#even though they are given the least amount of time

[astraeus-tree]

Chapter 1

『For we're all that we need』

Disparities Between Our Souls

You were enjoying a peaceful lunch with your husband when you two were transported into your home-universe that you hadn't been in since 5 years ago

Disclaimer: This chapter focuses on Miguel and Reader, Batfam is only implied/mentioned. They will appear next chapter

Prologue <- Chapter 1

The halls of the Spider HQ were big, never failing to amaze you. The abundant amount of spidermen had surprised you when you first woke up here and to find out you were one yourself was even more of a shock.

Never in your life would you have expected to be transported into another world and become some sort of mutant, but you definitely wouldn’t change it. Especially now as you swing to your dear husband’s office.

Miguel O’hara, the leader and founder of the Spider HQ and also the one who chased after a 16 year-old boy. Yep, that was (un)fortunately your man. Thankfully that whole fiasco was over before you even arrived. From what you heard, he eventually ended up realising and coming to terms that canon events weren’t so canon and they could be altered, depending on the universe.

But enough of that. You were here today, swinging around the HQ to deliver your husband some food because you knew he would be busy taking care of the spiderverse—or as he likes to call it, ‘The Arachno-Humanoid Poly Multiverse’— to take care of himself.

With a plate of food in your hands, you swung up to the platform he was on.

“Darling, I have some food for you. Take a break and eat with me?” You asked him.

“Mi corazón, I’m busy, you know this.” He stated, almost groaning but in a teasing way.

“Miguel.” You stood your ground and watched him as he sighed, moving closer to you and pulling the screens closer. Fine, you could compromise with this, as long as he ate. “How have you been, dear? Need any help dealing with the anomalies?”

“No, not now at least. For now, they’ve mostly been in low numbers and the new recruits are usually able to deal with them themselves.”

“Alright then. Any leads as to why they’re still appearing though?”

“Still none. I would’ve hoped that they’d had disappeared when Morales was finally dealt with but they’re still ongoing. Lyla’s theorising something else it at play here and I fear she could be right.”

You stayed quiet, deep in thought. These anomalies were off, something about them had given you the wrong feeling, especially when you were on-field fighting them. You had mentioned it before to Miguel, but you both chalked it up to the fact that in technicality, you were also an anomaly, a similar but also vastly different case to Miles Morales.

“Do you think I’m related to the anomalies in some way?” You blurt out.

“As much as I hate to admit it, it’s most likely.” Your brows furrowed in concern. This further complicated the matter at hand. Being an anomaly yourself meant you were already connected to the others in some way, but if there was any chance that this relationship between you and the anomalies was any deeper, danger was most certainly waiting just around the corner. You two spent the next few moment in silence, slowly processing that possibility.

“Well enough of that. I came here so that you would finally eat, so take some.” You nudged a roll of pandesal towards him, alongside a cup of coffee. You had your own right pair next to you, standing on a makeshift table made of webs.

He sighed before muttering a small thank you under his breath and the smallest smile on his face. Well, you’d take what you could get. You both enjoyed your food and drink in silence as you sat on the ledge of the platform and Miguel continued working. It was a comfortable quiet, unspoken words of love were understood and picked up by the both of you. A small respite in both of your usually chaotic lives.

But as luck would have it, this peace did not last long. You didn’t even have time to finish your food when a portal opened up in front of the platform. You stood up quickly, stance in a fighting position, Miguel also suddenly on alert, his arm in front of you in a protective manner.

Portals were a normal thing for the both of you, an everyday use even. Yet, this was weird. No portal had ever opened up in this room. Most respected the privacy of their leader and always opened the portals outside of his office. That wasn’t even the most off-putting thing. This portal was different, the shapes and colours were all wrong, all different from the ones spawned from the gizmos on your wrists. Yet, it seemed familiar to you. Like you saw it once and then stored it at the back of your mind to forget about it. That couldn’t have been right though, any portals you’ve seen are the ones made by the watch.

You didn’t have time to worry about this though. Danger could be come out of that opening at any moment and you needed to be ready. But danger would not come to you. No. It would pull you into it instead. Quite literally when both you and your husband were tugged into the portal.

The journey through the portal was short, but most certainly not smooth. With being pulled in unexpectedly and the inside itself feeling like it was tossing you around, the landing was rough. It felt like you were picked up and were thrown away carelessly with indifference.

Miguel regained to his feet before you and held out a hand for you to help you stand up. As you oriented to your surroundings, you could feel your blood go cold. The sky was dark, vastly different from the midday sky that you were previously in. Even though it was night, stars didn’t light up the night sky, instead smog filled the skylines. Buildings stood tall, reaching for the sky but always too short. The streets were quiet, like a the silence of a forest when a predator is near. The rain dripping onto your head was the final confirmation.

You were in Gotham.

You were back in the city you grew up in. The city that raised you to be the person you are now. The city you had so many conflicting emotions about. You were not ready for this confrontation. In fact, you might never be.

So, like the coward you were, you quickly pulled your mask back to cover your face and turned to Miguel. He quickly takes the hint and puts his on as well.

“We have to get home. We can’t stay here.” You fiddle with your gizmo, attempting to open a portal back up to the HQ, but nothing. Miguel looked at your struggle and tried to get his own to work as well but it was a futile attempt. Nothing seemed wrong with the gizmos, except for the fact the no portal was opening up. You hoped that everything else was working fine.

Miguel had no knowledge of this strange world. All he knew was that you didn’t want either of you to stay here, and who was he to doubt your words? The situation was alright at first. Yes, it was suspicious that you two were dropped off here by some unknown entity, but there seemed to be no immediate danger and you two could easily open a portal back to the HQ.

At least he thought so.

But when both of your gizmos failed, he could feel worry start seeping in. No, this is fine, he could fix the gizmo. He didn’t have any tools though. What was even wrong with it? It had been working perfectly fine before you were dropped into this foreign universe.

He could see you pacing back and forth on the rooftop you two were on. Although he couldn’t see your face, he knew there was a frown etched onto our face.

“Mi corazón.” He called for you, but you were still in your trance. “Corazón.” He called out a little louder, and still nothing. He quickly gave up on words and walked over to you, softly grabbing your hand to pull you out.

“What?” You snap at him before regretting it almost instantly. You take a big breath and try to calm yourself down. “I’m sorry, I’m just stressed.”

“It’s alright mi vida. Can you tell me what’s got you so worried and where we are?” He spoke to you softly. You take another breath, mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you were about to have.

“We’re in my home universe.”

“Ah.” That was all he needed to know. He had heard enough of your ramblings about your old life to know why you were reacting this way.

“Why isn’t the gizmo working?” You ask, point-blank.

“I’m not sure. Maybe there’s something about this universe that’s stopping us from being able to communicate with the others. I attempted to get in contact with other spidermen but no response.” The Spider HQ must be a mess right now, with the sudden disappearance of their leader. He hoped you two could quickly make it back home or else you two would be coming back to chaos.

You opened your mouth to say something but were interrupted when you felt your spider senses tingling. You could see Miguel’s signature scowl form on his face, it seemed he could hear the danger you were sensing.

You both take a look around at your surroundings, and not too far off into the distance you see a Doc Ock terrorising the poor citizens of Gotham.

No, that wasn’t right. Your universe shouldn’t have a Doc Ock, hell you didn’t have any of the standard spidey villains. There was only one reason for this

An anomaly was in your universe.

Farther into the distance, you could see the bat sign light up the night sky. Shit. You needed to hurry before your family could get to this. You and Miguel looked at each other and nodded. A silent agreement to continue the conversation later and also take this anomaly down as soon as possible.

Taglist

@kik1010 @cxcilla @00hellohello00 @bluepanda08 @frankie-moon3 @guyfuitty @lumi320 @type-ink @kye-chen-r @sugasweettea @sillyheartmoonnyx @definitely-not-sammie @birbtweettweet @itsberrydreemurstuff @bellethesleepypotato

Another chapter done, yippee! I'm sorry this is focusing more on Reader and Miguel, but I needed to introduce some plot points and it ended up being too long for the batfam to make an appearance

As said in a previous post, I don't speak Spanish, so if those nicknames are cringe or something then please do tell me how to improve it and I will gladly change it

Anyways this has been another busy week. I finished my prepL, took my license photo, started watching the bayverse transformers movies and prepared for the start of the school year on Tues

Speaking of school, I have no idea if that will affect my upload schedule but it most likely won't until a few weeks in.

As per usual, you are free to point out any mistakes. I don't edit my work cuz my ADHD won't allow me to and I don't have a beta reader so I am bound to have some mistakes here and there

Fun fact, my titles (except for the story title) come from songs. The Prologue came from Never Love An Anchor by The Crane Wives and this chapter's came from Abandon Ship by Fin. I recommend you listen to them, they're so good!

Have a great day everyone <3

[simmerandwrite]

electric touch (part 2)

Pairing: Bucky x medical team! reader

Summary: Getting a spot on the field medical team was your dream. And your closest work friend Bucky Barnes finally asking you out? That was the cherry on top of your good news. Now all you had to do was pass your training week. Seems easy enough until you’re faced with someone who doesn’t want to see you win.

Warnings: abuse of power, verbal abuse, physical assault, some PTSD (but none of these are because of Bucky!!!!)

Wordcount: 8.5k

Part 1

Notes: WELP, sorry for the delay on this one. I've never rewritten so many scenes before (I have about 2k worth of trash from this part). thank you so much for your patience and for reading and reblogging part 1. hope you enjoy!!! <3

--

You didn’t anticipate the first-time seeing Bucky’s apartment would be like this: after two hours spent at a private clinic in Midtown, getting an x-ray then a consultation with a Dr. Alvarez, followed by the application of a cast. Then there was a visit from Tony Stark himself, alongside Pepper Potts, who carried a great amount of apologies and offered support for whatever the next steps ended up being.

Not once did you think you would be sneaking into the Tower through a back elevator, arm resting in a sling, shuffling your feet quietly beside Bucky as you ventured to his apartment, and feeling somehow both on edge and utterly exhausted throughout the whole process. And Bucky checked in with you every step of the way – sometimes with just a cursory glance. He managed to say so much without saying anything at all, and you really appreciated that.

God, he was so careful with you. Gentle, even. Gentle wasn’t the first word you would use to describe Bucky. Not that he was rough or reckless or brutish or whatever the opposite of gentle was. When it came to you, he was always kind and quiet and attentive.

But the way he spoke to you, how he had apologized after every bump and pothole as the ground shook his car, how he held his hand at your back as he guided you to his door - it was unexpected and gentle and exactly what kept you from spiraling. 

Despite all that, you wanted to visit his apartment for the first time excited, with butterflies in your stomach. Why did it have to be like this?

When you got to his door, there was a Stark Industries bag hanging off the handle. Bucky paused, then nodded with a hum before scanning his access card to open the door. 

The living spaces at the Tower were pretty basic, and you knew Bucky wasn’t intending on staying there forever, but he somehow managed to make it feel like his home nonetheless. 

A basic kitchen was immediately on your left as you walked in, open directly into the living room - which had a big, comfortable couch covered in a few pillows and blankets. You carefully fell into it, eyes closed. The impact made you wince but you decided it was worth it, given how you sank into the cushions.

“So, what do you want to eat?” Bucky had stopped in the kitchen area, grabbing what looked like a stack of menus from the top of the fridge.

You just shrugged, glancing over at him briefly before closing your eyes. “I’m not really hungry.”

Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could sense the frown on his face.

He sighed out your name. “Didn’t we just learn a lesson about taking those intense pain meds on an empty stomach?” He paused. “Actually, you think about it, I’m going to change...”

You squeezed your eyes even harder, trying to scrub away that recent memory. 

The doctor had been fitting the temporary cast on your hand and wrist just as whatever remaining particles of pain medication seemed to disappear from your bloodstream. That had been enough to make you feel nauseated but then when a nurse came to share some stronger meds with you, Bucky was quick to grab the nearest trash can when they immediately made you throw up. 

Most of it made it into the can, at least.

Now he was probably going to change out of his shirt that had been hit with the rest.

In the few moments of quiet while Bucky was in his bedroom, everything about the last few days hit you all at once. 

Boone. The gym. Your face on the mat. The way he yelled, screamed. Why hadn’t you left? 

Your couch. The growing pain. The purple and yellow and blue bruises. Why didn’t you just walk away?

Bucky.

Bucky at your door, with soup. Bucky with his tender touch. Your hand.

Pepper Potts, her kindness. 

The doctor.

The doctor said something about surgery after seeing your x-ray. Metacarpal break in your hand, down from the ring finger, and a hairline fracture down your wrist.

Pepper had been so kind but what was it she said about a police report? About filing a report with HR? What had she said about taking a break from work?

Bucky, Bucky had been so patient. He hadn’t left your side. But–

How would you ever write again? Could you hold a pen? Would you be able to do your job? Now you wouldn’t have your new role and you’d be shit at your current job, too. How could a nurse function without typing notes or holding a stethoscope or –

Boone. The gym. Your face on the mat. Bucky. Boone. Bucky. Your hand and this cast and this goddamn sling.

In your slurry of thoughts, you hadn’t even realized the tight feeling growing in your chest. Instinctually, you tried to place a hand over your heart and – pain, your wrist. Heaving in deep breaths, it felt as if your lungs couldn’t handle functioning properly.

And your skin - everything felt too hot. You shuffled forward on the couch until you were closer to the floor, dropping to your knees as you tore at your sweatshirt with one hand. It was only halfway zipped up, barely draped over your shoulders, and just so so so hot - were you dripping with sweat?

Could Bucky hear as you called out for him? God, what if he just changed his mind - you were a mess, this wasn’t the person he knew and definitely wasn’t the person he asked out.

How could he be proud of you now?

You tore off your glasses as tears started to fall.

Your name, someone was saying your name. 

Were you under water? It felt like you were under water. Your skin - hot. Your hand, your wrist – pain. 

Boone. 

You collapsed further, bracing yourself on the rug with your free hand. It was strangely soft under your palm. Bucky’s apartment had a soft rug.

Bucky. Bucky was saying your name. 

“Hey, hey. You’re okay.” 

He sounded close, so close. You blinked through your tears and saw he had dropped down beside you on the floor. 

“Sweetheart, can I - can I touch you? Is that okay?”

You nodded, peeking your head up to look at him. Everything was blurry. 

Slowly, he reached out and pressed one hand against your chest, firm. The other was running up and down your back. You listened to him carefully as he talked you through whatever this episode was, breathing in tandem as he applied just enough pressure to your chest and shoulders to really ground you beside him. 

He spoke your name, trying to keep your attention. “Talk to me, please.”

“Bucky - I..” You closed your eyes, sparing a moment to breathe at his pace. His hand pressed against your chest didn’t let up but he helped you lean back against the couch. “I’m scared.. Boone, he.. What if.. My hand..”

“I promise you’re never going to see him again.”

“No, no. I’m not..” Another deep breath. Your heart rate seemed to steady. “I’m not scared of seeing him. I want to.. I want to break his jaw or.. I wasn’t strong enough to even try..” You lifted your arm, tight in the cast and sling. “I won’t even be able to do that. He – I fucked up my hand and I - how can I even do my job or write anything or hold anything or even text? And I - I’ve never had surgery before and I’m - I’m scared something will go wrong and I won’t get to join the med team and I - How can I..” You could feel yourself starting to hyperventilate. “He kept yelling at me to fight back.. Fight back and-and prove myself! I should have – I should have just walked away, I should have–”

You couldn’t quite remember how the shift happened - but you were soon back on the couch, gently turned towards Bucky as he wrapped his arm around you. Time seemed to disappear as you cried into the crook of his shoulder. 

Maybe it wasn’t the most comfortable position as your hand pulsed in pain, but the close feeling, the touch of Bucky, the heat radiating from him - the combination soothed you. 

Bucky seemed to sense the exact moment your heart rate returned back to normal, as he very gently nudged you away just enough to peer down at you. He reached for your glasses and secured them back to where they belonged then offered you a soft smile.

“I don’t want to, uh, invalidate your feelings,” Bucky started then quickly paused. “Christ, I sound like Steve.”

That made you laugh.

“But you’ve gotta know that the doctor who's going to fix your hand will do a damn good job and while maybe you’ll have to take some time off work, you’ll be able to adapt until you fully heal. I promise.” He shifted and grabbed your available hand. “And surgery can be scary but I’ll be there the whole time and wait for you after, okay?”

“You’ll do that?”

Bucky seemed to falter after another moment. “Only if you want me, I don’t want to assume–”

“No, no. I do. I just..” You let out a slow breath. “I.. I’m really grateful to be right here, with you. I’m glad you didn’t leave my apartment earlier, even when I was pushing you out.”

Now he had a chance to laugh. “Yeah, I think we both know I wasn’t going anywhere, sweetheart. Now, you need to eat something. Any requests?”

Half an hour later Bucky was unpacking a delivery bag and handing you a meal and a dose of medication that you had brought home from the clinic. Admittedly, the warm food helped settle you even more and you had a feeling that you’d fall asleep quickly.

The bag hanging from Bucky’s door was full of overnight essentials, including a Stark Industries branded t-shirt and matching sweatpants. You managed to change and brush your teeth with only one hand, then found Bucky waiting for you in the hallway.

“I got my bed set up with extra pillows for you.”

You glanced into his room, then craned your neck to look back towards the living room. A lone pillow and blanket created a makeshift bed on the couch cushions.

Bucky answered the question on your mind: “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

You scrunched your face up. “No.”

“No?” Bucky repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Even with extra pillows, I think there is definitely room for us both.” You stepped into his room and surveyed the space. Again, although a bit basic and free from any excess, it felt like Bucky lived there. A framed picture of him and Steve lived on his dresser. A basket of unfolded laundry sat outside his closet door. An extra pair of boots leaned up against his bedside table. 

Bucky let out a long breath, saying your name quietly. He shook his head then motioned towards the bed. “Okay.”

It took a few moments to adjust into a position that felt comfortable enough for you. Bucky helped you rearrange some of the pillows before he very cautiously joined you in the bed, doing his best to not create any extra movement to jostle you. 

Silence took over a few moments later, when he reached down and grabbed your left hand. 

You squeezed his palm, speaking through a yawn. “This isn’t how I pictured us sharing a bed for the first time.”

He laughed in return, shifting against his pillow. “Me neither, doll.” 

Then, you heard Bucky move again. And after a sweet mumbling of goodnight, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

--

To say Bucky was reluctant to leave you alone was an understatement. But once you settled into his bed, the pain medication seemed to finally kick in and you were out like a light. He left a small note on the bedside table, near your phone, to let you know he’d be back quickly and to call for FRIDAY if you needed anything. As he slipped into the hallway, secured in a black hoodie, he glanced towards his phone.

Tony’s message had been nondescript, but Bucky understood enough he had information about Boone. Tony insinuated earlier he was already digging into the video footage and how to proceed, but knew Bucky would want to be informed every step of the way.

Not that it mattered - Bucky already had a plan: find Boone then kill him.

Okay, no, no. Bucky couldn’t kill him. He’d never take a life like that again but… well, he had already considered a thousand different scenarios that left Boone to deal with the consequences of his actions. 

Bucky cracked his neck as he got into the elevator, shooting up to Tony’s lab. He stepped out directly into the space, following the echo of Tony’s voice somewhere inside. Bucky found him standing behind one of his workstations, hands flying around as he swiped at the screens illuminated ahead.

Tony paused, pivoting slightly as he shuffled a few things around on his desk. He leaned towards the end of his workspace, hooked his foot on the bottom of a wheeled chair and slid it in Bucky’s direction.

“How is she?” Tony asked, perching on the side of his workstation as Bucky sat.

Bucky shook his head. How could he even answer that? “Finally sleeping.”

“I hope they gave her the good stuff.” Tony’s fingers tapped against the side of the desk. “You know, Dr. Alvarez told me your girl must have a high pain tolerance given the severity of that break.” Before Bucky even had a chance to defend your non-relationship status, Tony carried on. “But Barnes - she’s tough, really tough. Look.”

Bucky turned his head to the screens, as a series of video captures started playing on the screen. It was footage of you - from the training gym, during all your sessions the week prior. 

Tough didn’t seem like enough. You were strategic and resilient and smart. Sure, maybe you needed to work on your pace and Bucky could certainly give you some pointers when it came to aim, he was still impressed.

“Here’s the thing.” Tony paused the footage. “When this incident happened– listen, I know incident isn’t the right word here. But when it happened, someone retroactively cut out some security footage.” He shifted his hand and tapped the screen again. “I just recovered it. And I am looking into how that imbecile managed to bypass the admin code for the security logs.”

“Did you watch it?” Bucky held his breath, tearing his eyes from the screen back towards Tony who shook his head. 

“Not yet.”

Bucky flicked his hand to the screen, to signal for Tony to show him. Bucky stood from his chair and crossed his arms once the video started.

As he watched, the anger flared up in Bucky almost instantly. Just seeing you alone with Boone in the gym made his stomach drop but when Boone shoved you down, Bucky growled.

The footage didn’t have any audio, though Bucky had a feeling that if he could also hear whatever Boone had been shouting at you, he’d be trashing Tony’s lab just to deal with his frustration. 

At first, everything seemed normal enough. Bucky sucked in a breath when Boone pulled off your glasses. His fist clenched tightly when Boone pushed you down to your knees. When Boone’s hand touched your head…

“Good for her,” Tony muttered out when you quickly started to fight back. 

When Boone escalated things though - as your face dragged against the mat, as he pulled at your arms, how he followed up as you tried to crawl away, as he clearly shouted and stomped his feet down on your hand, Bucky couldn’t help but boil over. He let out another growl and grabbed a nearby stool, snapping it over his knee.

He dropped the wooden shards to the ground, apologizing to Tony before requesting he turn off the video.

“Listen,” Tony raised his hands, as if to forgive Bucky for the outburst. “I can’t put Pepper through the PR nightmare if you kill this guy.”

“I’m not going to..” Bucky sucked in a breath. Well, he wasn’t going to speak in absolutes or promises. He could barely see past the red in his eyes, there was no point in lying.

Tony let out a small yelp. “Oh, hold on. Let’s..” He dropped back down onto a rolling chair and moved towards one of his computer screens. “FRIDAY, let’s pull up the last 6th months of data for Agent Nathan Boone. Every swipe in, hour worked, blah blah blah. You know the drill.”

Bucky tried to follow Tony’s thought process, crossing his arms as he watched the screens compile different information.

“When does he usually go to the gym?” Tony asked, swiping ahead of him as he scanned over the data.

FRIDAY’s lilt echoed above them. “Agent Boone, on average, visits the gym every day he is on schedule. He first enters usually between 6 and 6:07AM.”

Tony nodded. “Okay, and when was the last time we did diagnostics on the gym security system?”

“Well, boss, this system doesn’t require regular diagnostics due to the software protection.”

“Right. Then it sounds like we’re due.” Tony shot a glance over his shoulder to meet Bucky’s gaze. “Let’s run it in the morning, around 6AM. Full system shut down - including cameras - for half an hour?”

Bucky grunted. “Make it an hour.”

--

 Following his visit to Tony’s lab, which actually concluded with sharing a glass of whiskey, Bucky made a plan. 

He returned to his apartment and bed, where he luckily found you still sleeping soundly. When you both stirred awake a few hours later, just shy of sunrise, Bucky encouraged you to stay in bed while he hit the gym.

You barely argued as your eyes fluttered shut again, wincing only slightly as you adjusted on the bed. Bucky promised to return with breakfast when he was done.

Then, he headed to the gym. He discovered easily how effective a piece of paper could be at deterring people from entering. One well placed ‘Closed for cleaning’ sign and a locked door kept anyone else from accessing the space after Bucky watched Boone enter.

A thousand scenarios flashed through Bucky’s mind when he saw Boone. On top of the flood of thoughts he wrestled with all night long, Bucky was simply itching to rearrange Boone’s entire dumb fucking face.

But, no. No. He had a plan.

Bucky rolled his head slightly, cracked his knuckles, then headed towards the weight area. It wasn’t hard to find Boone, given he was the only other person in the space. That and he was already proving himself obnoxious - blasting music from his phone instead of using headphones.

“Boone.” Bucky approached slowly. Boone looked up as he did, shifting slightly as he sat on the bench and giving Bucky a small nod.

“What’s up, Sarge?” Boone replied. “I guess you and I are the only early birds today. Usually a few more in here. Though with some of these new recruits, I guess I’m not surprised they don’t give a shit about training.

Bucky sucked in a breath before motioning to the weight rack behind Boone as he set up a bench press. “You need a spot?”

Boone shrugged. “Sure.”

“This your warm up?” Bucky smirked, tapping against the plates resting on the bar. “You’ve gotta be doing more than that these days. Cap told me he’s been impressed by your bulking.”

Boone let out a stiff laugh. “I hit a new max rep last week, actually. I realize that’s nothing compared to you and Cap .”

“C’mon then.” Bucky leaned forward and slapped Boone’s shoulder. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Boone stood up on impact, skepticism evident on his face before he sat again. But, he didn’t falter. “Sure.”

Bucky walked over to the weight rack and grabbed two additional heavy plates, sliding them on as Boone laid down and got into position. 

“Speaking of new recruits.” Bucky bristled as he tried to make convincing small talk with Boone and his dumb fucking face. If Boone thought it was out of character, he didn’t mention it. “How’d training go last week?”

Boone laughed, stretching his arms up to brace the bar. “Yeah, it went fine. Most of them passed. That’s on par with the recent cohorts. Usually one or two bail out.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky crossed his arms, doing everything in his power to reign himself in. 

“Makes sense. Most people aren’t ready - some will never be–” Boone pressed upwards, inhaling a sharp breath as he lifted the bar.

“Too much?” Bucky took half a step backwards.

“No, no.” Boone carried on, barely moving the bar up off the rack. “I’ve got it.” His arms fully extended, as the weight bar swayed slightly between his arms before he positioned it back in place.

Bucky returned to the weight rack and grabbed two more plates. “Nice. You got more in you?”

Boone hesitated, looking backwards to meet Bucky’s gaze. He nodded. “Absolutely.”

Once the new weights were settled, Bucky stood above him again. 

“Hey.” Bucky closed his eyes, moving to the side of the bench to peer down at Boone. Bucky said your name. “She was training with you last week, right?”

Boone froze momentarily then blinked. “Uh, yeah. I remember her.”

“Between you and me - how’d she do?” Bucky rested his hands underneath the bar, temporarily alleviating some of the weight as Boone pressed upwards again. “Do you think she was ready?”

Boone closed his eyes to focus on his lift. “Between you and me,” he echoed to Bucky. “That dumb broad will never be ready.”

A searing heat coursed through Bucky as he released his hands, stepping back as the overweight bar slammed down on Boone’s chest. Boone roared out in pain, whimpering as the entire barbell rolled down onto his throat. As his arms flailed at his side, trying and failing to push it away, Boone tried to call out for Bucky’s help.

Though his anger remained, watching Boone struggle was still enjoyable. And although Bucky would have been happy to see the barbell crush Boone’s windpipe, he eventually did step forward and reach for the weights.

With his left arm, Bucky removed the bar and threw the entire thing to the side. With his right hand, he yanked Boone up off the bench onto his feet.

“Did you forget how to spot me? The fuck?” Boone shouted, eyes widening as he rubbed at his throat. He swung his arm forward and pushed against Bucky’s chest.  “I could have fucking–”

Bucky snarled, shoving Boone back the same way - sending him into the rack holding the weights. Boone bounced off the structure and tumbled to the side, wincing in pain as Bucky stalked after him. “Why don’t you fight back?”

“Barnes, you’re out of your mind. What the fuck–”

“Fight back.” Bucky advanced closer, looming over Boone as he scuttled backwards on the floor.  “Prove yourself.” It was clear to Bucky that reference hit Boone directly. Although he couldn’t bring himself to snap back, Boone’s face grew red. An extra bead of sweat dripped down from his forehead, as he pressed against the wall.

Bucky crouched down, grabbing Boone’s jaw between his metal fingers. “What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?” Bucky said your name slowly. Boone’s eyes briefly widened. “What do you get out of beating up an agent?” 

“I didn’t–” Boone tried to shake his head. “Is she your little girlfriend or something? Listen, I wouldn’t have – I didn’t know she – What did she say–”

“It doesn’t fucking matter if she’s anyone girlfriend, you piece of shit.” Bucky grabbed him by the throat and pulled him back up to his feet, sparing a moment to spit in Boone’s face before he made his next move. Bucky dropped his hand and took one step back, stretching his arms ahead of himself before letting out a growl. “Fight back, Agent Boone. Prove. Yourself.”

--

Despite your nicely medicated sleep in Bucky’s bed, you were tired. And talking to a lawyer and Pepper and HR and a member of the NYPD police, Officer Reyes, about the entire situation again definitely contributed to your exhaustion. 

You were even on your second coffee but it didn’t seem to be helping. Bucky was practically holding you up as he sat at your side. You were in the medical wing at the tower, going through everything you needed before surgery. It had been scheduled quickly - probably at Tony’s request, given his relationship with Dr. Alvarez. And although you didn’t really want to think about the gravity of having surgery, you couldn’t help but look forward to the healing process. You wanted this all to be over already.

“That’s everything we need. You’re prepared for tomorrow. Start fasting at midnight!” 

You thanked your coworker, Jillian, for being a wonderful nurse and securing you back into your sling. Bucky helped you to stand, giving you a once over to make sure you were okay. 

Bucky had been quiet all morning. That wasn’t particularly out of character, but he seemed tense. You didn’t always see every side of him as friends and now with all this - things were shifting. You didn’t mind it, though. You welcomed it, especially after waking up in his bed and relishing in the sense of security that he was at your side.

“Hey Bucky?” You stopped him once you were outside the doors, heading in the direction of the elevators. 

He immediately frowned, searching your face as he turned to face you. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” You offered him a reassuring smile. “But are you?”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, extending your good hand to grab his. “If you can worry about me, you must know I worry about you too. Can’t help it.”

Bucky cracked a reluctant smile. “Okay. Well, try not to worry about me right now then, okay? You’ve got enough on your plate.”

Before you could hit him back with another defensive rebuttal, you were interrupted by your name being called down the hallway. It was Pepper and Officer Reyes, again.

You drew in a hard breath, relaxing a tiny bit when you felt Bucky squeeze your hand. He hadn’t let go, and it seemed he didn’t plan to. When the officer asked to speak with you, Bucky took the lead and guided you into the nearest consultation room to have the conversation privately.

Pepper opted to wait outside but Bucky joined you, arms crossed in front of the door while you sat opposite the officer.

You really liked Officer Reyes. She was patient, direct, and took her job very seriously. And right now, that meant dealing with Boone.

“Just to give you a fair update,” she started, folding her hands together on top of the table. “We had the arrest warrant prepared and although he swiped in for work and into the gym this morning, we actually found Nathan Boone at his apartment downtown. He came willingly. In fact, it seemed he was waiting for us. He’s been charged with assault in the third degree and you’ll be happy to know he pled guilty.” 

You sat back in your chair, a sense of relief flooding through you. Although you knew there was video footage and physical proof of Boone’s attack, you still had doubts the judicial system would work in your favour. 

“So, is that it?” You asked cautiously. 

Reyes nodded. “From you? Pretty much.” She tipped her head sideways briefly, considering. “I shouldn’t mention this, but given the circumstances, it must be some sort of karmic payback. Nathan Boone was in bad shape when we found him - the guy will probably need some medical attention himself. We asked him about his injuries but he had nothing to say. Fell down the stairs, so he says.”

“Bad shape?” You couldn’t help but ask. You didn’t have any sympathy for Boone but the curiosity surfaced. 

“I have a feeling he’ll have to squeeze in some x-rays and a visit to a dental surgeon in between his court dates.” Reyes stood and offered her hand, giving you a small smile. “I’ll be in touch if we have any loose ends.”

After she left, you remained in your chair, quiet for a moment before you motioned for Bucky to sit. He was sitting after one swift stride, locking eyes with you.

You started slowly. “I meant to ask. How was your workout this morning?”

Bucky was straight faced, matching your pose across the table. “Good.” 

“Nothing else to share?” You pressed, raising an eyebrow. 

“I always like to have a plan when I go to the gym and this morning, I did exactly what I planned on doing.”

You nodded then leaned back in your chair. You knew you could ask exactly what you wanted and he'd tell you the truth. But maybe it was better left unsaid. If you didn’t ask, he didn’t have to explain himself either. But, that didn’t make the entire thing any less of an internal debate.

Why did you care even a little tiny bit about Boone being injured? 

It wasn’t even about Boone. 

It was about someone inflicting pain on your behalf. But, wait. Then again – was there any chance Boone was feeling guilty for his actions? Fueled by his fucked up testosterone levels and short fuse? Why did you have to wrestle with your conscience when he didn’t show even an ounce of remorse for what he did? 

If Bucky had chosen to defend you, to wrestle with Boone instead… Well, maybe that was what needed to happen. 

You remained in a staring contest with Bucky, searching his face for anything. You could see something just behind his lips, a desire to say something else. Maybe he was worried he would upset you with the whole truth about what happened at the gym. If that was the case, you also knew Bucky wouldn’t apologize for what he might have done to Boone.

Bucky was strong willed. He stood up for what he believed in. He’d never want to see injustice or unfair behaviour being excused. 

You sighed then nodded again. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Bucky repeated slowly, tilting his head. “Sweetheart, I—”

“No. It’s okay.” You cracked a small smile. “Bucky, I—thank you. For last night and for not leaving my side and taking care of me, protecting me.. for everything.”

He said your name quietly, reaching across the table for your free hand. “It’s an honour.”

You sucked in a breath, blinking away the feeling of crying again.  “Don’t do that – don’t be cheesy. I won’t survive.”

Bucky just smiled.

--

Somehow an hour long surgery seemed like a lifetime to Bucky. He glanced at his phone to check the time again and let out a long breath, slumping down just a bit further in his chair. Despite your exhaustion, you had barely slept the night before and Bucky felt helpless, even with all his efforts to calm your nerves.

“I’m a nurse, Bucky. I’ve helped so many patients before and after surgeries and I’m still just – I want this to be over.”

Bucky knew you were okay, in the best hands Tony could pay for, but he was still desperate to see you roll back down the hallway, safe and sound.

After another chance to take some breaths and repeat a few of his safe mantras, Bucky looked at his phone. Instead of seeing the time, he saw ‘Sam Wilson’ popping up on his phone.

It had been a very easy task for Bucky - ignoring Sam for the past 48 hours. It was petty, childish even, but he still didn’t want to talk to Sam. Bucky was still sitting in an uncomfortable swell of anger over the whole situation. A situation that could be traced right back to Sam, in a way.

Bucky closed his eyes and finally brought the phone up to his ear when Sam called back again. He stood from his chair and started down the empty hallway.

“This is Sergeant Barnes.”

Sam immediately scoffed on the other end of the line. “Thanks for finally picking up.”

Bucky just grunted. “What do you want?”

“I want you to say out loud what’s bothering you so we can move past this.” 

Silence fell between them before Bucky finally replied again. “You put him in charge, Sam.”

“I have a lot of fucking regrets about that, Bucky.”

Bucky couldn’t help but wince when he heard Sam swear. In the field, Sam certainly had a mouth at times. But during the day to day operations of the job, back in the office, he was usually well restrained. Clearly, he was out of sorts, too.

“And I heard someone already went and put Boone in his place. There is only so much I can apologize for when that jackass cheated the system and misled me. Boone broke my trust and I can get over that. But I am fucking gutted I broke her trust. This never should have happened. I know that.”

“I know you know. I..” Bucky closed his eyes, pausing to rest against the nearest wall. Eventually, he left out a quiet laugh. “I don’t know what to do with my leftover anger, Sam.”

“You and me both, man. At least you got to crack him in the jaw a few times. Wish I could have been there.”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll tell you all about it in great detail. I owe you a beer, alright?”

“Whenever you’re ready to leave your girl's side, pencil me in.”

After he hung up with Sam, then exchanged a few messages with Steve, Bucky resumed his position of waiting for you outside the entrance to the surgical suites. He tried distracting himself with a few reports he had to go over and listened to a few tracks on a new playlist from Natasha. Eventually though, all he could do was stare at the door and be patient.

Soon enough, a nurse appeared at the door and signaled to Bucky he could come through. He was directed to a recovery area and finally, he could feel his shoulders relax. There you were - safe and sound. 

Bucky pulled up a chair beside your hospital bed, greeting you with a smile as you looked towards him. 

“Bucky!”

“Hey doll.” 

“She’s still coming back from the general anesthesia. She might be a bit out of sorts still,” the nurse confirmed, giving you another once over. “The doctor said everything went well and the office will be in touch about follow up appointments.” The nurse paused, giving Bucky a coy smile as she walked away. “She immediately asked for you when she started coming to - Sergeant Handsome.”

“I said that was a private nickname,” you whined, closing your eyes tightly. You tried to push yourself up slightly to sit, but were quickly stopped by your immobilized arm. “Ow.”

“Let me help,” Bucky stood up and adjusted the bed so you could sit up more. 

You turned to look towards him. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Bucky scooted his chair closer and sat again. “You feelin’ okay?”

You nodded. “Just a lil’froggy.. Foggy..”

“So, Sergeant Handsome? Were you talkin’ about me?” Bucky couldn’t help the smile on his face as you closed your eyes. Though it fell just as quickly when you frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I - can I tell you a secret?” You kept your eyes closed, letting out a slow exhale as you settled against the pillows propping you up. 

“Sure, doll.”

“Actually, no, no.” Your eyes shot open, narrowing again as you locked eyes with Bucky. “This hasta be a secret exchange.”

“A secret exchange?”

You licked your lips then used your good hand to point at him. “You tell me one first, then I tell you one. It’s fair.”

“I mean, you started this whole thing,” he laughed, then decided it was probably best to play along. The medication was clearly still making you a bit loopy and the last thing Bucky wanted to do was upset you any further in this state. “Okay. Let’s see.” He paused again then shrugged. “I met my nephew a few weeks ago.”

“Bucky! Oh, oh wow. That’s..” You reached for his closest hand and he met you in the middle. You squeezed his fingers but didn’t let go after. “I’m gonna cry - I’m so happy for you. When I.. I’m back to normal, I wanna hear all about it. Okay?”

“I can’t wait to tell you, sweetheart.” Bucky cradled your hand in his, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “Now, it’s your turn.”

You sucked in a breath and closed your eyes once more. “I’m.. I’m really sad we aren’t gonna have our date.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Who said we aren’t having our date?”

“We’re suppos’ta celebrate my new position and..” You shook your head. “Look’at me now.. No new job and-and a broken whatever–” You tried to move your casted arm and just winced, which quickly transformed into a yawn. “Who wants to date this..”

Bucky released your hand from his and leaned forward, bringing his palm up to cup your cheek. Exhaustion seemed to catch up with you as you fell back asleep.  “I promise we’re going on that date.” 

--

The first few days following your surgery were painful, as you probably should have anticipated. You insisted Bucky didn’t need to stay at your side the whole time - in fact, you knew he had work to do and an upcoming mission to plan for. Thankfully you had a few close friends in rotation who kept you company throughout your days and somehow an endless supply of credit with your favourite food delivery app, making your life a lot easier. (You assumed you had Tony to thank for that.)

You and Bucky still talked all day long. That made dealing with the pain a lot easier, too.

You: are you doing anything after work? You: if you’re free You: you could come over? Bucky: be there by 7 :)

“It’s going to leave quite the scar, unfortunately.” Your check up with Dr. Alvarez had downgraded you to a removable splint, which you were really relieved about. You were perfectly capable of handling the care yourself and it was nice to release the pressure on your hand.

You had taken the splint off to show Bucky when he showed up. You were sitting beside him on your small loveseat, catching up about your last few days. He was holding your hand gently in his own, tracing his finger lightly over your skin. 

Somehow, by some weird trick of your mind, it seemed like the pain had already become easier to tolerate. Like Bucky’s touch was helping settle your nerves and discomfort.

“Tony has this thing… it could help with that,” Bucky finally responded, his voice barely audible. “The scarring. I don’t know how it works but it can build synthetic tissue and..”

You smiled when Bucky looked back up at you. “Yeah, maybe.” It was clear Bucky was holding something back but you didn’t want to press. “Okay, I have a confession. I invited you here because I need help with something.”

He nodded. “Sure. Whatever you need. What is it?”

It was another unconventional first for you and Bucky and your new whatever relationship status. You had visions of a sexy steamed bathroom, shared laughter and maybe slippery hands and low moans and… This wasn’t how your first shower together was supposed to go.

You chewed on your lip as you tried to figure out the logistics. You had a semi-normal shower the other day, but it had been incredibly difficult if not impossible to get any soap or shampoo where it needed to go with an immobilized arm. Even now, without the splint, you barely had any range of motion in your hand. Plus you were supposed to be taking it easy.

“Okay, so. Let’s…” You turned towards the shower then back towards Bucky, who was standing only a few inches from you - thanks to your tiny New York City apartment bathroom. “I’ll be in the shower. Uhm, naked. Then when I need soap or shampoo or… whatever, I’ll stick my good hand out and you can give it to me.”

Bucky stifled his laughter. “Sure. I can… give you whatever you need, doll.”

“Bucky,” you whined, doing your best not to laugh along with him. “Don’t, please. I know this is weird.”

“I’m sorry,” he immediately sobered up. “I’ll, just..” He turned to face the door, away from you, as you stripped down and got into the shower. “Tell me when I should turn around?”

It wasn’t a very graceful process but it worked. Bucky was very polite and helpful with everything you needed. Truthfully, it would have been better to have him in the shower with you but you just weren’t there yet. Beyond sleeping side by side and cuddling on the couch, nothing further had happened between you. And well, that was expected - given everything. But your stupid injury really was getting in the way.

“Okay, just, uhm - my towel?” You turned off the water and reached out, feeling the fluffy fabric right away. You did your best to wrap it around your body then drew the curtain open again. Bucky was waiting for you, eyes closed tightly but with an extended hand to help you step carefully over the tub. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “You can open your eyes - I’m covered.”

“Feel better?” He asked as he opened his eyes, offering you one of those soft, sweet Bucky looks you were coming to really appreciate and love. 

God, you didn’t want to fuck this up. 

“Here, let me..” Bucky took your injured hand and carefully fixed your splint back into place. Then, well, he filled in the small space between you both. 

You sucked in a breath as he positioned his forehead against yours, beads of water and condensation sticking to his skin. “Thank you,” you repeated, though you wondered if it was even audible.

He kept one hand safely holding your injured wrist while his other found a spot on your hip. He whispered your name with just enough inflexion for you to understand his unspoken question. As soon as you tipped your head into a nod, his hand left your hip and was encompassing the side of your neck, thumb running against your jawline.

Your tongue swept across your lips. “ Yes.”

Bucky’s lips met yours, gentle and rough and exactly what you imagined kissing Bucky might be like. A bolt of electricity surged through you, across every nerve. It was the perfect balm to forget about your wrist, about uncertainty, about anything but Bucky.

--

Although you knew you were returning to work on a modified schedule and task list, you had still been nervous about it. Especially because you didn’t know what everyone else knew about Boone and you and what had happened. But luckily you were welcomed back to cheerful coworkers and a very light workload.

And no one mentioned Boone or your injury. You did have to catch on newly updated mandatory company wide training though, directly related to substance abuse and security protocols. 

You got used to working with only one hand, which would still be the case for a few more weeks. But otherwise, things felt okay. And by the time your meal break rolled around, you couldn’t help but feel giddy about being back at the tower. Because you had a lunch date with your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend Bucky Barnes. 

Not that having lunch with Bucky was new, but now it felt like so much more. Every single milestone in your relationship so far had been abnormal but this - this was perfectly ordinary. Although calling him your boyfriend still felt a little foreign on your tongue, you didn’t mind that change. 

When you spotted Bucky in the cafeteria, your knees nearly gave out altogether. You couldn’t help but grin when he stood to greet you, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand. With the other he pulled you in for a hug, followed by a kiss on the forehead.

“Hi,” you said, using your freehand to brush against some of the petals. “This is unexpected.”

Bucky smiled, taking the seat across from you. “I was going to hand deliver them down to the med floor but I figured you might be a bit overwhelmed this morning. And maybe Sergeant Handsome would distract you from important work.”

You rolled your eyes, though it was impossible to hide your giddiness and fight off your warm cheeks. “You’ve gotta let that one go, please.”

“Absolutely not.” Bucky shook his head, still smiling. God, would you two ever stop smiling? There was something incredibly comforting about knowing Bucky was feeling just as wild as you were when it came to all these kinds of feelings.

Ever since he kissed you - when you were sopping wet and injured and a mess, all wrapped up into a towel - things had just been heightened. Not that everything had been smooth sailing, especially when it came to your pain and this recovery process, but going through all of it with Bucky was exactly what you needed.

Every time you struggled or hit a new roadblock, he let you have a moment to react then he simply cheered you through it. “You can do hard things,” he would echo back to you time and time again. (Which was particularly annoying sometimes, like when you were on your first official date and couldn’t twirl your pasta very well.)

As you were approaching the end of your lunch break, sharing a dessert with Bucky, you sighed. “Can I just say something out loud?” 

Bucky nodded. “Of course.”

“I just…” You reached to adjust your glasses as you found your words. “..can’t help but think about how right now I should be preparing to be on the field team and maybe even going out on missions to help and.. I’m just disappointed.” 

Bucky put down his fork, churning through his own thoughts before he replied.

You continued. “I mean, I guess there’s no way of knowing if I would have even passed the evaluation though. Seeing as I never even… it’s likely I might not have been ready. Maybe I’ll never be ready for it now. I have to start from scratch with this—” You held up your wrist. “I can’t even do the boring parts of my regular job with one hand. I have to do the extra boring stuff instead. I.. I’m just whining. I’m sorry.”

“Do you have to get back right away?” Bucky asked, grabbing his phone. He sent a quick message then stood, extending his hand out for you to grab. “Let me show you something.”

Your manager had told you to ‘take it easy’ your first week back, so running late from lunch probably wouldn’t be a problem. So, you grabbed Bucky’s hand and followed. 

The upper floors of the tower weren’t somewhere you had ever visited before. You shot up the elevator and nearly let out a gasp when you and Bucky arrived in Tony’s lab. It was huge - with bright lights, big windows and plenty of flashing screens. 

“Stark?” Bucky called out, keeping his hand tethered to yours as he guided you through the space. 

“Over here,” Tony called back, popping out from behind a screen. “It’s all loaded up. I’ve gotta run to meet Pepper and some very irritated investors but I’ve granted you full access to the video footage.” He turned towards you. “How’s the hand?”

You tried to give him a thumbs up. You winced. “Getting there.”

“I’ve got a good therapist - physical therapist, that is. No one can help this brain.” Tony tapped his temple. “I’ll send you his details.” 

Just as quickly as you arrived, Tony departed, giving one last pointed look at Bucky before he disappeared into the elevator muttering into his wrist. 

“Sit,” Bucky instructed, pulling a chair and positioning it in front of the screen. “Please.”

You let out a dramatic sigh before complying. 

Bucky sat in another chair at your side, picking up a nearby tablet. With a swipe of his hand, video footage appeared on the screen ahead. It started to play. 

It was footage of you - giving your all during your training sessions. From the sparring drills to physical challenges, you kept up and even performed better than some of the others. 

You snuck a glance towards Bucky, who was watching the footage with what could only be described as a proud smile. 

“You’re resilient, sweetheart,” Bucky said quietly, turning his head. “Although I could offer you some tips, you woulda past Sam’s eval - there’s no doubt in my mind.”

“Tips? Like what?” You couldn’t help yourself from smirking. “You wanna throw down on a gym mat?”

“Preferably a mattress, actually,” he muttered, raising an eyebrow as he paused the video. “Well, right there - you could have—” 

“Okay, I don’t need a play by play.” You nodded and let out a slow exhale. “I get it. I’m capable. I just have to.. get back to that.”

Bucky turned back to you again. “You’ll get there. I’ll help. I can be your personal trainer.”

“Okay.” You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Now, about that mattress.”

--

 ONE YEAR LATER

Three months. It had been three months since you were officially on the field medical team. The job hadn’t been easy or soft - especially the first time you were dealing with bullet wounds in the middle of nowhere. 

The med team was a tight knit group though - you had joined a new training group following many months of recovery and training and luckily found a wonderful team of colleagues. Not only that, your time supporting major Avengers missions had been an incredible, and daunting, experience.

But today, three months in, you were finally on a mission with your boyfriend. Bucky’s speciality was covert ops and most of his missions were small-scale and secretive, with only a select team of Avengers involved. But this particular mission was a bit different - with the medical team joining later as things had escalated.

After everything had settled, including a few injured civilians who were assisted and transported for further care, everyone had returned to the jets with a long flight home ahead. You found a spot on the jet with Bucky, Sam, Steve and a few others. 

“Agent! Medical attention is needed over here.” 

You whipped your head around, searching for Steve and where his voice was coming from. You took a few strides forward, pausing as the jet started to take off. You found Steve sitting near the back with Bucky.

“This man is dying of a broken heart, apparently,” Steve rolled his eyes, pushing off from his leaning position and patting Bucky on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

You just sighed but couldn’t help smiling. You grabbed Steve’s arm before he got too far away. “Want me to clean that up?” You pointed to a small cut near his hairline.

Steve waved his hand. “Thank you but it’ll be fine by morning.” He gave you another smirk before heading to sit with Sam in the cockpit.

“What’s wrong with you, Sergeant Handsome?” You smiled at Bucky as you stood in front of him.

He reached out to place his hands on your hips, slotting you just between his legs as he sat. “Two hours with you and not even a kiss yet.”

“Oh my god,” you swatted his shoulder. “I was helping people. Your knives were flying all over the place. When was the optimal time for that?”

He replied with an exaggerated eye roll. “Alright, fine.” He extended his hand up to cradle your jaw, pulling you down to meet his lips. 

“Better?” You asked, shifting to take the seat beside him. 

“Much.” He nodded, turning enough to get a better look at you. “How are you doing though? I know today is–”

“I meant what I said the other night,” you cut him off. “Seriously.”

You knew Boone was getting out of jail after serving a year, which admittedly was the best sentencing you could have hoped for. Not that it really made up for his indiscretions but you knew you’d never see him again anyway. You didn’t want to waste anymore of your energy or time on him ever again.

“Forgetting he exists is only one thing. You know I can make sure he actually ceases existing and–”

“Bucky,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m good. Truly.”

You lifted your right hand to stretch your fingers, taking a moment to admire the fancy glove Tony had designed for you. It was reinforced with something that gave you even more support when out in the field. You were grateful for it, though your rehabilitation had been successful. Slowly you pulled it off your hand, pausing to stare at the lines on your skin. All that remained was an occasional ache and some fading scars.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Bucky raising his right hand and you grinned. You knocked your knuckles into his twice then wiggled your fingers at one another. Before you could pull back, Bucky gently grabbed your hand and moved it closer, pressing a soft kiss against your scarred knuckles.

Maybe you were left with a few fading scars. And maybe every single step along the way hadn’t been easy. 

But you had Bucky by your side. Bucky, who you found unintentionally, whose touch filled you with life. 

And maybe that was all you needed.

[catgirltoofies]

the reason people think this is because they simply see the surface of what's given to them. they see homura as aloof and only concerned about madoka for basically the entire runtime of the show, and don't read further into it. of course, if you dig even a single inch below surface level you'll find out how much she cares about the entire quintet.

the reason homura acts with such hostility towards the other girls during the show is because of the amount of times she tried to save them and failed. she's a 14 year old girl and she failed to save the lives of her friends dozens of times. can you even imagine how terrible that is? not only watching the love of your life sell her soul, die, or lose her mind that many times, but also the lives and souls of your best friends? she tries to act like she doesn't care so she can avoid the trauma of loss. she hopes that by only focusing on madoka, she can at least save one of them.

with all that said, though, it's clear that she cares for them even despite her air of aloofness, and you can see this textually. when mami is killed by charlotte and the ribbons binding homura melt away, she says what can be translated as, "oh no..." or "it can't be...", though i think the english translation they use is "unbelievable". on the one hand, it could be argued that she's showing concern that madoka is in danger because the only other magical girl just died, but i think a far stronger argument is that she realized mami just died - again - and now she has to put her grief aside to go save madoka. and then later, when kyoko and sayaka are fighting, she steps in before they kill one another, because she knows that if she doesn't, one of them is going to kill the other, and nobody likes watching friends fight.

and THEN. during rebellion. god. she takes all of her friends, brings them back to life and creates an entire world for them to be happy in. she's shouldering the weight of their happiness entirely on herself, not to mention having to hold down the magical goddess that is madoka. she obviously doesn't know this at first, but that doesn't mean it doesn't weigh her down. very importantly, she also understands that in this world, her friends love her back, that's why she puts the gun to her head, she KNOWS that mami will stop her and uses that for a tactical advantage. she's too calculating to make a move like that without certainty. and THEN. and THEN! at the end of it all! when she witches out and claims the part of the law of cycles that is madoka! she creates another new world for her friends! one in which she views herself as the devil, the bad guy, the one that struck down god, and she surrounds herself with her friends. if she truly didn't care about the other girls, she would have simply expelled them from her world with madoka and kept her for herself. but she does. she cares so bad. it eats her alive and she loves it

every time someone mischaracterizes homura as not caring abt the other girls & only caring abt madoka, an angel dies.

like, how could you completely miss the point of rebellion that fucking bad??? genuine question.

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Top Six Arcane Characters ranked in reverse-order of how much silly fucking nonsense they have to put up with throughout the runtime of the show

6. Cassandra Kiramman (daughter became a cop [I'm so sorry girl], daughter randomly goes missing for several days and breaks into her own house shot in the leg with a fucking homeless lesbian, gets killed by Zaun literally four seconds after being convinced to grant them sovereignty, and if there is an afterlife she had to watch her daughter crash out spectacularly using her very own initiative to gas the poor. Embarrassing.)

5. Ekko (every single Topsider he meets is next-level stupid and he has to hold their hand like a baby even when they are a literal genius. Had to watch Cait say "The enforcers aren't oppressing you guys that's not true :( !!" with a straight face, had to watch Jayce say "Oh yeah we put the hexgate here so that if it blew up it would only release dangerous arcane-gamma rays upon YOUR people so nobody who actually matters would die" with a straight face, had to find out the founder of the city that oppressed him his entire life was literally just a stupid old man with a banjo, Jesus fucking Christ. He is low on this list because of the amount of silly nonsense he subjected other people to, especially in the AU. Also he threw a time-machine bomb at God which wasn't so much something that happened to him but felt worth mentioning)

4. Jayce Talis (literally on a constant mission to keep his very fragile partner from killing himself through sheer scientific negligence and is consistently thwarted by either Viktor's impulsivity, the narrative, or him-fucking-self. Had to go to the shadow realm while Heimer and Ekko partied in Utopia playing the banjo and dancing to silly little songs and the first person he has the absolute misfortune to see when he gets back is fucking Salo I would kill myself)

3. Mel Medarda (practically runs a counsel full of idiots twice her age at like 25, himbo situationship's twink almost dies every time they try to fuck, has to deal with her mother ravaging twinks with her eyes right in front of Mel's salad, got kidnapped by witches for literally no reason)

2. Silco (Girldad who somehow, despite being one of the least mentally hinged people in the undercity, has an even less hinged daughter who so regularly blows things up and kills people that he scolds her about it as though she'd just snuck out past curfew. Has to work with a gaggle of dumbasses to produce and distribute his sterocainoin I mean Shimmer who regularly plot to kill him but are legitimately too stupid and useless to pull it off, his factory got randomly busted up and a bunch of his employees killed by an angry twenty-something with pink hair and also The Guy From The Fucking Posters [imagine Niel DeGrasse Tyson and a twenty-two year old homeless lesbian blow up your job like tell me you wouldn't have a stroke] and had to deal with a TREMENDOUS amount of nonsense in the AU where Ekko out of nowhere reminds him of his Most Traumatic Memory Ever and also the founder of Piltover blows up and his teenage stepkid is the only one who saw it happen.)

1. Sevika (Literally cannot ever catch a break for one second. Just wanted to help Zaun be free from Piltover and gets absolutely bodied by one or the other of Felicia and Connol's cursed fucking daughters every other episode in season 1, loses a combined total of like four??? arms, is forced to clean up the typically VERY bloody messes of her boss's unhinged daughter because he's such a pookie-wookie that he refuses to discipline her in any way, becomes the unwilling parent of two (2) mentally ill orphans, is subjected to Jinx's constant jokes at the expense of her missing arm (which Jinx is responsible for, by the way) gets given a political position as some form of shitty reparation when she is NOT a politician she is the guy who backs up the revolutionaries like miss girl just wanted to gamble punch people and fuck whores can you let her live her life??? Is one of the few people to survive and probably hates every minute of it)

[gotham-daydreams]

The Dawn

Day 5 {Challenge Masterlist}

Has come, but of course, not every day is meant to go as planned.

[Yandere Batfam × Gender Neutral! Cop Reader(?)]

[Warnings: Gore-esc descriptions (a lot of mentions of flesh, flesh moving, muscle, teeth, growth like that and being described being where they shouldn't be), eldritch horror sort of description, ooc characters (?), implied death, alien reader, monster reader, confusing and vague description, obsessive behavior (at least implied), hardly a sprinkle of possessiveness but it's there if you squint, an almost-end-of-the-world scenario. Suicide in the form of self-sacrifice, there is fighting but nothing in detail, harm is done to the reader, body horror.] (Note: If I missed any, I apologize but I think you get the gist. This one is a doozy. Might be a little confusing, and isn't my best work, but I tried my best and once again apologize for the delay. For all those reading this, I hope you enjoy and this has been an interesting short series to try and write with you.)

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Of a new day has come, and all the residents of the Earth could feel it. Before the sun showed itself, the skies seemed to lose their blue undertones for one half of the world, and the other could see the effects as people – imitators and humans alike – with patches of stars etched into their skin, offered themselves to the sun when it shined down on them, all just to join the vessel who had given promises it never intended to keep. With their essence going into the ground of the Earth, slipping into every crack and crevice, dropping into the near boiling waters as brown, near reddish undertones overtake the atmosphere.

You don’t wait until morning, not with everything in place and nearly everything prepared.

The detective that came with you from Metropolis was lost, but a few miniscule organisms being lost compared to the large amount of other lifeforms on this planet meant little. He served his purpose, just as the rest had – and of their own volition no less. All for the chance to get closer to whatever their heart and mind desired most, a promise you never made but they believed in anyway. It was a funny thing, how something like that worked, but it’s something you’ve come to expect and have worked with numerous times. It’s helped you before, especially with the last few planets, and a little planet such as Earth didn’t seem to change that. Not that such a silly little thought had ever crossed your mind.

Even if the effects seemed to differ, and your encounter with this world’s strange anomalies seemed to only prove that further – you can’t say it wasn’t… enlightening in a way you hadn’t considered before. Which was saying a lot since you’ve had this ‘effect’ on living things for a long time, and yet you still learn more about it as it helps you feed and grow all the more. Admittedly, you didn’t notice it much at first – but after that day, you haven’t forgotten about it. You couldn’t. Not when it held the potential to finally satiate your unending, painful, excruciating appetite.

The memory is a fond one, and you can’t help but recall it each and every time you’re able to feast once again. After all, it’s done you so much good – and without it, you never would’ve been able to even fathom being where you are now. Let alone imagine how utterly satisfying a good meal could really feel. Not with how your own people treated such things, and certainly not with their inability to move from such idiotic customs and traditions – always looking towards a future they never truly worked towards. Though, you had no such problems, and if there was anything you had to thank them for – it would be that one fond, meaningful memory you hold that’s allowed you to see the error of their ways, and be the one to break the cycle of such foolish nonsense. They were lazy, almost arrogant with how confident they were that a good meal large enough to fulfill all of them would come someday and fall right into their laps. It was honestly embarrassing that you were supposed to be the same as them.

However, unlike them you have drive, ambition, and the will to actually try and achieve what they so desperately wished for. To say you had a ‘good meal’ was putting it lightly – as you’ve heard humans put it, in their terminology, you feasted like a king that day. Although the price was high, it was to be expected as food such as that didn’t come easy, nor did it simply grow from the ground. No, such a thing didn’t even exist on your planet.

The results alone were worth it, that much you knew – and it was enough for you to do it again, and again, and again.

One tradition from your species did stick, for it was the only thing that actually made your meals feel better with time. Especially as each and every feast made it easier to endure such things, and this own ‘habit’ of yours became more than just a means to an end. More than just a way to fill your gut and move onto the next planet – no, no, no. It was about feeling the rewards of your efforts, and being able to truly take it all in. You’ve heard a few humans refer to it as ‘chasing a high’, and you can certainly agree that it feels similar to that, just on a much larger scale.

Hence why now, your excitement knew no bounds. You could feel the sun just about to rise, but could feel all those already under its haze begin to fall rapidly, and that alone sent tingles down the spine of your current form. If there was one thing you appreciated about humans, it was their need to please – something that, in a moment like this, certainly changed things enough to where you would surely remember them after this. Their planet may have been small, but you could feel the thrill of the coming feast edging you on. These were certainly the most confusing, annoying, and impatient species you’ve ever worked with – but you couldn’t deny how helpful and fascinating they’ve been. You’ve learned a lot from this little preparation of yours, but now? Oh, now you’re able to finally relish in the reward for your efforts.

The small group of officers you came in with from Metropolis await outside the door for you, and line the hall in straight, parallel lines with their backs to the walls, and after them are the devout members of your little gathering you’ve had placed in Gotham a long time ago. You’ve honestly forgotten most of their names by now, but none of that mattered, and they didn’t seem to mind regardless.

A more natural smile rests on your face, and as you take one step out of the door, their bodies unravel right before your eyes. The very essence that made you, the thing your planet was mostly made out of, replaced the very humans who had followed you so diligently until this day. Most of them had described it as a sort of red dust, but you’d compare it more to the pollen plants on this planet produced, the ends of dandelions – but you could see the comparison, especially when it was more condensed. Something you had to figure out in order to even have them touch it or interact with it in any meaningful way. That was annoying at best, but once it was all figured out… well, you could appreciate humans for at least one other thing. Nevertheless, this was your reward to them, and they all took it with such ease that all you could do was smile wider and continue on with the rest.

The particles begin to swarm you, not one touching the ground as you breathe them in. Even tasting it on your tongue as you pass by more organisms, and they add to the growing haze around you.

By the time you step out of the apartment, it's hard for any other human to see you amongst the storm that seems to be forming around you, but you just continue to walk calmly. Each and every particle sinks into every pore of your body, and as much as you liked this vessel – since it was from one of your most devout followers, and you honestly had a bit of favoritism for it – you knew you’d have to let it go. Human bodies weren’t made to hold you, and could hardly withstand a fraction of your shifting abilities as it is. Like this, you knew it would only be moments until you shred this body to pieces with the mass you’re going to accumulate. Hm. Maybe as a true sign of respect for being such a wonderful host, and offering a body that could actually withstand the transfer while being able to last so long, perhaps you could save them last. For ‘dessert’, as humans called it.

You personally didn’t understand it fully, but it seemed like a good thing. So it’d have to do for now, and seemed honorable enough.

Licking your lips, the sun peaked above the horizon, and while it was still mostly white – the ring around it was a faint red, and the once blue skies were stained and tainted with murk, looking no better than the waters of the Earth. The clouds almost looked dirty from down below, and the world flooded with an odd silence it was never capable of before.

No screams sounded, but as you made your way to the heart of Gotham, many humans approached you to become part of the swirling particles around you that were growing into a sort of cyclone. All in an attempt to feed you, to give or gain whatever your mere ‘presence’ had told them. Their eyes began to leak with water, and they bore their teeth at you in such an odd way – with the corners of their lips still turned up, as if trying to smile with the bone underneath revealed. Something akin to ‘cheering’ filled the streets, and even if you didn’t fully understand the sound itself, you knew what it was supposed to convey.

Joy.

It was then that you knew this planet would truly be one to remember, as it too would relish this day – just as you were going to relish it. 

Before you could risk more damage happening to this vessel of yours, you stripped yourself from it – tucking it away in a nook between buildings before letting the swarm fully attach itself to you with no barriers left in between.

Finally, you could eat to your hearts content. 

— — — — — — — — — —

In full honesty, they should’ve anticipated that you’d be excited for this. That the very moment the first person decided to jump ship, you’d be itching to start, and get things going early – but they had hoped they’d have more time regardless. Your little countdown said as much, but clearly you were impatient, or simply just hungry – but those two things weren’t mutually exclusive, and it was sort of cute how excited you seemed to be. Even if the cost itself was great, and only growing steeper.

They were so close to finishing, and just on time too, but they’d just have to work with this. They didn’t have much of a choice, and even if they could hear the siren’s song from here, could feel the temptation in the very marrow of their bones as it practically ached to be released – they knew what awaited them would be much greater if they resisted and played this right. They’ve gathered as much help as they could, and with your effect washing over everyone on the planet at full force… well, if no one wanted what they did, they were useless anyway.

Getting started was easy – they had begun that part hours ago, and while you were taking your little ‘nap’ no less. A little over half of them were working on little to no sleep, but whatever you did…? It gave them just the energy boost they needed to continue regardless. As if their bodies have been freed of their limitations – or they just couldn’t feel the repercussions as strongly. Regardless of what it was, they weren’t complaining, and took full advantage of this. Barbara was even able to stand from her wheelchair, and even as her legs shook, she could nearly run like this despite still being unable to feel them entirely. Almost.

Those who were most needed on the finishing touches stayed, and the others went to greet you properly.

Finding you wasn’t the hard part – especially not when civilians were practically running in your direction, and all organic matter slowly seemed to fade away, and float towards where you were as well. Like just you revealing yourself made life corrode and rot away at the seems, almost like you had an amplified version of death’s touch, or perhaps were the manifestation of death itself – not that they believed such silly nonsense. You were a hungry little thing! You just needed a bit of discipline, and a very good teacher.

Luckily for you, they were many things – and they’d help you. Just as you’re going to help them.

The swarm looked mesmerizing from afar, and really matched the more earthy and dirty undertones the whole city seemed to take. Like roots from the ground, moss on walls, or vines hanging down from any high point they could reach – masses of flesh and veins seemed to form and grow. Latching onto buildings, and coming from the ground and every crack in the pavement below. Any other life that wasn't close enough to you, such as pets and so on… well, the crawling, writing masses from the ground and various buildings seemed to take care of it, and consumed what you immediately could not. Stemming from the very soil of the city that was once a dark brown, and now seemed oddly red – as did everything else the others seemed to touch before this day.

Small bits of vein and thin bones formed in food, with small pieces left in coffee beans, flour, and similar things having small spots of red in them. No one had to touch any of the baked goods to know the rot forming inside, and it's almost curious how all these small pieces writhe and wiggle, trying to reach one another in order to grow and form a larger mass. As if, even like this, such tiny pieces knew where other small fragments were. How to recognize each other, and had a natural need to be close. To fulfill its purpose.

Reaching the center of the city was easy, the lack of distractions was helpful – not that anything could take their eyes off of the spire forming right before their eyes.

Rising above the skyline, and as if trying to touch the sky and grow closer to the warmth the star it held, provided, was a sculpture in the making – and almost felt inappropriate to see it now, incomplete, unpolished, flawed in a way nothing human could be. Like strings of life, twisting in a braid, flesh from the ground began to rise up and formed something that was shaped like the top half of a human but lacked all the necessary features of one. Various rows of teeth, arteries, muscle, tendons, bone, and so on appeared all over the spire, with it growing much bigger the closer to the ground it was – where most of the feeding was done, as various mass of flesh dragged themselves across the ground and flung themselves to the center piece, allowing it to grow, and for the particles around you to take on a much brighter shade of red. The storm forming around you from the sheer amount of feeding you were doing all at once was nothing short of fascinating, but also made it easier to spot you, even if said ‘storm’ drew more dense around your form.

They couldn’t do much with the storm acting as a sort of barrier between you and them, and they knew the moment they crossed… well, their bodies would make the choice for them – and they couldn’t have that, so they started to cut off your supply from the outside.

Soon, smoke joined the clouds as fires began to spark, and nearly everything was set ablaze — something that immediately caught your attention. To say you weren’t happy was putting it mildly, but your actions afterwards were predictable.

You immediately went in for the attack, and chaos spawned from there. Noises never meant for human ears sounded, and it only further confirmed how alien you truly were – even if your most pure form tried to shape itself as a human at the top. Tendrils and other masses from buildings close to you shot out, and began attacking outside of the swarm of particles. Little to no thought was put behind the attacks, just simply charging forward, and trying to either grab ahold of or take out whoever was being attacked. All with the intent to kill, to consume no matter what – that much was obvious, and so was the fact that despite such smaller organisms holding no brain, they didn’t attack or run into each other. Working in tandem, acting as smaller parts that worked to keep the bigger, much larger and complex machine running.

The fight that broke out was messy, but thanks to you, the family was able to work in sync much better as well – and still being connected to you was very helpful in this instance. For once, the amount of damage they’d cause to the city was of little concern to them, as the flames roared on, and they used their most destructive methods yet. Others were extra messy with it compared to the rest, but there was a certain delicacy in their actions as the swarm slowly grew smaller and more dense, but ultimately got them closer to the center.

Naturally, your temper and mood was only worsening. Making you rage all the more and still try to consume as much as possible, but also growing more petty as you destroyed building, streets, and so on with your roots as an attempt to kill them, get them away from you, and or just rid of them entirely – but also to see something they had cultivated and tried to shape over their short lifespans, destroyed.

If they were all human, perhaps it would’ve worked – but they weren’t, and at least had partially expected this. After all, you were more akin to a child or wild animal when it came to these things. They didn’t exactly know how many times you’ve done this, or where, but had a good enough idea to suspect you didn’t expect much to begin with. Maybe this sort of thing had come easy to you before, and they didn’t necessarily see that as a bad thing, but that also meant your defenses were down, and they fully intended to use that.

Eventually, the few left at the manor had come back to join the battle, with a note being made to Bruce, and some things being discussed as majority of the action was kept elsewhere. After, was when the real plan began.

They started at your roots, which you immediately tried to defend, but you had to focus on all other things as you couldn’t sacrifice the organisms closest to you for growth you could get back quickly. Food was the most important thing to you at the moment, everything else was secondary. Yet, it seemed like these damn Wayne’s knew that as they deliberately went after your food, and also burned your defenses.

This was supposed to be the easiest city to handle, the one that would allow you to pass the first stage with ease – and move in more food without anyone catching on too quickly. They had no powers, they were at the disadvantage besides a few flimsy contacts, and had only noticed anything was wrong during their final moments – but they somehow managed to learn of your greatest and most shameful weakness, knew where to attack, and were still able to coordinate and think clearly enough to form plans?! It wasn’t fair!! It isn’t FAIR!

Another loud shriek fills the air, and when you begin to feel a tingling ache – you finally take things a little more seriously, and more of your mass forms into muscle and bone. Yet, you swear you hear the smallest sounds of amusement from below through the smaller piece that had yet to reach you, coming from various members of this little, pathetic excuse of a so-called ‘family’. Something akin to anger sparks again, and you target all who dared to find anything about this ‘funny’.

You were so focused on targeting anyone who insulted you with such pathetic noises that you hardly noticed when you were low enough to swipe at some individuals – but eventually, you tire of this game.

“ENOUGH!” You shout, voice booming and loud as it echoes down the overwise quiet streets. Taking all the mass you could, you place yourself atop the spire of flesh, bone, and writhing life again. Forgetting your reasons for even doing this, you take in all of the particles that swarm around you, with them swirling around you in a whirlwind before it all stops, and you finally let out a sigh. Having to remind you that these foolish little creatures that dare stop you are made of only a fraction of what you have, that they are merely human, weak, and nothing more. A language without scripture falls from the countless mouths etched and stitched across the beautifully erotic form you call a body, but whatever you said, it makes the small pieces that were left in even the furthest parts of Gotham bolt towards you, and help grow the mass. There, much better.

Looking down at the pathetic life forms that tried to strike you down, you curse them in the only way you know how, and all the windows of the buildings around you shatter into fragments of glass. Whatever mass was able to grow in them. Formed together in large tendrils, and slammed down on the concrete below – beginning their own attacks, and rooting in the building they overtook. Like a parasite clinging onto its host long after death.

Anger itself wasn’t something you were entirely familiar with. You yourself didn’t seem to realize it, but they could tell – something like that is easy to pick up on in their usual line of work, and especially when one of them can read body language as easily as she can. It didn’t seem like an important detail, and it certainly didn’t make your attempts any less ruthless, but it made way for them to have the confidence that you’ve had all this time up until now.

Unfamiliarity can make one messy, uncoordinated, and unable to notice things they wouldn’t miss otherwise. Naturally, they should’ve been that way with you, but because of your very… ‘presence’ – it was nearly impossible for them to feel that way.

The air becomes harder to breathe as smoke continues to fill the air, and the smell of chemicals is mixed in. You hardly notice, not having such senses in a form like this, but you can feel the heat, and it only makes you more agitated – and thus more violent in your attempts to snuff out such insulting efforts to interrupt your feeding.

Your roots move further into the ground, and spread – parts of the braid that make up the lower half of your body untangle themselves and provide whatever defense and offense they can. More of your body hardens, and from down below, you look like a tree that’s slotted itself into the earth and just uncovered the fleshy, bone-like structure inside. People keep trying to run towards you, and fewer are succeeding, but those that do turn to particles for a brief moment before their immediate consumption. It’s clear you're taking this a little more seriously, and the family responds by doubling their efforts.

Then, the strangest thing happens as an oddly familiar shape moves in the sky, and soon blocks out the sun. Illuminating the pulsating, red mass that is your true and most captivating form. Yet, as much as they’d like to stand around and simply stare in awe, they take this opportunity while you’re disconnected from the sun.

Sounds of gunfire, roaring flames, indescribable shrieks, and occasional communication from the remaining heroes increase in volume as you only seem to grow bigger and bigger – yet clearly more agitated as well. Who knows what exactly is getting on your nerves, but it’s enough for you to swoop down and swipe at them. Something akin to animalistic growls escape the countless misshaped ‘mouths’ on your form, and your so focused on attacking and getting these pesky bugs away from you that you fail to realize a few areas on your roots begin to secrete a substance they aren’t supposed to. Though, when you finally do and are about to pull away – one of the younger ones, an anomaly you notice too late that is dressed like the pathetic family pulls you closer to them with a force you can hardly account for, and just as you try to retaliate, you realize you can’t right away.

The bottom half has been severed from you, and you only come to realize what, exactly, that substance may have been as an explosion ruptures throughout the city.

Of course, you try to over take the body of the being that grabbed you – only to get pulled off once again, and flung away from any nearby bodies. Only screams leave the body they severed you from, and all you can do is scramble as each part of you that’s left tries to latch onto something, anything, and that desperation nearly splits up the upper body you have left.

Some of it does split off, and as you lose multiple senses, you form very grotesque eyes on the neck of your form, and they move – trying to look in every direction possible for something to latch onto – and then you spot it.

Not a single question runs through your mind, as you rush and latch onto the body of the human form you had worn all this time. Which now laid out in the open, looked deprived and like it was nearly about to rot away at the seams – but as the smallest of tendrils from your body touch it, life returns to the corpse.

Of course, some damage is done to it, but you have no time to think about that as the sun begins to peek through the moon once more – only for it to get cut off once more. You can barely feel the warmth of its rays over the cold metal that both binds and burns you, but despite it all you try to fight it, and call to the pieces of you that remain.

Reaching out to the sun, you’re dragged across the rough concrete as you try to claw toward the sun. It’s harder than they expected to move you, but with enough effort, they’re able to pull you away.

At the sacrifice of some of your form, you try to shape whatever defenses you can and fight against whoever is dragging you and lash out against them – but more chains are formed as a response, and their grip on you is anything but kind and tender. They feel as if they’re about to rip you apart and melt away whatever’s left over, but nothing grants you that mercy.

Your sensations are dulled with the dark cloak that surrounds you, and you can hardly even register as you're thrown into a box that’s air tight. There is no telling where you’re going, if anywhere at all, but you can feel the call and connection to the pieces of you in Gotham City beginning to sever. Not once do you stop struggling and screaming. An endless stream of your own curses – both foreign and familiar to this planet accompany you until you're roughly tossed into a dark space you can hardly make out, but it feels as comfortable as the pavement in the human city.

The cloak falls, and you can only glare at the sight that greets you – but they can hardly focus on that, not when majority of the color in your iris has taken on a light shade of pink that surrounds your pupil in the shape of a large star, with the gaps in between each corner being filled with your original eye color. Mass of muscle is stuck to half of your face and around one of your eyes, as if the tendons themselves are attached to the skin and grew out of it. It trails down to your arm – with your hand being similar to Greenwood’s after his little ‘reveal’, only smaller and reduced to the same size as your human hand. It's clear the transition from your true form to a human one has come with its downsides and its own flaws, and even if at least one of them was sorry, a few weren’t and almost preferred you this way. It felt like the best of both worlds, and at least this way you were more comprehensible, and easier to understand. Less of a headache to look at – not that they had minded, you were utterly breathtaking regardless.

Still, with you down here, they had a lot of cleaning to do upstairs, and as right as it felt to be down here with you, they couldn’t let you get to their heads too much just yet. There would be time for that later.

“LET ME OUT!” You demand, and honestly it almost works – as did all of your commands prior to this, but just as all those previous moments, they’re able to resist. Their own drive and will trumping yours. Their need to have what’s been promised to them taking over any and all sense.

So, those that brought you in begin to leave, moving to the elevator they had used to come down and head back up to the batcave. However, the last of them stops for a moment, and turns to glance at you. “Just sit tight, and we’ll be right with you. Don’t try anything too drastic- I’d hate to return to nothing but a puddle of goop- and the others too, I guess.” He didn’t seem too thrilled on the subject, as if the concept of sharing with the rest upset him somehow. “But, go ahead and knock yourself out. Because you’re going to be staying with us for the rest of your time here on Earth. So, if you’ve got any other space buddies?”

He turns to face you better, though only by one additional step. “I hope your last memories of them were good enough.”

When he turns and leaves, another shriek tears through your throat, but by the time they all reach the bat cave, it’s hardly even audible. They can sense it more than they can actually hear it, which is an odd sensation but one they’re willing to adapt to. The payoff already feels more than worth it, and just knowing you're around makes them feel so good they don’t know how they’ve been able to survive without you until this point in their lives. Like they’ve all been missing something, and whatever it is, you have it, and are the key to gaining it.

So even as you scratch at the damp, cool walls – deprived of a meal you were so close to fully devouring, and your senses can hardly pick up on anything as the sun's rays are far, and all other extensions of yourself are being dealt with, you scream until you can no longer afford to sacrifice the amount of energy you were able to consume.

Earth will regret this. They will regret this, and you will do everything in your power to ensure that each waking moment of theirs is nothing but utter torture…

However, in spite of all the dark promises you make and vow to see through, your glorious feast is cut short, and life on Earth is allowed another day to flourish.

[zoieru]

Mind-dump analysis of Sunday and Welt

Non-romantic, though you can see it that way if you want. Basically musings on their dialogue, body language, trauma responses and their views of the world. Based on my noggin, my experiences, and my knowledge on psych and philosophy. Mentions of trauma, and Aventurine. Spoilers for 3.0. Come chat with me about it in the ask box pls oml. (html broke read more link sorry)

So I was writing an Astral Express Sunday headcanon thing, and realised the part with welt I had more thoughts on than I could handle !!! So I decided to make a bigger breakdown of it from my perspective weeee. 1.7k more thoughts...hehe. Includes pics.

So, Sunday is essentially coming into this new world (the astral express lifestyle, the knowledge and involvement of other planets issues, everything not just Penacony) for the first time, and in a vulnerable state at that. He was trained and groomed to be who he was basically his whole life, and not just the positions of power and control, but his position he gave himself also of protector of his sister. That's been taken from him, all of it, his role, his direction, drive, everything. To say the man must feel lost is understatement of the century.

So when he is confronted with Welt Yang, a mysterious and stoic man who displays his intelligence by deciphering there's something up with his disguise, questions him on his motives, etc, but then seemingly confidently starts to trust him, he is...confused?

First, Welt says multiple times that he knows how he feels, he's had to leave a home quickly too, but doesn't elaborate. So his reasons are already determined at least somewhat by his empathy for Sunday. That is a lot for Sunday to work through. He mustn't have really related to anyone in his life, even his sister due to their vastly different experiences despite being in the same spot. To have someone, and quite quickly, especially after what he just did, sympathise, empathise, and relate to him...thats intriguing, and confusing, and probably a bit suspicious.

Further, when going to meet Robin, Sunday outwardly questions why Welt is giving him the privacy to speak to her, refusing to be a bystander for his benefit. Welt answers:

'i believe you're the kind of person that has the ability and desire to use everything to your advantage... but that everything does not involve Miss Robin'

Sunday pauses, and thanks him. It's confusing, unexpected, and yet another puzzle into Welt's character. I think this moment means an incredible amount to Sunday. Ultimately, his sister is everything to him, where everything started, and Welt has given him the space and freedom to do the thing he is so nervous for, he is dreading but must do, one of the hardest things he's probably ever done, say goodbye for an indeterminate amount of time. Who else has probably shown him this sort of seemingly genuine act of kindness, goodness, before? Probably no one. Plus, despite not really outwardly discussing his relationship with his sister with Welt before this, Welt shows an understanding of Sunday's care for her, to the point his usual nature and methods don't apply to Robin.

So that's why Sunday asks another question, after saying goodbye to Robin

He's starting to see himself in Welt, I believe, in some way, when he says 'I had a feeling that you would never give up on someone who needed help' which is reinforced by his 'help' of Sunday just now. But I think what Sunday is maybe confused about here is why him, why here. He is confused why they 'help' him, a 'nortorious fugitive' and a 'friend they never knew', rather than people in new worlds, people he deems perhaps deserve it more, people who he thinks Welt should care about. I believe, here, he is still viewing things zoomed out, from a grand perspective. He sees 'people' as an entity, much like how he did with his plan, saving them from misery by keeping them in the dream. But Welt goes on to explain that it's the people he meets that are his trailblaze, but on an individual and connection scale, not 'helping peopleTM' like he tried to.

And that means Sunday, it means Tingyun. Sunday even asks directly, then, 'why me?', and Welt repeats his previous answer. 'i know how you feel.' despite what he's done, he offers him empathy, help, and connection. It's alien to Sunday. He has heard the worst of people's deeds, was tormented by them, wanted to save them from themselves, yet Welt is just accepting him.

Then another thing, Welt sits in the audience watching Sunday become himself, say goodbye to his old self and everything he once knew, literally becoming whole again, and slightly unsure of how he exactly he will be once both halves combine. This moment is so so intimate, so deeply personal, perhaps the most personal I mean he's literally talking to himself, becoming himself, shedding everything he's ever known, starting a new life. And Welt isn't just watching. He says:

'Regardless of the outcome, you will have a witness. I'll be waiting for you in the audience.'

Here, he does multiple things. One, he is promising Sunday he will be here for him and almost continue to accept him in whatever shape or form after he's done, giving him the respect and time to do his thing, and the support he wasnt planning to get. Its like...almost a threat, saying he wont let him run away after, but not quite. its also a signal of protection. He is staying with Sunday through this obviously terrifying and massive moment, at a safe and respectful but supportive distance, something Sunday was planning to go through alone. Also, he says he'll wait for him. That's so...personal. ugh, it's too much. And the thing is, Sunday lets him, thanks him, wants him to be there. Trusts him enough to see him at almost a most vulnerable point in his life. Crazy stuff.

Plus, during this line, the camera zooms in on Welt's face for just a few seconds, emphasising how big this is.

Now I'm not sure if we should assume Welt can hear everything Sunday says to himself. The theatre is empty, afterall, but I dont know. Sunday says he's scared, says why he's scared, tells himself he doesn't like himself, parts of him. It's so goddamn personal, heart wrenching, truly. And there's a line here I want to discuss quick.

'to save more lives, you must first understand what they live for and what they die for. The best way to achieve this is through personal experience.''

This is a reflection of Welt's words, his reason for trailblazing. It shows he's taken them to heart, ponders them, realises that to truly help people like Welt does, he needs to know them, not see them as an entity from above.

Also, when done, Welt makes a gentle joke that covers the supportive gesture of his acceptance of 'either' of Sunday's selves. He almost dismissed the whole act as if it was casual, while subtly acknowledging it's significance, and gently showing his support, so it all doesn't make Sunday feel uncomfy.

'Well, how should I address you now? Mr Sunday or Mr Wonweek?'

I love it.

Then Sunday has the confidence to request staying with the Astral Express Crew. Knowing the others might hate the idea, but having enough confidence in the fact that Welt at least seems to want him there.

'You are one of my trailblazing goals.'

Sunday looks visibly touched by this statement. the feels.

So let's now skip to the Astral Express, where he's been on a while let's say.

After all this, Sunday and Welt almost have this unspoken deep connection somehow. They have shared a deeply personal moment for Sunday, and Welt has shared more with Sunday about himself than he ever has with anyone on screen that we've seen before.begins to respect Welt Yang quite tremendously really. Sunday now has time to sit, think, reflect, and probably torment himself with thoughts.

I think he has built this ridiculous level of respect for Welt, perhaps more than for most in his life. And also intrigue, confusion. He perhaps observes him. It is obvious Welt has a troubled and mysterious past, the extent of which is unknown but suggested, yet the man has a poise about him that seems stable, secure, confident. It intrigues him, maybe makes him a little envious even that despite this man having no set 'home', travelling the trailblaze with seemingly little control over things Sunday feels he would lose his mind over, he still seems confident in himself.

You ever feel like you're pretty self sufficient and able when alone or most of the time, but theres that one person where you're in their company and it's suddenly like all your brain function has dimmed and been transferred to them and they're now the 'thinker' and 'doer' and you're just there mostly looking pretty?? That's Sunday and Welt sometimes. Sunday was so used to being everything, controlling everything, seeing everything, that now he can relax that, or rather forced to let go of all that, as hard as that is, he finds himself inadvertently letting Welt take over a bit, observing and involving himself but Welt taking the lead. It's perhaps part of a trauma response to having to grow up too fast, to not being able to have had the points in life where you can trust and let someone have control for a while without risk. So as a result of this trust and acceptance he has built with Welt, his brain just sort of...relaxes a little. Welp.

That's displayed well in the infamous 'mom speak to the doctor for me pls' scene, I think. Cute.

Okay it's the end now, I could probably yap more but my thumbs hurt. One more musing though:

I wonder what it would be like for Sunday and Aventurine to meet, after all of that. They, ultimately, had a similar journey in terms of them making a big decision, a big 'attempt' at something bigger than themselves intricately linked to their identities and core beliefs, having to face parts of themselves along the way.

Now that Sunday has shed his 'grandiose' demeanour and plans, I wonder what it would look like for them to meet on equal terms. (Obviously not really knowing how this whole thing will have affected Aven coming out of it).

These two men, as literally mentioned in the 'combining selves' scene for Sunday in the theatre, are fundamentally opposed. One has been made to and has had to build his life and principles on control. One has had no choice to and built his life on luck, lack of control. It's such an interesting dichotomy to me.

There's also this interaction with Welt and Sunday before meeting Robin:

'I had a hunch and decided to try my luck. Seems I can be lucky sometimes'

'its not like you to leave things to luck'

'I'm trying to change too'

It's twice, in this long section, that Aventurine/luck is mentioned, at least. I wonder how he would view him should he know more, and now that he seems to have a certain begrudging acceptance and respect for luck/chance.

OKAY IM DONE FR NOW HAHAHA come discuss with me if u want :3 hope you enjoyed.

Here, take this, its not safe out there

(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

[crane-posting]

"Hrm. No, they tended... unreceptive to traditional methods, as many do," Crane said with a dryness to his voice. "Though pop quizzes are quite a minor fear, as proper ones go. With the extensive psychological experimentation they were subject to, they tended afraid though effective."

He looked somewhat approving at the amount of thought being given to the vials, at least. A thoughtful, non-knee-jerk response was at times the best he could hope for from some, and even then many disappointed him. "My chemicals tend to begin subtler- it allows for a greater insight into the human psyche," Crane began the lecture, head tilted toward the table. "In items such as this, the best you can get out of title and label is word association- as well as how well you know the person who titled the item."

"The guesses are appropriate enough. Violence is simple- the expectation of such. Out of the three, it is often the most affected by past experience- a strike, about to land but never quite doing so." A moment, then Crane brought his hand up in the motion of a strike that never lands. "None of these are meant to be enjoyable, but there may be at times insight gained."

"Vacancy is, as predicted, a byword for disassociation. The knowledge of not being present at a time when it is extremely necessary, a few inspirations from sleep paralysis just to keep things interesting. An unimaginative chemist would call this a paralytic agent, but there is potential for much more."

"Then Vengeance," A brief huff of a laugh, though not quite amused. It does not quite seem that Crane is capable of finding much of science funny. "No, not quite- the other two were actions of their descriptors upon the person. This is the feeling you get when the consequences come for you. Of deserving it, with nowhere to run or hide. It works a little more against those with a less kind background, I believe."

He listened to the takedown of the methods of delivery neutrally enough, however. "Good- though I will add that in the gas form, with the method of delivery it tends to run faster than the other two, but deliver a lower dose. Good for- ah, immediate, controlled full-body panic attacks as far as I have observed."

It went unsaid that he had observed quite a lot.

Straw hats are not uncommon in Gotham City. They are inexpensive items of headgear that keep the sun out of your eyes during the summer and stop eye contact from being necessitated between the average citizen, ideal for sidestepping muggings and conversation alike.

They do, however, go out of season almost as soon as the chill of autumn's winds begin nipping at people's heels with the promise of ice. Though few people follow the rule of May 15th to September 15th anymore, it is still something of a strange sight to see one in January. Worthy of a second glance, at least. Or a first, on streets where looking at someone can be seen as an excuse for a knife between the ribs.

This one, however- wide-brimmed and frayed on the sides- have people crossing the street and leaving the nearest alley they can find. There is something of the shaded face, coupled with the long coat hanging over a gangly, long-limbed frame, that will have people swearing up and down to all but the creatures of the night they have not- no, they have never- seen anyone of that description.

The figure steps out in front of a door and knocks firmly. Three raps, each resounding crisply in the wintry air. He tilts his hat up with two fingers.

His face is exactly who one might expect.

Spending the morning comfortably in her home had been a pleasant change of pace from the busy late nights where she'd cram hours of work to fit almost impossible deadlines; Things she were used to doing while working with some of the most infamous villains in Gotham and running a Casino business basically on her own. She'd enjoyed her morning, having a hot cup of tea and making sure to pamper herself plenty with a long hot shower, covering herself in expensive soap and nice smelling oils for her skin. Dressed more casual today than usual, with a tight green long sleeved shirt and jeans, hair down. She considered wearing something flashier, but had little time to change her mind when she heard a knock on her door. To say she was ecstatic at the sight behind the door would be an understatement for certain, butterflies- or perhaps moths be more fitting for a man like this one, danced in her stomach. "Come on in, Make yourself at home Darling~" She'd coo as she stepped aside to allow the other to enter. She never made her affection for this man subtle, flirting with him more than anyone else she'd ever encountered.. And to that? Well, Amelia could just say she had a thing for brilliant minds.. Or maybe it was the fear that drew her in? Being around him was like threading the fine line of terror and arousal like walking on a tight rope. And truthfully? She adored the thrill.

[cerealbishh]

"Working with Tamara was heart-work. Every decision we made on set was to ensure our Hawk family was filled with love despite the hardships of our characters." - Morningstar Angeline

[seilon]

If i don’t get an update soon on my god damn top surgery insurance negotiation im going to lose my fucking mind

[icewindandboringhorror]

Hrmm... put together a roommates quiz finally after years of thinking it would be an interesting idea lol.. Though obviously not meant to be taken super seriously, I just like thinking about this aspect of personality compatibility. Like yeah, maybe you could get along with someone just chatting with them, but living together is such a different thing. .. curiouse...

[autumnrory]

i figure they’ll drop it in a few eps like they have with everything else but it would be a little funny if after all the barchie vs varchie shit that they just made beronica endgame

[nexus-nebulae]

another childhood bucket list item obtained: i finally have a snuggie

[bigironjuliette]

Realizing there are things Wrong With Me

[vogelmeister]

anyways i am feeling kinda brave today so im gonna share a potentially unpopular taylor swift hot take. when i was talking to my friend yesterday about ttpd i realised that i kinda have a similar problem with the anthology as i do with evermore.

like don't get me wrong, both have absolute gems (willow, tolerate it, long story short, gold rush and NBNC from evermore are great and i love the albatross, so high school, the prophecy black dog, manuscript etc) but i think both collections (bc anthology is not an album) suffer because they came out connected to a much superior more cohesive work, and both almost feel like rejects from the body of work that proceeded it.

[winnie1emon]

✧.* now what happens when you find a frustrated theodore nott on the quidditch pitch...?

theodore nott x prefect!lamb!reader (fem pov)

word count: approx. 2.4k

cw: MDNI!!, smut, dom!theo, innocent!reader, sexual language, praise, piv, fingering, unprotected sex, face painting lmao, slight exhibitionism(?)(on the quidditch stands lol)

a/n: first smut fic like ever i fear... don't bully please </3 + been working on this sleep-deprived, lmk about spelling mistakes :(

"Hey- hey!" you said loudly over the raging music, leaning over your friend's shoulder. "I'm gonna go; got prefect duty!"

Your friend, too engrossed in your house's quidditch victory party after they had beaten Slytherin earlier that evening, gave you a mere nod before realizing you actually said something. "Really? There are other prefects out anyways and you never find anyone. Don't be lame, just stay!"

"No, it's fine. I like walking outside anyways, it's fun," you explained, garnering a rather dismissive wave goodbye from your friend.

You trudged down the corridors searching for the way out of the castle. Curfew was approaching and you were given the task of finding a few stragglers outdoors; a task you most appreciated due to the fact you'd never find anybody and you were usually lucky with receiving ample amounts of good weather.

Too comfortable with the usual, you spent most of your patrol time frolicking on the grassy fields and never looked too carefully for any students. You were about to head back inside when you saw the broom shed's door open. Curiously, you peered inside and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary...

A bit daunted, you closed the door and suddenly saw movement in the corner of your eye. You whipped around quickly, seeing someone flying on the quidditch pitch. You made your way into the pitch, assuming it was some overzealous lowerclassman riding on their broomstick.

As you made your way into the pitch, you realized how large it really was, somewhat awestruck. Hearing a distressed grunt, you turned around and saw the person who was flying, quite a distance away, chuck their broom onto the ground. You hastened over and the image came into view. Their brunette waves became clearer with each step you took and you managed to get their attention.

"H-hey!" You waved. You came to a stop in front of them, slightly huffing as they looked at you acutely. "Theodore, it's curfew in like... oh, two minutes ago."

Theodore raised an eyebrow at your words, seeming as if he had no idea who you were. "What?" he asked you, even though he heard what you said.

"It's past curfew, you can't be here," you said patiently. "What are you even doing here?"

"What's it look like?" he retorted. "Practicing," he added before you could answer his rhetoric question.

"Well... you should practice tomorrow. You already had that game today, you should take a break," you suggested.

He gave you what was probably the most condescending look ever, roaming over your figure. "Yeah, and we lost, princess. Need to practice."

"Don't overwork yourself," you said, your voice tinged with concern. "You were great today, I saw!"

"Mhm, probably cheering on your house, yeah?" he sneered. "Just get lost, I'm not harmin' anyone by practicing, but you're going to tell someone aren't you?" He looked a bit taut and you couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for him. After all, he wasn't the worst player on his team yet he was the only one here practicing, probably losing hairs in the process.

"No, I won't tell anyone," you said quickly. "You look exhausted though. At least sit down." You trailed all the way to one of the tall wooden towers going up to the quidditch spectator stands, feeling the wooden bench poke your thighs. Surprisingly, he sat beside you on your right with a grunt, running his hands through his hair.

Well, now what.

You peered at him in wonderment as his gaze was set straight, admiring his birthmark. Your eyes trailed around the side of his face, looking at his thick, dark brows and then at his slightly unkempt hair. He turned suddenly to face you and you darted your head away, embarrassed. He let out a small scoff, throwing his head down in a smirk.

"So," you started. "You like quidditch?" you asked dumbly. He obviously did... he plays.

"I do," he responded. "When we win."

"You guys almost did," you consoled him, tentatively reaching to rub his shoulder.

Theodore didn't protest, finding the way your palm's touch warmed his shoulder unexpectedly comforting. He looked at your seemingly apologetic face before his eyes wandered down your form, going from your neck and then down to your legs.

"Mm, almost."

Fidgeting with your fingers, you spoke up again. "Yeah, almost! Almost is good!" You reassured him. "Don't beat yourself up-- you're already so stressed." You recalled the instances in class where he'd focus on his work, the times you saw him in the library as you patrolled the halls, and the way he never seemed to hang out with his friends this past week.

"Oh princess," he said, calling you that nickname again, making you turn a light shade of pink. "When has almost winning ever helped anyone? What can I do about the stress? Nothing's going to change if I don't work." He gave a nonchalant shrug, breaking contact with your sorry eyes as he buried his head in his hands.

"Uhm... I mean, do you want help?" You peered at him, wide-eyed and full of pity.

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

And that's how you found yourself sitting on the open quidditch stands, thighs squeezed together with your head downcast as Theodore rubbed lazy circles over your underwear.

"I-I don't really see how this is supposed to help you," you mumbled.

He used his other hand to hold your chin gently, guiding your head to face him. "You think seeing a pretty girl like you lookin' like this doesn't help me?" he simpered. You felt your face heat up from the compliment, shifting your thighs to press against each other some more.

He let go of your chin and you looked down to watch him spread your thighs apart gently. Despite never being his friend, his touch felt familiar, even soothing. In fact, you didn't protest against him, even when you felt him slip your underwear to the side and insert a thick finger into your cunt.

Your mouth agape, you turned to look at him, brows knitting together as he met your gaze with a lascivious smile. You pressed your lips together to try and catch your breath, but it only lasted a few seconds as your lips parted once he entered another digit into you. He moved slowly, not taking his eyes off of yours, drinking in your dazed look.

You felt his pace increase, his fingers going in and out of your now glossy cunt rapidly, and let out a shaky moan which made Theodore's mouth contort in a wicked smile. You threw your head back, looking up at the greying sky. He leaned closer to you, his warm breath hitting your ear as he whispered.

"Feels good, yeah? Feels good to help me decompress hm?" He asked you quietly, having you squirm from his touch. You nodded meekly and let out a small yeah in response.

You had never experienced anything like this before. You were sort of scared, but also excited... maybe a bit confused? ...happy to help?

His touch eventually slowed, his two now-soaked fingers leaving your cunt as he held them up in front of you. Your eyes followed his fingers, your face turning into that of surprise as he brought his fingers into his mouth momentarily.

"So sweet..." he breathed out. "Come on, open up," he slapped your cheek lightly with his clean hand.

You opened your mouth slightly, your eyes looking reluctant.

"Come on, don't be scared," he cooed. You opened a little wider and he gently placed the two fingers on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around slowly, tasting sweet, kind of salty as well, but you weren't sure if that was you or his fingers. Taking in your appearance with his fingers in your mouth, he gave a breathy chuckle. "Cute."

He stood up from the bench with a sigh, taking a step in front of you. "Just one more thing, that okay?" he asked, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile.

"Yeah- yeah sure," you agreed. Even though you were unfamiliar with what you guys were doing, you were just glad you could help him out in some way.

"Good girl. --Has anyone told you how sweet you are?" He leaned forward slightly and cupped your cheeks to tilt your head upwards as you stayed seated on the bench.

"Some people, mhm," you nodded.

"Well, they weren't lying." He complimented you casually, making your stomach lurch in an oddly pleasant way. You adverted your gaze so you could soak in his compliment, your head then snapping up at the sound of a zipper. He gave you a wink that you'd be thinking about for the next week and a dazzling smile that you couldn't protest against.

He guided your legs up off the ground so you'd be kneeling on the stands bench and turned you around, having you facing opposite of the center of the quidditch pitch, towards the castle. Your eyes widened from the circumstances, the risk of being so exposed. You heard him shuffle a little behind you, the sound of his pants going down, boxers following.

You felt one of his cold fingers brush against your skin as he pushed your skirt up, making you shudder. He pulled your sodden underwear down and you heard him take a sharp inhale. His fingers ran over your folds, eliciting a groan from him. "You're so wet... n' you've never done this?" he asked you.

You shook your head, making him sigh.

"And you really want to give this to me?"

"Yeah, I do," you muttered quietly. You didn't care that it was Theodore, you just saw him as someone who needed some help and you were going to give it to them... Oh, who were you kidding? Of course you cared that it was Theodore. The Slytherin that you'd always catch yourself ogling at during the quidditch games, the one you'd stare at in potions, the guy you'd hold the door open for before Charms class.

Seeing no reason to delay his pleasure, Theodore positioned himself between your legs, holding your waist from behind as he pushed the tip of his cock into your ready cunt. You couldn't help the large gasp you let out while he stretched you out. You tried to recuperate momentarily, but he continued to enter you slowly, feeling as if there was no end.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he murmured. He slid in and out of you slowly, picking up the pace over time before you started to let out involuntary moans.

"Theo- Theodore," you huffed out, almost whining. "The castle-- someone could see us," you worried.

His pace becoming incontinent, he brushed off your concern with ease. "No one will, okay?"

Even with his reassurance, you couldn't help but feel sheepish, your anxiety spiking as the thrill got to you.

"Oh my g-god," you moaned. Theodore leaned into your back, head resting on the nape of your shoulder. He snaked his arm on your other shoulder, putting you in a headlock. You brought your hands up to hold his arm, your mind going blank as he started up a relentless speed on you and had his other arm travel down to rub on your clit.

"Shh, shh," he whispered. "Now they will see us if you don't quiet down, yeah?" You nodded in agreement, understanding that you mustn't be loud. After a few minutes of biting back your moans as he drilled into you, he positioned you to lie on your back, on one of the benches. You complied and allowed him to reposition himself into you.

"F-fuck!" You mewled, unable to contain yourself in the new position.

"Shh, shh, shhh..." he shushed you once again, covering your mouth with a large hand as the other held both of your legs against his chest. "Be quiet for me, okay? You can do it," he murmured into your ear, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You nodded slowly as you looked up at him when he pulled his head away from you. "Good... so good."

So entranced by his eye contact, your brain drowned out the sounds of his cock going in and out of your sopping cunt, forgetting all about your precarious surroundings.

You felt the knot in your stomach begin to unravel and you knew that your orgasm was nearing. You clawed at Theodore's hand that was on your mouth and he let go, allowing your ragged gasps to float out into the air.

"You okay?" he asked you. "You close?" He couldn't help but smile endearingly at your state, horribly disheveled, biting your own lip to keep yourself from attracting attention.

"Mm," you nodded weakly, feeling your legs begin to shake. As you came undone, you felt him slow down, letting out groans of his own. You bit down on your lips harder and you could feel tears creeping into your eyes as you felt overloaded with sensations. He pulled out of you with a light pop and stepped towards your head.

He had his cock a few inches above your face and looked hesitant before asking, "May I?"

You honestly weren't very sure of what he was requesting, but you let out a soft yeah, being surprised once he spilled onto your face.

Your lips parted into an o-shape as you squinted slightly. After one last drop, you ran a finger on your cheek, observing the mark he left on you trailing down your finger. He dropped his hands to his side and crouched down to be face level with you. He cupped your face with his hands as he ushered you to sit up.

"You're a sweetheart, so nice of you to help," he praised. Even though he had just done things to you that you'd never even been brave enough to imagine an hour prior, you couldn't fight back the bashful look on your face.

"Of course," you whispered. "Do you feel better?" you asked, pulling your underwear back up.

"Yeah, yeah I do," he chortled. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You saw the sky darkening by the second and looked out the pitch. "Oh! Someone's coming!" you exclaimed.

He gave a mischievous smile that you could stare at for days, planted a quick kiss on your lips, and grabbed your hand to stand you up, brushing ur skirt down to cover your behind.

"Then let's go."

―――――――――ʚ♡ɞ―――――――――

[i2sunric]

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 (l.hs)

PAIRING: demon!heeseung x angel!reader (f)

SUMMARY: in a world where you either become angels or demons in the afterlife, heeseung and you were fates of high ranking. despite all the strict rules cast upon you, you two couldn't help but drown in the forbidden feeling of your love.

WARNINGS: kinktober. frforbidden love, mentions of blood and wounds, angels and demons, lucifer and God (i do not intend to offend anyone), sexual tension, smut, dry humping, making out, missionary, this is basically love making, cream pie, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!) fluff, pet names (angel, baby), bad jokes abt heaven and hell (lame ik), lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 26th October 2024

WC: 3.7k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove (oneshot) @mitmit01 @lost-fantasy @annoyednblax @j1sb4e @eneiyri @strayy-kidz @victoriasvz @farashawhee @mheretoreadff @hazycottagedreams @kxppachu @rayofsunshineeee @moon368 @punchbug9-blog @strxwbloody @starggukies @wonbonie @304files @ethelia @moonpri @chuckychangmin @roslayy @cyjhhyj @iamliacamila @lanpanaz BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED

NOW PLAYING: MATCH MADE IN HELL by Dutch Melrose and benny mayne

a/n: honestly (yet again) i don’t really like how it turned out, lol. the smut is mid and isn’t very filthy but hey, i tried. please lmk your thoughts and REBLOG to spread 🫶🩷. i’m not sure i’ll publish my other kinktober works (vampire sunghoon and werewolf jay), cause i won’t be able to finish them on time.

In a world where in the afterlife you become either angels and demons, based on the amount of sins one commits in their previous life, you were the wisest angel.

Of course, being God’s right arm didn’t always mean having cool jobs, like at that moment, while you were searching through all the death certificates of your chosen region to see who would become an angel and find him a place in heaven.

You remembered how it used to be overcrowded, but now it was almost empty.

After a certain amount of time, you stopped being someone’s guardian angel to either reincarnate or stay the eternity in heaven, helping newbie angels and making sure everything was at peace.

Demons would always try to bring chaos into the mundane world, throwing unlucky cards or haunting people’s dreams, trying to drive them insane or make them commit crimes, such as murder, mugging or even as cruel as suicide.

At least, you were given a room to rest for a couple of hours and to be able to do your job properly.

It was white, mostly, with a little bit of beige and pinkish tone. Glittery as well.

Sitting on your desk, you were scanning through the nth file of the night when you heard a loud cracking sound and a groan behind you.

You turned around just to see that Heeseung had teleported there, a deep frown on his face caused by the even deeper cut in his chest, where blood was spilling out.

“Heeseung!” You gasped, and he stumbled as you stood up.

He was the nastiest demon of hell, you two had arrived around at the same time and had always been in a fight since the beginning of your astral days.

Heeseung chuckled, his face paler than usual as he clutched the gash on his chest “It’s just a little cut.” He tried to brush it off, though you were sure if any human had that kind of injury, it would’ve been fatal.

He limped forward, leaning against the wall, giving you one of his usual cocky smirks “No need to worry.”

His smirk would’ve even been hot if he wasn’t bleeding out in the middle of your room, which happened to also be in heaven, a place he definitely shouldn’t be.

Heeseung couldn’t die because, well, he already did. But the healing process would’ve hurt as much as dying another time would.

You hurried towards him, forgetting the work on your desk as you helped him on the bed “What happened?”

He groaned loudly, lowering himself onto the bed and flopping onto it as he clutched his chest, trying to keep the blood from gushing out of his body.

Heeseung hissed, looking up at you with a frown. "Got into a little fight", He muttered, "Can't you just heal me up?" He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly as he smiled at your worried expression.

“With who?” You asked as you unbuttoned his mutilated black shirt and winced when you noticed in what state his skin was.

Dark blood spilled out of the gash, his veins had turned black from some kind of venom you couldn’t quite point out “Or what..?” You asked, knowing it wasn’t made from mere humans or other kinds of demons.

He knew it wasn't a pretty sight. The pain was bearable for him but seeing you so worried made him hate being injured.

Heeseung looked to the side, avoiding your gaze. "You know I can't tell you..." He murmured, his voice low with a hint of guilt.

You frowned, hating that he had to keep it a secret “I don’t care about this hell versus heaven issue,” You snapped, feeling highly frustrated in that situation, “I know you’re hiding your aura so that God won’t sense you here, but you must tell me what hurt you so badly.”

He knew you only wanted the truth, and he didn't like lying to you. “ I can't tell you what hurt me," He whispered, his voice filled with pain that he hid behind his stubborness.

He looked at you, his eyes pleading as he reached to cup your chin in his palm. "Please, stop asking me, angel."

You sighed softly. No pain was comparable to seeing him hurt, “Okay,” You breathed out “I’ll see if I have some healing potion, it should help you.”

He nodded his head slightly, giving you a weak smile “I’d appreciate that.”

Heeseung laid in the bed, his chest feeling heavy with the pain. He didn't dare move to watch you as you frantically searched the drawers, trying to find the potion that would help him.

You opened and reopened drawers in desperate search of the healing potion, but nothing seemed to come to you.

“I’m sure I put it here somewhere,” You murmured as you threw out of your drawers white clothings and other items.

The panicked look in your eyes made his heart ache. He didn't want you to worry so much about him.

Heeseung sat up slowly, wincing as he did so. He reached out towards you, his voice strained as he spoke. "Angel, come here."

“No,” You frowned, not even turning around to look at him “I have to find it- I must.”

He let out a small sigh when you refused to come towards him. He could sense your anxiety rising as you scoured the room for the potion.

“Y/N,," He said, his voice firm but laced with desperation. "Please. come here. You don't need to find it for me right now, just come here."

“I’m sorry,” You whispered as you turned around. The blood dried a little, fortunately the flow had stopped completely.

You moved to the bed, sitting beside him as you adjusted the pillow behind his back.

“Don’t apologise,” His voice was a little too soft for a demon, “I just need you with me right now.”

You chuckled softly, “This looks like a bad joke. An angel worried about a demon.”

A light, amused smile appeared on his face. "It does sound quite ironic, doesn't it?"

He continued, “But I suppose it just shows the power of love, breaking boundaries even between heaven and hell."

You looked at him and nodded, intertwining your hands together, “It indeed is powerful.”

You looked at his gash again, it would take at least a whole day for it to fully close, and a week too for the scar to fade away.

At least, he was in your bed and not somewhere in hell-

bed. bed. under the bed you had some healing potion.

That’s where you had secured it. You jumped off the bed and quickly kneeled to rummage through the boxes.

He looked up in surprise at you when you jumped up so suddenly, his grip on your hand loosening as you rushed towards the bed.

He watched, a puzzled expression on his face, as you knelt down and started to rummage under the bed “What are you doing, angel?"

“Here it is!” You exclaimed, holding up a casket with bottles of healing cream.

He smiled faintly at your enthusiasm. "I can't believe it was right under the bed this whole time," He said, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

You helped him lay on the bed again, making sure he was comfortable. You opened the small bottle and poured some of its contents into your hand.

“This will help your healing process,” You informed as you opened his shirt better, “But it might hurt… a lot.”

Heeseung gave you a quick nod and you gently put the cream on his wound.

He hissed and gripped the sheet beneath him, trying to breath in as much air as he could as his skin burned.

“Shhh,” You soothed, putting the bottle on the ground and caressing his face “Don't fight it baby, it’ll be alright.”

“This ain’t got nothing on me,” He murmured, trying to be strong for the both of you.

The pain was just like dying another time, his skin was slowly healing, but by doing that his body would suffer.

Heeseung’s eyelids slowly grew heavy until they shut because of the pain.

You stayed with him the whole time, until his body stopped rocking in tremors and his skin stopped sweating cold.

He woke up just a couple of hours later, thanks to his high dark aura, making it easier for the healing cream to work.

His chest had been wrapped in a bandage, now being shirtless, just with his black jeans.

His eyes opened, taking in the light colours of your room. You sat beside him, continuing with your heavenly task, but also willing to stay by his side.

Heeseung groaned lowly, his body feeling heavy and sore from the intense pain he had undergone.

He looked around for you, his eyes landing on your figure sitting beside him.

“Angel.." he muttered, his voice weak and hoarse.

You widened your eyes at hearing his voice and quickly discarded the documents on the bed “Hey,” You whispered, turning toward him.

He could feel the effects of the potion, making his body stronger by the minutes “How long was I out for?” He asked.

“No more than a couple of hours,” You informed him, brushing his bangs away.

He nodded, wincing slightly as he moved to sit up in the bed.

Heeseung looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours. "Still doing your work, huh?” He asked, gesturing at the closed documents and pen beside you.

“Angel duties.” You shrugged, giving him a small smile “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing okay,” You replied, sitting upright “The healing potion is working.”

“That’s good.” You nodded, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you for healing me, angel.” He said, the look in his eyes full of love and devotion.

You smiled gently, “I’m glad you came to me.”

He took your hand in his, “Where else would I go, if not to you?” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze “You’re my safe haven, Y/N.”

Your eyes softened at his words and something warm spread all over your chest. They then fell onto his lips, they looked so plump and soft. You had the urge to kiss him, but you couldn’t.

It was impossible for angels and demons to kiss due to the curse cast upon them, a curse that would make their lips burn as soon as they met.

He sighed softly, Heeseung knew exactly what you were thinking. He was thinking the same, “What would I give just to taste your lips, even just once.” He murmured.

“Me too,” You frowned. “This is so… unfair.”

He nodded in agreement, "It truly is unfair," He said, his voice filled with suppressed anger.

"I wish I could pull you in my arms, hold you close, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. And most of all, I wish I could kiss you, feel the softness of your lips against mine."

You shivered at his words, each one igniting a fire inside of you that could no longer be contained. You needed him and you needed him to need you back.

Still, you joked, trying to lighten the mood “You seem a little too soft for a demon.”

He chuckled softly, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. "I know, I know," He replied, a small smile on his face. “I suppose you bring out the softer side in me, angel.”

You traced your fingers on the bandage you used to cover up his gash, for finally just a small amount of blood had dirtied it “Does it still hurt?”

“No, not anymore.” He gave you a reassuring smile “It’s just a little sore now, nothing I can’t handle.”

Even if his reply was really important, you couldn’t seem to hear it as your eyes settled on his lips.

You moved unconsciously closer to him, and he noticed, licking his lips.

Heeseung held his breath as you leaned closer to him, his heart fluttering in his chest. He could feel the warmth of your skin, the gentle scent of your hair, and the soft touch of your breath against his face.

In a moment of lucidity, you shook your head and moved away. You craved his kiss, but you couldn’t hurt him just because of your selfishness.

“Would it be worth it?” You asked, your voice soft “If we kissed?”

He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes searching yours. He could see the determination in your eyes, the willingness to ignore the consequences.

“God help me," He muttered, his desire outweighing his caution.

He pulled you closer, his hands on your waist, and gently guided you onto his lap.

“Not the best thing to say in heaven.” You chuckled as you settled on his lap, holding yourself up on his shoulders.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You murmured, making sure not to add too much pressure on his aching body.

"Well, I'm not exactly welcome in heaven, aren’t I?" Heeseung shook his head slightly, his hands gentle on your waist. "Don't worry about me, angel," he whispered. "I can handle a little pain if it means I can hold you like this."

He moved your hair out of your eyes as you sighed at the contact “You’re so beautiful.” He stated. “You too,” You replied.

“You truly are an angel.” He caressed your cheek, tracing your featured “And you’re mine.”

You smiled back at him, and for a moment he didn’t even look like a demon. He looked like a human boy, holding his lover in his arms and not caring about anything in the world but for you.

And well, the worst part was that you loved him to the extreme as well.

You knew Heeseung was capable of breaking heaven and rule hell if he wanted, but he would never even consider it if it had the chance to hurt you.

He would set the world on fire to keep you warm, crave out his own wings to give them to you.

And you were no better, you thought you’d turn your back on heaven the second someone threatened to hurt him.

“What happens…” You murmured “If heaven or hell take me away from you?” You needed to hear his answer, to hear just how much he cared about you.

The thought of losing you, of heaven or hell separating you, was something he couldn't bear.

He looked into your eyes, his voice low and filled with determination. "I'll burn down heaven and hell themselves before I let them take you away from me," He said fiercely.

Heeseung pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "Nothing, not heaven or hell, can keep me from you."

At his words, you moved your face closer to his, feeling the ghost of his lips on yours, the electricity between the two of you.

His eyes flicked down to your lips, his own parting slightly in anticipation. He ached to close the distance, to feel the softness of your mouth against his.

His voice a strained whisper. "Y/N."

“Heeseung,” You whispered back “Please— kiss me, even if it hurts.”

The thought of the pain they would endure paled in comparison to the aching emptiness of not kissing you.

He took a deep breath, his voice a hoarse murmur “Damn it, angel. you'll be the death of me."

“Too bad you’re already dead.” Since he wasn’t closing the distance, you did.

You crashed your lips together in a desperate kiss. But as you braced yourself for the stinging sensation, it didn't come.

You pulled away, a surprised frown forming on your face “W-what?”

Heeseung’s expression mirrored yours, stunned, coating his sharp features.

“Maybe the curse was a lie.” You exclaimed “Maybe—“

“I don’t care.” Heeseung breathed out as he pressed his lips against yours once again.

The only thing he wanted was to focus on the sweet taste of your lips against his, the sound of your moans being swallowed in the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed softly, drowning in the feeling of him.

His usual cold skin was now burning hot, even so the mere contact made you shiver.

“I love you,” He whispered on your lips, “Even if my heart can’t beat, I can feel it within me.”

You could feel his growing desire under you, making your body ache for him, “I can feel it too.” You whispered, taking one of his hands and guiding it to the middle of your chest “The pull.”

“Fuck,” He groaned and kissed you hard again.

“No curse words in heaven.” You murmured on his lips, making him smile.

The kiss was hot and anything but pure lust. “You drive me insane.” Heeseung murmured “Damn it, Y/N. The things I want to do to you.” You knew you shouldn’t feel that way, towards a demon. It was against every rule set in heaven.

But who cared? With every swipe of his tongue against yours, you couldn’t even remember what was your porpoise in there.

Unconsciously, you ground your hips on his, making him groan in your mouth.

One of his hands cradled your head, massaging your scalp and pulling your hair gently.

You hummed, loving the way he was so gentle with you.

You placed one of your hands on his chest, but gasped as you felt the bandage. He was still hurt, you couldn’t do it.

But Heeseung just smiled and held your body against his as he turned you around, so you were the one laying on the bed.

He unbuttoned his jeans and kicked them off, as well as his underwear.

You looked down at him and lord, if you didn’t need him. He wasn’t huge, but he was long and thick and eveything you ever wished for.

“I need in you so bad angel,” He murmured, prepping kisses down your neck “Can I have you, hm?”

Mindlessly, you nodded. You thought that if he even asked you to give everything up and run away, you’d agree right away.

His hands roamed your body, groping your breast, then down your stomach as he sucked on your skin, leaving reddish marks.

Not even caring about the consequences, your hands tangled in his locks, encouraging him to continue.

In just a matter of seconds, your clothes were forgotten on the floor as he took in the sight of you. So ethereal and so his.

Heeseung licked his bottom lip and leaned in to kiss you once more, “It might hurt.” He informed.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing his chest flush to yours “I want the pain. I told you you’re worth it.”

His hips unconsciously bucked at your words, making his forehead press against your shoulder.

Heeseung took his length in his grasp and aligned with your entrance, “If you need me to stop or slow down, tell me.”

You nodded, breathing out a quick reply before he pushed himself in.

You had expected it to hurt, to burn the same way your kiss should’ve. But all you could feel was him and the sweet sensation it sent through your body.

Heeseung groaned, your walls hugging him so tightly. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to go at a slow pace.

“You’re so perfect.” He murmured, kissing your collarbone “You’re just so perfect, I don’t know how you ended up with someone like me.”

You shook your head, wanting to tell him he was wrong but his pace quickened and each thrust sent ripples of pleasure through your body.

“I love you too.” You replied to his previous confession “S’much.”

His hips stilled at your words, his breath hitching. And then, his pace resumed, quickened as he held himself up.

He rested one of your legs on his shoulder and lightly kissed your ankle.

“So good, angel.” Heeseung grunted, the sound of skin slapping filling the heavenly room.

“Ugh!” You exclaimed as he hit a certain spot that made your toe curl “There, Hee, there.”

“Got it.” He chuckled and deepened his thrust, repeatedly hitting that spot, “Found your sweet spot, mh?” He asked, his voice low and husky.

Heeseung looked so perfect, his muscled body on full display, the bandage wrapped around his torso and his bangs sticking to his forehead.

He bit his bottom lip as he tried not to release before you, one of his hands moving down to circle your clit, wanting to bring the both of you to the edge at the same time.

Your body shook in tremors as he did, the pleasure almost too much.

Your back arched as you breathed out his name, needing him to stop and continue at the same time.

“Just a little more, baby.” He snapped his hips faster, letting your ankle go and hovering over you.

Both of your breaths mended, just panting onto each others’ lips as you felt your orgasm approaching.

You cradled his face in your hands and kissed him hard, teeth clashing.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you reached the edge, your body shaking. Heeseung throbbed at each clench of your pussy around him, emptying his seed inside of you.

His hips slowed, but he didn’t pull out. He intended staying like that for as long as he could.

He laid beside you not to crash you, but not even having the energy anymore to hover your figure.

He wrapped his arms around your body and held you close to your chest, “I don’t ever want to let go.”

“Don’t.” You stated, holding onto him for dear life “Don’t ever let me go.”

“As long as you’ll let me.” He whispered and kissed you again, deeply and slowly. For all the times he had wanted to kiss you but couldn’t because of the nonexistent curse.

Oh, but if only you knew the curse existed, but didn’t work for those who were soulmates in their past lives.