Captain?” She says, just above a whisper, since there are people around them and they both just want to have a calm evening, without the risk of being recognised.

Levi nods before he even opens his mouth.

“The bridge.”

“Good,” she agrees as he sips from his drink again, guided by her. He does feel warmer. Levi inspects the people around him in silence, letting himself be carried, taken to a nicer place. “Hange would have like this,” he thinks. He looks down to suddenly realise he is clenching his fist, hard. “If you could even call it a hand…”

“We’re here, Captain,” she announces, letting his wheelchair rest next to a bench, overlooking the water. She takes a seat next to him, and Levi hands her the drink. He wonders if she noticed how tense he’s been feeling today.

“Be quick with that, brat, or it will get cold,” he warns, as if to pre-emptively shut down any words from her. He’s not sure he could handle it.

She just nods.

“It’s still warm,” she mentions after a moment.

The sunset is taking its place on the sky, a beautiful palette of oranges and pinks against a very flat horizon. A reminder of what was once lost.

“Good,” he says.

Levi looks at her. She is still looking forward, features illuminated by the falling sun, breeze caressing her face. There is something in his heart that aches, but he doesn’t want to think about that. He doesn’t dare to. Levi is old, too old, and too broken. And she only pities him.

He coughs to catch her attention, though.

“Hmh, yeah?” She immediately says.

“I heard the Scouts were going back to Paradis tomorrow,” he begins, the question lingering in the air. The small group was leaving first time in the morning.

“Yep.”

Levi blinks, expecting her to say more, but she doesn’t. He doesn’t want to ask. It feels… too much. He feels too exposed doing that, lower lip trembling.

“Are you going?” He finally dares to ask.

She turns back to him again, and looks at him with the sweetest gaze. Levi doesn’t miss how she looks at his lips first.

“I’m not.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have anything there,” she replies, matter-of-factly. Levi wants to hit his head against something, still uncertain about what that means. Does that mean that she has something here? Someone?

She must notice his doubts, so she lowers her gaze. “I mean. You know I lost my family during my first years as a Scout. And knowing that we tried to stop Eren… All the military forces in the island won’t be very happy to see me. Or any of us. I’ve done my part. I do not want more fighting.”

“… Right”. That still doesn’t answer his question, but it is enough to satisfy his curiosity without seeming to eager. He sips his drink again: it’s getting colder.

“You didn’t want to go, Captain?” There it was again, that fucking title that felt like a joke. He chuckles, not looking at her anymore but rather at the sunset.

“Why do you still call me like that?” He spits back.

“Captain?”

“Yeah,” His tone is unintentionally rude, but he can’t help it, not even around her.

“Well… It’s a sign of respect, don’t you think?”

Levi chuckles, amused.

“I never took you for a polite person.” He doesn’t want to look at her still. She hasn’t added anything, said anything else. What is she thinking of?

She looks at him. There’s a warmth in her belly which has nothing to do with the chocolate anymore. She knows: Her Captain has been way more vulnerable and open since the Rumbling. The little gestures that he could so easily hide before are now an open book. Or at least she feels that way, since she was always one to look at him.

It was so easy to just… stare at him. Admire him in every sense of the word, even now. When they were both soldiers they would fight alongside each other, against innumerable dangers. He was barely visible in the spectrum: always so fast, always so precise. A ray of dark hair and strong limbs, destroying everything to provide peace, to provide protection.

There was no point in denying how she felt about him… Except, maybe, to him.

“I don’t think I would like going back to Paradis,” she finally adds, finishing her drink. He seems to reflect on that idea for a moment, before nodding. He wants to ask why but he doesn’t dare to. “I’m just… comfortable here,” she finishes with a sigh. “This is okay.”

“That’s good,” he says, barely a spark of enthusiasm in his voice, but enough for her to notice.

She looks up at him again. And he feels tiny and scared suddenly, because she looks at him with wonder and care. Levi doesn’t mean to, but he ends up letting his drink fall from his hands, whether due to his nervousness or the state of his hand after the war.

“Shit,” he spits, upset.

“Sh, it’s alright, Captain.” In a second she is picking up the cup, handing him a handkerchief to dry his hands. She walks a few steps to throw both cups into a trashcan and is again, by his side. Such a quick interaction so as to ease his shame, he could notice it. “Are you alright?”

Levi still doesn’t know. He doesn’t know why she still treats him with such respect, why she seems to care so much for him. But he wants to find out, somehow. He barely nods, but she notices it.

“Good,” she says, while taking the handkerchief back. She is about to put it into her bag again when she feels a hand grabbing hers.

Levi.

He doesn’t even say anything. He doesn’t know how. She seems to understand, though, squeezing his hand, softly. Levi quickly lets her hand go, his cheeks going red. She gets behind the wheelchair again, as the sun is about to disappear, and Levi can hear her chuckling.

“Let’s get you home, Captain.”

He stays quiet, unsure if he could even say something useful.

There’s so much he doesn’t know how to say. How to do.

While she is pushing his chair he notices it again. A slight tremor in her right hand. “My wrist seems to ache lately… Must be from holding the blades for so many years,” she had explained in passing a couple weeks ago. He realises that it’s probably taking a strain on her to push him every fucking day.

“Oi,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Stop pushing me. I can handle it,” he explains, tone serious.

“Oh, no,” her hand is trembling still. “It’s fine, it’s no bother for me, Captain.”

“… It’s an order,” he commands after a moment. She stops in her tracks and he can hear a gentle laugh coming from behind him.

“It had been a while since that, huh.” Confidently, she places one of her hands on his shoulder, gently tapping it. Levi smiles. Barely curving his lips, but he does. He is about to be brave, hold her hand on his shoulder when she removes it from him. “Shit,” he thinks. “Too slow… Too slow? Slow for what? Tsk.”

Despite his missing fingers, he can still push his wheelchair quite properly. It also helps that he can see his street far ahead. She walks comfortably besides him, a silence and gentle ghost as his most devoted companion.

Yeah. There’s definitely something aching in his chest. He had been noticing the past days, feeling getting more painful as they both approach his place. And it has nothing to do with his faulty joints or damaged body or excessive age.

When they reach his door, she asks for his key. Levi gives it to her, his hand lingering for a second too long, reflecting on the brief touch of hands as she grabs it to unlock the door.

He is tired.

And he feels incredibly silly when he realises he doesn’t want her to leave.

“There we go, Captain. I help you in?” she suggests with a bright smile, opening the door.

“… Yes.”

She steps inside and pushes the chair into his living room, almost getting it next to his couch.

“That’s enough” he decides, in a semblance of independency he still wants to maintain.

She nods. “Okay… I guess… I’ll get going, Captain.”

Levi lifts up his gaze. He wants to ask… He wants to know… He savours her image for a moment, her tired expression and the way her dress now looks clumsy and wrinkled but he doesn’t care. Before, before everything had ended up like this he would remind every single cadet to iron their uniforms, all the outfits presentable, so as to look like respectable soldiers and honourable bodies if the occasion arose. Now she can have the privilege of looking messy. Of not worrying about death so often.

“No,” he mutters.

“Huh?” she inquires, taking a step forward.

“Shit,” Levi thinks. “I… I want tea,” he makes up a quick lie.

“Oh, sure. Yes, Captain.” She leaves her bag on the couch and goes into the kitchen, getting a kettle full of water.

He looks at her in quiet admiration.

He doesn’t deserve her. But again, he doesn’t really deserve anything. He already has gotten too much: spoiled by the sweet possibility of life when all his comrades have fallen, their bodies twisted, mangled by titans and enemies alike.

Levi hardly cries, but he wants to cry in that moment. She turns on the stove for him, and rummages through his cabinets. She finds two cups and a sob is trapped inside his throat.

He doesn’t fucking understand why she stays, why she puts up with his sorry ass but, damn it. Damn it if he at least doesn’t try.

He stands up. His body still holds that ability, though his legs get tired rather quickly. He can still walk, so he does until he reaches the kitchen. She is still deciding on the teas when she sees him.

“Oh, no, Captain, please, just don’t…”

He interrupts her, grabs her waist carelessly and pushes her towards the couch, barely moving her.

“Let me handle it myself.”

“Levi…” She whispers, their faces inches apart.

“Go. Sit,” he mumbles, biting his lips and sending his eyes lower, so as to avoid her face.

“Are you sure?” She inquires a moment after, still close to him. He notices she has a hand on his waist as well, a protective aid making sure he stays on two feet.

“Yes,” he says, more commanding this time. He grabs that hand of hers and pushes her away gently now.

She nods, understandingly.

“I’ll be in the living room,” she adds.

Levi nods at her, making sure she finally gets that ass of hers in the couch. He is now faced with his kitchen. Most of the cups and teas, everything has been moved lower, so as to accommodate to his wheelchair. Slowly, he kneels, searching for a specific flavour for her. When he finally finds the peppermint and rose one, he mentally cheers. He stands up again, slowly, as if to show confidence, making sure from his peripheral view that she isn’t coming to his aid.

She isn’t. He catches her averting her eyes, though. A confirmation that she has been staring.

He decides to stare as well. Supporting himself on his weakened legs, he waits for the kettle to boil, while looking at her. It’s as if she could notice that, because her head doesn’t move, still fixated on an indescriptible point in his living room.

“Oi, what you looking at?” He says, a bit more light-hearted.

A smile forms on her lips before she even turns her head towards him. She doesn’t answer. Just keeps smiling at him.

“Fuck,” he thinks when he realises he has also slightly curved his lips.

Quickly he turns towards the stove, the kettle already boiling. Levi carefully fills the cups with water, letting the leaves rest. He lifts his gaze up to her for a second but it is already enough for her to notice.

“Need help with the cups?” Her, always so worried, so in tune with his needs. No need for words.

“Of fucking course.”

Still, the only answer he gives her is a polite nod. She stands up, approaching him.

“I’ll handle it, Captain. Just take a seat.”

He lets out a sigh, taking himself to the couch and plopping himself there.

“It’s hard,” Levi thinks as he sees her come back to the living room, two cups in her hands. He accepts the drink, his gaze not leaving her features. “I… I can’t.”

He knows he can’t accept kindness: he doesn’t know how to. Still, he tenses his jaw and forces himself to sip the tea as she takes a seat next to him.

“Peppermint, huh?” She hums mostly to herself.

 “… Yeah,” comes out of his mouth, unsure, less braver than expected. Is he insecure? Has he made a mistake?

“Good choice” She declares and he breathes again, realising that he had been holding his breath. “Bet you already knew that, right?” She adds, cocking her head.

Levi looks at her again. He has been avoiding her eyes but he hadn’t been trained as a soldier to back down in times of peace.

“I did,” he says, his tone firm, a very weak attempt at showing confidence still. “It’s the one you would always ask for when we would have meetings with the Scouts.”

“It’s good tea.” Her tone seems softer now.

Levi hums, too deep inside his mind to notice it.

She wonders. Wonders if he has ever realized that the only reason she would wander through the headquarters late at night was just to be found and reprimanded by him, the way she would be easily entertained by Levi’s stern face. Wondered if Hange had ever told him about the time she had fallen asleep in their office and woke up, mumbling his name, much to Hange’s delight, though they had promised to keep it a secret.

He looks down at his legs, at his carpeted floor.

He wonders if she had ever noticed the way he would mindlessly lick his lips after looking at her, the boring uniform suddenly a beautiful outfit, making her stand out. Wonders if it was too late to tell her that, yes, after Hange and her had found him, and stitched him up, that he had heard every single word she had uttered near his heart, softly pressing her timid hands on his chest. There hadn’t been time then to discuss anything or even think if it had meant anything else than old scouts being protective of each other, but now…

They finish their teas in silence. It isn’t uncomfortable, rather the opposite, despite the fact that Levi has started nervously tapping his feet against the floor. It is dark outside already, the light from the lamps flowing into Levi’s house, a dog barking a few blocks away.

She stands up, makes sure to wash her cup in the sink and put it away before returning to him.

“Captain?” She mutters. No need for more words.

Levi hands her the cup with slow movements, as if trying to prolong that insignificant action for as long as possible. And when she is already about to head into the kitchen, little plate and teacup in her hand, he decides to be brave. No more lying to himself, no more being a coward. Too many people have died, have bleed, have sacrificed the little they had for a selected group of survivors to be able to live. To enjoy the remaining Earth. For the little ones that survived to be able to find some meaning. Something worth all the pain.

Basking in the fear serves no one. In fact, makes all the death meaningless.

So, Levi looks up at her and grabs her hand, even if he is scared still. Trembling fingers dancing on hers until they secure her hand softly in his. He feels warm even if he doesn’t know what to say, how to convey what he feels. Such a shadow of the man he was. So stupid now.

Levi just wants her to say.

She gasps at the contact but quickly composes herself. A shy smile showing up on her face. They stay like that for a moment, neither daring to break the silence.

“Levi?” She asks after a moment, moving closer to his face, as if asking for permission.

He can only look at her lips in reply.

She shortens the distance between them and kisses him on his lips. It isn’t a big kiss, too flashy or provocative: just a tender contact between two broken people. As soon as he has processed what was going on, she has already moved forward, pressing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

And then, even higher, another kiss on his forehead, her lips remaining close to his face. Levi can’t say anything. Barely reacting. But when she looks at his eyes, she is greeted by the sweet glimmer of tears in them.

Levi. Happy, at last.

And as if reading his mind, she utters: “Do you want me to stay, Levi?”

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

She complies. In the quiet, late hours of the night, Levi wakes up, his body feeling too rested already. It was a habit hard to break, he wouldn’t sleep much anyway. He sighs still, feeling her body pressing against his, holding him from behind. She has one hand on his shoulder, the other keeping him safe and secured, hugging his waist close. He dares to smile and grab that hand across his belly with both of his hands, so as to make sure that it is real: he is being held. There is someone else with him. Levi isn’t alone. Someone is taking care of him. Someone he’s been devoted to for so many years.

He wants to nuzzle up closer, hide in her chest or neck and feel more.

But he doesn’t dare to. He can’t allow himself to do that yet. 

So he stays awake in silence, hearing the soothing and steady rhythm of her heartbeat.

Levi still doesn’t understand, though.

He doesn’t want to think of why she has chosen him, how he got this privilege so late in his life, when all hope seems to be lost and the thought of a partner didn’t cross his mind at all. He also doesn’t know what to do with this gift, this blessing. Why? How? He is such a crippled shadow of what he used to be. Slow, so consumed by roughness and violence and so useless now.

He has always had something to fight for: his life, his friends, his Squad, Erwin, Hange. Yet since the Rumbling he has just… fallen behind. He is just existing and it seems like his body has finally caught up to his age: no longer agile and strong, but a weakened man, finally leaving the survival mode that has characterised every single aspect of his life. He doesn’t have any goals or dreams now. Everything had been slowly trampled down like the titans destroying all land and all life.

He shivers, remembering that day and holds her hand tighter.

Once he had completed the promise made to Erwin, his last order, he had nothing more. No more commands. No more slaying titans.

Just existing.

He doesn’t want that. He has been a fighter, a rebel, a monster his whole life. He only knew of endurance and compliance with the spirit of life, of resistance. He doesn’t know of anything else: the calmness, the quietness, the routine walks and just reading books and sitting on his porch… That is not him. That isn’t life. Being able to choose things for himself, devour life gently and enjoy it instead of painfully trying to keep it close, to grip it between calloused fingers… Peace isn’t familiar.

He has nothing to devote himself to, nothing to prove or fight for.

“Yeah,” he thinks. “Everything is… meaningless… Or it was.”

He closes his eyes, relinquishing himself in the warm body against his.

Some things… Some things have meaning still.

Her.

The way she would scrunch her nose when laughing or buy him drinks or attempt to make him laugh or wear that damn stupid wrinkled dress and — “Fuck. I know her so much by now…”

She had been a Scout too. She had fought and devoted her heart and did everything a Scout had to do. She had fulfilled her duty in the same way he did. She has survived and she doesn’t regret a single thing. Not even this life.

She is at peace.

He wants to sob.

He doesn’t understand peace. Sure, it was his goal, what he always dreamed of, but, damn it. Levi had never thought he would actually get to see something resembling it. Unlike her. She understood what it was: she has accepted peace with open arms and a smile that — fuck, somehow— has been shining on her face throughout the years. Despite so much pain and death…  She still allows herself to fucking live in peace. She forgave herself for the death, for the pain and crimes and let go.

He isn’t sure if he can do the same.

Peace is foreign, strange even. An oddity. And he isn’t stupid, he knows that time would run up someday and that things would turn against them for a second time.

But, still, the promise of the rest of his life in peace lingers.

He could have it.

He fucking could.

Levi reflects on those thoughts for a moment, silent still.

He thinks he can get to an agreement. Maybe, when she wakes up in the morning, he can try to spill his soul to her a little. Try to understand how she handles this life, how she can get up in the mornings after killing so much, and just have tea with him.

But for now, in the quietness of the night, as the old warrior he was, he does the only thing he knows: he promises to dedicate his heart once more.

He finally has a reason, a purpose, something worth protecting again.

Levi lifts his hand, crossing it on his chest the way all Scouts would do. But he doesn’t press it on his heart, but rather, moves it to hold her hand, the one resting on his shoulder. He squeezes it gently, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed by her. By the silent love she had been proclaiming to him all these years and that he couldn’t reciprocate before.

Yes. Now it is the time.

Levi would dedicate his heart once more.

To her and only her.

That may have been the cheesiest ending ever written but !!!! He deserves it, I know. Also someone stop me before I write for Hange, the feelings got to me indeed. Dividers by @/cafekitsune @/saradika and @/vase-of-lilies

[helloalycia]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] — 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐎𝐑

one / masterlist / wattpad

summary: when you find yourself in a situation where you want to kiss Jackie, you're not sure you can make the first move. A fact made even harder when Nat is there to tease you about it.

warning/s: none really.

author's note: here's part 2! hope you like it whilst i sort through a ton of wips lol

I nodded along as Taissa was telling me about a colourful bird she'd seen earlier. We were eating some deer stew together outside the cabin, with the other girls settling down for dinner too, and it was basically a five star dinner with what we had out here.

"It was so pretty," Taissa finished. "And I swear it was following me."

I tried not to laugh. "Tai, I think you might have officially just lost it if the highlight of your day was a bird following you."

"Oh, shut up!" she said with a laugh, smacking me on the arm.

"Hey, don't take it out on my dinner!" I said lightheartedly, clutching my bowl of stew tightly with my one good hand.

"Idiot," she mumbled, but was smiling still.

"Hey, guys," Jackie said, joining us. "What did I miss?"

"Tai here was telling me about a pretty bird that wouldn't stop following her," I said with an amused smile, and it wasn't even an attempt at teasing her, but she nudged me again anyway.

"Quit it!" she warned, before giving Jackie a look. "It was so cool, Jackie."

"She's lost her mind," I told Jackie as she sat down opposite us with her dinner.

Jackie chuckled as she let Taissa tell her the story, and I stayed quiet as I heard it again. After Jackie gave her surprisingly positive input that didn't make fun of it, we all finished dinner and were about to get up together when Van called for Taissa, wanting her for something.

"It's okay, you go, I've got it," I told her, holding out my bowl. "Just put yours here."

"Thanks, Y/N," Tai said with a smile before stacking her bowl in mine, then looking to Van. "I'm coming!"

Joining Jackie, the two of us walked to the washing up area together when, suddenly, someone – I think it was Javi – ran past me and made me stumble backwards into Jackie. I bumped my broken arm in the process, making me curse as I inhaled sharply at the shooting pain up my shoulder.

"Watch where you're going!" Jackie yelled after Travis, who was running after his brother for God knew what reason.

"Come here," Jackie said softly, leading me to the steps of the porch of the cabin to sit down.

She took the bowls from my hand and set them to the side before leaning down before me, her hazel eyes searching mine worriedly.

"You okay?" she asked.

I breathed out slowly, trying to imagine the pain leaving my body, but the abruptness of the shove had hurt pretty bad. "Yeah, I think so."

She sighed, shaking her head. "They're jerks."

"It's fine," I said dismissively, knowing it was an accident.

She frowned, eyes flickering between mine, and I was forced to look away because I hated the sudden attention, my cheeks flushing at it. After what felt like forever, she grabbed the bowls from beside me and stacked them in hers.

"I've got this," she said, squeezing my knee comfortingly before standing up.

When she walked away, I let out a quiet breath of relief, not realising how nervous I'd been. So maybe this crush thing wasn't so fun anymore.

—

With crushing on Jackie meant wondering if she even liked me back, a question I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to. Sometimes I'd feel like she did, whether it be her lingering glances or ability to make me flustered, but then I'd second guess it as her personality and feel stupid for even considering otherwise.

For example, one time I was playing cards with Coach Scott when the blonde found me, asking to join in. So, we let her and played a few rounds of Go Fish before coach's leg was hurting and he left to take a nap.

"You wanna play acorn soccer?" Jackie asked with a playful glint in her eye.

I chuckled at the immediacy of her question. "Sure, why not?"

As we packed the cards away and left them on the side, I glanced around, noticing a few of the other girls were free.

"Should we ask the others?" I asked Jackie before we headed off.

She pretended to consider it. "We could... or we could save the hassle and just stick to us two?"

"Jackie!" I scolded lightheartedly.

"What?" she played along, flashing me a smile. "Someone's just gonna complain and then they'll spoil the fun. I like when it's just us."

I sighed, but gave her a small smile. "Fine. Let's go."

She grinned and led the way, and I had no choice but to follow her. It warmed my heart to know she enjoyed our time together too, but it was also one of those moments where I couldn't tell if I was seeing more into it than there was.

Luckily for me, I received an unbiased opinion on the matter without even asking for it. After Jackie and I played some acorn soccer together, we returned to the cabin before dinner and Jackie left to go catch up with Shauna. As I hung around to help with the fire, Nat found me.

"Hey," I greeted her with a smile. "You just come back from hunting?"

"Uh-huh," she said, before studying me curiously. "I have a question for you, Y/L/N."

Intrigued, I nodded encouragingly. "Shoot."

She knitted her eyebrows together with curiosity. "Since when did you and Jackie become so friendly?"

I shrugged, tossing some wood into the fire.

"Ever since she's been hanging out with you, she's been... nicer," she decided. "What d'you do?"

I gave her a disapproving look. "She was never mean, Nat, c'mon."

Nat weighed it up. "I guess, but sometimes she could be a real b–"

"Nat!" I smacked her arm gently, making her laugh.

"Look, all I'm saying is that girl is different," she said, motioning to the blonde who was chatting with Shauna, thankfully not in earshot of us. "And she definitely likes something about you."

"What can I say? I'm pretty likeable," I said jokingly.

She smirked knowingly. "Not like that, Y/N."

I lost my smile as she left me to it, wondering if she was right. I'd always thought it, but maybe if Nat was seeing it too then I wasn't going insane?

—

A few days later, I was helping Mari to hang some wet clothes on the washing line we'd strung up when something caught my attention.

"And where've you been?" Van asked someone, and I wouldn't have been intrigued if it weren't for the nonchalant response.

"Nowhere," Jackie replied, clearing her throat.

Curious, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Jackie returning to the cabin from somewhere or the other. The strange bit was seeing her clothes a little dirty, earth staining her denim shorts and white shirt. It was very unlike her to be so unkempt and dishevelled, from the mess of her hair to the mud on her nails. As the only one of us who seemed to actually still care how she looked, this was very out of the ordinary.

"Seriously?" I asked, reading Van's thoughts.

Jackie shrugged, wiping her hands on her shorts before heading around back, no doubt to wash off. I exchanged confused looks with Van before resuming with my job. Weird.

—

Struggling to sleep was something that hadn't really gotten better as time went on. You'd think it would considering it had been a month since we'd crashed here, but it was quite literally a hit and miss to whether I could actually fall asleep or not. And even then, at most, I'd get around five hours.

Tonight wasn't any different, and I was getting tired of the tossing and turning and forcing my eyes closed, so I accepted defeat and got up from my spot to sit in front of the fire. It was getting a little chillier in the air, the nights a little colder, and I feared what would happen when summer was over. But I tried not to overthink it right now, instead watching the wood burn a hot orange, embers crumbling off in the fireplace.

I sat there, hoping I'd succumb to fatigue soon enough, and then ten minutes passed and I heard movement from behind me.

"What are you doing?" It was Jackie, and she was yawning as she took a seat beside me, blanket hugging her.

Feeling bad, I said, "You don't need to–"

"Are you in pain?" she asked, waking up some more as she studied my expression.

"No," I breathed out, to which she relaxed. "Just couldn't sleep. Did I wake you?"

Another yawn, this time she tried to stifle it, and she shook her head. I wasn't stupid though, a frown on my lips.

"You can go back to sleep," I reassured her, in case she felt any moral obligation to be here.

Sly smile on her lips, she tilted her head to look at me. "Eager to get rid of me?"

I rolled my eyes, a smile tugging at my lips, and she chuckled quietly as to not wake anyone.

She nudged me with her shoulder, taking on a serious approach. "What's up?"

I stared back at the fire, finding it easier to tell the truth when I wasn't looking at her. "Just a lot on my mind."

"Like?"

Sighing quietly, I said, "This. My arm. Being rescued. It's been a month, Jackie."

She fell quiet, exhaling softly. "I know."

I wasn't sure why, but hearing the defeat in her voice only confirmed my fears – that we might be stuck here forever. Frowning, I looked down at my arm, remembering the day we crashed. The day everything broke down. The last day of our old life, but the first of our new one. How depressing.

"I had a dream about a cheeseburger last night," Jackie suddenly spoke, surprising me at the randomness of her comment.

"What?"

"Yeah," she continued like it was normal, nodding, "it was fresh from the grill, had cold lettuce, pickles, onions, tomatoes, that really good burger sauce with the bits of pickle in–"

"Jackie," I stopped her.

She looked to me, confused and almost offended that I'd interrupted. "What?"

Bizarre, that's what she was, and it made me laugh. Worried I'd woken up the others, I looked around, thankful that everybody was still fast asleep, and looked back to Jackie with a stifled smile.

"What are you going on about?" I asked her in a low voice.

The fire was casting shadows across her face, making the glimmer of gold in her hazel eyes shimmer as she spoke. "There were fries too. Hot and crispy and perfectly salted."

"Thanks," I said sarcastically, though smiling. "Now you've just made me hungry."

She laughed quietly, looking to the fire with approval. "Better than sad."

My smile didn't disappear as I admired her profile, the curve of her jaw, the soft smile imprinted on her face, her hair that was still messy from being asleep. I could have watched her forever, sat there like that, but then I noticed something stuck in her hair. A remnant of a leaf or something.

"You've got something in your hair," I said in a hushed voice, and she lifted a brow as she glanced at me.

"Huh?"

Figuring it was easier to get it out myself, I leaned forward and used my fingers to gently remove the leaf from behind her ear. She stayed still as I did, then I flicked it in the fire before looking back to her, realising she was watching me closely. It could have been the quiet of the night, the crackling of the fire, the proximity between us, but I was amazed by her beauty, eyes taking in her whole expression.

I was close enough to make out the freckles dusting her nose, her earth-coloured eyes which were focused on mine, even the pinkness of her lips as she licked them subconsciously, making my heart race in my chest. It would have been so easy to lean forward, to close the gap and kiss her, but I was terrified. What if Nat was wrong?

What if she was right?

No, I wasn't bold enough to make the first move. If Jackie wanted this – which, the longer she didn't move away from me made me feel like she did – she'd have to do it. Like the wimp I was, I pulled back, looking away. She sighed as she looked back to the fire, and if I couldn't sleep before, I definitely couldn't now.

"Thanks for staying up with me," I said, "but you should sleep."

"So should you," she retorted.

"I promise, I'll try," I said, before standing up and returning to my bed.

She did the same, the two of us tucking ourselves in a few beds over from one another. My heart was hammering away as I laid down, thoughts of Jackie infiltrating my head.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

I swallowed thickly. "Goodnight."

—

If wanting to kiss Jackie Taylor one time wasn't bad enough, having Nat tease me was even worse. She never outright said anything to me since telling me what she thought that one time, but she was certainly enjoying watching me squirm. Especially one evening, when we were all settled around the campfire.

I had my blanket wrapped around me as I sat close to the fire, appreciating the warmth. It wasn't super cold out tonight, but it was comforting nonetheless. Nat was sat on my right, a space between us, and then Jackie appeared, glancing down at me with a smile.

"This seat taken?" she asked.

Before I could even answer, Nat glanced at me with a stifled smirk, and I knew what she was thinking which made me embarrassed all over again.

Trying to ignore Nat, I answered Jackie, "No, go for it."

She grinned and sat in the space between us, and I gave her the other side of my blanket which she wrapped around her shoulders. It wasn't huge though, and she was forced to sit a little closer, close enough for me to make out the smell of the perfume she still spritzed on every morning for a sense of normalcy. It was distracting, as was the feeling of her arm and leg pressed up to mine, and I willed myself to snap out of it.

Suddenly, some of the girls were cheering on the other side of the fire, and then I tuned in when I realised they'd agreed to play a game of truth or dare. Nothing like a typical dumb party game to get everyone's minds off being stranded in the wilderness, right?

Admittedly, it was a little funny going around the circle and watching the stupid dares involving the girls drinking moonshine and flashing themselves, or listening to the amusing truths about someone stealing money from their parents or lying on school tests. For a moment, it was like we really were just at a dumb party.

Then it was my turn to go and Mari asked me if I wanted to pick truth or dare.

"Hmm," I thought aloud, being sure to choose wisely. "I guess I pick dare. I mean, how bad can it be when I only have one working arm?"

"Wanna bet?" Van threatened playfully, a devilish smile on her face which made all the other girls laugh.

Smiling with amusement, I didn't doubt her ability to make a fool of me, broken arm or not. "Damn, truth it is."

Everybody fell quiet as they thought of something to ask, and I wasn't worried in the slightest until Lottie decided to speak.

"This is such a go-to, I'm surprised it hasn't been asked," she said with a chuckle, before looking at me. "Do you have a crush right now? Maybe a long lost love back home?"

My smile was still on my lips, though wanting to disappear as I blinked and became acutely aware of everyone's eyes on me, especially the blonde beside me who was very much the root of my crush.

"Nope," I said as convincingly as I could, making everyone groan at my boring answer.

I truly believed I'd gotten away with it until I looked to Jackie beside me as she was next, but instead caught sight of Nat's mischievous grin beside her. Swallowing thickly, I pretended she wasn't there and looked back to Jackie who was already considering her answer as Mari asked the question.

"Truth," she chose excitedly.

"Oh, I've got a good one," Van said eagerly, before fixing Jackie with a curious look. "What's the most disgusting thing you've done since being here?"

A few girls snickered, and I hid a smile as I awaited Jackie's answer. Everybody knew Jackie acted like a princess, so this must've been good.

Jackie thought about it for a moment, looking up in consideration, before she scrunched her nose with disgust. "Okay, nobody kill me," she disclaimed, piquing everyone's interest, "but I accidentally used someone else's toothbrush one time."

Almost instantly, everybody began to talk over one another, demanding to know whose toothbrush she'd used, but Jackie wasn't having it.

"I don't know whose brush it was!" she exclaimed, embarrassed and avoiding everyone's eyes. "I answered your truth and there's no follow up questions. Also, you should really keep your things out of the communal areas. Just saying."

I suppressed the urge to laugh as a few girls scoffed with disbelief. Jackie glanced at me, both embarrassed and amused, a smile on her lips.

"Okay, Nat, you're up next," Mari moved on. "Truth or dare?"

Nat leaned back on her hands as she answered nonchalantly. "Truth."

"I've got a good one," Shauna said, entertained smile aimed at Nat. "Who do you think has lied tonight?"

Everybody began to 'ooh' at her question, knowing it would be the start of some drama which we had so little of out here. I didn't consider it much, until Nat answered without missing a beat.

"Y/N."

I widened my eyes at her response, looking past Jackie and to a smirking Nat. Everybody was watching the two of us like a tennis match.

"What? Why?" I asked Nat calmly, not wanting to betray anything.

Nat only shrugged indifferently. "Dunno. It just can't be true that you don't have a crush."

I kept my cool as I said, "Well, it is."

"Maybe," Nat said, "but I don't believe it."

"Well, you're wrong," I said a little too quickly.

She laughed, unbothered by my defensiveness. "Okay. It's just my opinion."

My cheeks were flaming as I looked to the fire with embarrassment.

"Doesn't matter anyway," Nat added as an afterthought, enjoying tormenting me. "There'd be no way of you letting your crush know. It's not like they're here, right?"

I hoped Jackie couldn't feel the heat exuding from my skin as I sat there silently, distracting myself with my bottle of water and unable to respond to Nat's teasing. Thankfully, the subject was changed with the next person's turn, and I reminded myself to kill Nat later. She was enjoying this a little too much.

Once we'd gone around the circle once, it was getting late and a little nippy outside, so a few girls began to leave. Nat was one of them, winking at me playfully as she walked past, and just as I rolled my eyes, Jackie looked to me with confusion.

"What was that about?"

"Just Nat being Nat," I mumbled.

Unconvinced, she continued to stare at me with furrowed brows. "What was she doing earlier? Why did she say you were lying?"

"What?" I said, hoping to buy some time as I thought of a reason, because I definitely didn't expect her to say anything about it. "Oh, nothing. She was just trying to be funny."

Jackie licked her lips before pursing them. I thought she'd drop it, but then she narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously.

"Is it Nat? Your supposed crush?"

I almost choked on my spit. "What?"

Her expression softened. "Is that why she was teasing you? Because you like her?"

Shaking my head instantly, I said, "No, no. That's literally not it at all. If anything, Nat is a pain in my arse."

Jackie hummed quietly, looking back at the fire which was on its way to burning out. I exhaled with relief, finding it ironic that she thought it was Nat who I liked. Oh, how wrong she was.

"So, whose toothbrush was it?" I asked, changing the subject, knowing she was lying earlier.

She paused. "Misty's."

I snorted with amusement. "Yeah, she would've killed you if she found out."

Jackie smiled in agreement, hiding her laugh. I couldn't seem to look away, lost in her stunning profile, lit up by the fire. It was deja vu. Her blonde hair appeared golden, her eyes a kaleidoscope of green and brown, and her lips... they were pink and soft and I wanted to kiss her again, just like last time.

She suddenly turned to look at me, soft smile gracing her lips, and I was too warm in this blanket, our bodies so close that I wouldn't be surprised if she could feel the heat from my skin, a consequence of how nervous she was making me with a simple glance. All I had to do was lean in, but I couldn't.

"I think you're lying too," she muttered with amusement.

Dumbfounded, I asked, "What?"

She clarified, "About not having a crush."

I raised my eyebrows, making her chuckle quietly before patting my leg.

"C'mon, it's cold," she said, before standing up and leaving me with me the blanket, probably assuming I would follow her.

But I was too surprised at what she'd said. That was a hint, right? She knew? She knew I liked her?

Should I have kissed her?

—

I wet some scrap material in the lake, my only source for something cold in the wilderness, and carefully wrapped my broken but healing arm in it. It acted as a terrible ice pack, but I sighed with relief at the cool feeling.

It had been a month and a half since we'd been stranded, a month and a half since my arm broke. I couldn't be sure it was healing correctly, since it still hurt when I moved it and looked a little weird, but the swelling was gone and I didn't need to rely so much on the limited medication we had.

Still, I couldn't do everything I wanted to and I really missed having two working arms. Even now, as I looked out at the lake and saw some of the others swimming in the water, I was jealous. God, I was so bored. Even a swim would be nice, but I physically couldn't.

Instead, I took a spot by the shore and laid on my back, using my arm to shield the sun from my eyes and have a little nap. I didn't completely doze off, just enough to tune out my surroundings for a little while, but then I felt a shoe gently kick at my leg.

"Huh? What?" I asked tiredly, lowering my arm.

Jackie was stood above me, eager smile on her face. I hated the way the butterflies began to swirl in my stomach, all because the sun crafted her silhouette so perfectly. Stupid. Crush.

"I've got a surprise for you," she said.

I sat upright, rubbing my eye. "What does that even mean?"

"Come find out," she exclaimed, before grabbing my hand without warning and pulling me up.

"Jackie–"

"Close your eyes," she instructed with a suppressed grin.

I gave her a disapproving look. "Seriously?"

She shook my arm encouragingly. "C'mon! You're gonna love it. I hope."

Very curious and also still a little out of it from my nap, I decided to entertain her and closed my eyes. She didn't let go of my hand as she dragged me somewhere carefully. I wasn't sure where at first, but then the ground was full of grass and sticks, and leaves were skimming my bare arms the further she led me, and I guessed we were back in the woods.

"Okay, we're here," she said suddenly, stopping abruptly. "Open."

I sighed, opening my eyes and blinking a few times. We were at the usual spot we played acorn soccer in, and I didn't know what the surprise was, but then I saw it. It was some sort of goal or net made of sticks twisted together in an awkwardly shaped dome, about the height of my knee and the width of my outstretched arms.

"What is this?" I asked with an amazed smile, running forward to study it closely.

"You gotta have a target, right?"

I laughed. "This is sick, Jackie!"

She chuckled from behind me. "I'm glad you like it."

"Wait," I realised, turning around to look at her. "Is this what you've been doing?"

It explained why she would sometimes return to the cabin looking a little messy, but I never expected her to be building this. DIY wasn't really her thing.

"Why? You been keeping tabs?" she teased, crossing her arms.

I sighed softly, thinking back to the first time I'd said that to her. Funnily enough, in this very spot.

"You're such an idiot," I said, rolling my eyes playfully, before moving forward to hug her.

She returned it before asking, "Wanna test it out?"

I stared at her with an obvious look. "Duh!"

She grinned and we returned to our usual positions for acorn soccer, though this time we had an actual 'net' and it raised the stakes in the best way possible. I still couldn't believe she'd done this for me.

As I dribbled the acorn 'ball', throwing in some fancy footwork just to annoy Jackie, she put her foot out and I tripped over it, hitting the ground instantly. It didn't hurt, though was definitely surprising, but I thought it would be funny to make Jackie feel bad anyway.

"Ow!" I shouted, rolling onto my back and pretending to clutch my broken arm.

Her expression transformed into one of concern as she gasped. "Oh, shit, are you okay?! I didn't mean to–"

I pushed my foot out slightly before she could finish, easily knocking her forward onto the ground, landing right next to me with a thud. Laughter spilled from my mouth almost instantly, only increasing when she lifted her head to playfully glare at me, a dirt mark on her cheek.

"You asked for it," I said knowingly, before sitting upright.

I offered her my hand as she sat up too, legs intertwined with mine as she wiped her hands onto her shorts.

"Did I actually hurt you?" she asked, tilting her head towards me with a smile.

"You did not," I assured her with amusement, making her sigh with defeat.

"Not funny," she pointed out, which was hard to believe when her eyes were sparkling with anything but seriousness.

I snickered, before my eyes fell to the dirt mark on her cheek. "You've got a little something..."

Motioning to my cheek, she furrowed her brows and lifted her hand to her own to try and get it, but she missed.

"What?"

"Just right–"

"Here?"

I scoffed lightheartedly before using my thumb to get rid of it for her, wiping it away in a few swipes. I had to cup her jaw as I did, not even realising what I was doing until she exhaled softly and her breath dusted my lips. I paused, eyes flickering to hers, and that feeling came back, along with the nerves that always accompanied them. She looked between my eyes before hers fell to my lips, and mine did the same. I wanted to lean in, so so badly, but as usual, my body became paralysed with fear. Why was this so hard?

Like the wimp I was, I was about to let go of her jaw and pull away, ready to pretend this never happened. But she surprised me when she spoke up.

"Just do it."

I blinked, surprised, briefly meeting her half-lidded gaze, and that was all the confirmation I needed. Pushing away my fears, I finally leaned in, kissing her. She sighed into my mouth, moving her hand to the back of my neck to pull me even closer, and I had goosebumps all over at the feeling of her lips on mine. It was slow, long-awaited and wonderful, and I regretted not making a move sooner.

When we pulled apart, my heart was racing and I opened my eyes, only to be submerged in pools of hazel.

"Getting a kiss from you is like pulling teeth, I swear," she murmured, lips curving into a satisfied smile.

Flushing with embarrassment, I cleared my throat and let go of her. "Nothing stopped you from making the first move, y'know."

"And do all the work?" she asked rhetorically. "I left so many hints. I thought you would've taken them."

"I wasn't sure," I admitted, lips still tingling. She rolled her eyes teasingly, but I continued, "I couldn't be sure. Not with you. Not for me."

"You still sound doubtful," she noticed, smile fading a little.

I wasn't sure what to say because a small part of me still was. Accepting that Jackie Taylor had wanted me to kiss her was something I wasn't sure I'd ever get used to.

Suddenly, she kissed me again, brief but enough to have me second guessing my own name. When she pulled away, a knowing smile was on her lips.

"How about now?" she asked, and all I could do was swallow hard with warm cheeks.

She laughed before helping me up off the ground. We dusted ourselves off and then she held out her hand towards me.

"Let's head back," she said, and I smiled as I accepted her hand.

We walked back to the cabin, me personally feeling like I was on cloud nine because the girl I liked actually liked me back.

"So, the thing with Nat," Jackie brought up as we headed back. "The crush and the lying thing. That was about me?"

Oh, God, why was everything so embarrassing?

"Yes," I admitted reluctantly. "She was teasing me because she knew I wouldn't make a move."

This made Jackie chuckle. "She wasn't wrong."

I shot her a sideways glance. "Thanks for the reminder."

"Oh, c'mon," she said between laughter, "don't pout."

I rolled my eyes lightheartedly. "It's fine, don't worry. Let's just all laugh at Y/N because she couldn't kiss the girl, ha, ha, ha."

Jackie kept laughing, though I knew it wasn't out of spite. Besides, at least I'd finally made a move. That was all that mattered.

At least, it did for the next two minutes until we reached the cabin and I saw Nat sat on the steps, taking note of the two of us holding hands.

"And here we go," I whined to myself.

Jackie's smile, still on her face from the amusement of my inability to make the first move, faded as she glanced between Nat and I.

"Hey, Nat!" she called to the blonde, confusing me and earning her attention.

As soon as Nat looked our way properly, Jackie let go of my hand and kissed me, cupping my face between her hands  and taking her time. I was so surprised when she pulled away, as was Nat, not expecting her to be so outright with it.

"What–"

"Anything to add?" Jackie cut me off, instead looking to Nat with a quirked brow that dared her to tease me.

Nat shook her head. "Not at all. Huh."

Satisfied, Jackie smiled sweetly and I was sure my face was hot with embarrassment. I probably should've seen that coming, but also, how could I have?

"Good job," Nat said to me as she walked past us, impressed smile on her lips.

I blinked, before looking to Jackie. "Erm, thanks?"

"Hey, she may have been right, but only I get to tease you about it," she said in a way that sounded like she was joking but I knew she wasn't.

I breathed out, small smile on my face. I may have been the shy one, but at least I had Jackie to rely on. It's not like I'd ever have to make the first move again anyway. The hard part was over.

[justabigassnerd]

Accidents Happen

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Word count - 3,229

Warnings - car accident, mentions of concussion, injured ribs, hospitals, doctors, incorrect medical discussions, angst, fluff

Summary - after a minor car accident, you try to keep it from your dad, just for him to find out the moment you get to the hospital

A/N - hey y'all it's time for a new part of Hangman Junior! I hope y'all enjoy and once again I'm sorry for how long it's taking me to get out fics, the old motivation is really coming and going. anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

After getting your driving licence, your dad and Bradley surprised you with a car of your own. It wasn’t anything magnificent, but it was yours and you were in love with it. Having your own car gave you some more freedom, and you loved getting to go on drives to clear your head sometimes.

One weekend, while your dad and Bradley were meeting with the Daggers to watch a football game at Javy’s house, you decided to go for a drive. It was a bright sunny day in Miramar, and you had your windows down as you listened to your music at a low volume as you took in the views of the place you were lucky enough to call home. As you pulled up to a red light, you drummed your fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song you were listening to as you hummed along too, eyes fixed on the bright red light ahead of you.

As you reached out to adjust your volume dial, a violent crash sent your car skidding forward a couple of meters as your head smacked the steering wheel and your seatbelt tightened around your ribs in an attempt to protect you. When you sat up, heart pounding in your chest, you looked in your rearview mirror, expecting to catch a glimpse of the person who rammed the back of your car but instead, you saw a blur of colour fly by your window indicating whoever had hit you was now fleeing the scene. As you watched the car drive away, you suddenly became conscious of the fact you were still in the middle of the road so you found a nearby car park and pulled into the first spot you could find to recover. As you sat in the car park, your adrenaline began to wear off and the pain started to kick in as the events of what had just happened sunk in. Your head felt like it was splitting in two, your side ached with every breath you took, and you felt nauseous. Panic began to grab at you as everything sank in. You were panicking because you got into an accident. You were panicking because you couldn’t call your dad because you knew how much he’d worry, and you didn’t want him getting upset or mad that you crashed your car. You fumbled for your phone, finding the contact of the one person who you knew wasn’t with your dad and Bradley which meant he could help you and not tell your dad. Pressing on the contact, you lift your phone to your ear and listen to each ring with bated breath.

“Hey, y/n/n.” You could practically hear Maverick’s smile as he picks up the phone and hearing him so happy made tears well in your eyes about how fast you were about to disappoint him.

“Mav, I need help.” Your teary voice wiped any smile that was on his face as he sat up from where he was lounging on the sofa, a seriousness coming over him as Penny watched the switch, concerned for what was going on.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Maverick asked worriedly, hearing you try and contain your tears.

“Promise you won’t tell my dad or Bradley?” What you said made Maverick all the more worried. He knew you were responsible enough to not get into serious trouble, but he also knew you panicked when something happened.

“I promise. Now tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” Maverick says hurriedly, growing more worried for you by the second. After taking a shuddering breath, you tell Maverick everything that had happened. After hearing everything, Maverick was on his feet in seconds with Penny following after him.

“Okay, I’m going to come and get you and we’ll go to the hospital to get you checked over.” Maverick says calmly, gesturing for Penny to follow him which she does so, grabbing her car keys as she goes.

“I’m going to stay on the phone with you. Just tell me where you are, and we’ll be right there.” Maverick then says as he climbs into the passenger seat and Penny gets behind the wheel.

True to his word. Maverick stayed on the phone with you the whole time and when you saw Penny’s car pull up you could’ve cried even more. You climb out of the car haphazardly, nearly falling flat on your face as your vision swims and another wave of nausea strikes you.

“Whoa, easy there y/n.” Maverick says, steadying you easily, an arm wrapped around you as he glances over at Penny who’s inspecting the damage on the back of your car.

“Did this happen here?” Penny asks, crouching as she her hand ghosts over the damage done to the back of your car, missing you shake your head, but Maverick doesn’t.

“It happened in the road, and I figured moving was the best option, so I wasn’t blocking traffic.” You mumble, looking down at the floor as Maverick’s head turns to look at you so fast you were sure he cricked his neck in the process.

“You drove? y/n/n that’s not safe sweetheart.” Maverick scolds gently, feeling guilty for telling you off but not wanting you to do something like this again.

“I just didn’t want to be in the way.” You say quietly, as Maverick lets out a soft sigh, shoulder sagging as he exhales.

“If there’s ever a next time, which I hope there isn’t, you should stay put. You don’t know if you’re injured and moving around can disturb them or if you’ve injured your head, you could potentially pass out.” Maverick explains, never once sounding harsh or condescending.

“I’m going to call a tow truck and then we’ll get you to the hospital, okay?” Penny says, crossing to you and gaining your attention, making you nod, immediately regretting the action when yet another wave of nausea strikes you.

“Are you feeling okay?” Maverick asks worriedly, not missing the way your jaw clenched after you nodded your head.

“Just feel a bit nauseous and my ribs hurt a little but I’m fine I promise.” You insist, trying to downplay everything to prevent Maverick from getting any more worried than he already was. But Maverick was already worrying about you, especially with you admitting you’ve sustained some injuries. He knew you were downplaying everything and was willing the tow truck to get here as quickly as possible so he could take you to the hospital. Like some sort of miracle descended on him, the tow truck arrived in good time and the second your car was hauled off, you got into Penny’s car, and she began the drive to the hospital.

When you arrived at the hospital, Maverick kept an arm around you just in case despite your insistence that you were fine. You approached the receptionist who looked up at the three of you, waiting for you to speak.

“Hi, she got into a car accident, and she needs to be checked out.” Maverick says, pointing at you as the receptionist types on her computer.

“Name and description of injuries please.” She says simply, looking to you for an answer.

“y/n Seresin. I hit my head on the steering wheel and my ribs hurt too.” You say, glancing down at the floor to avoid anyone’s gaze.

“And are you two her parents?” The receptionist was now looking between Maverick and Penny, expecting an answer.

“No we’re not. We’re close friends of her parents though.” Penny explains, watching as the receptionist types away on her computer before looking back at her.

“Why don’t you go and wait in the waiting room, dear. I need to speak to these two.” The receptionist says with a gentle smile aimed at you as you nod shyly, watching as you head to the waiting room before turning back to Maverick and Penny.

“I will have to call her parents since you two are not immediate family. They’re not abroad, are they?” The receptionist states, pulling up your emergency contacts and finding Jake’s number.

“We understand. Her parents aren’t abroad no, you should be able to contact them easily.” Maverick explains, nodding at the receptionist’s words and watching as she picks up the phone, dialling Jake’s number and holding the phone up to her ear.

As Jake sat down after cheering a scored touchdown, he felt his phone vibrate and when he pulled it out of his pocket, he raised an eyebrow at the unknown number and got back onto his feet.

“I’m just going to step outside and take this, I’ll be back.” Jake says, holding his phone up and excusing himself to step out into Javy’s back garden for some privacy.

“Hello?” Jake says, accepting the call and lifting his phone up to his ear.

“Hello. Is this Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin?” The voice on the other end of the line asks, making Jake a little concerned at the formality but kept his cool.

“Yes, this is. Who’s calling?” He asks, fighting the urge to pace along the patio to ease his nerves. When the person on the other end of the line introduces themself as a receptionist of the local hospital and Jake begins to feel his blood run cold.

“Your daughter, y/n Seresin has been in a car accident and has been brought to the hospital. She’s conscious and doesn’t have any major injuries but she’s currently waiting for a doctor to check her over.” The receptionist explained, and Jake swore he could’ve collapsed there and then, his free hand flew out to brace himself against one of the garden chairs that sat on Javy’s patio, keeping him upright as he processed what he was just told.

“I’ll head over now.” Is all Jake could manage to say, hanging up and making his way back into the house, a hand immediately digging in his pocket for the keys to his truck.

“I’m so sorry guys, I have to go.” Jake says, making his way into the living room to apologise for his early departure. A wave of joking complaints left his coworker's mouths, but Bradley saw the worry on his husband’s face and got up and crossed to him, gently taking Jake’s hand in his.

“What’s wrong, Jake?” Bradley asks quietly, his thumb ghosting along the back of Jake’s knuckles in an attempt to calm Jake.

“y/n’s in the hospital.” Jake manages to say, looking at Bradley as his concern levels rise.

“We’re going to the hospital right now.” Bradley says, glancing over his shoulder to say a quick goodbye to everyone before tugging Jake out of the house and taking the keys from his hand.

“I’ll drive.” Bradley says softly, knowing that no matter how much he may be panicking, it’s ten times worse for Jake and therefore puts him in no state to drive. Jake opened his mouth to argue but quickly closed it when Bradley just raised an eyebrow. Jake climbed into the passenger seat while Bradley got behind the wheel and began the drive to the hospital, both of them thinking about what state you were in.

When they got to the hospital, Jake was getting out of the truck as quick as humanly possible with Bradley hot on his heels as they both made their way into the hospital and approached the front desk.

“Hi, I got a call that my daughter y/n Seresin has been brought here after a car accident.” Jake says to the receptionist, noticing Bradley’s widened eyes out of the corner of his eye.

“Car accident?” Bradley asks in a whisper, immediately more concerned about your well-being.

“Oh yes, I believe a doctor just took her to be assessed so you’re free to wait in the waiting room and they’ll come and get you when they’re done.” The receptionist says, pointing in the direction of the waiting room and the two men head in the direction she pointed, entering the waiting room and immediately noticing Maverick and Penny.

“Mav?” Bradley questions as they lock eyes and Maverick leaps to his feet to cross to them.

“Hey, you two.” Maverick greets, trying to keep a calm tone while standing in front of the two panicking parents.

“What are you doing here?” Bradley then asked, confused as to why Maverick was in the hospital in the first place and as he asked the question it clicked into place for Jake.

“Mav, did you know our daughter was in hospital and didn’t call us?” Jake asks, his jaw clenching as he glares angrily at the man stood in front of him.

“She asked me not to tell you. If she was in a worse state, I would’ve absolutely called you without hesitation.” Maverick tries to explain, holding his hands up to try and keep the peace between them.

“You should’ve called me.” Jake says lowly, his usually bright eyes growing darker as his glare intensifies.

“I would’ve if the receptionist hadn’t beat me to it. I couldn’t call you in front of her and stress her out when she was hurt and upset. She didn’t tell me why she didn’t want you to know but you won’t get an answer out of her with that mood. You can be mad at me all you want but don’t you dare take any of it out on her.” Maverick says, his tone beginning to match Jake’s as Bradley decides to step in, aware of the looks they’re beginning to get in the waiting room.

“You two need to calm down and be civil.” He whispers to the two. He understood Jake’s anger towards Maverick, but he knew there was nothing to gain from causing an argument in the middle of a hospital waiting room. Jake broke the apparent staring contest between him and Maverick, clearing his throat with a cough before looking back at Maverick.

“She’s really not too badly hurt?” Jake asks as the three move to sit down alongside Penny.

“She’s been awake and alert the whole time. From what she’s told me I think she might have a slight concussion or something and some kind of injury to her ribs but I’m no doctor.” Maverick explains to Jake, not missing the way he lets out a small sigh of relief, but Maverick knew Jake would only be okay when he saw you with his own eyes.

“Thank you for getting her here. Both of you.” Jake then thanks both Maverick and Penny who immediately try to tell him not to thank them, insisting they’d do it anytime. Before another word could be spoken, a nurse comes into the waiting room and calls for your family and Jake and Bradley are on their feet in seconds, immediately crossing to the nurse and enquiring about your wellbeing.

“The doctor is with her now and he will explain everything, but we’ve had to admit y/n for the night just for observation.” The nurse explains as both Jake and Bradley nod, glancing back at Maverick who silently encourages them to go with the nurse with a soft smile before they look at the nurse and ask to be taken up to your room. The nurse leads the way up to your room and when they enter the room Jake and Bradley are relieved to see you sat up in bed a shy smile on your face when you see them.

“Oh, thank god.” Jake mutters, crossing to your side as quickly as possible and planting at least ten gentle kisses on top of your head.

“Dad, I’m fine.” You grumble, clearly embarrassed at the attention he is giving you, glancing over to Bradley for help.

“Jake, let's give her some space and listen to the doctor, shall we?” Bradley urges softly, taking a seat while Jake does the same, both of them looking to the doctor who clears his throat.

“y/n here has suffered a mild concussion from the accident, nothing too serious but we’ve admitted her for the night just to be on the safe side, and she’s also cracked a couple of ribs as well due to her seatbelt doing its job. We’ve administered pain relief so she should be okay but if there’s a sudden flare-up of pain or it seems the pain relief is wearing off you can press the call button and a nurse will see to her.” The doctor explains everything you’ve already been told to your parents and after getting confirmation that everything is okay, the doctor and nurse leave the room.

“Did Mav tell you?” You ask quietly, glancing down at the thin sheet covering you and fiddling with the corner.

“No, the hospital called me. Mav told me you asked him not to tell us.” Jake says gently, not an ounce of anger in his voice as he carefully takes your hand.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears springing to your eyes while Bradley and Jake exchange a worried look.

“You don’t need to apologise, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Bradley reassures you softly, his gentle smile never once leaving his face as he speaks.

“But I got into an accident.” You mumble, briefly looking up at your dads before returning your attention to the corner of the sheet again.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Bradley then suggested, gaining your attention and both men listened carefully as you explained that you were waiting at a red light and got rear-ended before the driver took off. You didn’t miss the joint sharp inhale that came from Bradley and Jake when you explained that you drove to the nearest car park to call Maverick.

“I’m sorry. I ruined my car. I’ll save up money to pay for it I swear.” You try apologising again after finishing your story.

“Sweetheart, we don’t care about the car.” Jake starts, being cut off by you shaking your head.

“No, I ruined it.” You insist, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“I don’t care about the car, I promise. A car is replaceable. You, however, are not. I’d much rather have to just get a whole new car than lose you, okay?” Jake says firmly yet softly, reaching out to gently wipe your tears away.

“Don’t worry about the car. We’ll get it fixed or get a new car if we need. We just care about you right now.” Bradley chimes in rounding the bed so he can sit on your other side, taking your other hand and running his thumb across the back of it.

“You just need to focus on resting up, okay?” Jake urges you softly, wiping the remainder of your tears off your face and smiling softly at you and Jake swore he could see the tension leaving your body after letting out a soft exhale.

As you relax back into your pillows, you let the relief sink in that your dads aren’t mad at you and grateful they care as much as they do about you. Despite that, your eyes flick between the two men, before your eyes flick up to the tv which when you had flipped through the channels had found nothing interesting and so left you to come up with a way to create your own entertainment using your dad’s.

“So… how was what you saw of the game? Eagles versus Cowboys, right?”

taglist (comment or ask to be tagged):

@zbeez-outlet @kaceywithak @tsnelf7 @starkleila @cassadilasworld @shanimallina87 @madstxo @chaoticassidy @padsdarlg @lauraseresin @alohastitch0626 @angelbabyange @kmc1989

[chaussetteblanche]

the view

pairing : miles morales x gn!reader

word count : 1k

summary : spider-man joins you when pondering life one evening at the top of a building

warnings : swearing

Your feet dangled above the bustling city of New York. You leaned back on your palms, staring up at the sky and wishing you could see stars instead of the orange glow. You chest felt tight and your eyes were runny. You felt like you needed a breath of fresh air, but even one of the highest buildings in the capital of the state wasn't enough.

"Hey, uh, you okay ?" A voice came from behind you, startling you slightly. You sighed and looked down at your swinging feet, the soles of your shoes reflecting the lights below.

"I'm not going to jump, if that's what you're worried about."

The person behind you moved forward and you heard the faint rustling of fabric as they sat down next to you. You were surprised to find none other than Spiderman sitting bent forward, elbows leaning on his knees at your side. His suit was dirty, gray covering black and red.

"Tough night ?" you asked, noticing the way his eyes dropped and his back hunched.

"You could say that," he spoke softly and paused, as if debating whether to tell you something or not, "three different people tried to kill me in the span of a few hours." You let out a small sigh, not so sure of what to say. No one had ever tried to kill you.

"That sucks,"

"Yeah," he chuckled wetly, "yeah, it really does." You heard his sniff once, white eyes scanning the city below. You wondered what was going through his mind.

You leaned back and laid down, crossing your arms behind your head. Your gaze fixed steadily on the unnatural colour of the sky, making out a few sparse stars. You felt very small. And your problems very big.

"Do you ever feel like it all gets too much ? Kinda like you can't breathe ?" you asked. He laid down next to you, one arm behind his head.

"Like you're never gonna get out of it ? That it's never going to end ?" he paused, "yeah, sometimes."

"How can you feel so small when everything else feels so- huge ? And destructive and consuming ? It doesn't make any sense."

"What's up with you ?" he asked, turning his head to the side. You looked into his white eyes briefly before turning back to the sky.

"Family, money... Life, I guess," you chuckled humourlessly. "My parents have been separated for years now and they're finally getting a divorce. But... I still feel like I'm taking sides or betraying one of them whenever I do something. I hate it. And I just want to protect my brother from all of it. But I also want to move out. Just get the fuck away from all of it, you know ? But I can't bear the thought of leaving him alone." Confessing to him felt strangely freeing.

"That sucks," he repeated your words from earlier.

"Yeah," you let out a small laugh, wiping your eyes, "it does suck,"

"Someone once told me that you have to live your life for you, you can't live it for anyone else. Even for your brother. People... they'll try to fit you into these boxes and tell you what to do, what's expected of you depending on this and that, but fuck that. Fuck it all. You have to do what's best for you, you know ? To hell with the rest of it. You're the only person who's always gonna be by your side, you gotta look out for you, you know what I mean ? Don't mind the rest. Move out if that's what best for you,"

You turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. A tear rolled down your cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb.

"And moving out doesn't mean that you'll never see your brother again, will it ?" he added. You inhaled shakily.

"Yeah, you're right." You wiped your eyes and chuckled. "That was some deep shit, man," He laughed and watched you as you sat up.

"We've all got our demons to slay."

"I'm Y/N, by the way," you extended your hand to him.

"Mi- Spiderman." He shook your hand and grinned at you, thankful you couldn't see his red cheeks at the slip-up.

"What did you come up here for, anyway ?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"Just- came to think. I like to get above it all. It's quiet up here. Like-"

"A breath of fresh air," you spoke. Your eyes locked and he smiled softly.

"Yeah, exactly."

"What do you see when you look up at the sky ?" you asked after a few minutes of silence. You heard him inhale slowly before answering.

"People I've loved. People I've lost. Battles I've lost. Battles I've won. Opportunities I took and ones I didn't."

"I wish you could see the stars," you both spoke simultaneously, before gasping and chuckling.

"And what about when you look down at the city ?"

"Pressure," he answered immediately, "I see people. People that need my help, my saving. People that need me. Some that I won't be able to save,"

"What about the ones you've saved ? Who are thankful for you ? Who owe their lives to you ?" you asked, frowning slightly. Spiderman was quiet for a moment before humming.

"Yeah, you're right,"

"What do you see ?" he asked after a while, the buzzing of the city below filling the comfortable silence.

"I feel incredibly small when I look up at the sky. Like a speck of dust, really. But I like it, it brings me back to reality. And the reality of my life. Despite everything, I'm still privileged, I've got a family who loves me, no serious money problems and good grades at school." He nodded. "When I look down at the city, I realize everyone has problems. Even Spiderman ! It makes me realize I'm not alone, I guess."

He smiled at your answer. "I like that view."

"So do I, I think."

He stood up and brushed himself off. "Well, if you ever wanna share your view again, I'll be here," he assured.

You smiled and nodded. "You got it, Spiderman,"

Little did you know that that was the blossoming of a beautiful friendship.

[marvelgirlstories]

Hey my lovelies, ❤️

I don't know how good this is as I didn't proofread.❤️🫶🏻 Anyways I present to you...

Stucky Fluff Alphabet

Warnings: One small hint of sex

They love everything about you, but they love seeing you train. They love how focused you get.

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

They would love to, but it could be a bit hard with missions.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

I think Steve would normally face you and Bucky would big spoon you. It would change from time to time.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Old fashioned. Restaurant dates. Picnics on rooftops. But also little things like making dinner together and walks in the park. (Does that count as a date?)

E = Everything (You are my___ (e.g. my life, my world)

Bucky: My light

Steve: My angel

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Well the both liked you from the day they met you. They talked about you together and realized that they both had feelings.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Steve is normally more gentle than Bucky. They try to be, but it doesn't all ways stay that way.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

Bucky will hold hands with you tightly whenever possible. Steve would lightly hold and/or run circles on your hand for comfort.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

They were impressed. You shocked them in the best possible way.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

Yes. They both do, even though they know you would never leave them. But normally it happens when a stranger tries to flirt with you.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

How:

You almost always had your arms around each other.

First kiss:

They took you out and explained that they both like you. And then you kissed whoever was nearer to you, before moving on to whoever was next.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

Why do I feel like Steve said it first? Like on a date he would suddenly say and surprise Bucky because they hadn't talked about it before. But he would follow soon after and then you would too.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

Your first date, it was overly romantic and old-fashioned (in a good way). A picnic, fun, the sunset, jokes, a evening walk, paddling in a river.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

They don't normally, but if they feel like it ... be prepared.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Blue 💙🩵💙

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Bucky: Doll

Steve: Sweetheart

Sometimes Love or Darling, but not very often.

They still call each other Punk and Buck.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

Heh. What can I say. They still live with that 40s feeling. (Don't really know the right word to express it) You would sometimes add 40s things to your relationship to change it up a little.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

Hear me out... picnic in the rain. (I know, a lot of picnics) But it's so much fun. You can watch the rain and eat your favorite foods. If you don't feel like it, you bake and/or cuddle in bed.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

They will do anything and everything to make you feel better.

If you want to cheer them up, cuddles is always an answer. They don't like to show when they are sad, but you learned the signs.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

If you wanted to talk, there was loads of things and you would never run out of words. But silence is nice too.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

After a mission a bath is always nice. Bath bombs, bath salts, the whole ordeal. Sometimes it would become something more... Cuddles afterwards. At least it was relaxing.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

They like to show you off to the public, and say you're theirs. PDA!!! Even as small as a forehead kiss.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

After a date, alone somewhere you all love. They will each have a ring and take turns with a speech.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

They love 40s music, but when you showed them this one they were in love...

All of me by John Legend

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

All the time! They both see the three of you living happily together. If they were alone, it will be a topic of discussion.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

You don't really need one, because you are perfectly happy. It would be a problem when you went on missions.

My first non Stole my heart Stucky fic. I would think this could be linked to the later parts of Stole my heart. (I didn't mean to write it for that, but it kinda fits) 😂

Bye 😘❤️

[vintagemulti]

rose coloured glasses

pairings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader

desc: welcome back to the land of the living. are you ready to fight for your life?

warnings: injury, blood, angst, swearing, smoking, sex mentions, death, murder, reader is a killer, reader is a fairly bad person, absolutely heart breaking angst because i am a sadist

a/n: sigh this took so long to write sorry guys, two more parts after this then it’s done!! remember to reblog as it does far more than likes

series masterlist

masterlist

the breeze blew your hair slightly, but it wasn’t a cold breeze. more summery, warmer. if it was the middle of summer and a hot day, it probably would have comforted you. but it didn’t - not right now.

you were afraid, alone, in a place that seemed like it went on forever and ever without stopping to catch its breath.

“is this…?” you almost whispered, looking around.

hathor seemed to understand what you were asking anyway. “the field of reeds, yes.”

it took a breath out of you, that somehow by some miracle, you had made it to a kind of heaven. you never expected this - not one bit. you were sure you had a first class ticket, straight to hell.

“it seems that in reliving your most traumatic experiences-”

“i got over it, yeah.” you finished for her, turning back to look at her. “so is that it? am i- fuck, am i stuck here? forever?”

a beat.

“hathor?” you were fully facing her now, body parallel to hers.

“it’s risky, y/n. there’s no guarantee you’d make it.”

your head tilted. “but there’s a chance?”

“yes,” hathor breathed. “yes, i suppose. if you can make it to the gates of osiris and he choses to let you pass, then you can go back to earth. if not… if not, you’ll end up the same way as if your scales didn’t balance.”

it took you only a few moments to weigh up your options. stay here, in this beautiful place forever, or go back to your life and find your husband? or die - again - trying? you were willing to take those odds.

“take me back,” you mumbled, nodding. “take me back, please.”

just as the words had left your mouth, the world around you changed once again. it went back to the familiar purple-orange skies, laced with clouds. you never expected to be happy to see it - but you were. you were relived that maybe, just maybe, you’d make it back.

while you were standing on the wooden deck of a ship the last time you were here, this time you were surrounded in sand, your white canvas shoes bright against the golden colour.

that’s when it kicked in - your fight or flight. you had been standing in one spot for too long, fuck, were you even trying to get back to your husband? run. it was the first thing your mind told you to do - run, and run until you’re at the gates. run.

-

time didn’t pass. it was paralysed - hanging in the air and suffocating everyone in the room.

marc still held you, weeping into your body. steven stood completely still. what was he meant to do? he wasn’t built for this - in fact, part of him was that he was meant for the opposite - to forget that death even existed.

the silence encompassed the entire space, not even the occasional bang from a few floors up daring to enter the room.

“we-” layla was the first one to speak. “we should put her somewhere, marc, we can’t stay here.”

it seemed as though she was the only one thinking rationally, because marc shook his head vigorously, pulling you tighter into him.

marc, please. steven was thinking too. give me control, i’ll do it.

marc seemed to have been waiting for those words, and for the first time in a long time, marc was more than relived to give steven control of the body.

the weight of you was the first thing that shocked steven. he had held you before, felt your body weight on top of him more times than he could count, but this? this was different. you were completely limp, lighter, even. you had less blood inside you, steven knew that. but for a second - just a second - he would have thought your weight loss was a lack of soul. the life, gone.

“come on,” layla put a hand on his shoulder. “there’s a nicer place than this.”

standing up, steven shifted you in his arms so he could carry you bridal-style. he was covered in your blood, from his hands all the way to his shoes. god, what he would do to go back in time and swap places with you. what he would do to stop marc’s anger, because the last thing he ever felt towards you was rage. pure, utter, disgusting rage. steven hated it.

every single bit of it.

layla led the way, down the hall and back down the stairs. she knew harrow wouldn’t be there. why would he? half way through his speech she had worked out what he was trying to do - pin everyone against y/n and then let them find her body. make them feel guilt, sadness, anger - then they would be easier to get rid of.

all the rage she felt for you had now transferred to harrow. she was ready to kill him - truly. layla would let marc and steven mourn you, while she would avenge you.

the room she led steven to was a room that looked totally out of place in a pyramid - it was covered in flowers. before steven could even ask, she explained;

“no, these haven’t been here forever. the ground underneath here’s fertile, so flowers bloom. and because there’s a water source, the survive.”

steven nodded, looking around. almost every kind and colour of flower was present, from red roses to baby’s breath. there was a puddle of water - well, bigger than a puddle. not quite a pond, though.

it’s like this place was made for you, he thought.

“i’ll, um,” layla cleared her throat. “i’ll leave you.”

he whispered a thank you, but he wasn’t sure any words even came out. he wasn’t sure he could form any words right now.

-

“fuck,” you mumbled, the various weeds in the sand almost tripping you up.

the gates were in sight now - only a hundred or so meters away. you hoped to any god that someone - anyone - would give you some sympathy and let you pass.

as you moved towards the gates, the ground seemed to solidify, turning to a stone-like pavement under your feet the closer you got.

giant was the first word that came to your mind. huge, giant, looming gates. they looked smaller from further away, and as you stood almost underneath them, they must have been at least two hundred feet tall.

you came face to face with a set of doors as tall as your house, bright white light seeping from the bottom. not really knowing what to do, you brought a hand up to knock the door.

“y/n l/n.” a voice boomed before you managed to knock.

the volume made you flinch backwards, but the voice itself wasn’t particularly alarming - it sounded familiar, friendly almost.

“you weren’t due here for a long time yet,” it spoke as you looked for a source. “but i suppose no one really is. enter, y/n.”

white light engulfed you as the doors swung open, too bright for you to be able to see what you were walking into. blinking as you walked through, your eyes slowly adjusted to the light.

it was just that - light. a completely white room, so white that it was like colour never existed. you thought of that one scene from harry potter - something like that.

“now, hathor tells me you’ve come to plead your case, correct?”

“yeah,” your voice broke. “yeah.”

“alright, let me hear it.”

still looking for a source to the voice, your eyebrows furrowed. “sorry- um, what do you want to know, exactly?”

an apologetic sigh travelled across the room. “sorry, i forget that not everyone is as well versed in these proceedings as your husband.”

the thought of steven made your heart twinge.

“i am osiris, although i’m sure you gathered that. to be allowed passage back to the mortal world, you must prove to me that you a deserving of it.”

it was then that all the hope you had drained out of you. deserving? there were seven billion people more deserving than you.

“sound good? let’s start with good deeds. what have you done?”

“i-” you paused. what had you done? “i- um…”

“come on now,” the voice encouraged. “there’s got to be something. charity donations, saved lives?”

everything seemed to crumble around you. there really wasn’t anything. you’d spent your entire life as a bad person - fucking teachers, stealing, killing people. maybe what you really deserved was to be dragged back into the sand and stay there forever.

a tear fell, and you were quick to catch it.

“alright, i get it, tough question. what about you as a person?”

this was only getting harder - you as a person? should you tell him about all the times you’ve lied, every argument, every human being you’ve killed? it wouldn’t do you any good to lie right now, surely?

“please, i-” you couldn’t stop the lump in your throat. “this is pointless, i- please.”

a beat.

“why do you think this is pointless?”

you shook your head, not really knowing if someone was watching or not. “i amen’t… i’m not a great person, alright? it would be easier for both of us if you’d just let me-”

“but are you loved?”

the question took you by surprise. you paused, eyebrows furrowing. “what?”

“is there people who love you? would mourn you? would feel that by you being gone, their lives are worse?”

the first person you thought of was marc. then steven, and layla, your friends, coworkers- the lady across the street who’s cat you always fed while she was gone. they would mourn you.

“now,” osiris spoke. “now we might be getting somewhere. would someone mourn you, y/n?”

“i think so,” you nodded. “a few people.”

“a few people is better than none. would someone’s life be worst without you?”

it took everything in you to not laugh. you had always been the one to ruin lives, after all. “i mean, probably.”

“good. now let me ask you again, what good deeds have you done?”

you took a breath. “well, when i was younger, i used to babysit, um, before i got kicked out. and when i got kicked out i- like, i gave all my stuff to charity. i know it’s not a lot, but i think that’s good.”

osiris hummed. “alright. what about caring for someone, you ever do that?”

“yeah,” the thought brought a smile to your face. “my husband gets in fights a lot.”

“oh, yes,” he laughed. “thanks to one of our own, no doubt.”

“that old bird, yeah,” you mumbled, making him chuckle. “he always comes home bloody and bruised, so i was normally left to patch him up.”

“would he mourn you?”

something stung in your heart. you didn’t have to guess or use maybes this time. “yes.”

“then you might not be a lost cause after all - but, i have to say, y/n, overall it is not looking good for you.”

you had been expecting that. “how so?”

“well, you’ve killed over a hundred people. that’s - that’s a new record for someone your age. you’ve ruined lives, including your husbands. i mean, i don’t have to tell you what you did, but… y/n, why? why would you do that?”

“it’s… fuck, i feel awful for it,” you choked out. “it’s such a stupid reason.”

“but a reason nonetheless?”

sighing, you nodded. “bushman - raoul - he hated having to share the money with marc. he thought that marc was this total dick, who was never nice or considerate - a completely and utter cunt, really. at the time, i was dating anton, you’ll know all about that i’m sure.

“anton was the one who employed bushman, and marc. he wanted some relic from a temple, or something like that, and marc and raoul were the best on the scene - apart from me. it’s so fucking stupid, but…

“when i met bushman in that bar, anton and i were fighting. we always fought - all the time. he used to buy me shit and leave the price tag on to make me love him again, but this argument… this one was different, i mean.. he brought up my family, you know?

“so i was mad. seeing fucking red. so when i went to that bar, i saw the perfect opportunity to fuck things up for anton. get one of his crew to kill the other one? that would be a massive blow - i mean, he’d probably never see what he was aiming to get anyway, because bushman would have to go on the run. you don’t kill your partner, not in the mercenary world, anyway.

“and that’s what i did. i told bushman to kill marc, to just leave with the money. fuck - it was so stupid. it didn’t even fix anything, either. as soon as anton found out he went fucking mental. like, off the rails. screaming and yelling and punching walls. we broke up that night.

“and it wasn’t him who broke up with me, by the way. i was willing to apologise, but then he hit me. so it was game over.”

you took another breath. why did this still feel so raw? like it didn’t happen a decade ago?

“go on,” osiris prompted.

“that’s it. that’s why i did it. to get back at my boyfriend, who i ended up breaking up with a week later anyway. and look what it did, huh? fucked up everyones life.”

a moment of silence passed, you couldn’t quite tell if it was good silence or not.

“y/n,” osiris finally spoke. “all the memories you had to go through, i saw them as well. there’s things in there that you can’t explain. not just getting back at boyfriends - y/n, you’ve killed people. for the sake of killing people.”

you swallowed. had you really expected your shitty explanation to be enough? not really. you were what he made you out to be. a monster. the ruiner of lives, someone who only left death and sadness in her wake.

“i understand,” your voice was hoarse and gravelly, scratching its way up your throat. “please- please, just let me see him once more.”

“i’m afraid i can only show you what he’s doing at this moment, and he won’t be able to hear you, or see you. hathor can accompany you, and i will be watching.”

nodding, you watched the room around you shift and change, until you were standing in a completely different environment.

hathor was beside you once again, standing a few steps away. she looked almost disappointed, hurt that you hadn’t plead your case as well as you could have.

the room was completely out of place for where you assumed you were. the space was completely covered in greenery, flowers blooming from almost every corner and crack in the ground. there was a small well of water on the opposite side of the room, barely visible through the yellowed, dim lighting.

whatever this room was, it was beautiful.

footsteps broke your trance, your head snapping to the doorway.

it was layla who entered first, face blotchy and mascara slightly smudged under her eyes - with just that sight, you knew exactly what you were about to see.

steven stepped into the room, you in his arms. but you didn’t look at your body, only him. the way his hair was messy and tousled, his big brown eyes bloodshot and puffy, even his posture was different. shoulders slightly more slouched than normal, no longer a skip in his step.

it broke your heart.

the two came deeper into the room, steven pausing almost in the direct centre, never taking his eyes off of your body.

“i’ll, um,” layla cleared her throat. “i’ll leave you.”

if you hadn’t been listening carefully, you wouldn’t have heard steven’s almost nonexistent ‘thank you’, and for a moment you thought your mind was playing tricks on you. even his voice was different.

layla was also the first to leave, eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned and walked out of the room. you noticed her jaw clench on her way out, eyes filling with a familiar fire.

time stopped. steven stood, completely unmoving, for at least a minute. after what felt like a million years, he fell to his knees.

you rushed over to him, forgetting for a moment that he didn’t even know you were there.

steven moved your body, so you were laying flat on the grass-and-flower-covered floor, a small amount of your blood still spilling out and onto the daisies below you.

it once again hit steven that he was not made for this. he could not process any of this - never mind come up with the words to say, to say goodbye. for the second time that day, he welcomed the switch.

you felt the room around you change, the air turning thicker and stuffier. it meant only one thing to you - marc.

“oh, god, baby,” he whined, bringing his hand to your hair. “my baby.”

tears stung in your eyes, and you too fell to the floor, opposite him with only your dead body separating you.

“i’m sorry, baby, ‘m sorry,” marc said, tears dripping onto your body. “this is all my fault, all my fault, i’m sorry.”

“no.” you spoke, not even caring that he couldn’t hear you. you meant it so much - so fucking much - that it’s weight would carry through to the living world. the single syllable held so much, so much pain, anger, sadness, that everyone on planet earth would hear it.

marc took a breath, hand still running through your hair. “i can’t- what am i meant to do? baby please, i can’t do this without you. i can’t, you know i can’t. neither… neither of us can.

“i’m sorry i was angry, baby, i know- i know you didn’t mean it. you didn’t know what would happen, you were so young. fucking bushman, it was his fault and only his. you didn’t pull that trigger and you never would.”

not taking your eyes off of him, you watched marc bubble out his last words to you.

“i love you so much. god, baby, i adore you. if i could, i would take all of this. every last bit. it would be me lying dead - fucking hell, it should be me lying dead. you don’t deserve this, you’re an angel.

“you’re my angel, baby. you saved me. over and over and over again, you saved me. you brought me back from the edge every fucking day and every fucking night. i wouldn’t be here without you.

“y/n, please, you can’t… i don’t know how to live without you, baby. it’s always been you. since the day we met, i have always loved you. fuck - maybe i’m the worlds worst husband at showing it, but i have loved you with every moment of my life.

“if i could take back every argument i would, i swear to god i would. i never, ever, deserved you. you should have been with someone better than me, someone who would love you properly and not treat you like shit.

“i think you knew that, though. but you fucking stayed. through it all. even when i told you about steven, you stayed. never cheated, never tried to leave. fucking hell, baby, i don’t know what i did to deserve you.” marc brought his spare hand to rub his eyes.

you didn’t even try to stop the tears coming at this point. you let them - let them fall down your face and create a little puddle, watering the flowers.

“from the day i met you, y/n, you saved me. even with all this khonshu bullshit, you… you were the only real superpower i ever had, baby.”

a hand flew to your mouth to stop the sob come out. it would have sounded more like a scream - this was torture. worse than you had ever endured in your entire life, this was the worst thing you had ever had to watch.

“i love you baby, so fucking much. i know what we said in our vows but death won’t ever change that. wherever you are, i will always love you,”

he moved your body, shifting you so that you were lying completely straight and flat, and marc took both of your hands and laid them across your stomach, your hand wearing your wedding ring on top.

marc leant down, kissing your lips one final time, holding your face as he pulled back. his tears still dropped, washing away tiny specs of blood that covered your face.

stared, not caring that a literal god was in the room (she was just as upset, for what it matters), sobbing like a child at the scene before you.

your husband pulled away, getting back onto his feet, although he seemed slightly wobbly. he looked down at your body, and for just a second - a spilt second - you swore he made eye contact with you, like he knew you were sitting there.

“forever and always, baby. i’ll be counting down the days until we meet again.”

as he walked out of the room, the scene around you once again faded to the bright-white room. you remained on the floor, chest heaving in broken sobs as hathor stood in the opposite corner.

this was it, you thought. you would never see him again, ever. forever would go by, and you would never hold your husband again. never would you kiss him, sleep next to him, feel him inside you.

you would never have children, never sit until god knows when with steven as he babbled on about something or other, never have him compliment you, never have one of steven’s cups of tea, never have to patch him up again, never-

a ringing noise invaded your ears, making you open your eyes.

was the room this colour last time? no, you would have sworn it was completely white. so why, why on earth was it getting darker?

hathor laughed from the corner, your head snapping to her.

“osiris,” she smiled. “you old softie.”

-

it was like waking up from a nightmare. pushing yourself up, gasping for air, covered in cold sweat.

everything hurt. aches and pains shot through your entire nervous system, sending alarm bells straight to your brain.

you blinked. and again, and again. what the fuck?

it was the same room. the same flower-covered, yellow lighting, little puddle of water, indent in the flowers from where marc had been sitting.

everything was the same.

but this time, you weren’t watching from a third person perspective. you weren’t weightless, you could feel your heart pumping - so strong you thought it might beat out of your chest.

you were alive.

how were you alive? had seeing your husband break down really had such a big effect on osiris? god, maybe he was a big softie.

this was a strange sensation. everything burned a little brighter, colours were more vibrant. where you would have heard silence before, you could now hear hundreds of sounds. you could feel your blood running through your veins, your eyes focusing and un-focusing in the light.

“holy shit,” you whispered. “fuck.”

as much as everything hurt, the pain in your head was far greater than anywhere else. you brought a hand to it, feeling a deep cut just about your right eyebrow - exactly where you were shot.

but hey, you would take a cut over a bullet any day of the week.

with the feeling that time was ticking by, you pushed yourself onto your feet, the sensation of blood rushing to the limbs almost being ticklish.

walking in the same footsteps as marc and layla had, you left the room, a trail of blood following. the hallway was dead silent, quieter than you would have expected. were people still even here? you had no idea how long had passed from when you had died.

a bang down the corridor answered your question.

feet slightly unsteady as you walked to the source of the noise, you came closer to the room, bangs getting louder with every step.

find khonshu’s ushabti.

you flinched, instantly looking for the source of the voice. it was one that you recognised, mind registering it has hathor’s voice.

“what?” you hissed.

silence. find khonshu’s ushabti? like, those little stone things steven had told you gods get put into when they misbehave? surely khonshu wasn’t sentenced to that, you thought. but then your better judgment kicked in. he was on his last chance, after all.

“alright,” you nodded, talking to thin air. “sure.”

making your way down the hall, every room was empty. there could only have been two or three rooms left, and you’d need a lot of luck to find the exact item you needed in one of them.

voices sounded from outside the hall, making you question where exactly you were. they were echoing, as if in a massive chamber. what the hell?

quickly walking to the nearest exit, you poked your head around the corner.

surely fucking not. surely.

was this… the pyramid of giza? here? it sure looked like it, judging by the huge statues of different gods and massive interior.

what an impressive place to say you died in, you thought.

you watched the people in the chamber, they seemed to be waiting for someone. you hoped it wasn’t-

harrow walked into the chamber, coming from the corridor right next to you, everyone instantly turning to look at him. for fucks sake.

it was hard to make out exactly what he was saying, but in his hand was what you recognised as an ushabti. not khonshu’s, though, right? you prayed it wasn’t, because your job would have gotten ten times harder if it was.

harrow went silent for a second, before he threw the ushabti to the ground, making you flinch slightly.

sand collected around where it had smashed, the cloud getting taller and taller by the second, becoming more dense and coloured - until a massive creature was left.

your jaw dropped. this thing - this god - was exactly how steven described ammit. the exact thing that you were trying to stop harrow getting his hands on.

“fuck,” you whispered, seeing ammit get used to being out of her stone casing.

the urgency of finding khonshu’s ushabti pressed into you, your eyes scanning for a hopeful-looking corridor. then you realised - harrow had came from the next corridor over. with an ushabti.

you almost ran into the next corridor, praying no one spotted you. this hallway instantly seemed more promising, small torches lining your way.

the corridor opened into a single room. a huge, dimly lit room, the most noticeable feature being the hundreds of shelves on the wall. bingo.

rushing to the shelves, your eyes scanned for anything that you recognised as khonshu, starting from the top row down. you were beginning to lose hope when you reached the bottom rows, but there it sat.

a perfect depiction of khonshu.

picking it up, the grainy texture was cold in your hands - but it wasn’t in your hands for long. you threw it to the ground, a similar cloud of sand gathering around the impact area.

you never understood what marc meant when he said khonshu was terrifying. how scary could a big bird be? well, you were eating your words.

a massive skeletal figure looked over you, crescent shaped staff casting a shadow on your face.

y/n spector is back among the living, then. khonshu said, his voice booming in your ears.

“yeah, looks that way, doesn’t it?”

his massive head tilted. and here i expected your husband to have the attitude.

you scoffed. why did everyone always think marc was the only tough one?

ammit has been released.

turning to look at him, you couldn’t hide your impatience. “no shit, sherlock.”

a gust of wind blew through the room, making you laugh lightly. steven was right about his temper tantrums.

we must bind her in something more powerful than an ushabti - a human. khonshu stated.

you were about to nod, but then it hit you; “we?”

khonshu paused. only an avatar can bind someone. marc is not strong alone.

it almost made you laugh. “fuck no. i’ve seen what you do to marc.”

your husband will die if you don’t.

taking a few steps away, you shook your head. “i will do anything but that.”

and khonshu was gone. to see marc and steven, presumably, but gone nonetheless. god, you couldn’t stand him.

another bang sounded, far closer to you this time. the force of it shook dust and sand from the ceiling, some of it falling onto your head.

only an avatar can do it, and marc will die if you don’t. for fucks sake, why did it have to be you? of all people to manipulate into this, why you? which god would possibly take you as an avatar?

oh. oh.

“hathor?” you whispered, only half expecting a response.

a beat.

“hathor?” it came out more urgent than last time. “please.”

it was a strange feeling, a god speaking through you. it took you by surprise, feeling your mouth move with words that were not your own; yes, y/n?

“make me your avatar.” you were begging by this point.

i can, but it’s not that simple, you know?

“please,” you hissed, falling against a nearby wall. this was a weird feeling. “you can give me the ins and outs later, just please-”

a bang, before the ceiling right in front of you crumbled, almost squashing you where you stood.

then you felt it; your entire body being overtaken, like your heat beat went backwards, a tingling in your fingertips.

as the rubble cleared, you saw the chamber in front of you. looking down at yourself, you noticed the change of clothes.

material the same reddish-colour as hathors dress covered your body, gold detailing on the sides. it was a strange material - soft but harsh, protecting your body.

“nice outfit choice,” you smiled.

thank you. something special for my new avatar.

[adaraprince]

The Club

Chapter 1 here! Chapter 2 here! Chapter 3 here! Chapter 4: Bruce Banner - Reader - Hulk Chapter 5 here! Chapter 6 here!

-> The Club's masterlist

Warnings: This is a +18 story, dealing with topics such as sex, kinks and prostitution. Therefore, minors should not interact.

Synopsis: Doctor Bruce Banner has a hard time finding a lady willing to spend a night with him, and that's not his fault! Far from it, the problem is caused by "the other guy", but as always our girl is very professional.

______________________________________________________________

If there was one thing your job demanded, it was flexibility; particularly of the physical kind. The people who paid for your time, your talents, had bent you in every conceivable way. Confected into cuffs, strapped into complex swings and harnesses, bent practically in two; yoga barely covered the level of stretching you had to prepare for.

And with who you had on the books, you had to be especially agile. You always took the night off before Big Guy came to visit; you had to prepare in a way that a normal session wouldn't provide. The toys, the ones he had designed especially for you, kept you full and on the verge of orgasm all night. A slight buzz kept your walls quivering, wet, but not cumming; he spent a considerable sum for 24 of your hours, to make sure you didn't find climax in your own time.

He rarely visited you, due to the astronomical bill his sessions racked up, but each time he did, he exceeded his limits. In truth, you relished the challenge.

""----- ✇ ★ ✇-----""

The ride to the Club was tricky, the pushes and pulls of the New York underground made people crash into you in the worst way; pressing into the thick dildo nestled against their stomach. The slightest outward pressure weakened your knees; it was purely due to the crowded underground car that you didn't collapse at that moment.

Finally reaching the penthouse floor, punching in the employee code for the private entrance, was only the slightest relief. As you staggered down the corridor, Delia had a look of sympathetic amusement at your struggles. She never understood why you would take your work home with you; especially when it had you almost bursting at the seams.

You had given up trying to explain. "My God, how are you still standing?" she gawked as you stripped off your long trench coat, completely naked underneath it. Your outfit for the day is hanging on your dressing table. "I can see that monster peeking out from here!"

Throwing him a glare, she rested her hands on the back of her chair, steadying herself. "I'm very passionate about my position, Delia," you replied breathlessly. You picked up the costume, rubbery and heavy on its hanger. "N-now, could you help me with this?" She shook her head, but got to work to help anyway. This was not a one-person garment.

Straps connected the sage-coloured latex stockings to the matching top, tight as a second skin around the waist. The wrist-length sleeves were hell to squeeze around your arms, but it was workable anyway, and the matching collar buckled easily at the neck. It squeezed you tight, but left your breasts, ass and sex exposed; all the parts Big Guy would be playing with.

Somehow, you had slipped into the rubber suit without losing an inch of the thick precursor inside you. You were and always will be a pro girl.

Despite your clacking ankles, you staggered into the white heels and managed to pull the white lab coat over your shoulders. Delia placed the nurse's cap, emblazoned with a red heart, on the crown of your head. She wore the part, inside and out.

"Leave them dead." She nodded curtly in approval, taking her usual position by the door. On days like these, she was the only other person on the premises; just in case Big Guy got a little out of hand.

The clinic was one of the first doors out of the dressing room, and you were grateful; any more and you'd collapse. As you opened the door, the scent of chemical cleaners hit your nose, everything spotlessly clean and sterilised. This room did not have a bed in the traditional sense; at its centre was an examination table, complete with stirrups. A stool on wheels sat right in front of it, for inspection and experimentation.

And his client had already taken his seat. He turned in the chair, a shy smile playing on his face. He always looked a little embarrassed, looking at you in that outfit; but he kept asking anyway.

"Hello nurse." He mumbled, standing up. He looked a little tired; the lines around his eyes were deeper, some more silver hair mixed into his dark curls. She guessed he had a crucial need for the session.

"Doctor B," you inclined your head slightly towards him as you approached. His eyes roamed over you, studying you with that intelligent eye. He would find nothing out of place; you held yourself to impeccable standards. I have missed you. It's been too long since our last … experiment.

His cheeks flushed and he moved his eyes to yours for a brief second; green danced in them. "Busy schedule, work to do…" he murmured, moving tentative fingers to your bare skin, drawing lines along your collarbone, your chest; a thumb brushing over a nipple. You shuddered. "You haven't altered the parameters, have you?" His second hand, losing its apprehension, reached between your legs; the lightest touch on the base of his toy sent a jolt through your body. "N-no Doctor," you whimpered, clenching your fists to remain standing. "I… I didn't interrupt the process."

"Mmm…" the growl in his throat was approving, a tense vein in his neck. His talented hand gripped the base of his invention, giving it a few shallow thrusts. "Does it hurt terribly?" You cried out at his movements, the friction almost unbearable. Your own hands shot out, gripping his violet-clad arms for balance. "Uh… very good, doctor," you gasped, stretching slightly to allow your hand to move more. "It hurts so good."

Just when you thought he might give you some relief, he withdrew his hand; excitement bubbling to your surface. "Good girl," he took your hand, leading you to the table. "Let's get you ready for the exam then."

Your toes curled in your shoes, frustrated; but this was like him. Prolonging the agony until the end. When you could both let it go. The lab coat abandoned on the floor, you see a little shifting and adjusting to manoeuvre into position. Leaning at a 45-degree angle, you can see everything in front of you. You pushed the stirrups as high as you could, cradling the armpits of your knees, your heels pointing straight up to the ceiling. At this vantage point, you were completely on display; seeing the purple of the fake cock stretching your hole.

You struggled to stand still, watching as he approached a cart of instruments; unpacking his own tools for his pleasure. A trio of syringes, a larger than average speculum, a rubber-coated clamp, lubricant … Your training was getting more intense.

"Now, before we begin," he ran a hand down the back of his thigh, reassuring, groping. "Do I have your express consent for what I'm about to do to you?"

You smiled, anxious and nervous. "Yes, doctor."

"Do you understand everything that can happen to you?"

"Yes, doctor."

"And do you remember how to use this?" He held up a syringe; the liquid inside was a murky black. "In case … in case it goes too far?" You threw in a soft scoff; in all her time with him, she'd never had to use that . "Yes, doctor."

He flashed a relieved smile; he could finally play. "Then let's begin." Pulling on a pair of gloves, he carefully grasped the toy inside you, giving it a gentle push before pulling it out of your channel. A groan of relief burst from your lips; the pressure was gone, but it felt empty.

"Hm… perfect," he murmured, gripping the examination table as he leaned forward, casting his hungry gaze over your gaping pussy. A dildo this thick, leaving you stretched open, raw pink and throbbing. Her favourite colour. "Less swelling at the opening…it's getting better with longer insertion times."

"Th-thank you Doctor," she gurgled, warmth flooding her skin. You could just watch, held by the stirrups, as his fingers went to work; poking and tugging at the edges of her hole, noting its elasticity, the increase in natural lubrication. "I think the addition of v … vibration enhanced the experience."

"I should say," she agreed. He rested his thumbs inside your pussy, on either side, pulling you just a hair's breadth wider; and spat. You cried out from the cold, shuddered at the utter filth in his demeanour. Who would have guessed the affable Doctor would be so deeply lecherous?

He smiled mockingly at your misty eyes. "Did I frighten you, Nurse?" You nodded your head reeling, already short of breath. That brilliant mind; always so many new ideas. "Just a little surprised, Doc," she winked at him, not to be outdone. "We're still fully committed to the project."

"I appreciate that in a researcher," he mused, stepping back to select the first syringe; pink, almost pearly. The disinhibitor. He didn't mind the prick, as the needle pierced his flesh, the femoral artery. It took effect quickly; sweat broke out on her skin, her eyes dilated, pulse pounding. "Taking the discoveries as they come."

You were speechless, finding only moans in your voice; That pink drug he invented just for you worked wonders, made for your genes.

Your eyes fluttered, the splash of fresh stain filled your ears, dripping from you to the table below. You were a real fountain, but even in your drug-addled mind, you knew you weren't ready yet.

You had more steps to take.

"You're taking the effects so well, nurse," he cooed, massaging your folds. The ghostly pressure on your clitoris made you writhe and squirm, the little nub swelling and firm; just as you needed. "I altered the dosage slightly, can you feel it?" Doctor B selected the rubber clamp on his tray, spreading her labia with one hand, using his middle finger to stroke her clit to tantalise it. "I should leave you floating … while you sharpen your nerves."

Pinched between his fingers, the clamp found its place around your clit; and earned its first scream from you. Pure, delicious torture racked your body, centralised in the throbbing of your sex, the relentless compression on your nub; it wasn't the worst pain I'd ever endured, but it was all-consuming.

From between your legs, Doctor B watched hungrily; it had been so long since he'd last allowed himself to play with you. Big Guy was already moving inside him, roaring like an animal, begging to fuck like one; but not before his rational mind had prepared you fairly. He didn't want to hurt you.

"I love that sound," he mumbled, a vein popping in his forehead. He rested his unshaven cheek against your thigh, planting soft kisses as he plunged three fingers into your pussy; he barely filled you, but you were grateful for the sensation. "You love it, don't you, love the way I make you feel?"

Despite your fog, you managed to nod, grinding against his touch, demanding more without words. Your nails dug into the padded table as his fourth finger moved inside you. The stretch was incredible; but you knew it wasn't over.

"Do you think you can take it?" You knew what he was asking and that he would do it anyway. Bending his thumb in his palm, the movements in your pussy changed; not thrusting, but twisting, urging you to relax. "I bet you can… just relax, let me in…"

The widest tip of your hand took the longest, the stretch almost felt like a tear; with a burst you finally broke through, your walls closing tightly around his fist, completely swallowed by your sex. Your eyes rolled back, the fullness taking over; and she won her next scream as her fingers writhed, jabbing at your most delicate parts in an endless rhythm.

"Good girl!" he praised, watching his wrist disappear inside you, mesmerised by the slight bulge over your mound; no other woman had been able to take what he dished out. "Oh, so wet, so hot…. you're doing it perfectly Nurse, just perfectly…"

"Hhn… uh…" you gasped syllables, your body confused, mind swimming, and you still craved more, more, more. The pink stuff really worked; your only goal in mind was to be full, to the brim and then some.

Her own vision began to turn green; on the cusp of losing control, she would get you to climax before she let her base instincts take over. His hand picked up speed, the sensation of his fingers overwhelming. "I need you to cum for me, okay?" He growled; through narrowed eyes, you could see the skin on his neck turn green. "Please, let me… let me do that for you, I want you to cum, to squirt me…" his unused hand went to your clit, red and almost raw, moving it like a madman. As your body trembled, your eyes rolled back and your mind went blank; racked by a mind-altering orgasm, you could only feel it. His fingers, pressed against your cervix, the bones of his wrist against your opening, the splash of your semen on your thighs, no doubt on his face. As shy as he seemed on the outside, the good Doctor never hesitated to throw all the deep, dark desires he had into you. And you were only too grateful to take them.

"N - Nurse…" his soft, rough tone called to you through your haze, his dry hand cupping your cheek. You blinked sleepily up at him, suddenly aware of the tears on your face; it wasn't the first time he'd provoked tears.

As your vision returned, you saw the signs; his eyes practically glowed green, the whites of them turning yellow. The green of his neck rose up his flesh, following his moss-covered veins with every beat of his heart. He didn't hold back much longer.

"¿C … c-continue…?" He peered down, frowned in concentration, the stitches in his shirt already beginning to tear. Shuddering, he nodded and pointed to the lube on his tray; another tool of his own design. He nodded hurriedly and uncapped it, wasting no preamble by spreading it on himself; no, he inserted the nozzle into your open pussy and squeezed.

You choked with a gasp; so cold, yet so vital. In addition to its highly viscous nature, this lubricant included an anaesthetic agent, specific to vaginal genetics; as well as a stimulant for the penile counterparts. The more you could take it, the less time it would last; that was the safest thing for you, in his opinion.

The tube empty and set aside, he no longer held back. His skin was still changing, his body changing; the transformation had already added a foot to his height and huge muscles to his frame. His cock was no different: it tore at his fly, instead of unbuttoning, its length hard and dripping as it bounced against your folds. At 22 centimetres, you didn't even have the full girth; but you had to start now, otherwise it would be too much.

"D-Doctor B…" he whispered, raising his gaze and the last of his logical mind. He clasped his hands in expansion, kissing his palms before planting them on either side of the table. "P-please… I need you."

His roar split between human and monster, advancing and filling you with his cock; the creature in him needed to feed, and you were on the menu. Still, it grew, around you and inside you, turning from a greenish tinge to a deep emerald; the table creaked under the force of his grip, the strength of his hips as his hindbrain took over and pumped inside you with abandon. You watched above you, stunned by the swelling of his veins, the change in demeanour; the Doctor had taken a back seat, and Big Guy had only one goal.

His own. Mark. Flood. Semen.

His growl was downright animalistic now, hitting you as he reached his full size. Even with so many sessions, the width and length of his fully transformed member was almost too much to bare. He forced himself as deeply as he could, caring little for your pleasure at the moment; he wanted his own. Still, with each hard thrust, he did not put his weight on you, and never broke you completely; some part of his brain still treated you kindly, enough to know that you were the cause of his ecstasy.

You mewled and moaned for him, letting his hands stretch over your shoulders, admiring the flexing of the muscles underneath. Looking down, the sight he provided never failed to make you clench; the bulge in your belly, waning and returning as he fucked you, obvious and hot. You cupped the place where his head protruded the most, feeling him both inside and out as he reached your limit, filling you as deep as he could afford.

He groaned at the feel of your hand, looking down to find what had so fascinated you; and he seemed to react in kind. Placing his hands on the backs of your thighs, he steadied his balance and pushed himself into your depths, his balls pressed against your opening. He groaned at the sight, belly bulging with his cock, so overwhelmed and fluffy, that despite the numbing lubricant, a miniature orgasm shuddered through your body.

Big Guy noticed. "Like… this…" he growled, his voice so different from the Doctor's, chasing his own climax with short strokes. He wouldn't dare pull away any further; you looked so good. "Cum- how- this-" it sounded like a command, his huge paws gripping your legs, green eyes darting between your stretched pussy and bulging belly. "Semen-!" Though muffled, a third small orgasm rippled through his body; and in your reaction, your hands pressed the swell. The constriction, outside and inside, finally reached him and gave him the release he needed.

His cry echoed across the room, suddenly fucking like a machine inside you, watching you intently as he filled you with his cum. You thought you were full before; Big Guy had reserves of his seed saved for you, and with each thrust, another rope filled your channel. When he finally slowed down, your belly looked bloated; almost pregnant. You can't say you didn't enjoy the sensation.

With a thud, and possibly a crack in the marble floor, the green monster fell backwards, gasping for air. His clothes were in tatters, his skin glistened with sweat, and his still massive length slowly receded, sticky and slippery against his thigh. He closed his eyes and a goofy smile painted his face; happiness was finally achieved. He also smiled and closed his eyes; another personal victory.

""----- ✇ ★ ✇-----""

"And you're feeling good? No breaks, no major aches and pains?"

The good Doctor was back to his old self, dressed in a set of sweats he brought with him for the aftermath. You, you still hadn't allowed yourself to get out of the stirrups; part of his appointments included a post-coital exam. I didn't trust Big Guy not to push you too far. "Really, Doc, I'm fine," he let out a laugh. Sure, you were sore and probably had bruises on your hips and hands for a few weeks; but it was always worth it. "Nothing a little rest and ice packs won't cure." "Hmmph," he grunted, probing your stomach; a small trickle of his cum leaked out of your now red and battered pussy. He caught the sudden dilation in your eyes, but cleared his throat and looked away.

"Well… let me at least give you a booster."

The third and final syringe, filled with a clear medicine, was designed to help with the healing. The bruises would disappear faster, the aches would dissipate, and the muscles would regain some of their elasticity. He would be back to work quickly.

"You really don't have to do that… but thank you," he accepted it, sinking into his upper arm. The biggest advantage of the Doctor's visit was his immense ability to care. He had stopped a session all together once after finding a cut on his hip; it was in his nature to worry. "I hope you enjoyed our time today as much as I did."

That cute, shy smile crossed her face again, she leaned over and kissed your cheek, as she never had before. "I always do, nurse," and with a wink, he ran his fingers up your ass. "You might want to try something new, though, next time."

""----- ✇ ★ ✇-----""

[hope-for-the-best-98]

When You Feel Insecure (Eddie Munson X Reader)

Masterlist Spotify Playlist

Summary: Eddie helps you when you're feeling insecure about yourself.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only), fingering, piv, mirror sex, dirty talk, drabble heavily implies reader has insecurities about her appearance. (Please let me know if I have missed anything).

A/N: Work's been pretty hectic right now, so not writing as much as I want. But I am still (very slowly) making progress with the next chapter of Study Sessions, so please don't think I've abandoned it! But enjoy this little smutty drabble that has been taking up my brain the last week or so. I've discovered I am very out of practice with writing smut, so please be gentle with me...

You bought the dress months ago, a pretty off-the-shoulder red number that you fell in love with straight as you saw it in the store window. You only needed a few words of encouragement from Eddie to take the leap and buy it. 

Red’s your colour, sweetheart. And I think it would look really good on the floor of my bedroom, and your bedroom, my van too…

But now as you stand in front of your mirror, adjusting the neckline and trying to pull the bottom of it past your knee, you feel… Wrong in it. You’re thinking this would be the one, the confidence booster you have been craving for the last couple of days. You didn’t want to wear a basic pair of trousers and a blouse for Wayne’s birthday meal. You want to make an effort, look nice in something that wasn’t your work uniform or a band shirt you wear to Eddie’s gigs. You just want to feel beautiful. Something to make you feel right in your skin again. 

You hear a knock at the door and you wipe under your eyes to catch the unshed tears before they fall. “Come in.”

Eddie pushes the door open slowly, presenting you with that shit eating grin like he always does. He’s even made an effort to look presentable for the dinner. Dressed all in black, wearing his signature leather jacket that you steal at any chance you get. “Hey, baby. You nearly ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m just…” You sigh quietly, pulling at the fabric hugging your waist. “Finishing up.”

He nods his head, wolf whistling at you as he approaches. “You look perfect, Angel. We’ve gotta meet Wayne at the restaurant in like twenty minutes, so if you’re nearly ready-”

“I know, Eddie!”

“Hey, hey…” He soothes, gripping your bare shoulders. “What’s wrong?”

You shrug him off, turning away from him as you reach back for the zipper. “I hate how I look in this stupid dress. I don’t know why I bought it.”

“You’re kidding, right? Like, you’re totally fucking with me? Is this like a boyfriend test or something?”

You glare at him over your shoulder. “Just help me with the zipper. I need to…” You trail off, looking at your clothes scattered across your bedroom floor. “Find something else to wear. ”

You turn to face the mirror as he steps behind you, sighing quietly as you feel his fingers on the back of your dress. You wait for him to unzip it the rest of the way, but instead he pulls the zip back up and pats your back.

“Eddie, we don’t have time for this-”

He shushes you, pulling your hair back so he can kiss your neck. “We’ll make time. Now, just listen to me. Really listen to me.” He looks at you in the reflection of the mirror. “Got it?”

You huff, but lean back into him anyway. “Fine.”

You see him smile into your neck before trailing his lips up to your jaw. “Good. Now look at yourself in the mirror.”

You turn your head to look at him, your brow furrowing as you chew on your bottom lip. You’re not sure why you suddenly feel so nervous, especially in front of Eddie. The person who you trust, confide in, who looks at you like you’re the only person that matters. But you sometimes struggle with being vulnerable, even with the people you can be vulnerable with. Especially on days like these, when you just wanna crawl into a hole and be forgotten about.

Eddie notices your hesitation and he kisses you gently. “Please?”

“Okay.” You whisper, turning to face the mirror and catching Eddie’s eye in the reflection.

“Not me.” He mumbles into your ear, a hand reaching up to grip your jaw gently. “You.”

You reluctantly meet your own eyes in the mirror and sigh.  “Now what?”

“I don’t like it when you think about yourself like this. Do you know how beautiful you are?”

You feel your cheeks start to burn from the simple words. “Eddie-“

His runs his thumb across your bottom lip, silencing you. “I’m so lucky to have you, you know that, right? Make me the luckiest guy in the world. And you’re so fucking… Hot.”

He slides his hand down your neck slowly, and slips it into the neckline of your dress, his fingers grazing the top of your strapless lace bra. “Fuck, you wearing a treat under here for me later, huh?”

You bite your lip, trying to stifle your moan as his fingers graze against one of your pebbled nipples. “Was suppose to be a surprise.”

“Jesus Christ.” He groans into your ear, pulling his hand out of your dress and placing it back on your waist. “Matching pair of panties under there too?”

“M-maybe you should check…”

“Yeah, maybe I should.” His hands run down your waist, his knees bending slightly as he touches the inside of your thighs. He grips the bottom of your dress, bunching it up in his hands and pulling it up slowly. “Hold it up for me, sweetheart.”

You do it with no hesitation, your shaky hands holding it against your stomach as you and Eddie make eye contact in the mirror. “Fuck, black lace? All for me?”

“All for you.” You whisper, gasping quietly as his hand dips into the lace fabric of your underwear, zeroing in on your clit almost instantly.  You gasp, reaching down to grab onto his wrist. “Oh fuck.”

“God, you’re already wet. Drenching my fingers and I’ve barely even touched you yet. That’s so hot, baby, so fucking hot. I wish you knew how beautiful you are all the time. In the mornings, in your work uniform,” he moans quietly into your ear, “when you wear one of my shirts and nothing else.”

Your chest is pounding, feeling anxious and heated at the same time. You have been on edge all day, but with each swipe of Eddie’s fingers, the frustration seems to melt away, a blinding pleasure that leaves you gasping taking its place.

“I just- sometimes-“ You whimper as he presses down harder, his rough fingers rubbing your clit in a clockwise motion. “Sometimes I just don’t… Feel good in my skin. That maybe you won’t… Find me attractive on days like these.”

“Just feel what you do to me, baby.” He grabs your hand and presses into the obvious bulge in his jeans. “Drive me crazy. Like you put a damn spell on me or something. And I think if I don’t fuck you right now, I might just die.”

“But-“ You bite back a moan as he easily slides his middle finger into your cunt, his thumb rubbing against your clit. “The dinner…”

“I’ll be quick, baby. Promise. You’re soaked already. Won’t take long.”

You nod, your head falling back onto his shoulder. “Bed?”

“I think we should stay right here. The dress is staying on too.” He presses a wet kiss into your cheek before reaching down to unbuckle his belt. “Hands on the mirror, and keep them there. Condom?”

You do as he says, hands resting on the wooden frame of the mirror, back arching as you keep your eyes on the mirror. “Bedside drawer. Where they always are.”

“Right.” He kisses your jaw gently. “Keep those hands on the mirror.”

You hear him rush over to the drawers, hands rummaging through to the pack of condoms you have hidden under your underwear. You know he’s making a mess of everything, images of your underwear being thrown over his shoulder in a haste. His mind seems to go blank when all of his blood rushes South. 

“Eddie, please hurry.” You beg.

“I’ve got them, baby. I’m coming.” You see him in the reflection, his broad frame taking up the space behind you. He pulls your dress up, resting it on your lower back as he tugs down your underwear. He kicks your feet apart and you hear him tear open the condom wrapper. “Ready baby?”

You nod quickly, your breath hitching as you feel his cock running through your slick folds. “Don’t tease, you asshole.”

“Just getting him wet, babe. Give me a second.” 

You exhale slowly as you feel him start to push inside, your walls welcoming the familiar feel of him. Your hold on the mirror tightens, the cheap wooden frame creaking under your grip. “Oh fuck…”

“We’ve… This has got to be a quickie, okay?” He breathes, his hands finding purchase on your waist as he moves in and out of you slowly, letting you get used to the feeling of him rubbing against your sensitive walls.

“Just fuck me, Eddie. We’ll have time later.”

He chuckles quietly, one of his hands trailing down to grab your ass. “To unwrap my present properly, huh?”

“Uh huh.” You whine, body tensing as he hits that spot inside of you. “Fuck, right there. Don’t stop.”

You look at yourself in the reflection and you realise you look a mess. Makeup beginning to smudge; skin turning red from exertion; bottom lip swollen from your teeth sinking into it to hold in your moans. But as you make eye contact with Eddie in the mirror, his pussy drunk face sends shocks of pleasure throughout you

You moan into the inside of your arm as he speeds up, the mirror rattling against the wall with each thrust. “E-Eddie…”

“You feel so good. Taking me so damn well.” He grunts, reaching forward to cover one of your hands. He entwines his fingers into yours, gripping you tightly as he speeds up. “You gotta stay quiet, baby.”

“Just feels so good.” You mumble into your arm, clenching your eyes shut as you feel yourself getting closer. All the pent-up frustration, the bitterness you have felt for yourself from the last few days seems to disappear as Eddie snaps his hips against you. He always knows what you need, how you need it, and you love him for it.

“God, I can feel you squeezing me. You close, baby?”

“Y-yeah.” You whimper, legs shaking. “Eddie, I can’t…”

He wraps an arm around your middle, holding you against his chest as he fucks up into you. “That’s it, Angel. I’ve got you.”

You cry out and he has to cover your mouth with his hand, trying to keep you held up as your pussy tightens around him, and he follows behind you with only a few more thrusts. He buries his face into your hair and you stumble forward, your forearms catching you from falling face first into the mirror. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He whispers, reluctantly pulling out of you with a groan.

“Don’t be.” You chuckle breathlessly, looking over your shoulder at him. “That was totally worth being late to dinner for.”

He smiles down at you, his hands reaching for your waist to turn you around. He rests his forehead against yours, staring down at you. “Don’t you ever think about yourself like that, okay? You’re perfect just like this.”

You bump your nose into his gently. “Thank you for taking care of me, Munson.” 

He grins, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “Anytime, baby. You still up for dinner?”

“After that?” You grin. “Definitely.”

“Good.” He steps back and takes off the condom, throwing it into your bin before tucking himself back into his underwear and buckling up his belt. “I’ll meet you downstairs. Let you get ready with no more interruptions from me.”

You chuckle quietly, hand resting against the wall as you regain your breath. “Okay hot stuff.”

“And stay in that dress.” He says sternly by the door, pointing at you. “Your ass looks killer in it.”

[tomholland1996simp]

please help me || Tom holland

Summary: Your walking around the mall when you see a guy following you. Everywhere you went he was following behind. He eventually does something. Luckily you see these 4 boys....

Your name is Y/N Y/L/N and your 19 years old. You live in south-west London, Kingston. You are a makeup artist and you live in your own apartment in Kingston.

Today you were going to the big shopping centre in Kingston to get a present for your sister as it was her birthday in a couple of days. Normally when you go out shopping everything is fine and your in there then out straight away.

However, today had to be the day when you was alone and something happened.

You was in JD at the time when you noticed some presence behind you. As you turned around you bumped into a mysterious man.

"S-sorry" You muttered, walking away from him to go out of the shop. You didn't really see what he looked like, but he was just wearing black jeans with a white top and a black hat.

You didn't find anything in JD so you decided to go into Zara, to check if they still had that cute top you wanted. Luckily they did so you quickly tried it on, it fitting amazing and it looked nice on you.

You then wanted to see if they had the same top but in a different colour for your sister. As you was looking through the sizes, in the corner of your eye you saw the same man you bumped into at the other shop.

He then looked straight at you, so you quickly look away. The unknown man then walked straight pass you, making sure he touched your ass with a light squeeze as he went into another session of the store.

You gulped feeling a lump form in your throat, looking back at the disgusting man. Quickly walking out the store you grabbed your phone trying to call someone. The first person that came to mind was your best friend, B/F/N.

Unfortunately she didn't pick up as it went straight to voicemail. You then decided to shake off the feeling off what you felt after what just happened and thought it would just be a one time thing.

However, about 20 minutes later you was going to the till to pay for some perfume you had found for your sister, when you felt a pair of hands touch your shoulder.

Slowly turning around you saw that man. "A-are you following me or something. Because If you are can you please stop" you shakily say, the man just smirked.

"Princess we can just have some fun after your done" He smirked putting his arms around your waist, squeezing your ass yet AGAIN!

"P-please stop" You was on the edge of tears. This disgusting man who was most likely 20 times your age was sexually assaulting you.

"Pay for this and we will go" He grabs your arm harshly.

In this situation you didn't know what to do, so you only did what came to mind. You put the perfume down and pushed the man off you. Walking out of the store as fast as you could.

Your breathing was becoming slower and you felt a panic attack coming. Tears were brimming your eyes as you looked around for help.

Then you saw these 4 boys, walking together, laughing at something one of them said. There was a young boy who looked about the age of 10 who was standing next to another boy who looked maybe a bit younger than you.

The boy next to him looked kinda the same, so maybe they were twins? you thought to yourself. Then the 4th boy looked around your age 19-20 you would say. He looked very familiar though, you just didn't know where you had seen him before.

They were walking in your direction anyways, so this was your chance. They was your only hope to getting out of this situation before you have a panic attack.

You go up to them, with tears now falling down your face. The youngest boy saw you first and pointed you out to the boy next to him, which now they all looked at you. All there faces were confused as you walked up to the boy who looked the oldest.

"Omg Hey how are you?" You say acting like you knew the boy. Even though he had confusion written all over him.

"D-do I know you?" He asked with his British accent.

Toms POV

Me, Harry, Sam and Paddy were at the big shopping centre in Kingston. To be honest there was no reason why we were here, we just needed to get out and spend some time together as brothers.

"Theres some fan girl coming this way" Paddy pointed out to Harry, which we all heard looking up in front of us.

There was this beautiful girl, that looked around my age walking towards us. Instead of her looking excited to see me, she had tears streaming down her face. As she came closer I heard her breathing uncontrollably.

"omg, Hey how are you?" she faked smile talking to me, whilst shaking.

I was so confused, "D-do I know you?" was all I could ask.

"P-please help me. T-there's this guy who keeps following me and touching me. P-please he's like 20 years old than me." She begged with tears flowing down her face.

And as I expected, when I looked behind her some man wearing black jeans and a white top with a black hat was walking up to her.

I was about to say something when the man quickly grabbed her by the arm. "Excuse me can you not touch my girlfriend like that" I say grabbing the unknown girls arm, then putting an arm over her shoulders.

"That's not your girlfriend, prove it." the nasty man said.

"Okay" The only way to get her out of the situation was doing so. I put my hand on her cheek and kissed her passionately, as if she was my girlfriend.

And wow, wow.

She actually kissed back. Her lips were so soft and I kinda got carried away. It was the most perfect kiss ever.

Y/N POV

He kissed you!

You couldn't believe it. I mean you wasn't complaining or anything. He was a very handsome guy and he was helping you after all.

"Okay, okay. I get it fine" The man then walked away from us, as the other boys arm was now around my waist.

"T-thank you so much" I cried to the boy.

"It's okay, darling" He said.

"This is so embarrassing. My names Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N" I pull a hand to shake his.

"I'm Tom Holland" He says shaking my hand. Ohhhh that's how you know him.

"Oh. This is even more embarrassing. I-I'm so sorry. That's where I knew you from"

"Don't worry honestly. That's Harry, Sam and Paddy" he pointed to the boys beside him, them waving so you do the same.

"hi everyone" you say shyly.

"Do you wanna walk out with us. We can give you a lift home. Don't want anything else to happen" He smiles.

"It's okay honestly. I don't want to be a bother-"

"You won't be. We was leaving anyways" Paddy says.

"O-oh okay then sure." you smile walking besides him.

As you got out of the shopping centre, you all walked to Toms car. You were in the passenger seat so it wasn't that awkward, Tom being the gentleman he was opened the door for you so you thanked him.

You then told him your address, "No way you only live like 5 minutes from us" Harry says.

"Wow really. I only just moved into my apartment a couple of weeks ago" I chuckle.

"You live alone?" Tom asked and you nod. "How old are you then? N-not in a weird way just wondering"

"I'm 19 and you?"

"20" He smiles.

About 8 minutes later you arrived at your apartment, Tom getting out the car with you. "This is me" You smile at the cute boy.

"Y-yeah, bye"

"Bye Tom" you turn around going to walk into your apartment but Tom says, "y/n wait" this made you turn back around to face him.

"C-can I get your number?" He asked, grabbing his phone.

"Sure it's 07950......" You tell him your number.

"We can hang out sometime" he says.

"I would love that. Thanks again Tom" You smile walking into your apartment block with butterflies.

Little did you know that, that boy was eventually gonna be in your life forever :)

[ayz0]

So earlier you mentioned in your explanation post for the argument, that Moon is like an upgraded model of Sun? Can I ask what's different?

sure! there's a few things i've thought of :) a lot of it i've seen in fics and such so some stuff is common headcanon stuff. fairly subtle differences all-around. shout out to Twins Moon for the lighter-weight bit. I like it :)

biggest difference is probably that Moon's optics have built-in nightvision (active when eyes are red) and thermal imaging (same tech as Roxy's eyes. active when eyes are black w/ red pupils) modes, explaining why he's able to find you no matter where you're trying to hide. When I colour his eyes plain white it means he's not using either mode and just has regular vision like Sun!

being made with the extra duty of security in mind, he also has access to live camera feeds! he can't re-watch feed recordings though. has to manually access a computer terminal for that. Moon also has a greater grip strength than Sun, also for security duties in mind.

he is eeeever so slightly shorter than Sun (solely because i think its cute)

Moon was built with much more light-weight materials! mainly because i wanted to draw him sleeping on top of my y/n without crushing them LOL but anyway that is the reason Sun absolutely bulldozed Moon in this video. he's much heavier. and is jealous that he can't be held the same way by hooman buddy :'(

The hoop on Moon's back for the wire is also retractable - it'll give way if you push on it unless Moon's locked it into place, and when he retracts it a cover closes over the hole. Sun's one is not retractable and is always sticking out. this also means Moon can comfortably lay directly on his back but Sun can't lie on his back without it feeling awkward </3

but don’t worry Sun gets to enjoy it later on once they share a body

Also, this last one i haven't demonstrated yet, but Moon's legs are built with much higher-grade springs in em! He can jump higher and fall from greater distances than Sun can, and the springs will absorb most of the shock. He still prefers to gently lower himself from places if he can, because he isn't reckless (Sun, on the other hand, is, and would absolutely jump off of high things or simply drop off the wire instead of lower himself down properly) but if needed, Moon can absolutely fall from the rafters and - while he won't be *totally* fine from that height, the leg casing may crack - his legs won't utterly shatter into pieces, provided he lands on his feet lol. cat rules baby

sproing

oh oh also! also!!! for stealth/naptime purposes (and later when they share a body, for thermal paint colour-changing purposes) because fans can get loud af, Moon's fans do not automatically run all the time! he has to manually use them to cool himself down if necessary (usually due to too much activity, which is why he prefers to sleep or stay in one spot and be a lazy boi)

this also means he runs much warmer than Sun does (which i did for irony purposes LMAO i love it. Sun feels cool and Moon feels warm? hell yeah!), Sun doesn't have to worry about noise unless he's trying to be sneaky on purpose so his fans run full blast a lot of the time when he isn't standing still :) sounds like he's constantly purring though so it's cute. Moon's a lot more quiet than Sun personality-wise to kinda reflect that difference as well - uses a lot more one-word/simple sentences where Sun likes to run his mouth a lot hehe

[sserpente]

A/N: Heyho there my lovelies! I’m finally back! I missed posting so much! This Imagine is based on a TikTok I found and what can I say? It inspired me! After this, next up, will be the 20k Special! Enjoy everyone!

Words: 3205 Warnings: colour-blindness

“What if I never find him?” You murmured, glancing at the fruit bowl with a saddened expression. Yellow bananas, green grapes, red apples. To you, they were all different shades of grey. Dull and boring, like you had been sucked into a 30s black-and-white film. Only you didn’t get a cheesy romance out of it.

You had been born with what doctors today would call a ‘remarkably rare, complicated and fascinating condition’, for you had lost all of your colour vision at the age of twelve. You still remembered what the world had looked like before—bright, rich, intense—then someone flicked a switch overnight and all you could still see was grey, grey, grey and greyer. The colours would only ever come back to you once you found the love of your life—your soulmate.

A sigh escaped your lips. Only a few people still existed with this… defect and to make things worse, you had had no idea you were one of them. Not until your twelfth birthday. Society admired and pitied you all the same and yet, being a hopeless romantic, at the end of the day, you longed to finally fall in love.

Tony chuckled. “Heads up. You’re too young to worry about settling down anyway.” He responded cheerfully and pointed at you with a screwdriver in hand. He had been trying to fix the dishwasher for a solid twenty minutes now and for a man who had built himself a pretty much indestructible suit that could fly, it was utterly amusing he couldn’t figure out why it had stopped working.

You were not an Avenger, mind you. The sole reason you were, as of right now, in the Avengers’ kitchen munching on grey chocolate chips was that your best friend, who in turn was friends with Clint’s wife, had managed to flood your shared flat over the weekend. It was utterly inhabitable now and it would take quite a while for the landlord to get it all dried up again—and since insurance would not cover the cost for staying in a hotel, for the time being, Clint’s wife had suggested you’d stay with them—right until Tony Stark had shown up and you had graciously offered you’d come hang out at the Avengers Tower. Okay, technically you had begged him but either way and needless to say, you had jumped at the opportunity and somehow even hoped that you would learn some dirty superhero secrets—but so far, nothing. Nothing but what superheroes did when they were not out and about saving the world. Truth be told, seeing Thor in Hello Kitty pyjamas and witnessing Natasha Romanoff of all people scream watching an Asian horror film had its perks but you had somehow expected for them to be called in for an urgent mission where they required a skill only you had and then they would rely on your help and you would fight and become an Avenger and… your fanfiction had always sounded too good to be true.

“Are you still there? How is that fruit bowl so interesting?” Snapping yourself out of your thoughts, you blinked.

“Sorry. What were you saying?”

“I was saying that…”

“Tony?” It was Bruce who interrupted you two, peeking his head into the kitchen almost timidly. You waved at him and he nodded, yet he failed to reciprocate your smile. Uh-Oh.

“Did something happen?”

The scientist nodded. “You might wanna put on your suit.”

“What happened?”

Bruce pursed his lips. “We’ve located Loki.”

-

Your eyes were still widened by the time you rushed after Tony even after he had told you explicitly (three times, to be exact) to stay put and hide until he had been put in custody.

The Loki. God of Mischief, Thor’s brother, Frost Giant, the I-tried-to-take-over-the-planet-guy. It was exciting, somehow, meeting a villain and oh, would it fuel you for your fan fiction. You almost bumped straight into Thor when they all came to a halt all of a sudden, his body a wall of flesh and muscle and making you grunt in pain—you might as well have hit a brick wall. With his hammer in hand, he ensured no one would approach his dangerous brother closely enough for him to try anything funky.

But the fact that Loki was even more handsome in person and the first villain you ever saw in person when he turned around the corner with a proud and arrogant expression on his face despite his shackles, was not what startled you to the core.

All of a sudden, there were colours. Everywhere.

Your lips parted, the impact of all the pigmentation around you making you dizzy. Loki’s armour was black, his cape was green, his eyes were blue, and his hair reminded you of the plumage of a raven. And your surroundings... The compound was silver now, the sceptre they had taken from him golden. Nauseous, you held on to Thor’s muscly arm for support. The God of Thunder frowned in concern. His eyes were blue too, his hair blonde, his cape red… too… many… colours. You suppressed a gag, overwhelmed by the sudden return of your colour vision.

“Are you okay?” Thor asked.

“G-guys… I can see colours.”

Every single head in the room, including Loki’s, turned in your direction so fast you flinched. Tony’s face was the first to fall in response.

“You are joking, right?”

Mutely, you shook your head. Your eyes locked with Loki’s, electricity rippling through you when they did. His blue irises froze you from the inside out, like each and every one of your limbs failed to resist the magnetic pull you felt towards him, and your cells longed for you to throw yourself into his arms—despite the fact he was handcuffed... and for a good reason too. Swallowing thickly, you forced yourself to look away.

Loki was your soulmate. That was impossible; and quite frankly, the god in question appeared to be thinking the exact same thing.

You chewed on your lower lip, anything to distract yourself from your predicament all the while everyone was still staring at you like you had grown two more heads.

“Take him to the cells, I’ll stay with her.” Clint’s hand on your shoulder did little to console you. Part of you still barely resisted the urge to start at Loki like a succubus, the other… the other was terrified and meant to hide in the archer’s embrace.

You could feel Loki’s blue gaze still resting on you when he led you away from the scene, staring daggers into your back and rendering you speechless until you were finally out of sight and Clint shook your shoulder gently.

“Are you sure it’s not one of the security guards that helped bring him in?”

“No… no, I saw them first. Loki was behind them. It’s… I don’t know how to explain it but somehow, Loki was in colour first, you know what I mean? First him and then, a split second later, everything else was colourful too.”

“And now?”

“Now what?”

“Do you still see in colour now?”

“Of course I do.” Clint sighed and buried his face in his hands.

“So what happens if you don’t… act on this soulmate thing?”

“Nothing. Nothing happens.” You said.

“So you don’t have to… stay close to Loki or anything?”

“No. Not that I know of. But Clint—“

“Good. Because he might find a way to use you against us. Stay away from him. Thor’ll take him back to Asgard soon enough. All we need to do first is find the Tesseract.”

Your lips were pursed when he turned to check on them and if Loki was wreaking havoc while they were trying to get him imprisoned.

Stay away from him? Of course… it was the most reasonable thing to do. Loki was dangerous, a criminal… but was that right? Now that you had found your soulmate in him?

-

You couldn’t get him out of your head that night. Screw the danger, you had to see him. And eventually, your curiosity and that inexplicable and strange pull you felt towards Loki got the better of you. With a deep breath, you threw your covers back and let your bare feet hit the cold floor before quietly tiptoeing out into the dark and empty hallway.

Your blood was rushing in your ears, making you hear things your paranoia and imagination cooked up to the point your heart was pounding in your chest so hard and fast you feared it might jump right out of your ribcage. No one could know, of course. Clint would positively kill you—he, along with Tony, somewhat considered himself responsible for you here. You couldn’t really blame them. If something happened to you, they’d never forgive themselves. You were an innocent civilian, after all.

And now you had been tossed into the greatest fanfiction yet. Shivering, for the cold slowly crept into your bare skin and through the tanktop and shorts you were wearing to sleep, you finally reached the corridor leading to the elevator. The prison cells, a rather new addition to Stark Tower, were located at the very bottom, the cellar, or… what you preferred to call it, a modern dungeon.

You found Loki with his back turned to you in his cell, looking pale through the glass pane. Your heart skipped a beat when he suddenly spoke up.

“I expected you would find a way to come and see me at some point. I’d dare say the Avengers have taken quite the precautions to keep you as far away from me as possible.” He mused. He lifted his chin, approaching the glass window.

It was quite ridiculous to assume that this tiny and meagre prison would keep the Trickster at bay after everything he had proven to be capable of. If only he wanted to, he could shatter that glass with but a flick of his wrist or break the heavy metal door posing as the only barrier between you.

If you were to just… unlock that door to touch him… it would be so easy. Blinking rapidly, you shook your head to chase the thought away.

“Who are you?” He asked and for just a brief moment, you believed to see genuine interest and curiosity sparkling in his stunning blue eyes.

“No one, really. You already know my name, I presume but that’s all there is. I’m not special—I mean, I don’t have superpowers. I’m just a regular human with a rare condition.”

“Oh, I see. Surely you had not hoped for a criminal of all people to be your soulmate then? A murderer? A monster?” His expression hardened.

Yes. But you were not going to tell him that. He was still the person to have made you see colours again, regardless of who he was and what he had done. There must have been a connection between you, you felt it after all! And you were certain that he felt it too.

“Thor will take me back to Asgard and the great King Odin,” he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “will surely have me executed. You will never see me again. So do not worry.”

“I don’t want that.” You finally chirped, barely daring to look him in the eye. His gaze was scrutinising and intimidating… almost as if he was able to see right into your soul with but one single glance.

Loki frowned.

“I bet you’re not happy about this, are you?” A desperate scoff escaped your lips. “I’m not sure I am…” You confessed and sat down on the chair in front of the window. It creaked a little under your weight, the unpleasant sound echoing through the empty hallway.

This man right in front of you was not be trusted and yet, the desire to pour your heart out to him was so strong you felt it like a sea of emotions attempting to drown you.

“You know ever since my twelfth birthday I wondered when I would finally meet my soulmate. Who they would be, what they would be like… and then so many years passed I was beginning to worry I might never see colours again. That I’d be alone and grey for the rest of my life.”

Loki licked his lips and glanced up at you, listening intently to every single word you said.

“Now I met you and they all tell me not to trust you. I mean… I know who you are, I know what you’ve done. I can’t say I’m happy about the fact my soulmate is…” You stopped yourself, breathing in sharply. “What was the universe thinking? You are a god and I’m just… me. We live light-years apart!”

Eventually, after a moment of surprisingly pleasant silence between you, Loki hummed. “The Norns do have interesting ways.” He said, locking his eyes with yours, almost as if he was pondering if… if what? If he could imagine being with you?

“So what should we do? Never speak of it again? Pretend we have never met? I can’t just… come to Asgard with you.” You held your breath when you realised what you were considering here. Loki must have thought the same. He smirked in response—not mockingly but bitterly. “Odin would never allow a mortal on Asgard. If I was to survive my trial, that is.”

“Don’t say that. I don’t care you’re a criminal right now, I just found my soulmate, and I don’t want to lose him again right away, regardless of what happens between us.”

With a start, his face fell. “Nothing will happen between us. That would be unnecessarily cruel, would it not? Your life in the nine realms is but a heartbeat compared to mine.”

“So… this is goodbye?”

Loki hesitated. You noticed by the way his lips slightly parted without a single sound escaping them just yet.

“Yes. This is goodbye.”

-

The fruit bowl had become your new best friend. In the morning, tired and rather absent, you sat at the kitchen table holding on to a steaming mug of coffee all the while studying the different colours of the fruit before you like a complicated Maths formula.

“Did you have a good chat last night?” Clint barked at you when he entered the room, skipping the ‘Good morning’.

“Huh?”

“With Loki?” He probed, raising his eyebrows in an I-already-know-what-you’ve-done manner.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You said, shaking your head and focusing your gaze on the fruit bowl again. Yellow bananas, green grapes, red apples. In colour.

You flinched when Tony spoke your name. “We saw the footage on our security cameras. You sneaked to his cell last night knowing fully well why you should stay away from him, especially with… with… you know.”

Fuck… the security cameras. You had completely forgotten about those! Of course the legendary Tony Stark would have had security cameras installed all over the damn place!

Busted, you shrugged your shoulders as nonchalantly as you could muster. “I just wanted to talk him. I had to talk to him. I know what you’re all thinking—that he’s evil and brutal and cruel and ruthless… and… and you’re probably right? I… I don’t even know but… he is still my soulmate. I can see colours again because of him for Fuck’s sake! I can’t just… ignore that.”

“I get it. We don’t know what it must feel like. But it’s for the best. We don’t want him to hurt you.”

“I am his soulmate, too. He wouldn’t dare hurt me. You know maybe he’s not the monster you all think he is.”

“Are you saying that because you know him so well after last night or because that is what you want to believe?”

Both. “I just… have a feeling.”

“Right.” Tony clapped his hands. Your name left his lips almost like a plea. “You have to trust us.”

Thor nodded. “Loki is dangerous. You should stay away from him at least until we know he is not still plotting the domination of your planet.”

“What do you mean ‘at least until’? You can stop staying away from him when he’s back on Asgard and out of your reach.” Tony snapped.

“We’re just trying to keep you safe.” Steve intervened. You sighed.

“You know what? I’m getting a headache and I’m still tired, so I’m gonna go back to bed.” That wasn’t even a lie—well, at least the fatigue bit wasn’t. Besides, the blackout curtains in the room Tony let you stay in were heaven-sent.

That was until a loud tumult in the Tower woke you up again, even though you were not sure anymore you had actually fallen asleep once your head hit the soft pillow.

“W—“ Your scream of protest was muffled by a cool palm covering your mouth. You struggled briefly, ripping your eyes wide open in a weak attempt to make out who was assaulting you in the comforting darkness of your room when you suddenly heard a soothing voice shushing you.

“It’s me…”

“L-Loki?” You choked out when he removed his hand again. “Did you… did you break out of your cell?”

“It would seem so. Come.”

“What?”

He tilted his head. “I don’t have much time.”

You stood, throwing the covers back when he already reached for your hand and held it tightly, pulling you with him into the hallway and towards one of the more hidden exists of Stark Tower, a flight of stairs illuminated only by emergency lights.

“W-what are you doing?”

“I am proving to you that I am more than just a criminal.”

“Oh… but… um… where are we going?”

Loki smirked. Your eyes widened when he pulled out the Tesseract seemingly out of nowhere, its blue light glowing brightly in the dark and throwing artistic shadows on his face.

“Hold on tight.”

“Loki…”

The God of Mischief pulled you close, making you gasp. Your chest hit his, his arm wrapping around your waist. With his face only inches from yours, you could feel his warm breath on your lips, and suddenly longed to kiss him.

“You are my soulmate. I am not leaving you behind.”

“What happened to ‘goodbye’?” You chirped.

Loki tilted his head almost threateningly. “You are mine. Don’t you think I wanted to leave this place without looking back?” His expression softened. “But I couldn’t. Because of you.” And you might just be the only woman to ever love me in this way, he added silently.

“B-but… Y-you said Odin will never allow me on Asgard and… and…”

“I never said we were going to Asgard, now was I?”

Your lips parted. Could you trust him? The stranger who had finally made you see colours again? If you told him No, would he let go of you? Would he let you run to Tony and Clint and Nat so they could protect you from him? Swallowing thickly, you met his intense blue gaze and nodded.

Loki smirked and winked. “You are in for an adventure.” And you knew he wasn’t lying. Next thing you knew, you were both hurtled through space and into a shared future.

-

A/N: ☕

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Life Without Colour {Steve/Plus Size Reader/Bucky}

Soulmate AU: Your vision is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You and your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, aren’t each others soulmates but you love each other. He introduces you to his friends, the Avengers, and a very odd thing happens.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Plus Size Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader

Inspired by a tiktok trend lmao. i don’t usually enjoy love triangles, i find it unfair but couldn’t get this idea out of my head.

i might make this a series??? what do we think??

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

Life with Steve was a comfortable life. It was a good life; full of love, affection and happiness. You’d always felt like something was missing and something was missing. You hadn’t seen colour yet. When you met Steve, you knew that you weren’t soulmates yet he asked you out anyway and you said yes despite knowing that. You almost hated the life of soulmates and the fact that you had one soulmate, what if they lived miles and miles away? What if they were dead? What if you never met them? There were too many questions and not enough answers. You knew of some people who never met their soulmate and their vision was always in black and white. You also knew of some people who had been in large crowds or had been drunk, met their soulmate or at least glanced at their soulmate and either couldn’t find them in the crowd or the next day didn’t know who they were and there was no telling of who it could be because their vision was already colourful. So yeah, you weren’t a fan of the soulmate thing.

Steve had met his soulmate, it was Peggy Carter. The moment he met her as he stood in the line up in the army and she scoped them out, his world flooded with colour and so did hers. He hadn’t hidden this from you at all and you admired that; you admired his honestly. He smiled on your first date when he noticed you were apprehensive, “We’re not soulmates, it’s okay.” You relaxed then, “I like to think that there’s more than just one person out there for me. I like to choose my own destiny.”

It wasn’t long before you were in a committed relationship with him. He was like a breath of fresh air, so caring and kind and you had never been in love like this before. Steve was the closest thing to a soulmate as you’d had. You wished that he was your soulmate, it would ease your mind so much and it would have made your life so much easier. People didn’t think you and Steve should be together, you were regularly met with comments like, ‘You’re just setting up for heartache when you find your soulmate.’

You and Steve had spoken about what would happen if your world flooded with colour and you met your soulmate. Honestly, you’d expected a fight to break out but Steve was so kind about it and so level headed, unlike anything or anyone you’d ever seen before. ‘It would hurt me but I said on our first date that we weren’t soulmates. I love you, (y/n), and I want to spend the rest of my life with you but I trust you. I would trust that you would be open with me and let me know what you want to do. I can’t stop you from being with your soulmate so if you wanted to get to know them and see where it goes then I wouldn’t stop you. I just want you to be happy and I don’t want to hold you back from it. Just know that I love you and I believe in us.’  You told him that no matter what, you loved him first and he meant everything to you.

Life with Steve was good. You’d been dating for the best part of a year now and things were going good. You’d met most of the team and regularly met up with Sam and Nat, two of Steve’s closest friends. Steve told you all about his past, he told you all about Peggy and all about Bucky and you loved hearing stories of his past. The way Steve spoke of Peggy made you a little jealous but you couldn’t compete with his soulmate besides, he loved you. He was with you, planning a life and future with you, so you didn’t mind when he reminisced. You hadn’t met Bucky yet but you’d heard all about him. He was laying low in Wakanda, Steve told you, to try and undo the mind control that HYDRA had done to him.

‘I can’t wait to meet him one day,’ you said with a smile, ‘I can’t wait to hear all of his stories about you growing up.’ Oh how you would grow to regret saying that.

It was at Tony’s birthday party that your whole entire world changed and that is where this story begins.

“Do I look okay?” You asked Steve as you walked out from the bedroom. You wore a dress that was a little tighter than what you’d normally opt for, it showed off more curves; hugging your larger stomach and your back rolls.

Steve grinned at you, “Beautiful, sweetheart. I love that dress on you.”

“You don’t look half bad yourself, Captain.” He was so handsome, with that gorgeous smile and his hair styled to perfection. He wore black suit and tie, “My god, my boyfriend is the hottest man alive.”

Steve laughed as you approached him, planting a kiss on your forehead, “My god, my girlfriend is the most beautiful girl alive.”

You looked up at him, wishing that you could stare into his blue eyes and see the shade of them, “I love you, Steve.”

“I love you, too.” A large part of him wished that you had seen colour when you saw him, in fact the majority of him wished that. Deep down, he worried what would happen if you met your soulmate. He trusted you, god he really did, but it worried him. He hadn’t loved like this since Peggy and when he lost her, it almost broke him and he didn’t know if he could do that again.

He kissed you softly and pulled away all too soon. People didn’t understand your relationship, they always questioned whether or not you could be in love with someone that wasn’t your soulmate and the answer you told them was always yes, you can be in love with someone who isn’t your soulmate. Soulmate didn’t mean romantic, soulmate could be platonic too. You told them that you got butterflies whenever Steve kissed you, you missed him every time he was gone, you thought of him all the time and you knew; you knew that he was made for you. People just didn’t understand.

“Let’s go, love,” Steve said as he pulled away, “I gotta show you off and tell the world how beautiful my girlfriend is.” He just always knew exactly what to say, always knew how to lift you up and make you feel confident. Being a plus size woman dating Steve Rogers, America’s hunkiest superhero, it always made you feel a little insecure. When reporters or tabloids took a photo of the two of you together, the comments would always talk about you not being good enough for Steve. The media was a toxic place, that favoured white skinny people and hated everyone else. Your weight did not define your beauty or your worth. You were beautiful and you demanded respect. Steve was good for reminding you of that fact. He had been the one to tell you to wear this dress, he had told you that you looked like a Greek goddess and that Aphrodite herself would be jealous.

You had been to a few of Tony Stark’s parties before and each was always grander and wilder than the previous. This time though he had promised that it would be more intimate than the previous ones. Usually, half the city piled into the Stark Industries turned Avengers Tower and partied until dawn so you didn’t trust him when he said that it would be a more private event.

Low and behold, Tony Stark had been telling the truth! There were maybe one hundred to one hundred and fifty guests, which was still a lot but it was a lot of people you knew. A lot of SHIELD employees were there, Maria, Fury, the guy that played Galactica (you really should learn his name). Tony had invited the team, family, friends, reporters and even... “Is that Paris Hilton?”

“Yeah,” Tony said, appearing at your back, “I built some tech for her dog Tinkerbell so that she could talk to her years ago. She’s pretty cool.”

“My god.”

“Welcome,” Tony grinned, “Champagne?” He asked, snapping his finger and suddenly, a waiter came to you and offered you and Steve two glasses of champagne. You took one and sipped at it, “Love that dress, (y/n), love the colour.” Tony winked at you before getting caught in a conversation with Pepper.

You looked down at your dress, “Yeah, love the colour,” you muttered sardonically. Steve glanced at you, feeling a pang of sadness for you, before pointing over to Nat and Sam. Natasha smiled at you, complimenting your dress and your hair.

“Steve said the colour goes well with my eyes. He said that it’s red.” you said with a smile.

Nat looked at your sadly, “Still nothing?”

You shook your head, “No. I mean, I’m half hoping that I’ll wake up one morning, look at Steve and it’ll happen. I wish it could’ve been him.”

You and Nat had become close over the year, she was funny and kind and she always made you feel better about anything that was going on. She could also be stubborn and sarcastic but she was such a good friend, “Anyway, enough about me,” you said with a smile, “Bruce made a move yet?”

Natasha smiled as she looked over to Bruce, “Uh, yeah, actually.”

“Shut up!” You grinned, taking another sip of your drink, “When? What happened?!”

“He asked me on a date.”

As Natasha spilled the beans on her and Banner’s painfully slow budding relationship, you hadn’t noticed someone walking up to Steve who stood a few feet away and hugged him. You didn’t notice Steve’s laughter and comment of, “It’s so good to see you, man.”

After a few minutes, Steve interrupts you and Natasha, “Sorry, sweetheart, there’s someone really important that I want you to meet.”

You cock your head, “Sure, who is it?”

You can’t see them, Steve’s figure hides whoever it is. Steve grins and you can tell whoever it is is super important to him, “(y/n), I’d love for you to meet my best friend. (y/n) meet Bucky and Bucky meet (y/n).”

Steve steps to the side and your eyes look up and suddenly, you’re staring into the most intense blue eyes, “Bucky...” You whisper as colour floods your senses. The black and white fades from view and instead, colour floods into your vision. There he is, Bucky, the best friend of your boyfriend and apparently... your soulmate.

Oh, fuck.

Bucky’s smile falls as colour floods into his vision and he finds himself staring into your eyes, the first colour that he saw; the first face he’d seen in colour; his soulmate. The two of you stare at the other, unable to move or speak. Steve watches the two of you curiously, “You two okay? Don’t tell me you hate each other already.” You didn’t know what to do. How could you tell your boyfriend that his best friend was your soulmate? You couldn’t. You knew that it would crush Steve. You open your mouth but nothing comes out.

It’s Bucky who forces himself to look away from you and clears his throat, a smile plastered on his face, “No, just surprised that you never mentioned how beautiful (y/n) is.” He’s handsome, you’d known that for ages by all of the photos that Steve had shown you but he’s really handsome with a tanned complexion and short dark hair. His eyes were a deep shade of (what you would soon learn to be) blue and they were lovely. They looked sad; haunted almost and had such intensity that it made you feel self-conscious the longer you stared at each other. He wore dark pants and a white shirt that had the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, his metal arm glinting in the light. Bucky Barnes was your soulmate. 

Steve’s arm wraps around your waist and pulls you into his side as he presses a kiss to your forehead, “I’ve heard so much about you,” you say, forcing a smile, “Steve talks about you all the time.”

Bucky extends his hand, almost unsure whether he wants to make physical contact with you. You look at his hand and up to his eyes before extending your own hand and shaking it. He has a firm handshake with calloused hands from years of dealing with weapons and you let go of the breath you didn’t know you were holding. There wasn’t a spark or that electricity that people talk about. People described touching their soulmate like being shocked yet it was just a hand and it was just for a second.

Bucky smiles as he drops his hand, “I hope it’s all good stuff he’s been saying.”

“Of course,” you say, “I thought you were Wakanda though.”

“I was,” Bucky nods, “but I’ve been free from HYDRA for a few months now and I felt confident enough to come home again.”

“Even got a new haircut,” Steve grins, reaching out to ruffle Bucky’s newly cropped in hair.

Bucky rolls his eyes, “You remember when you were the five foot four scrawny kid that could barely reach my head if you reached up? I miss that.”

Your head hurts from all of the bright colours; so many bright colours all around you that made you wince. You didn’t know how people just adapted to the bright colours. There were so many and you didn’t know what their names were, “Excuse me, I’m just going to get some air.”

You turned on your heel and left, trying to ignore Bucky’s eyes that bore into the side of your skull and instead walked towards Tony’s balcony. You could feel your breathing quicken as your heels tapped on the marble floors as panic rose in your chest along with an overwhelming sense of guilt.

Turning the handle, you opened the balcony doors and slipped out. Thankfully no one else was here so you were free to express whatever emotion you wanted. You looked out at the city, away from the party, as you let yourself feel. The city was beautiful, overwhelmingly so. Your hands trembled as they clung to the railing, terrified of what was going to happen next. Bucky Barnes, Steve’s best friend, was your soulmate. Out of the seven billion people in the world and your soulmate just had to be your boyfriend’s best friend.

Your breathing was ragged as you tried to calm down your sense of panic as bile rose in your throat. Squeezing your eyes closed, you breathed in deeply through your nose, “You’re okay,” you whispered to yourself, repeating the mantra over and over.

You were so focused that you didn’t realise someone else had stepped outside with you and were approaching you, “Look at the sky,” the voice said; the voice that made a shiver creep down your spine, “It’s okay, just look to the sky, (y/n).”

Opening your eyes, you looked to the sky. You didn’t need to look to know that it was Bucky, “The night sky is the same as it always was; still dark with white stars. Slow your breathing down and focus on the stars.” You did as he instructed, forcing yourself to breathe slower and deeper and forcing yourself to look only at the stars. It was minutes later when your breathing was slow that you felt confident enough to look out at the city, “How you feeling?”

“Overwhelmed,” was all you said.

Bucky nodded, leaning against the railing and looking out, “They’re amazing, aren’t they?” He asked, sparing you a glance, “Colours, I mean. I have no idea what each one is. I don’t know what’s blue or red or green but they’re beautiful.”

You nodded, “Yeah... What colour of eyes do you have?”

“I’ve been told blue, why?”

You pointed, “That colour. That billboard that’s talking about pizza. That’s blue. It’s the same colour as your eyes.” It was a lovely shade of blue actually; a deeper, more intense blue.

Bucky pointed to a flashing light across the way, “That’s the same colour as your dress.”

“Red. Steve told me that this dress is red.” You looked over at the light, “I’m too scared to look at the dress. It doesn’t feel right. He bought me this dress, he compliments how well it suits me and I’ve just discovered colour with his best friend.”

“I know... It’s the last thing I wanted or thought would happen.”

“Honestly, I would’ve preferred my soulmate be Loki, no offense, but that would’ve been much easier than this.” 

Bucky laughed slightly, “I’ll drink to that.” He drained the rest of his champagne before setting it down on the ledge, “Steve told me all about you. Whenever we’d call, all he wanted to talk about was you.”

“All Steve liked to talk about was you,” you said to him, “I suppose we’re the greatest loves of his life right here, Peggy aside.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Told you about Peggy, huh?” You responded with an ‘of course’. Silence falls on the two of you and it’s Bucky who breaks the silence a minute later, “Look, it’s gonna be awkward. We can try and pretend this isn’t there but we’ll always know but... I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, “Shouldn’t we tell him?”

Bucky shrugs, “If that’s what you want.” I don’t know what I want right now. I want to have never met you, Bucky Barnes. I want to go home and to curl into bed with my boyfriend. I want black and white vision back, “This would... destroy him. I don’t know if I’m prepared to tell him, not yet at least. Could you?”

You thought about it, going through scenarios in your head, “I want to but... I don’t want hurt him.”

Bucky nods and looks out towards the cityscape again, “So, it’s decided. We keep it a secret and don’t worry, we can try and avoid each other and pretend that nothing’s happened... Deal?”

You nod, “Bucky... I’m sorry.” You didn’t know why you apologised but you felt a pang of guilt that you’re his soulmate and nothing can happen between the two of you.

Bucky laughs but you notice that it seems a little forced, “If only I’d met you first, doll, eh?” You laugh with him slightly, only quiet and only for a second, “I’m sorry too. This isn’t easy so I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to avoid me like I’m the plague,” you tell him, “I don’t want Steve to get suspicious but he’ll get suspicious if we’re never around each other...” Bucky nods and tells you that he understands, “My god, it’s all a bit complicated.”

You feel a pang of guilt again that you’d be hiding it from Steve but it’s for the best. At least for just now until you and Bucky kind of understood everything and got a hang of the new world in front of you. You didn’t want to lie to him but you couldn’t tell him this... not yet anyway. Bucky mirrors you and sighs, “It’s for the best.” He nods, “We’ll tell him eventually...”

Bucky gives you one last smile before he turns and leaves. He pauses and walks back over to you, “It’s nice to finally meet you, (y/n).” He says sincerely, “You really are beautiful, Steve’s a lucky guy.”

You look up at Bucky and you know that anyone would kill for him to be their soulmate, “It’s nice to meet you too, Bucky,” you say, voice barely louder than a whisper, “It’s nice to finally know who my soulmate is even if it can never happen.”

He takes a breath before going inside and it’s then that you finally look down at your dress. The colour surprises you, it’s bright yet dark and deep and rich and it’s beautiful. Steve had done a good job picking this one out. You lift your head and notice Steve approaching from inside.

You turn your back to him, taking a deep breath, before he’s beside you, “I saw the two of you talking,” he says happily, “You like him?”

You turn to him, about to say something when you falter. His eyes. His marvellous blue eyes. They were a few shades lighter than Bucky’s, brighter. You find yourself melting into them. You love them. Steve says your name, snapping you out of your trance, “Sorry, champagne went straight to my head. Uh, yeah, he’s lovely,” you say with a quick smile, “He thinks really highly of you, Steve.”

Steve grins, “I’m so glad that the two of you get along, I was so worried in case you didn’t. I was even worried in case it turned out that you two were soulmates because Bucky sees black and white too!” Steve laughs and you want to cry. You want to blurt out the truth; you should have told him. Dear god, you should have told him then and there but you don’t. Instead you force a laugh and laugh with him. Steve notices nothing.

You talk for a few more minutes before you tell him that you’re really tired and have a migraine coming. It’s not a lie. “Can we go home?” Steve nods, shrugging his suit jacket off and draping it over your shoulders.

“Let’s go.” He leads you back inside and you find yourself unable to look at anything other than the floor, “Let me say bye to everyone first, okay?” He presses a kiss to your temple before weaving through the crowd to find the team and say bye. He’s back barely a moment later and as your leaving you accidentally bump into something hard; really hard.

“Jesus!” You hiss, grabbing your shoulder.

“Shit, sorry-” It’s Bucky. Of course it is. Of course. You can barely look him in the the eye longer than a second, “You okay? I promise the other one isn’t that hard.”

Steve mimics his question of asking if you’re okay, you nod, “Yeah, I’m okay. Sorry, I’ve got a migraine, didn’t see you.”

“You know, I have a migraine coming on too,” Bucky says, rubbing his head. That was what finally seeing colour did to you, you supposed. “You two heading home?”

Steve nods, “Yeah... What about hanging out some point this week?” He asks Bucky, “You could come for dinner... Sunday?” Steve looks to you, “We’re not busy, are we?” You shake your head.

Bucky glances at you almost looking for your approval before he answers. You give the tiniest of nods and Bucky relaxes, “Yeah, sure. Sunday sounds great.”

Steve grins and the pair hug, “I’ll text you tomorrow and we’ll set it up.”

As the pair say their goodbyes, you look up at Bucky, meeting those blue eyes. God, you just need to go home and sleep. Maybe this is all a bad dream, maybe tomorrow you’ll wake up and everything will be black and white again and the guilt will be gone. You muster up the strength to say goodbye to Bucky before Steve leads you out of Stark Tower.

It’s a long car ride home and you’re only fifteen minutes away in a car. The drive is long and all you can think about is Bucky, nothing romantic but more you couldn’t believe that your soulmate is Bucky. The universe is fucked up; getting off on causing the biggest love triangle of the 21st century.

Steve asks if you’re okay and all you can say is, “Tired.” He frowns at you, knowing something’s bothering you. He knows you the best out of anyone on his planet so he knows exactly when something’s wrong. He puts it down to the migraine and tiredness but there’s something niggling in the back of his mind as he drives you both home, something that makes him think that something else is wrong and bothering you.

As soon as you get to Steve’s apartment, you kick off your shoes and ask him to unzip you. He does and immediately, you step out of your dress and go to put some pyjamas on. He picks up your dress and follows you into the bedroom,  “Are you sure that nothing is wrong?”

You sigh, “I’m fine, really. This migraine is just doing a number on me and I’m tired. I think I just need to sleep.” Steve lets you get dressed and brush your teeth. When you come back into the bedroom, he’s in bed waiting for you with a bottle of water and some migraine tablets, “God, I love you, Steve Rogers.” You take the medication and the water and set it down on the bedside cabinet. 

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead once you’re settled into bed, “Get some sleep, sweetheart. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

Something you always envied about Steve was his ability to fall asleep quickly. He always said that it was a perk of the super solider serum. Within three minutes, Captain America is snoring beside you, arms wrapped around you tightly. You try to sleep but all you can think about, all you see when you close your eyes is Bucky’s piercing dark eyes staring into your soul. When you do get to sleep, those blue eyes haunt you.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky can’t get your face out of his head. He lays on the floor of his apartment, the cold wood cooling the heat of his body. He can’t stop thinking about you. After years of wondering who his soulmate is he can’t seem to wrap his head around the fact that it’s his best friends girl. Bucky sighs and rolls over.

If only I met you first, doll, eh?

[too-gay-for-marvel]

just this once pt.5

a/n: yall. yall im on a roll. and no i will not apologise for anything that happens in this chapter. also, still learning how to do taglists so if it doesn’t work or you weren’t included, send me a message and i’ll try to get it fixed!

Word Count: 4,285 

Warnings: canon typical violence, non-explicit mentions of torture, mutant experimentation

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6.1 pt.6.2 pt.6.3 pt.7 pt.8)

“I think Fury is giving you a sign.”

Natasha looked up from her paperwork to see Maria leaning against the door frame to her office. She herself had just gotten back from a mission, evident in her slightly mused ponytail and gun still on her hip. A very beyond attractive look, if Natasha had to say it.

“What do you mean?” Natasha asked, leaning back in her chair to give her full attention to her fiancee.

“So he didn’t tell you,” Maria said with a nod. She pushed herself off the door frame and moved to sit in the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

“I’ll admit that gives me a clue,” Natasha said with a small frown. She didn’t like where this was going.

“He’s sending you on another mission,” Maria replied. “With Y/N.”

“I thought we told him emergencies only,” Natasha mused more to herself than to Maria.

It seemed like Nick was sending the both of you on every mission he could possibly come up with. He needed some information. Then he wanted the layout of a base. Then he wanted some recon on security in another location. All were things that Natasha not only could have done with someone else, but she could have gotten them done on her own.

He seemed to think differently.

“He wants you to leave tomorrow,” Maria continued, bringing Natasha out of her pouting. “Personnel recovery.”

“At least that gives us a few hours together,” Natasha said with a small smile.

“Maybe we can finally get some planning done,” Maria nodded as she stood up. “Maybe a colour scheme?”

“Red and black,” Natasha shot back.

“We’ll argue about it later,” Maria smiled. She walked over and tilted Natasha’s chin up to give her a quick kiss before leaving the office, presumably to get cleaned up.

Natasha looked down at her paperwork for not even five minutes before deciding she was going to rush upstairs and surprise Maria in the shower. She had just started piling the papers up when you walked in, harpoon on hip and soaking wet.

“Did you ask Fury for another mission?” You asked as you plopped into the chair opposite her, water instantly dripping down the sides of the seat.

“No,” Natasha said curtly, hoping she could get you out of her office sooner if she didn’t invite conversation.

“Then why is he sending us together?” You asked. Your fingers started combing through your hair, the webs gathering whatever was stuck. Drops of water splashed onto Natasha’s pristine papers.

“I don’t know,” Natasha said again, turning her lip up when you put a piece of seaweed on her desk.

“I thought you knew everything,” you huffed, staring intently as a shell you had pulled out of your suit sleeve.

“Well clearly not,” Natasha mumbled to herself.

You leaned over to rest your elbows on the desk, your dripping wet hair leaving puddles on the mahogany and her papers. Natasha set her jaw and gave you a look, keeping eye contact. But your eyes gave off that mischievous sparkle, the one that would make any woman swoon. And Natasha’s heart raced.

“Think I can get that in writing?” You asked with a raised brow. “You know, for the next time you act like a know-it-all.”

“Did you just come in here to act like an ass?” Natasha asked as she picked her papers up and started walking out.

“Actually,” you started as you pushed away from the desk and stood up, “I’m here to bring you this.”

You held your open hand out, palm up, and Natasha looked cautiously to see what it was. In the middle of your palm was a whole shell, with a small black pearl in the centre. It looked absolutely stunning, and Natasha reached out to gently take it.

“Why did you bring this to me?” Natasha asked, although she feared she already knew your answer.

“Cheeseburger found the shell the other day,” you shrugged, “and Roger got the pearl out.”

Natasha did her best not to chuckle at the silly names you had given the octopus and otter that usually inhabited your moon pool. Cheeseburger, the octopus, had lost two limbs and had a nasty habit of stealing your cheeseburgers (hence the name), while Roger was an in-progress rehabilitation project. Unfortunately, the three of you were like peas in a pod.

“It’s beautiful,” Natasha mused, her eyes still glued to the pearl. “But I can’t take this home to my fiancee.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. The space between the both of you increased as you visibly took a step back, and Natasha missed the closeness. Things had seemed normal only a moment ago, and now she could feel you closing yourself off to her, going cold once again.

“Then give it to Maria,” you shrugged. “Get some brownie points before going off on another mission with her favourite person.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Natasha shot back. “I just don’t want to waste your gift.”

“It was just cluttering up my space,” you replied, voice cold.

“Give it to Yelena,” Natasha said softly, holding the shell and pearl back out for you to take. “She would love it.”

“Yelena,” you huffed with a small smile. A sad smile. You grabbed the shell from her hand rather roughly, causing Natasha to flinch. “Thanks for the input.”

“Y/N,” Natasha started, but you were already walking away in the opposite direction, head high and feet dragging.

Natasha sighed and started her own way back to her floor. She wanted Maria to distract her. From you.

———

“What’s our objective again?” You shouted from the back of the quinjet.

“Personnel recovery,” Yelena answered. “Some scientist wanted out of AIM.”

“Why is that my responsibility?” You continued. Your boots echoed off the floor and you popped your head in between Yelena’s and Natasha’s chairs.

“Because something smelled-”

“Don’t,” Natasha interrupted.

“-fishy,” Yelena finished anyway, and both you and Natasha groaned as she just laughed at herself.

“I’m not paid enough for this,” Natasha mumbled to herself before turning her head and looking out the windows.

“I’ll throttle you,” you said as you lightly slapped Yelena upside the head.

“Listen,” she tried to say around another round of giggles, “if Fury ever told me his plans, I wouldn’t be stuck here with you two.”

“Well why don’t you find out? I wanna know why he’s sending me on this mission.”

“I already told you, I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you know? Surely you must have some kind of-”

“Can you both shut up?” Natasha shouted. The both of you grew silent immediately, and Natasha finally let out a breath and tried to rub her growing migraine away.

“Should’ve just sent Nat,” you grumbled. “She’s grumpy enough to scare everyone away all on her own.”

Yelena snorted, and when Natasha shot a look her way, she tried her best to look out the window. You, on the other hand, held up to her challenge and met her eyes. That ridiculous smirk refused to disappear, and Natasha wanted so desperately to wipe it off your face. But instead she just turned back around and looked out the window once again.

The rest of the trip was silent, only the occasional update being spoken aloud. Yelena managed to drop the both of you off and stayed in the jet, more than ready for when you both got back and could get back to the Tower for a well-deserved weekend.

It was a quick jog to the location, with tents and cages set up all around the landing port. The building was a few stories tall, but well fortified with guards around every corner. The majority of cages were empty, but every now and then you could hear a bear, a dog, a human.

“I thought these guys were scientists,” you whispered from where you were crouched beside Natasha.

“They are,” Natasha nodded.

“Must be pretty paranoid then,” you continued.

“You would be too if your work relied on illegal mutant experimentation,” Natasha clarified. You didn’t say anything else, but she could see your knuckles going pale.

“Let’s get our man and go,” you practically growled. “Before I kill them all.”

Natasha knew you weren’t joking.

You both went in opposite directions, you heading to the back door and Natasha heading to the side. There was no guaranteeing that the scientist was even inside at all, but that was the easiest place to check. There was too much vulnerability outside and Natasha wasn’t going to risk getting caught and failing another mission.

“How are we supposed to find one nerd in a facility full of nerds?” You asked over the intercoms, and Natasha assumed you had made it into the building.

“Be nice,” Natasha whispered, “not all scientists are nerds.”

“Bruce and Tony are,” you replied. Natasha pulled herself against a wall when she heard voices. “Everyone here is.”

“Hush,” Natasha whispered. You remained silent as Natasha listened to footsteps getting closer, and then turning into the opposite direction. She let out a quiet breath.

“Do we really want to help someone who’s torturing mutants?” You asked again, a barely contained anger in your voice.

Natasha rounded another corner, trying to come up with an answer for you. You weren’t wrong; she didn’t like the idea either. Why save the scientist when you could save the people instead? But Fury wanted him, and there had to be a reason for it. The location was known, so someone could always come back to save them another day.

“Nick will send us back another day,” Natasha finally said out loud. You huffed on the other end of the comms.

You both continued through the facility, methodically clearing rooms until finally you indicated you had found him. Some wiry man with broken glasses, according to your description. Natasha gave confirmation and headed to the meet up point, somewhere on the second floor. Once Natasha was about to round the corner to the location, she could hear your voice carrying through the halls.

“You’re lucky I don’t wring your neck myself.”

“What’s the problem?” Natasha asked as soon as she saw you.

You were right. The man was wiry and nerdy, something you would expect from a mad scientist in a comic book. White tape was wrapped around the nose piece of his glasses in stereotypical fashion and he was hunched over like the world was resting on his shoulders.

No surprise, considering you were hovering nearly a foot over him.

“He called me an animal,” you seethed, your hands visibly shaking with the desire to have them around the man’s neck.

“Look at your arms and neck, what else could you be?” He asked in a gruff New Jersey accent.

“You want an animal? I’ll show you an-”

“That’s enough,” Natasha demanded. She stepped in between the both of you and pushed you away, not even bothering to get near the man.

“If he has to go with us, then so does one of the mutants,” you said, leaving no room for argument in your voice.

“We can’t risk it, we’re leaving them here,” Natasha said quickly. The hair on the back of her neck was starting to stand up and her stomach felt like it was dropping.

“I’m not leaving them and taking that,” you said through clenched teeth while pointing at the scientist.

“You’re going to risk my life for one of them?” He asked, his face drawn in disgust at the mere thought that his life was equal to a mutant’s. Natasha wanted to strangle him.

“We will come back for them another day,” Natasha said again, but you didn’t look convinced.

“I’m not leaving without them, so you’re gonna have to wait,” you shot back.

Voices could be heard in the stairwell a few halls away.

“And I’m not risking another mission,” Natasha argued, walking closer to you and forcing you to step backward to keep your space.

“If you think I’m taking that and leaving one of those kids then you’re-”

Click.

The both of you froze, your eyes boring into Natasha’s. A heavy silence fell upon the both of you, so thick Natasha struggled to draw breath. Her heart was pounding in her ears and that feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach returned.

And then your eyes left hers, trailing down to the too-tight cuffs that were now keeping you chained to the pipes against the wall. They weren’t the usual police handcuffs, but the kind that they had used on Loki after the invasion of New York.

You weren’t getting out of them.

“Natasha,” you started, your eyes moving back to meet hers.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha whispered. She took one heavy step back, never taking her eyes off of you.

“Unlock them,” you continued. Your chest was starting to rise and fall slightly faster.

“Someone will come for you,” Natasha said again with a slight nod.

Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

“Get back here, Romanoff,” you said as Natasha started leading the scientist down the hall.

Away from you.

She didn’t answer. She just felt her leaden boots take step after step, leading her further away from where you were chained. When she didn’t answer, she heard the sound of metal pulling against metal and your grunts and groans as you tried to yank the cuffs off.

“You can’t leave me here!” You shouted, your voice echoing down the hall after Natasha had turned the final corner.

She heard other voices coming from the same direction as yours, quickly followed by shouting and the solid thuds of blows being landed.

“Natalia!” You shouted again once Natasha had opened the door to lead the scientist out.

Only moments after the door shut, Natasha heard your scream. A scream of anger and frustration, a scream that reached down Natasha’s throat and ripped her heart out. The prick of tears in her eyes left a sinking feeling in her gut, left her feeling empty and a broken shell.

But she had a mission. And she was going to complete it.

She shoved the scientist in the direction of the quinjet and didn’t look back. Ignoring the whining and complaining coming from the man and eventually just throwing him into the back of the quinjet, ignoring the way Yelena jumped at the sudden noise.

“Where’s Y/N?” Yelena asked, moving her head around, trying to see if you were close behind.

“Get us in the air,” Natasha ordered. Tears pricked her eyes once again.

“Are they coming?” Yelena asked again, ignoring Natasha’s order.

“I said get us in the air, now.”

Yelena gave Natasha a look that sent a shiver down her spine, but turned around and got the jet in the air nonetheless. The scientist pulled himself into the seat next to Natasha. He seemed much more relaxed, and Natasha couldn’t blame him. He probably didn’t realise just how much had been risked to get him back to SHIELD.

“You made the right choice,” he said after some unbearable silence. Natasha turned to look at him, her brows pulled together.

“Excuse me?”

“You made the right choice,” he said again with an enthusiastic nod. “You never know what those animals might do-”

He was cut off with a choked gasp as Natasha slammed her elbow into his face, and he quickly lost consciousness.

“Just shut up,” she mumbled to herself, knowing he couldn’t hear her.

It didn’t make her feel any better.

———

It was six weeks before the party had been dispatched to get you back.  The party had consisted of Natasha, Yelena, and Wanda, and there was going to be nothing extra. They were going to get you out and get back to SHIELD, no side missions, no stops, no questions.

Maybe it just so happened that the only way to get you was to burn the facility to the ground and get the rest of the mutants out. Maybe they had called for a second quinjet to arrive to make sure everyone was able to get out safely.

Yelena and Wanda were tasked with getting everyone on the jets and eliminating the few soldiers remaining while Natasha had scoured the facility top to bottom to find you. There was a large portion of the basement that Natasha had found, filled with surgical equipment and things that would have been enough to give anyone nightmares.

And you were there, nude, in a too-small empty glass tank with a chain around your ankle. There were rips and tears in the thin membranes between your spines, and a dark black mark on your left shoulder blade. From her angle, it looked like some kind of gunk was stuck in your gills. You were curled up into a fetal position and kept your eyes glued to the ground directly in front of you.

“Y/N,” Natasha said, her gun still drawn but lowered.

“I should thank you, Miss Romanoff,” a voice called, and Natasha spun with gun raised to find a scientist walk forward, standing near a panel by your tank. “You gave me my greatest obsession.”

“How about you just let them out and I don’t kill you,” Natasha shrugged.

“I’ve learned a lot from our little friend,” he continued, ignoring her. “And you’re in time to see the results of something I’ve been working on.”

“Let them go,” Natasha said again. She cocked the gun, but the man laughed.

“I hear drowning is a horrible way to die,” he said, still ignoring her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Natasha saw you raise your head and look at her. The dark spots under your eyes were beyond evident, sticking out against the sickened colour of your skin. There was no emotion in your eyes, not even a silent plea for help.

You looked like you had already accepted death.

“How long do you think a sea creature can hold its breath underwater before it needs to breathe?” He asked, his fingers typing against the panel.

“Don’t,” Natasha shouted, her trigger finger pulling instinctively and burying a bullet into the man’s chest. He was dead before he hit the floor.

Water started filling your tank, and you stood up to get your head as tall as it could get. Natasha nodded at you once, and you covered your head as she fired shot after shot at the tank. But there wasn’t even a dent, nothing to indicate that the tank could be broken.

“What do I do?” Natasha asked as she ran up to the tank, watching the water slowly rise to your ankles.

You didn’t speak, didn’t open your mouth, instead pointing as best you could to a discrete pipe against the opposite wall. Natasha looked at it and followed the direction until she saw a lone wheel connected to the wall. A wheel that could control the water flow.

“Stay here,” Natasha told you as she ran off, grimacing to herself. It wasn’t like you had anywhere to go.

She grabbed the wheel and pulled, but it didn’t budge. It felt like she was trying to pull a quinjet with her bare hands; an impossible task in and of itself. Her eyes trailed over to see the water had reached your waist. There had to be something else she could get, something to help.

The thud of your hands on the glass made her turn, and you were pointing in another direction. Her eyes followed, but there wasn’t anything she could see that would immediately-

A pipe.

Natasha sprinted to grab it from the table, nearly dropping it in her haste to get back to the wheel. The water was up to your neck, and Natasha could already see that your gills weren’t filtering anything. They stayed terribly still, and Natasha had to drag her feet to get back to the wheel.

She stuck the pipe into the empty spaces of the wheel and pulled, yelling in frustration until it finally moved. She continued pulling until she heard the flow of water stop, and a tired smile etched itself onto her lips as she turned back around to see you.

But the water was over your head, and now she was leaving you to drown.

She couldn’t break the glass; the water was off and you were still drowning. Your eyes were wide, and the fear of the situation finally made its way onto your face as you curled in on yourself and started pulling at the chain around your ankle, air bubbles escaping from your nose at a rapid rate.

Natasha got an idea. She didn’t hesitate as she started pushing the pipe, the flow of water rushing back. Only this time, she didn’t stop until the pipes rattled with the flow, barely able to contain the volume inside. She pushed until the pipe stuck, and she turned and ran back to the tank.

Your eyes were closing, the air bubbles almost nonexistent, your struggle against the chain ending. Natasha started banging on the glass, trying to keep you awake, but you didn’t move, instead just floating, and Natasha felt her heart sink.

The glass creaked under her fingers. Natasha’s eyes shot open and she watched the glass, noting the single crack that started to web across the entirety of the tank. She barely had time to step aside as the glass shattered, water shooting out and leaving you to drop to the ground.

When you didn’t move, Natasha jumped forward, dropping to the ground and immediately starting CPR. She could feel a rib break, maybe two, but she didn’t stop. She wasn’t going to stop until you could breathe. You just needed to fucking breathe-

Your body shuddered as you choked, coughing up water before your eyes shot open. Natasha felt herself let out a shaky breath, but she didn’t let herself rest. She grabbed her gun and shot where the chain was connected to the floor, listening to it break before grabbing you and pulling you up.

“You need to lose some weight,” Natasha groaned as you leaned on her side, your feet barely moving.

You didn’t say a word the whole trip out of the facility. Just managed to  drag yourself out, eventually walking more on your own when you neared the quinjet. Yelena ran up to the both of you and got on your other side, sharing a look with Natasha.

“I’ve got it,” Yelena said in a tone that told Natasha to let go and give her some space.

Natasha did, watching as Yelena finished dragging you to the quinjet and putting you in a seat before wrapping a blanket around your naked form. Your eyes fell back to the ground when Yelena finally got the jet in the air, and you refused to look at anyone when you got back to the Tower, leaving Natasha without a second thought.

———

Natasha was sitting at the bar on the common floor, picking apart her food. She had tried to see you multiple times over the past two weeks, only to be turned away by doctors or Yelena. There was something wrong, but Natasha couldn’t find out because no one would let her.

The ding of the elevator had her turning her head, not necessarily eager but casually curious on who had appeared. To her surprise, Yelena walked out with a McDonald’s bag in hand, some drink in the other. She didn’t look happy, but Natasha could’ve expected that.

After all, Yelena hadn’t forgiven her.

“How are they?” Natasha asked.

“Alive, no thanks to you,” Yelena shot back. But she had stopped and was talking back; that was an improvement from the past two weeks.

“I had a mission,” Natasha said, but her voice was small, weak.

“They were part of that mission,” Yelena answered.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha said quietly. She said it to assuage her own guilt. It didn’t work.

“You’re stringing them along,” Yelena said, her voice taking a different tone that Natasha hadn’t been expecting. “Just marry Maria already and end the suffering.”

“I’m not stringing them along,” Natasha defended.

But she knew she was wrong. Yelena was right. And Natasha wasn’t going to stop because what would her life be without you? How could she go about her day-to-day life if she knew you weren’t going to be there in some fashion? Maybe she was in love with Maria and was going to marry her, but that didn’t mean she wanted to throw you away.

“Just be gentle,” Yelena said with a sigh. “Everyone has feelings at stake.”

“And you?” Natasha asked, causing Yelena to freeze. “What feelings do you have at stake?”

A small, sad smile made its way onto her face.

“Desire,��� Yelena shrugged, but just like that her demeanour changed. “Y/N said I couldn’t eat before them, and I very much desire this McChicken.”

“You’re disgusting,” Natasha chuckled.

“And this McFlurry. You know the good stuff,” Yelena teased again, causing the both of them to laugh.

“Then go on,” Natasha motioned toward where she assumed you were waiting. “I’d hate for the two of you to starve.”

Yelena gave her a smile, one like the good old days, and continued her walk. She stopped in the doorway and turned around.

“Oh, Fury wanted me to tell you something.” Natasha gave her a look for her to continue. “You and Y/N are going undercover. As a couple.” With that, Yelena continued off, leaving Natasha to deal with the news.

Why couldn’t things ever be easy?

Taglist: @wickedmuses @m-zne237 @noodlybees @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo @gottacamz @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday @santasbitch @when-wolves-howl @madamevirgo​ @hopingforromanoff​ 

[stressed-chaos]

Memories - Part 7

They finally talk! This one has more dialogues, since it's after all...a talk. Some earlier parts have a lot of talking. Still, this has a lot of parts.

This story is also on wattpad if anyone wants to read it there, I'll put the link in the masterlist.

Hope this part is nice!

(Gif not mine)

Conversation flowed easily on the way, neither of them talking about her memories. After almost twenty minutes of walking, which felt too quick to both of them, though they won't admit it. He was surprised on seeing her place because even if Ben was keeping an eye on her and was her husband, he respected her privacy.

Her 'home-sweet-home' wasn't much but it was exactly the kind of thing she would do. It was cozy, not much furniture inside cause 'she liked to keep space for unplanned dance sessions.' There was a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and little office type room. Basically all the necessities. Not to mention it was messy.

There was a coffee table with a little box on it, a small tv, a bookshelf loaded with books like how was it not breaking, she clearly needed a bigger one...though she clearly had one at their house, but didn't know about it. The curtains weren't vibrantly coloured, little homemade decorations hung here and there, about 5 frames with some photos of her and Harry and scenery, and cream coloured walls with little origami hung on it. Oh and the Avengers clock was her favorite.

Her bedroom wall was filled with posters favorite bands, shows and movies. There was one vibrant poster from Chronicles of Narnia too but it was from the first one and didn't have him. A little desk with a journal kept on it with a bunny pen stand. A wardrobe large enough for one person and again some origami stuff hung here and there along with— "Are those Christmas decorations?"

"Huh? Oh...those. I forgot to take them down."

He looked back at her to find her rummaging through her fridge, trying to find something to eat. Taking out a chocolate she started eating it, before realizing that Ben was also there and offered him some. Taking some of it, he sat down on her brown straight out of The Big Bang Theory couch.

"Do you have any orange slices?" Ben questioned.

"Uh, sorry...but I have some kiwis if you want?"

"No, it's alright. Okay, so tell me what you know."

"First off, I have a question," hearing him respond with a shoot, she continued, "What is— or well was, my favorite ice-cream flavor?"

He chuckled loudly, "Really?"

"Hey, that's an important thing."

"Right right...very important. Um, it was...Bucky road."

Y/N snickered. "Rocky road, you mean."

"You insisted on calling it that. Anyway, so tell me, what all do you know."

She thought out with a pout, which was adorable in Ben's opinion, "Uh...well my name, Y/N Parker, birth date without the year, my favorite ice cream flavor as you told me and that fact that I have an older brother, not who...just I know I have one. And no partners. Oh and before you tell me about me, tell me how I know you."

Ben's happy expression faltered when she mentioned she had no partners, nervousness building. "We have been friends...since childhood actually."

Y/N's face flushed with guilt, she was expecting that they were colleagues or maybe friends for some years, but childhood!? Damn. Her insides flooded with regret. "I'm so so sorry. I didn't know," her tone proving her feelings.

Ben shrugged it off knowing it was not her fault. "It's okay, you lost your memories after all. You lost them about a year ago as you said but it actually happened a year and almost two months ago." He spoke with a far away look in his eyes, clearly remembering those events.

Ben was pacing around his living room, looking out the window for the tenth time in the past sixty seconds. His other hand was busy frantically calling his wife who was out with some friends while he remained home cause he wasn't feeling like it. Oh how he wished he did.

It has been almost 3 hours since she had been out, which wouldn't have been a problem if she had not said that she would return within an hour. His worries were reaching the roof which didn't help with the fact that he was starting to feel sick. He tried calling her friends but they were also not picking up, probably were too wasted to care. But his wife could've picked up, she doesn't drink anyway. And if she was going to be the designated driver, she would have told him. Unless...he ran out to his car, panicked.

Reaching the destination, he was disappointed to find that she wasn't there, nor her friends. He started looking around and relief washed over his face instantly as he saw her friend, Edward frantically searching for something, making him tense. He rushed to him and said while grabbing Edward's shoulders to steady him, "Hey, where is Y/N? She didn't call and I was getting worried."

Edward's face paled as soon as he saw Ben, instantly becoming a stuttering mess, "Hey! Ben...what are you...right Y/N...she...she must be...here somewhere. We're looking...looking for her."

Ben's worry rocketed to Jupiter. "What do you mean?"

"We kind of...well not kind of...but we lost her. She was just going to go to her car and...grab some stuff before going home. But that clearly didn't happen."

Benjamin Thomas Barnes did not lose his shit easily. He was usually the calm and collected one of the two and his group, even while playing Monopoly. But the second he heard those words coming out of his friend's mouth, he lost it. "WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN? HOW CAN YOU LOSE A GROWN WOMAN?"

"We don't know...she went and didn't come back...if we would have known, WE WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SEARCHING FOR HER BARKING MAD, DIPSHIT."

Ignoring his reply, Ben eagerly picked up his phone and called the police, informing them about everything.

They said they would find her soon.

-

-

-

What. A. Fucking. Lie.

It's been 2 months since she went missing and Ben's life became more and more miserable as the days passed. 60 days without her. He usually hadn't been away from her for more than a month, despite their careers. But now he was forced to spend 1440 hours without her, each hour dragging like 20. He was restless, bags clearly visible under his eyes and he had lost his appetite. He also heard someone mention he looked like a zombie, or maybe a robot, following the same instructions fed to him everyday and to be honest, he felt like one too.

He promised to pray to every Saint in existence if she would ever be found. He called the police station every time, to the point where he could sense that they were probably getting annoyed by those everyday calls, but he did not give a shit. Especially not when his wife's life was on the line. He had been sulking in the apartment, calling people, refusing any help and trying his best to keep himself from breaking. He was the most vulnerable during those two months, and the one person he could confide in, wasn't there.

His parents were worried too, and were trying and taking care of Ben, reminding him to eat, sleep but at this point, he had become a machine being fed with daily instructions. He saw photos of their time together, keeping his hopes, cause he had all the hope Pandora's box has to offer when it came to his sunshine.

Then apparently one day, he got a call saying they had found his Y/N. He never rushed somewhere faster in his life, it could almost rival Quicksilver. But primary reasons were, the address was of a hospital. He reached the destination with his heart in his hands, legs about to give away due to his nervousness. One nurse led him to her room where an officer was waiting for him.

"Officer, how is she?"

"You're Ms. Parker's husband...Ben?"

"Yes sir, I'm Ben Barnes."

"She'll be fine, at least that's what the doctor is saying. Can I ask you some questions before?"

After answering all the questions impatiently, he met with a doctor who explained to him her condition, "She has two broken ribs and her left arm also broke, there isn't much serious damage, but we are suspecting some stuff that may have caused her to lose her memories. We'll know if that's the case or not once she wakes up."

Ben's entire life shattered hearing those words, but he still held hope as the doctor wasn't sure. He rushed inside the room and froze at the sight of his unconscious wife. She had a bandage on her head, cuts on her face and some dried blood at the corner of her lips. "Those hospital people didn't even clean her up fully," he scoffed while cleaning her up.

He took her right hand in his, careful not to hurt her, chocolate eyes relieved yet distraught. He just sat silently watching her and felt his own eyes becoming drowsy with sleep, too exhausted to fight, he gave in.

After what was almost 3 hours, he woke up to some voices, "Who is this man?" He could make out one of them say and was jerked awake in a fraction of a second.

"Wha— what do you mean?"

"Oh, hey you're awake. I'm sorry...but who are you?"

"You don't— bu— how—you don't remember me?"

"I wouldn't be asking if I did sir."

Seeing the doctor's look, it finally dawned on him that they were correct about her not remembering. She had forgotten him. The love of his life doesn't even remember him. He didn't know what cruel thing he did to deserve this. She had forgotten her childhood friend, partner in crime, lover and husband all at once. Tears pooled at the corner of his eyes. He was shaken awake from his daze by one of them falling on his cheek. Realizing she was still waiting for him to respond, he made up an excuse of accidentally coming in the wrong room and ran out, ignoring her voice ringing out behind him.

Y/N felt insanely guilty at hearing this and she still hadn't heard his thoughts or the fact that she was his wife. Ben felt he shouldn't drop that bomb on her yet. Not that she would believe him anyway. I mean if someone random came and told him that they were married, he surely wouldn't believe that himself. "So...what—where did the doctors say they found me?"

"They said one nurse found you outside the hospital, nobody was with you," Ben replied remembering.

"They ever found out what happened?"

He just shook his head.

"We've really been friends that long?"

"Yeah..." he chuckled. "You used to ask me that a lot. Can't believe it's really been that long. You need to know some things about yourself first. We'll come back to us later."

Seeing her nod, he continued, "Your full name is Y/N Moon Parker. You are 28 years old, born in 1992, almost a month after me. We used to...live here in London, shared a flat. And you also are an actor. And about your family, they live in Texas, moved there after we bought a place together. And you do have an older brother, Aiden, who is about six years older than you."

"And my parents?" She was surprisingly very calm in this situation. But did a proud fist-in-the-air motion when Ben mentioned she has a brother. At least she remembers one thing, not whole, but it still works.

"Yeah, right...your parents. You, uh, well...how do I put this?" Seeing her mouth about to open, he spoke, "Now they're not gone. You see...you don't have the best relationship with them." Her face fell. "Your father was a football coach and mother is a cardiac surgeon, both retired. They...they weren't really, um...alright I'm straight up saying this...really supportive of your career choice and you guys had a fallout. That's one of the reasons you aren't really close."

"What do you mean 'one of the reasons'?" She put that in air quotes.

"Well you guys had some fights and all before...too. Strict parents...stuff. You were a rebel as a kid, it was bound to happen. I don't know if I should be telling you this, but since it's the truth, you were...more close to my parents than your own. Things are alright now, they realized they can't do anything, so they let you do your own thing. And you guys— you guys do talk, but just...general connection is less," Ben was feeling really sad telling her all this. He was there with her when all of this happened and saw the toll it took on her. Remembering it, made him feel sorrowful.

"Oh. Do they...uh...do they know?"

"Yeah. Yeah they do."

Y/N just nodded in acknowledgment, giving him a soft smile.